“If I do, you’re already swimming in them,” Kakashi muttered. He could taste blood on his lips, drying and cracked and not his. His mask was a cold, wet collar around his throat. All he could smell was iron and meat.

He’d only slept with one person in the last two months. There was nothing in his blood but morphine.

“Yeah. Makes you wonder why we bother with clean needles at all, really,” Ginta said, rasping-wry. He paused, spoke again. “Is it working yet? I think it’s working a little.”

“We’re both still alive,” Kakashi said.

Apparently that was not a sufficiently reassuring response, because Ginta immediately tried to fill the green-limned silence with words. “Pakkun went to get help” he said, voice thin and oddly muffled. “Did I tell you that? I told you that, I think. He went to get help, if he can.”

That I think, Kakashi reflected, made it sound as if he wasn’t the only one with holes in his memory.

“You told me,” he said, trying not to slur as the drug-warmth crept through his skull and made everything vague and unimportant. How much had Ginta given him? “Konoha’s two days away -- three with his legs. How much water d’you have left?”

A rustle and scrape of movement ended in the sound of a canteen being sloshed. “S’mostly full. If we can risk a jutsu without bringing this place down on top of us, I could probably get some from the groundwater.”

Kakashi’s free hand closed carefully around shards of tile. “Where are we?” he asked.

“Bathroom,” said Ginta. “Used to be a bathroom. We're almost due east of the entrance.”

“Should be pipes in the walls,” Kakashi said. They might be frozen, but ice was better than nothing -- provided they could get at it.

“Yeah,” Ginta said unclearly, voice distorted by morphine or the wreck of his face. “If they’re not broken.”

Kakashi managed a back-of-his-throat noise that might have been agreement, if you looked at it in a charitable light. Without the direct press of Ginta’s body and the cocoon of the emergency blanket, he was becoming aware that it was hellishly cold, which was a mixed blessing. Cold had helped their injuries to stop bleeding, and was probably doing something useful for whatever swelling was happening inside his head, but hypothermia would kill them faster than dehydration.

Possibly not as fast as the roof would, when Baiji’s chakra ran out.

A full-body shiver made Kakashi draw his knees up in agony, accidentally kicking Ginta. Ginta gave a full-body flinch and made a pained sound, rolling closer. His hand closed around Kakashi’s bare upper arm, alarm clear in his voice. “S’wrong? You okay?”

His hand was icy.

“It’s too cold,” Kakashi got out, forcing himself to pull his hands down from his face. Light drove needles into his eye, but he could see his breath clouding in the air. “We need the blanket. Where--?”

He’d just had it.