A/N: Sorry for the lack of updates lately. I lost my muse for a little while there with all the mayhem of college lately. But, I'll start writing again, hopefully!

This fic is going to be slightly tied in with my other story, Purgatory, but you don't need to read that to read this. This is just an expansion of one of those scenes into a story. (I'm going to change Purgatory a bit, actually, I didn't like the way I ended it.)

She thinks she could have saved him now, had she known what was happening. She dwells on it too much. She thinks every day through, wondering what she could have said to fix the things that had shattered in those few moments. She daydreams about watching his epiphany after she says just the right words, and watching him glue himself back together without doubting her for a second. And then she realizes that nothing she could have said would have helped, and daydreams about him following the same path he was destined to.

Day 0:

Only a few minutes had passed, but it felt like days. She was paralyzed, the weight of Yahiko's body pinning her to the ground, though she could have pushed it off had she really tried. The statue had gone as quickly as it had appeared, but she still felt as if it was looming over her, taking the lives of so many in just moments. She could do nothing but stare as Nagato struggled to stand with the rods that had been forced into him.

He lost that fight quickly.

She didn't see the grin on his face before he fell forward, hitting the ground with a quiet thump. She saw him rise and fall with each shallow breath, and she knew he was still alive, though she felt no relief knowing that. That didn't change that he was still clearly injured beyond repair (though she didn't quite realize that at the time), nor did it change Yahiko's fate. So she sat, trembling, waiting to wake up from what she thought couldn't be reality.

She waited.

And waited.

And then the rain had drenched her just a bit too much, and her makeup ran into her eyes. She reached up to wipe it away, and as she wiped away the makeup she wiped away the illusion of hope that she had been clinging to. Finally she understood that she had to act. She felt guilt overcome her as she pushed Yahiko off her lap and back onto the ground, but it wasn't enough to stop her from running.

Even running felt slow considering the urgency of the situation. But, that couldn't be helped, and she ran all the way back to the others, begging for help as soon as they were in earshot. She wanted to go with the people who went to retrieve her two dearest friends, but the others held her back, telling her that they needed to help her. She didn't need help, she insisted. They didn't listen to her. They dragged her back into one of the empty houses they had commandeered, and sat her down.

She realized that she would get out of the house faster if she just cooperated. They moved so fast as they made sure to fix up every insignificant scratch on her, and she stared at the wall with a blank mind all the while. She didn't realize how long it took for them to fix her, despite how little pain she felt in the first place. By the time they let her out, the others had returned with Yahiko and Nagato, though neither of them were conscious when they arrived.

Nagato didn't wake up for a few hours.

Yahiko didn't wake up at all.

She wanted to be by Nagato's side when he awoke, but they wouldn't let her, no matter how much she pleaded. They should have known by then that having her there would have made their jobs much easier, but they didn't. She sat outside the house in the rain, and listened silently to the activity behind the doors.

After she strained her ears enough, she could hear Nagato trying to yell at the medics. His voice was so weak that it hardly sounded intimidating. They talked back at him for a few minutes, insisting that they were going to help. Whatever they were doing must've hurt Nagato a lot, because he kept telling them to stop. Either that or he didn't want to be helped. She wasn't sure.

After a while, he stopped trying to scare them by yelling, and his already shaky voice deteriorated to what she could only guess was sobbing. She could barely make out his words (if they were words at all), and her head filled with all of the terrible things he could be saying. She felt the rain soak through her clothes, barely caring that she was starting to get cold.

She started shivering after a while. The men who guarded the entrance to the house told her that she should go inside some other house and get changed. She shook her head and ignored the temperature for as long as she could. It wasn't the cold that ended up bothering her. She started to tear up eventually, and what would usually just be a warm tear felt like a goddamn fire on her cheek before fading with the rest of the water falling down her face.

She was mad at herself for crying. Or rather, she was mad at herself for not crying earlier. Her crying seemed to be for all the wrong reasons. She was crying because she was mad at herself for not mourning Yahiko earlier. She was crying because she was mad at herself for not being sick over Nagato's pain. She was crying because her eyes stung because of the tears. She was crying because she was mad at herself for crying over such useless things.

She didn't like any of this failed logic.

The war in her mind suddenly ended when she heard something shatter inside the house. It sounded like glass, and the guards in front of the door rushed inside to see what was wrong. She took advantage of the break in security, and slipped in behind them.

What she saw inside the tent was a lot less gruesome than she expected it to be. At least, it was for a moment. There was broken glass on the floor and whatever was in it had spilled, but the label on the side proved that it was nothing dangerous. Just some water. The doctor and nurse stood a few feet away from Nagato's bed, the nurse's hands still glowing with healing chakra. They were staring at the guards, who showed no interest in helping.

Her eyes quickly moved from the broken glass to Nagato's bed, where he had been put. She made an involuntary sound at the sight of his emaciated body, unable to take her eyes off his ribs. He turned his head to look at her, and his eyes sucked her in until she looked up at his face. He looked so angry, and for just a second she feared for her life.

But he didn't intend to hurt her. He never did. He turned back to everyone else in the room, and somehow gathered the strength to speak.

"All of you… Get the fuck out."

It was quiet, but the threat was still there. Silently, everyone scurried out of the house, and she remained still, waiting for him to speak again. He didn't, though. He remained still and stared at the wall for a minute before waving her closer. She walked so slowly; it felt like an eternity before she reached him. She stood beside his bed and waited yet again. When he didn't make a move, she reached out to touch his arm, pausing before she brushed his skin. He looked as if he would break at even the slightest touch. But, she ran a finger along his arm anyway, just to prove to herself that he was still there.

"Aren't you cold?" She asked, feeling that he was even colder than she was.

"Yes."

"What happened to your shirt? And your cloak?"

"The medics cut them off."

"…Cut?" She asked. She realized a moment later that it would have been difficult to remove his clothes with the rods in his back. He nodded toward the table, where his shirt and cloak were lying, both with the sleeves removed, along with a large hole in the back.

"They tried to take one of the rods out, too," he added.

She could see that didn't go so well, since all of the rods were still in place.

"Why didn't they?"

"I'd bleed to death."

The thought of that made her stomach hurt. One too many friends had already died that day. She reached up to touch one of the rods, hesitating when Nagato seemed to shrink away from her hand. She didn't dare to push or pull the rods, or even try to rest her hand on them. She put a few of her fingers against one of the smallest rods, and felt it vibrate. She couldn't tell if it was the rod itself, or Nagato. He seemed to sigh with relief when he realized she wasn't trying to alter the rods somehow.

"Do they hurt?"

"Of course they hurt!" He snapped, glaring at her.

In hindsight, that was a really stupid question. She remained silent and didn't react to his outburst. She looked closer at the rest of his back. It was covered in scratches and bruises and other little injuries. She started to wish she had actually learned some medical ninjutsu earlier. Maybe she could help him. Since that wasn't an option, the next best thing was…

"Maybe you should let one of the nurses fix some of these," She suggested.

"No. They already tried that, they just ended up making things worse."

"How could they possibly make things worse?"

"They're clumsy," He said, "They just ended up 'accidentally' nudging the rods."

"Maybe you could get a different nurse to—"

"No."

"Okay."

She backed off, unaccustomed to arguing with Nagato. He reached out to touch her cloak, and finally noticed that she was soaking wet.

"What happened to your clothes?" He asked.

"I was out in the rain."

"You didn't go inside somewhere?"

"No."

"Why not?"

She shrugged, truly at a loss for an answer. She wasn't sure why she hadn't gone inside. Though, that seemed to be a good thing, since she wouldn't have gotten inside to see him if she had gone somewhere else.

"You should get changed."

"I don't have a change of clothes here... All of them were going to be washed." She told him.

He paused for a moment, and then extended his hand to one of their backpacks. She realized he was trying to use his Shinra Tensei to pull something out. The bag almost seemed to explode, and he began to choke, spitting blood on the sheets.

"Nagato, I could've gotten it myself!" She yelled, on the verge of tears again.

"I'm fine." He lied, wiping the blood from his lip. "You can use my clothes, they're dry."

She got up after a few seconds, and dropped her old cloak to the floor. Nobody was going to care where she put her things or where she got changed; it was, after all, the house that the three of them lived in while they were in this area. It was close enough to being their own. She wanted to go to a different room to get changed, but privacy wasn't worth leaving him alone for even just a moment. He looked off to the side while she shed her clothes, and took the ruined origami flower out of her hair. She was thankful for his courtesy, and attempted to get reasonably dry with a towel. Her hair seemed to just soak her as soon as she was done.

She did manage to stop her hair from dripping after a few minutes. It felt a little more comfortable after she was dry, though she didn't quite feel 'warm' yet. She took his extra cloak and a pair of pants, knowing that it would be pointless to take an entire outfit. His clothes were too big for her, and she had to hold the pants to keep them up. She sat back on his bed, and he looked at her again. He seemed much calmer now, she noticed, but she somehow thought that was a bad thing. He pulled his fingers through her hair, which was rather knotted after towel-drying it. She was surprised he was even strong enough to do that.

Despite the fact that he had clearly been hurt more than she had, he was the first to speak again.

"We should sleep."

She was amazed he was able to think of such a logical thing in this situation, but she knew that he was right. But she didn't want to leave him alone, and she left for just a second to drag a large, comfy chair out of the next room. He saw her having just a bit of trouble pushing it, and he reached out to help her. She looked up and yelled at him, angry that he'd try to strain himself in that condition. He put his hand back down and looked away from her, bothered by her outburst.

She apologized as she curled up in the chair, but he didn't respond to her. She didn't know what to do, so instead she just said 'goodnight', however stupid that sounded. He nodded while she sent a sheet of paper to shut off the one light that filled the room.

The room went black, and she fell asleep faster than she should have.

She woke up late in the night, with a lost sense of time and reality, and heard him whimpering beside her. Her thoughts clouded and stuck in a dream, she did nothing but listen. The soft sounds should have been distressing, but they only served to lull her back to sleep.

She dreamt of Yahiko, blissfully unaware of Nagato's pain as he sat awake beside her.

She wishes it would have played out differently. She wishes that, instead of sitting helplessly as the Gedo statue crawled from the ground to steal the last of her friend's sanity, she would have gotten up and stopped Nagato from summoning it. He'd fight her grasp for a moment, but then stop and realize she was there. And then he'd come back to his sanity, and still have triumphed over Hanzo's army without so much pain.

She wishes she had gotten up after the statue vanished, and caught him before he fell to the ground.

She wished she had understood the urgency of the situation when she drifted awake in the night and heard him struggling with such pain. She wishes she had gone closer to him and comforted him until he fell asleep himself, and perhaps he would have awoken with his mind cleared and the path ahead clear to him.

But she did none of those things, and so he fell deeper.

A/N: More of this coming soon.