Rebuilding Life by Raven Winchester

Blood

**A/N Hello all! I got the inspiration for this little number out of the blue so even though its almost midnight where I am, I figured I would post it! This is part 1 of a potential trilogy. As always reviews, comments, anything is appreciated! 

***Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha, or My Chemical Romance nor their song lyrics loosely used in this oneshot. I am in no way affiliated with any of the companies/persons mentioned. 

Blood. Sweat. Death. 

 That was he had permanently ingrained into his brain, his senses, almost his very being. It had to be, he couldn’t get rid of it by any means tried willingly or not so willingly. He stared down at the bottle in his hand, drinking in another breathtaking, throat burning swig. ‘A drink,’ he thought to himself, swirling the clear contents around as his eyes tried to focus on the liquid. ‘For the horror that I’m in, for the monsters that I have been, for the awful things that I’ve seen.’ He put his head down on the lacquered wood table before him for just a second, and almost jumped out of his skin when his wife put a hand to his shoulder. Her sympathetic face came into his sight and instantly enraged him, he didn’t deserve sympathy from her, and he damn sure didn’t want it!

 “I’m undeserving of your sympathy!” He hissed out in a soft voice, his voice rising with every word that left him. The mason jar in his right hand nearly shattered with the sudden force of his unnatural rage. His eyes narrowed into golden slits as he looked down at the petite onyx haired woman that couldn’t have even reached his chest if she tried. Widened blue eyes stared up at him in poorly concealed fear as he snarled. “There’s no way that I’m sorry for what I did, gods damn it, Kagome!” How could you cry for me when I don’t regret it?!” His voice cracked at the end, shoulders falling as he realized that he was going off on her for something that she had no control over. She wasn’t there to witness it, the war was over, even if he hadn’t left it yet. 

He put his head down again, this time not jumping as her touch invaded his senses again. It was too kind, too soft for someone like himself. He didn’t deserve a loving touch after all the atrocities he had committed in the war. Her smooth skin dancing over the scars on his back from shrapnel made him want to vomit the moonshine he drank right back up. He was so disgusted with himself, he almost missed her whisper.

 “When will death release his hold on you, Sess?”

 “Darling, death shall never touch one like myself.” He responded, deadend gold eyes meeting her light blue.