Genma wasn't sure who was holding up whom. Who was being strong for whom. He was sure, though, that neither of them, no matter how far down they'd been knocked, were weak. He held on, held on, held on, because at least for now, at least for this moment, Kakashi was alive and whole, and Genma was alive and whole, and the two of them were together without interrogators and sadistic medics.

And Kakashi believed him.

If someone had told Genma, "By the end of this mission you'll be holding Kakashi in your arms like he's the most important person in the world," Genma would have asked which of the bottles of hallucinogenic poison down in the lab had been used to brew the coffee. Not now.

Now there was only the too-cold air, their too-empty stomachs, a too-bare cell, and the too-tenuous promise of rescue.

Genma could smell the stale smoke clinging to Kakashi's hair. The interrogator's smoke. It didn't smell quite normal, like maybe the tobacco had been tainted with something extra... That would be a good way to get drugs into an unwilling subject, some distant part of Genma's brain thought. Fill the room with cigarette smoke laced with something else, something the interrogator was immune to.

The smell made Genma crave a cigarette. But... But there was a reason he hadn't listed a pack of smokes in his litany of things he wished he had. After what he'd seen Kakashi go though, and knowing how sensitive Kakashi's nose was, he couldn't bring himself to even consider smoking around the man. Even now Kakashi was taking deep breaths, as if somehow Genma's scent was a restorative.

We need some sleep. Can you sleep? Genma's fingers tapped. In answer Kakashi stiffened, suddenly alert, with a tremor that rattled into rock stillness. Genma had just enough time to tense himself, to feel a lightning pulse of automatically-called-upon chakra race through his system leaving deep burns in its wake.

They're coming Kakashi's hand on the nape of Genma's neck spelled out.

Kakashi pushed away from Genma and staggered to his feet. Put himself between the door and Genma. Genma fell, caught himself on one elbow, and tried to shove back up. There was a rising rush in his ears, a distant cold-hot feeling. The light in the room seemed dim, the floor under him unsteady.

There was a clatter in the outer lock, a creak, footsteps, voices. Genma pushed himself to stand on bare feet that ached with ancient breaks. The door opened.

It was the well-dressed commander, and a man Genma thought he should recognize but couldn't quite. A man in well-made civilian clothes -- priestly clothes -- with heavy grey eyebrows and a balding head. He carried two bundles of bedding, which he set down carefully by the door.

"Gentlemen," the priest said. "On behalf of the Tsuchikage, I want to apologize for the unpleasantness of your first few days in our village. I am here to ensure that you find yourselves more comfortable for the duration of your stay with us."

Genma felt his blood turn to slush.

The ninja commander stepped closer. He held something out, showing it to Kakashi, then laid it and three more objects carefully on the floor where Kakashi could pick them up. A pair of Konoha hitai-ate -- Genma recognized his own, and the other must be Kakashi's -- and two sets of dog tags on two identical stainless steel chains.