It was the end to a dreary day and Sasori felt inclined to check on his small son. He cracked open the door and slipped into the dark room. His son lay twisted in the sheets his small round face flushed and drenched in sweat. Thunder shattered the steady pounding of pouring rain and bolts of lightning arched across the sky. Glass and crystalline items rattled somewhere in the tower. He brushed his son's fiery sticky hair out off his sweaty forehead and unravelled the blankets from his limbs and tucked him in.
Biting his lip he, rested his cold hard cheek against his brow before pulling away. For two days his son had been like this and he had no idea of how to help. He closed the curtain as more lightning lit up the sky, closing out the storm. Normally his son would have been huddling inside his puppet Hiruko trying to hide from the frightening sound: a phobia he developed after Deidara all but kidnapped him and took him flying in the heart of a particularly nasty one that reportedly spawned multiple tornadoes. But now he was lying chilled and hot, another victim of the epidemic that was sweeping the land. He slowly paced back to the bed and swept his hand across his son's cheek once more before leaving, shutting the door gently behind him.
...
Everything was dark and wet as rain cascaded from the sky. He was on a raft being tossed about on dark waves that crashed across the raft drenching him in freezing water as lightning arched across the sky. He'd been tossed and bashed about by the churning waters for a day and a half. He braced himself as another wave swept over the raft. He closed his eyes gripping the edge of the wooden raft for dear life, choking as the force of the frigid water hit his chest like an iceberg knocking the precious air from his lungs. He coughed and sputtered intermittently as water spurted from his lips. His throat was already dry with salt and dehydration. He'd had nothing to drink since he'd fallen onto this raft in the middle of this black boiling ocean. He'd already lost his voice shouting for hours for his father. But his father had never appeared. His father was always there, always came for him because his father stressed the importance of never keeping people waiting, but to contradict that here he was: waiting. He hated being alone. His father was always there, especially during thunderstorms.
...
But at one point he fancied he heard a voice over the crashing thunder and roaring waves calling his name. "Saxel, Saxel, Saxel, Saxel." But the voice was gone and he was still alone on a raft being buffeted from all sides by giant waves.
Another wave crashed over him and the raft dipped dangerously. He choked inhaling water that stung and burned his throat. Then he was flipping, tumbling beneath the foamy black surf tumbling and choking beneath the dark waves, his hands no longer clinging to comforting hard wood. Disoriented his eyes opened and he tried to right himself and swim to the surface, but everything was black. His lungs burned as he attempted to rise to the surface, but the glacial water froze his small body and his limbs felt heavy and his movements slowed.
...
"Itachi!" Sasori shouted. He'd heard Saxel coughing in his sleep and had returned to check on him to discover the pillow case was covered in a dark crimson stain. "Itach-" The dark haired ninja appeared in the door way and was at the bedside instantly. "We need a doctor. I don't care how we do it or what it takes, he needs a doctor."
"Sasori," Itachi whispered pulling the puppet master into a tight embrace. "I'll get one in the morning."
...
The last of his precious air escaped his lips and cold air froze his lungs. His eyes widened his limbs fell still stretching vainly upward and he was sinking. The cold water pulling him downward and he was sinking. He was going to die and his father wasn't there to save him. He was alone and his chest ached with a pain that had nothing to do with being water logged. He was sinking. Sinking, lost in dark waters alone and unloved, sinking.
Then he was falling. He was falling, the black stormy waters suspended above him and he was falling through air? Strange flacks of light appeared in the dark water above, strangely taking the shape of stars. Air rushed passed him and he coughed, cold water now heated by his lungs escaped his throat and he heaved, sucking in precious air. He landed with an 'oof.'
Looking down his was sitting in a floating chair. He had just a second to look around to see he was inside some kind of tunnel before the chair tipped forward and he was falling again.