Happy Accidents

Chapter 16: Ad Normalis

A/N: Hello readers! Since this has been getting far more traction than I had anticipated, I would like to take the time to dedicate this chapter to my two good friends Synder and Star. These two are two of my closest friends & were with me when this idea originally started as a group written plot we were doing. Synder, you will forever be my favourite Elsa fanboy, and Star, you will always be the Ino to my Sakura. Love you both, you're my two favourite British dorks. <3

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After what felt like forever, she was finally being sent home from the hospital. Things were finally over with her first big case, and she was glad to be out of the same four walls where her friends came just to fret over her. The smell of antiseptic and wasn't something she was going to miss. She might have been used to it at work, but having to live it for an extended period of time outside of work was beginning to drive her crazy.

She's insisted that she could make it home on her own, and had refused to allow anyone to take her there. Not even Ino was allowed to drive her home, and luckily for her, the detective was busy at the office working late. They'd had to call in someone to cover her department, and apparently, whoever was doing it was a lot slower and a lot less on-the-ball than she was. Sakura had a feeling he was going to be happy when she was finally back at work.

The cab dropped her off in front of her house, and she stood there for a few moments, staring at the door. Things had been fixed; she remembered that one of the panes in the front door had been shattered when she was shot. Probably the work of someone at work, or perhaps Ino's doing. Slowly, she made her way up toward the door, checking it; it was locked. She opened it with her key, making her way in. The front area had been cleaned up; she could still smell the bleach from whoever had taken the time to clean everything up. The door closed behind her, and she turned to quickly lock it, turning back and slowly making her way in.

The way she moved, it was like she expected something to jump out at her. How could she expect anything else? The last time she'd been here, she'd been attacked. She'd nearly died. Even though the blood had been cleaned thoroughly and the shattered glass replaced, the incident hadn't changed. It had still happened. It was still a part of her life.

Moving about the place, she knew she couldn't do this. She couldn't stay here. She didn't feel safe here. How could she? After being attacked in her own home, where she lived alone, how was she supposed to feel safe? She wasn't about to ask Ino or anyone else for help with this. She had to be strong. She had to be independent. Making her way down the hall, she packed a few changes of clothes into a small bag, light enough that she could carry it. She took it along with her work bag and the usual paperwork she carried with her, carrying it to the curb. She was still on medication, which meant she wasn't allowed to drive; she cursed that thought, pulling out her phone and calling another cab.

She knew she was going to have to find somewhere else. An apartment, maybe. That would be her best bet. Just a few days staying at the office shouldn't be a problem, right? She had everything she needed there. The kitchenette, coffee maker, a couch she could sleep on, and a shower she could use (technically, it was the decontamination shower, but she was the boss of that department, so... it would be fine). The cab arrived, and she was quickly at the station, hauling her bag and cursing internally as it was almost too heavy for her. She was certain it was tugging at her stitches.

Turning the corner to the elevator, she didn't realize who was standing in it until she bumped right into him. She hated that she knew who it was without even looking; she'd just got too used to his presence. Looking upward, her gaze met the detective's, and she knew by the look on his face that she was in trouble. Lots of trouble.

"What are you doing here? You're supposed to be at home. Resting." Oh, his tone was beyond curt. He was... angry? The frown on his face definitely said so. She tried to keep her look serious as she searched for an excuse.