saraste

I give in, no-one reads quills_n_ink anyway so this goes up here. Apparently it isn't up anywhere on my LJ... Which is weird 'cos I could have sworn that it was.

Title : Disjointed Hearts
Author : Saraste
Fandom : Inuyasha
Pairing : Sesshomaru/Miroku
Rating : NC-17, slash
Warnings: angst, dark, mpreg

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Oh, kami-sama, why him?

Miroku leaned his head wearily against the bark of a tall tree. The group of friends had camped on a small clearing, the sleeping forms under the trees being cast into shadow as they were just outside the warm light of fire. Miroku had offered to keep watch, getting worried glances from his friends who in the end let him have the first watch, telling him to wake Inuyasha, whom the monk doubted wasn't even at the moment actually sleeping, after a few hours and then get some sleep. As if he would, anyway.

The firelight coming from few yards away brought Miroku's tired, almost gaunt features into sharp relief. He had not been sleeping well, eating well or feeling well for what seemed like an eternity now.

Not since that first time he had made love with Sesshomaru.

It had been sweet. He had been surprised of the youkai's gentle touches, the way he had handled him like something delicate, like he would break under too harsh a touch. The sweet, sweet caresses over his skin, the slow shallow thrusts into his body.

He had thought then that he must have died and reached nirvana.

The bliss after the initial burn and the discomfort of being stretched by Sesshomaru's thick length, he had not been able to find the words to describe it. The rhythm of their bodies as they had made love through the night, never ceasing but to regain their breaths after having been spent, lust being awakened again and again.

Miroku had woken in the early hours of the morning, a strong clawed hand wrapped around him, feeling more content that he ever had in his life.

Then Sesshomaru had crashed that contentedness.

They could not have a relationship, the youkai lord had explained. He had far too many enemies and if it was known he had a human lover, Miroku's life would be in danger. Sesshomaru's enemies would try to kill him or scare him by hurting him in order to gain leverage over the lord of the Western lands.

Sesshomaru claimed that he loved Miroku too much to have him come to harm. And for some inexplicable reason he would not take Miroku with him. If he were with Sesshomaru, Miroku had reasoned, no one would dare threaten his life. He had pleaded Sesshomaru to take him to his castle, anything but to be parted. If he loved Miroku so much, why did he want to be apart, why give them this night of passion, Miroku had demanded.

It was the heat of the moment, Sesshomaru had answered, the longing of his lonely heart.

He had seen Miroku alone, the new moon basking his beauty, having made the pang of love unfulfilled unbearable in the stoic youkai's heart. So he'd given in to the moment, delighted of his love being returned so willingly.

And so he'd given Miroku the best night of his life.

After Sesshomaru had left, deaf to Miroku's teary pleas, the monk had returned, gloomily, to their camp. The girls had berated him for staying off all night. It had been Inuyasha's human night and they had worried, or so they claimed, over the monk. At least for what strength he had to help defend them.

Miroku had been too deep in wallowing in his self pity to take proper notice of anything. He hadn't explained where he'd been or what had happened.

Inuyasha had drawn Miroku aside later that day, demanding why he smelled his brother all over the monk. His sniffing had unnerved Miroku, making him ruffle up and confess to nothing. He'd said that Inuyasha need know nothing, that he'd just bumped into the youkai. Inuyasha didn't buy it for a second, Miroku knew that instantly. For why would the hanyou's brother release Miroku after a chance encounter?

But Inuyasha hadn't pressed the matter any further, believing it was private, thinking whatever had transpired between the monk and the youkai lord had not leaved Miroku badly scathed. But it built a rift between Inuyasha and Miroku even when neither of them intended that to happen.

That night when all had fallen asleep Miroku gave in to his sorrow and let the violent sobs wrack his body, feeling lost, cast aside. For whatever the youkai lord might say it still didn't dim the love Miroku now knew they shared but could never bring to blooming.

During the weeks that had followed his night with Sesshomaru Miroku had drawn onto himself, heart bleeding for the love he could not announce, a love he knew was being reciprocated.

Miroku had told himself he was love sick when he'd first started feeling ill.

His friends blamed his nausea to his sporadic eating habits. He would go almost days without sustenance, only eating when the girls made him. Well more like Sango holding him down and Kagome stuffing noodles down his throat and making him swallow. He felt ill and didn't sleep most nights. Staying up and staring at the flickering flames he undoubtedly hovered on the verge of sleep and awake, startling up from the uncomfortable positions he seemed to drift off to when his muscles protested painfully enough.

But he never even considered the real reason for his sickness.

And so weeks turned to months and soon three months had passed since Miroku had felt hope in his heart, having had it crushed.

During that time the monk could see his friends talking about him in hushed tones, worried. Even Inuyasha seemed to have started to care. The hanyo had nearly beaten him senseless once, resorting to violence when he wasn't getting an answer to his question as to why Miroku was behaving the way he did any other way. He'd even threatened to divulge to the girls that he'd smelled his brothers scent all over Miroku months ago. Miroku had answered him by threatening him with his binding tags. Inuyasha had backed down, but Miroku knew he'd only added to the hanyou's suspicions.

Miroku sighed, shaking the thoughts from his mind. There were black circles under his eyes and he was almost continually feeling faint, having to steady himself when he got up. But it was probably just because he wasn't eating well.

He felt so tired but could not sleep. Because when he slept, memories of his night with Sesshomaru came to him.

The way the youkai lord's silver hair bounced up and descended down around them as he drew in and out from Miroku's body. The way the youkai had nibbled a trail down from collarbone to hip, fingers doing unspeakable, gentle things to him, teasing. His sweet kisses. And the way he'd looked down at him, making him feel like he was the most precious and cherished thing in the world.

Miroku didn't even notice when he'd started crying. Violent sobs wracked his body, making him breathe in short painful gasps. He couldn't take it anymore. Enough was enough.

He scrounged inside of his robes for the blade he'd acquired somewhere some time ago. Unbeknownst to the others, of course. Couldn't have them foil his plan.

He had not believed he would ever get this far.

He'd always believed that if the choice was to live or die he'd choose life. But the life he was now living was hurting him too much. His emotions all over the place, his body betraying him, slowly wasting away. He just wanted it to end, the curse and Naraku be damned, he was just so tired, miserable and weak. He just wanted the peace of nothingness. To be released. And it would teach Sesshomaru to be more careful with the people he loved.

The initial pang of pain made him shudder, feeling the warm, thick liquid seep from his slit wrists and onto his robes. He felt something rebel inside of him as the blade cut to his flesh, it was something he couldn't place. Soon it subsided as he weakened, consciousness faltering.

The knife slid from his hand to the grass.

It was nice when his vision began to blur, Sesshomaru's face fading from his mind, being consumed by the welcoming darkness. No memories, no regrets, no life. His limp form slumped down to the ground, life ebbing away from him.

* * * *

It was Inuyasha who found Miroku.

He'd been roused from his half sleep by the thump of Miroku's body as it collided with the forest floor. Something in the way the monk was sprawled down made Inuyasha hurry to him and curse when he could see the monk close up.

And he smelled it, the lingering bittersweetness of death. It was coming out from Miroku in waves, it was not only his wounds, it was his spirit letting out his dejectedness. The darkness of his crushed heart overwhelming.

Miroku's face was devoid of colour, robes stained with crimson blood, wrists open, the blood flowing. Having no time, Inuyasha grabbed the monks wrists, putting pressure to the veins, trying to stop the blood. He could feel Miroku on the brink, wanting to cross over, he would not let him.

”Kagome! Wake up!” He bellowed out, rousing both the would be miko and Sango. Kagome rose groggily and unsteadily, looking around.

”Kagome! I need bandages! Hurry!”

Kagome and Sango gasped when their eyes focused to Inuyasha kneeling down on Miroku's side, hands gripping the monk's bloodied wrists. Kagome rushed to her pack to rummage through it until she found some gauze. She hurried to the two men, muttering panicked words under her breath. Sango was right beside them, picking up the bloodstained blade.

”He tried to kill himself, the fool!” She breathed angrily, tossing the knife aside.

In the background Kagome was winding the gauze around Miroku's slit wrists, weeping. She was careful to keep the bandages tight, making sure the pad of gauze keeping pressure to the wound wasn't too loose. ”How could he, I thought he trusted us...”

They hadn't expected anything this harsh but they had all noticed the change in the formerly exuberant and lively monk.

Miroku had been brooding and wasting away for months. They had all tried to get to him, to reason with him. Stop his path of self-destruction. They should have taken the signs more seriously, his heavy mindedness, the insomnia, refusal of food, should have made him tell them. Quilt weighted heavily on Inuyasha, he'd known something was wrong but had done nothing to prevent something like..this.

“He looks so pale”, Kagome murmured when she sat down after having bandaged the monk's wrists. Miroku's face was ghastly pale, with an ashen tint to it. But his chest continued to fall and rise, telling that he had not yet been drawn to death's grim and eternal embrace.

Inuyasha cursed under his breath. He knew his brother must have done something really bad to the monk after all. The way the monk denied all of his accusations the hanyou suspected that Sesshomaru must have forced himself on the monk. To Inuyasha that was unforgivable, he vowed to himself that he'd really try to kill his brother the next time he saw the arrogant bastard for doing such things to his friend, making him resort to such desperate actions. But for now, the monk needed attending to.

Inuyasha picked up the limp form of the monk, “I need to get him to Kaede's..”

“No, you shouldn't move him! His wounds!”

“But none of us are healers! He's lost too much blood!” The hanyo would not say that Miroku was dying, he would not tempt the fates.

“Inuyasha, put him down! He needs to lay down, moving him will only worsen his condition!”, Sango ordered, harsh. She didn't care for the monk in a way the other had hoped she could have, but she still worried, seeing him like this, so near death.

In the end, they were friends, all of them. Sango's harsh tone stemmed also from her feelings of not being trusted. Miroku must have harboured something terrible inside of him for wanting to take his own life. She'd thought the monk would have resorted to revenge, like she herself had, though misguided at the time, against whomever had offended him so. Sango had observed the monk during these past few months, he seemed to have suffered some kind of emotional blow. So it seemed the monk was vulnerable inside, his attitude and actions a mask over his true self. Inside Miroku was fragile.

Inuyasha nodded in agreement, seeing the sense in their words. He was always one for rash actions, thinking beforehand not his forte. But this time he was right to hurry. He was keenly aware of the life fading away from Mroku as they spoke.

“Lay him down here..”, Kagome instructed, indicating her sleeping back. With uncharacteristic care the hanyo lay the monk down and Kagome covered him with a blanket.

She felt Miroku's pulse, checking the bandaged wrists, the gauze already turning red. She sighed, they were not equipped for this. She was not knowledgeable enough. The monk sifted slightly, a silent moan escaping his lips.

Both Sango and Inuyasha gathered beside Kagome at the sound.

“So he didn't lose that much blood.” Sango sighed in relief. Inuyasha shook his head at that, Sango giving him a concerned look as she saw the gesture.

Kagome signalled to them and they regrouped a few yards away and spoke in hushed tones.

“He'll need medicine, a healer.”

“He needs some attention and soon. That wound and that he's willing to die, I can sense that he's fading fast.”

“This is bad... What can we do?”

“There is a place where he could rest and be taken care of, if the bastard owning it would ever let any of us near it. It isn't far.” Inuyasha knew he shouldn't have been even thinking about that place. But it might be the only chance their friend had. Even with the wounds but Miroku's health was poor already, his body not strong enough to fight this.

Inuyasha's face was grim. He always knew how far or close they were to that place. It was second nature to him to know. He had avoided it for so long, only having been there once, briefly.

“What place?”, Kagome inquired.

“My castle.”

They all spun around in alarm at the voice, weapons ready. For it was Sesshomaru who'd spoken.

“What are you doing here, bastard?” Inuyasha snarled, Tessaiga ready in his hands. Never mind that his brother's over sized dwelling was nearby, the hanyou wasn't letting him near his friend.

Sesshomaru regarded all of them coolly, noticing the monk's absence. In the month's that he'd been apart from the monk, he'd fully realized the err in his actions. He craved for his lover's presence. Craved to touch, to feel. To have that pliant beautiful body under him, his precious flower. His love.

The youkai lord finally spotted Miroku behind the group, laying on the ground. He cursed inwardly for not having noticed the scent of his love's blood straight away. Now it screamed to him, screamed to his senses that the one he loved was hurt. It told him Miroku was nearing death.

In a rush of silver, white and red he slid past Inuyasha, Kagome and Sango, and knelt down to his love, taking a cold hands into his own. There was a change in the air and he just barely jumped out of harms way, snarling at his brother, eyes bleeding to crimson.

“Don't touch him! You seriously thought I wouldn't smell you all over him!? You forced yourself on him, didn't you? That's why he's been so moody and tried to kill himself!”

The girls gasped on the background, throwing murderous glares towards Sesshomaru. Sango gripping her Hiraikotsu, which she'd snatched from the ground, in her hands. Kagome was scanning frantically for her bow and quiver. They were appalled that Inuyasha hadn't told them but knew he'd probably done it to protect Miroku's privacy.

Sesshomaru was barely able to contain himself, his claws were already oozing the venom that was his weapon of choice when he really wanted someone to suffer.

“I did no such thing.” His voice was cracking slightly from the anger he felt. Leave it to his brother to jump to all the wrong conclusions... For he did not believe that Miroku would ever tell such things. “He was more than willing.”

Inuyasha narrowed his eyes, not quite believing. The two brothers both glanced at the monk.

“You can smell it, can you?”, Sesshomaru asked his brother, making Inuyasha's head snap to meet his brothers eyes, “The smell of approaching death.” Inuyasha averted his gaze and ignored the accusing words coming from his friends. He could not deny the truth. Miroku was slipping away rabidly. He needed to go to Sesshomaru's castle, needed a healer. Needed blood.

Inuyasha hadn't grown up to know all the subtleties of the youkai society but he knew Miroku's life could be saved by bonding to a strong youkai. He snapped his head up as he saw Sesshomaru abandon his protective stance and kneel once again next to Miroku. Inuyasha halted the girls with his outstretched hand.

“Do you love him?”

Sesshomaru breathed in a long, dejected sigh before answering. “Yes. I do love him.” Kagome crumpled down on the forest floor, Sango beside her barely able to stand up from the shock. Inuyasha's eyes grew very wide from the astonishment.

“Then save him and hope he won't try to kill you once he finds out you're bonded.”

Sesshomaru smirked. Inuyasha had to rub his eyes, the sight of the youkai lord giving out a smirk so unlike his usual sneer was so outré. Sesshomaru's softly spoken words made him breath in in surprise.

“Oh, he won't. He'll be very happy, I know.”

Sesshomaru gently eased a hand under Miroku, tilting his neck. Then he did something even Inuyasha hadn't expected. He tore open the vein on his throat with a claw, making the blood flow out. Pressing Miroku's mouth against his neck he let the other drink.

The friends turned away. The act was so intimate, so unlike the stoic lord. They did not wish to disturb. And it convinced them for Sesshomaru's love for Miroku, that he'd let his façade drop in front of them to save his lover.

* * * *

He stirred slowly from the darkness he'd so gladly embraced. He was disappointed, he should have left his friends, they had apparently found him too early.

When he opened his eyes he focused on the face above him, looking down at him. He was in a one- armed embrace. He understood who was holding him even before his blurred vision cleared.

“Sesshomaru...”, he sobbed, throwing him against the warm chest. His heartache of weeks, months past came out in long, painful shudders. Tears drenched the front of Sesshomaru's clothes. Miroku was so glad. He was happy like a frightened child who was being comforted by a parent. The trust was not altogether there, not yet, but Miroku was just coming to himself and enjoying Sesshomaru just being there. Holding and being held.

He felt as if his heart could break as a loving kiss was pressed to his lips. Maybe he had indeed died and this was the afterlife. This was his wish fulfilled.

“You made me frightened. I seldom experience that feeling...”, Sesshomaru murmured against his lips as the kiss ended. “I feared for you, laying there, hurt, so near death. I'll not tolerate you resorting to something like that ever again. I love you too much...”

A low growl resonated from Sesshomaru, vibrating against Miroku's chest. “You will never try to harm yourself again, I forbid it.”

“Sesshomaru?”

“Hmm?...” Sesshomaru was planting kisses on Miroku's neckline, having manoeuvred the monk to lay on his side. They were covered by rich, soft sheets. The monk observed that he was in a huge, lushly decorated room. What he could see from between the gaps of the thin, veil-like draperies hanging around the bed, the room seemed to be particularly spacious and comfy. He heard the voice of birds chirping from the outside.

“What am I doing here? You said you'd not bring me here, that I'd be better off with no-one knowing about our love...”

Miroku had to know. He was hoping against all hope that Sesshomaru would really be taking him into his heart and home. Sesshomaru's lips descended against his, demanding, hungry. He left Miroku breathless.

“Never doubt my conviction to you!” His eyes were flashing to red and then back to their usual golden yellow. Like on the night they'd made love. “I bonded with you, can you not feel the power of that bond? My blood in your veins. And I intend to make you my mate. And ravish you night after night until you can't even stand...”

Miroku was on top of the world, crying tears of happiness.

“I love you, I truly do! When did you bond with me?”

“I did it to save your life, but I would have done it anyway.”

Sesshomaru leaned close to Miroku, laying a hand down on his stomach. “For you and our child...”

Miroku stared at Sesshomaru. He could not have heard right, could he? Had Sesshomaru said 'For you and our child'? He had, the youkai lord would not jest over such matters. But how could he, oh, kami-sama...

“What? No, I'm male. We don't have children!” Miroku was panicked, breathing in harshly, eyes wide.

“Your scent tells me otherwise, you are with child, my child. Our child.” Sesshomaru's golden eyes were full of the love he shoved only towards few. It built an unbelievable happiness within Miroku, making him feel every bit as special as he knew the youkai felt he was.

The lord of the Western lands pulled his would be mate in a strong but gentle embrace. He was finally content. He would keep his love safe and their child would ensure the succession. But even if there wouldn't have been a child, he would have still mated with Miroku. He loved the human so much. He pressed a sweet reassuring kiss to Miroku's brow, soothing his agitated lover.

“Hush.. Do not doubt my words but also do not doubt how happy you've made me. I do not know what force enabled you to conceive but you are with child and I'll protect you even with my life if need be.”

Miroku sobbed when the truth sank in. “But the baby will be born with the Kazaana in his hand. My curse will continue in our child as long as Naraku lives, you will have to watch our child die someday.”

He was silent for a moment and then sobbed.

“You'll have to watch me die too, consumed by it!”

“Not while I still have my strength. I will surely defeat Naraku and make you safe. I, lord Sesshomaru promise you that. Do not grieve my love, let us have this moment. Let not our reunion be dimmed. Rejoice with me because of our love and that we are together and will not part if I have a say on the matter.”

And they melted into sweet embraces, Miroku's tears wiped away.

This is the one I'm writing the SessMiro pron for.^^