By the time Kabuto returned, he'd managed to purchase or steal the basics to a lab; tubes to fashion a makeshift IV, thick nylon for restraints, vials and bottles for mixing and storage, along with anything else that might prove useful. The fever was separate, and he was sure to recommend to Orochimaru-sama that the patient be left to him. That was more like their normal arrangement, anyway. The grey-haired teen lived two lives right now -- the helpful herbalist's assistant and the med-nin trying to keep a valuable subject from dying -- and two lives was hardly something he had to sweat over.

It's the fourth day by the time he manages to stabilize the other's body enough for him to wake, a makeshift IV feeding a painkiller into his veins, restraints holding him to the table. Fortunately, Kabuto was nearby when he heard the other stir, and he moves to glance over, checking the security of the restraints. "How do you feel, Uchiha-san?"