A/N: This story was supposed to be a oneshot, but by a request from jemiul I've added this last follow-up. I won't touch this again, I promise. If you love it, hate it, think I should take away the second chap, let me know! Thanks for the reviews!

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

Strength

Sure, there had been a withdrawal period. Two months where it took all his strength just to lift his head or reach for his bedside table to shut of that damned alarm clock. Two months of excruciating pain that made him regret all the ANBU and suicide missions he had agreed to go on over the years. Two months of feverish dreams that made him relive every mission over and over again. Two months of his own demons ripping to the surface and bearing their ugly heads.

His body and mind had been weak, but she was always there, watching over him and removing any temptation there was to numb the pain another time. She was there with the others—the stoic Uchiha, who owed his very existence as a whole person to Cell 7's old leader; the hyperactive Uzumaki, concern lining his whiskered face; the ink-user, Sai, who outwardly seemed as though he didn't give a damn, but inwardly was worried to death; Cell 10, along with Cell 8 and 9; even Iruka stopped by, as well as Kurenai, Gai, and Genma.

She was the not-so-silent strength that he found during that painful time in his life, just like Rin was after Obito's death. The headstrong kunoichi refused to leave him by the wayside, like so many other people had done during his life. Throughout the two-month purgatory he endured, she stood guard, bathing his fevered brow when needed, cooking for him, keeping his room livable, keeping him from succumbing to the inviting darkness.

The day the withdrawal had finally broken, he woke to find her sleeping fitfully, curled up beside him, nuzzled next to his arm, exhaustion etched on her too-young features. He wondered to himself how many sleepless nights his addiction had forced her to endure, how many times she had wished he had just died that night she found out about it. His hazy memories of the past two months always included her gentle, worried face, whether he had woken up from a nightmare screaming or had been bent at the toilet, puking his meager meals up.

Kakashi reached over with his right hand and gently brushed some pink hair away from her face. She started at his touch, but when she saw who it was that touched her, she studied him through one eye, a small, tired smile playing at her lips.

"I didn't mean to wake you," he whispered, his voice dry and cracked.

"I know," she replied. She reached out a hand and felt his uncovered forehead. "Your fever broke."

He nodded, eye-smiling at her. "See, I'm good as new."

She snorted doubtfully. "I don't think so. You lost a lot of weight, not to mention muscle mass. It's going to be awhile before you get back into the shape you were in."

Kakashi sighed and slipped an arm beneath Sakura's light body, drawing her in for a horizontal hug. "Thank you, Sakura. Thank you so much."

Sakura clung to his black shirt, holding on as though there were no tomorrow. Kakashi was back. For good, this time. He pulled away from her and stood up, walking into the bathroom, where he looked at himself in the mirror. He was pitifully gaunt. His hollow cheeks and the circles beneath his eyes reminded him of a meth addict. His skin had lost much of its elasticity, making him look old and slightly repulsive, in his eyes.

"Your mask in on the towel rack," Sakura said. She had snuck up behind him, and was leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. "You have time for a shower before breakfast."

"Thanks." Sakura nodded and left, shutting the door behind him as though she were giving him no other choice. Kakashi turned on the shower, running the water until it was hot. Stepping beneath the cascade, he allowed the tension of the past two months to melt away. He had hit rock bottom with the withdrawal. Things could only get better, now.

With that last thought, he shut off his shower and dried off. He once again looked into the mirror, and saw a completely different man looking back at him. The wounds from the past remained, but now there was a new hope in his features. The mental scars from the past two months still battled to come through, but stronger was the need for a clean start. Ignoring his fabric mask, he walked out of the bathroom with a smile and a clean shirt on.

Sakura was standing at the stove, frying something that smelled delicious. Her weight was all on one leg, the other tucked neatly behind it. She was singing quietly to herself, absorbed in her own thoughts. Kakashi walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her long hair fondly. Sakura responded by picking a random vegetable out of the frying pan and holding it for Kakashi to eat. He took it thankfully, munching it as he continued to hold Sakura.

"It's ready," Sakura said after awhile. Kakashi let her go and reached for the two plates she had already set out. They ate in companionable silence, side-by-side, closer than circumstances required.

After awhile, Kakashi felt the need to voice what he had been thinking in the shower. "I can't go back to the way it used to be, Sakura."

"I know," she replied, not looking up from her food.

"I was thinking that I'd move out of this place, maybe find a little house on the outskirts of town…this place just holds too much," he continued. "Maybe close to the training grounds."

Sakura tore her gaze away from the vegetables on her plate to study the silver-haired man. He had a far-away look in his eyes, but not a dazed look. "You showed me that I'm not alone, Sakura. I'm not worthless. I'm not just a tool."

Now he was looking at her with that familiar, piercing gaze. It wasn't accusatory, simply gauging. Normally, Sakura would have withered under that gaze, but it was accompanied by a smile that softened its effect.

"Sakura, I owe you my life. Thanks for giving it back to me." Kakashi stood and cleared away the dishes. Sakura simply sat there, chin resting on knitted fingers, watching his back as he washed up. He was a shadow of his former self, but everything that was good in Kakashi Hatake had been preserved somehow. Now, the man was happy. He would be rebuilt with time and care, just as anything was.

And just as always, she would be there to help him pick up the pieces.

Omigoodneth!!! This was just itching to come out after request. I started and I couldn't stop! So my oneshot turned into a twoshot :) good 4 us. But there is no more after this! I will no longer touch this story. You can infer whatever you want about Kakashi and Sakura's relationship from what I have here. I meant for it to be more of a friend on friend relationship, but think whatever you want! R&R please!