The Pain In My Heart

Over all Warnings : contains a non-graphic depiction of rape, some blood, dis figuration

This Chapter : Miroku can even make the single act of washing sensual.

A/N : This started as an exercise in trying to write a darkfic. It seems to have veered more towards angst, though.

The Pain in My Heart 9

Miroku's fear for Inuyasha's life ebbed slowly as his fever came down. The hanyou's skin still felt hot to touch but it was cooler than what it had been when the fire inside had seemed to almost consume him.

Kagome had returned after a few hours, out of breath and with an air of confidence. As she had entered the hut she immediately started to scrounge the small bag she carried on her shoulder for the medicine inside.

“I don't know about the effects these would have for the poison, but these should at least bring the fever down.” She had brandished a package of tablets to them.

She had taken out one, seeing Miroku already holding Inuyasha's head up, she popped the pill into his mouth and made him drink water, making him swallow. Inuyasha had coughed but the pills had went down.

Miroku stroked Inuyasha's still warm cheek. He was relieved. He lay down next to Inuyasha, wrapping his arms around his lover's sleeping form and snuggled to him. The girls looked at them and sighed, they looked sweet. Inuyasha sidled close to the warmth. The monk kissed his brow.

The girls left the hut to give them their privacy and for Inuyasha to get the rest he sorely needed.

* * * *

Consciousness came slowly back to Inuyasha.

He was aware of noises around him. And his thoughts didn't seem to be so confused, jumbled. He was aware of a hand in his, he moved his own, grasping it tighter. Wrapping his own long, thin fingers around the more fleshy hand. He'd lost weight in all of his body, having been ill for so long.

“Inuyasha?”

He heard the softly spoken query and, despite his lack of sight, turned his head instinctively towards the voice, old gestures of the body dying hard. It was Miroku's voice that had spoken and his hand holding his.

“How are you feeling?”

Inuyasha shifted his head.

“Hmm... Fuzzy...”

He felt being lifted up in a embrace. Miroku pressed a kiss to each of his cheeks. Warm, tender and loving. Inuyasha sighed, content.

Miroku lay down beside him, absently stroking the hanyo's fair hair. Other hand wrapped possessively around his shoulders, holding his lover close. Fear had gripped him tightly during these past weeks, but being able to talk to Inuyasha now, knowing he was alert and not only awake in a feverish daze made the monk feel more secure.

“I feared for you..”, Miroku sighed, pressing his head to Inuyasha's hair.

“I feel ..better now.” The hanyo graced the monk with a tired but reassuring smile.

Miroku watched him happily. He cupped his lovers cheeks and pressed a tender kiss to his soft lips.

Inuyasha reveled in the feeling, being loved and cared for. After the kiss ended Miroku just held him, his breath ghosting on Inuyasha's skin. Fingers caressed his back in circles, soothingly, Miroku gripping him against himself like he'd disappear at any second.

But even through all the love and attention lavished on him, Inuyasha soon became aware of his body. He felt the not-so pleasant feeling of not having bathed in weeks. He felt stifled in his skin, the feeling very unpleasant. Miroku noticed his slight squirming and guessed his discomfort.

“Let me wash you.”

Inuyasha, despite all, flinched. They were both trying hard to build a relationship from the scattered pieces Inuyasha's assault had left behind. But the hanyou was still insecure and very sensitive and guarding over his body. Miroku felt him tense and heard the hitch in his breath.

“I won't if you really don't want me to, but I'd think you'd rather be clean..”

Inuyasha battled with himself. His once abused body screamed 'no', he was still very skittish of anyone seeing his body, any part of it. But he knew how much he was hurting Miroku by refusing him. The manic, debilitating laughter in his head had not ceased, being always there. In an attempt to muffle it, even a bit, Inuyasha decided to take the first step towards healing, to let new, happier memories a chance to form. He nodded his head hesitantly.

And he did feel rather in need of a bath. Well, he felt much in need of a bath, actually.

The loving kiss on his lips took some of his shakiness away, Miroku was so gentle with him, he knew the monk would never hurt him.

He was divested of the loose shirt he was wearing and left topless. Inuyasha shivered as the cool air prickled his skin. Sweat had dried on his body, making it sticky to touch as he reached a hand to touch his arm. He heard water dripping into a bucket as a cloth was being wrung. Miroku started to swipe his skin with long steady gestures. He dragged the cloth over his skin, Inuyasha welcomed the cool touch. Miroku was so tender, so careful.

Washing Inuyasha proved to be very hard for Miroku. For he could not avert his eyes from the nasty scars still present on Inuyasha's body. The nasty slash that ran across Inuyasha's stomach, the stripe-like scars that looked like whiplashes which covered the hanyo's arms. The bruises had faded now but Miroku still remembered how Inuyasha's body had been covered with them, nigh every bone in his body having been broken, appearing to the outside as severe bruises in all shades of red and blue. He could still feel Inuyasha being tense, his minds defences still up despite what he might have said. The monk could, would not, blame him. Inuyasha's mind would still take it's time to heal.

Miroku plunged the cloth back into the water and wrung it free of excess fluid. He started to wash Inuyasha's back first, running the cloth in circles over tense muscles. He puffed out a breath of air, he could not dampen his desire for the hanyo even now. He had never really observed the hanyo's form before, hadn't really had the opportunity to do so. The flat planes of his body, the rippling muscles, the smoothness of his skin. He was beautiful to Miroku's eyes, something Naraku hadn't managed to take away in his attempt to disfigure him.

Inuyasha fidgeted as Miroku ran fingers over his skin, the monk himself unaware of the gesture, his hand guiding itself to feel his marred skin. The hanyo's posture was stiff, he willed himself to calm. 'It's Miroku, it's not him!' he was battling with the images flooding his mind, cursing that he could not just turn around and etch the others face in his mind and reassure himself. To paint that loving face over the cruel, malicious one.

Miroku's fingers skidded to a halt when he was tracing the contours of Inuyasha's shoulder blades. He withdrew his fingers, conscious now of the gesture. Inuyasha, despite all, felt like he'd been rejected. A silent sob escaped him in spite of all his efforts to stifle it and Miroku understood immediately. He planted a kiss to each of his shoulders, reassuring his lover.

The tense moments were filled with the silent shuffle of the cloth against skin, the splashing of the water against the sides of the bucket and the drops falling down, breaking the surface as slippery hands wrung the cloth.

Inuyasha let his other senses guide him since his sight could not. He was waking them, having let them be dormant, not as keen as they could be, during his ill health.

There was a ... sweet scent hanging heavily in the air all around him. It wasn't annoying, just out of place.

“What's that scent?”, he inquired as Miroku was washing one of his outstretched hands.

“It's one of those soaps Kagome keeps bringing back from her time.”

The monk was almost glad his face couldn't be seen by the other since he blushed a shade of crimson, remembering how he'd come by the soap. Kagome had almost sneaked up on him earlier that day, before Inuyasha had woken. She'd given him the soap, with an unmistakably lewd grin. The wrap had been rather girly, sporting flowers and pictures of different kinds of fruit. But the scent was nice enough.

Having washed Inuyasha's back and hands Miroku now shuffled to face his lover, wetting the cloth once again. As the damp fabric first touched Inuyasha's marred chest the hanyo nearly jumped. A scarlet tint spread across the features of his face.

Inuyasha distracted himself with trying to guess the ingredients in the soap using his keen sense of smell. There was the base of scent of soap itself, with a few others mixed over it. A subtle hint of peach, a tint of strawberry and a smidgen of something the hanyo could not place. Must be something from her time, he reasoned.

Despite himself, Inuyasha let himself enjoy the attention Miroku gave him. But still he ruffled up as Miroku dropped the cloth into the water, his front now washed, and spoke up softly.

“I need you to.. to..”

And it clicked together in Inuyasha's mind. Miroku was finished with washing his upper body, which left only... A fierce blush spread over Inuyasha's cheeks and he moved instinctively backwards. He heard the soft, dejected sigh. He wanted to calm down, wanted to stop his body from shaking, wanted to.. damn, stop the tears flowing from his eyes and down to cool his blush heated skin.

He heard the shuffle of feet and the other man getting up. Despite himself he spoke.

“Where are you going?”

There was that sigh again. So defeated, sad and resigned. 'Damn, why must I be so fragile and emotional all the time?' (A/N: Because you're preggers, that's why!*snerk*)

Inuyasha heard Miroku stand still as the words he then spoke sank in. One word, almost whispered, in a pleading, wavering tone. A word that was the first step forward from the darkness and pain.

“Stay.”

Miroku stepped back and Inuyasha buried his head into the folds of his robes. He breathed in shakily, hands gripping the coarse fabric. The monk lay a hand on his head, soothing him. Inuyasha leaned into it, drawing comfort from the gesture. When Miroku withdrew his hands, Inuyasha wiped off his tears and nodded, mumbling. “Just do it..”

Inuyasha blushed fiercely, his whole body shaking as Miroku divested him of his pants.

The monk was considerate, not saying a word as the hanyo's hips shook, as did his whole body. He was so tense, trying so hard to let it be okay, let Miroku get close to him...

Miroku didn't linger on his task, eyes despite that taking in the horrible scarring that overshadowed how the skin of Inuyasha's upper body looked. He diverted his eyes from even glancing to the deep gashes that were a proof of the unbelievable, savage cruelty done to the one he loved. Averted himself from looking at the deep scars that run up the inside of the hanyo's pale tights to disappear behind, to places he'd been violated. He also only saved a quick glance to his nether regions, knowing becoming lusty with anyone was the farthest from the hanyo's mind right now.

He just wrung the cloth again in the wooden bucket and handed it to Inuyasha, turning his back as the hanyo washed his more intimate parts.

There was a rap at the door and Kagome called in. “Do you need more water?”

Miroku looked at the bucket, now realizing he hadn't washed Inuyasha's face at all. He stood up, picking up the bucket and the cloth and went to the door. “Yes, we need some, would you throw this away.”

“So did he let you?..” Kagome whispered silently, nudging her head towards the inside of the hut.

“Yes he did. Water?”

“Oh, right.”
Miroku lowered the bucket in his hands to the ground and took the small bucket from Kagome's hands. “Thanks.” And he disappeared inside.

When he turned he saw that Inuyasha had already put his pants back on and was fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. Miroku padded to him and put the bucket down. There was already a cloth floating around in the water.

“Inuyasha.”

“Hmm?” The hanyo raised his head.

“Your face.”

“Right.”

Inuyasha peeled the bandages off from his face, the scars not surprising Miroku any more, he'd seen them many times already. He guided Inuyasha's hands to the bucket so he could splash the water on his face while taking a hold of his long mane to keep it from falling to his lover's face. When done Inuyasha dried his face with the towel Miroku offered him. It was one of Kagome's and it felt nice against Inuyasha's skin in all it's fluffiness.

Miroku helped Inuyasha to put on a clean shirt and pants and then forced the hanyo to lay down as he looked a bit pale. He also made him eat some broth that had been warming on the cooking are.

“Thank you,” he whispered against the hanyo's cheek, pecking it with a kiss as the hanyo had been properly cleaned, changed and fed. Inuyasha just snuggled against him, drifting off to sleep.