The penalties of being alone. Angst warning, 650 words.

Hidden

When he was a little boy, Kakashi used to cry a lot. No one ever knew, because he always did it alone, when no one would miss him. The reasons were simple ones: there was no one to touch him, no one to smile at him, no one to take care of him when he was sick, no one to care if he was sick, even – not really, not care for him. He wanted desperately to have someone find him, and see what was wrong, and just hold him, not even talk to him, not ask what was wrong, or if he was alright, but just pick him up and cuddle him and let him cry on them and be there. But he was also desperately ashamed that he would want something like that, that he couldn't take care of it on his own like everyone thought he should be able to, that he might need what they so obviously didn't want to give. He was sure he wasn't wanted, but what he wanted, most of all, was for someone to want him, but there wasn't anyone who would, who could, who did, and he knew that the village was distantly proud of him – sort of – and he didn't want to disgust them, to disappoint them, to drive them away any more than he did by just being him. So he hid his tears in darkness and rain, in distant places and under sheets, away from everyone and at times when there was no chance someone might find out.

After a while he realized that he was so sad because he was lonely, because he didn't have a family like most everyone else did. He didn't remember his mother, and he didn't want to remember his father. But he did want a family, he did want a parent. Two parents. Maybe some brothers and sisters, maybe some cousins, maybe some friends. A family. But this was even more shameful, and so he kept on hiding his tears, and being nasty – he knew perfectly well he acted cruel and spoiled and cold but he didn't know how to stop and he was afraid to anyway – and then Obito died.

The Uchiha didn't really want him. He had a sharingan, but it wasn't his sharingan, and he wasn't an Uchiha and he wasn't up to their standards. He wasn't one of them. They taught him how to work the eye, no more. He was afraid to ask for more.

Sometime around then he stopped wanting to be adopted by a family and started wanting to make one of his own, to find someone his own age to be family with. Someone he could hold when they were upset, someone he could take care of when they were sick, someone he could comfort and support and depend upon to do the same for him, but he didn't want pity, he wanted love, and so he kept himself to himself and then Rin died.

And then Itachi left.

And then he had to quit the Anbu because he couldn't keep up, and he was so bitterly disappointed with himself that he thought about dying but he didn't dare because that was too much like screaming.

And then…

And then Sandaime died.

And then Sasuke – his Sasuke, his precious student, his almost-son – left the village. Left him. Rejected him in favor of Orochimaru.

Kakashi still cries when nobody knows, hiding his tears in darkness and rain, in distant places and under sheets, away from everyone and at times when there is no chance someone might find out. He still wants a family and he still doesn't have anyone to be that family. He's still ashamed of wanting more than he's offered, of needing what he doesn't think anyone wants to give. He doesn't cry a lot, though, any more, because he doesn't have the time.

end
.: I'm hiding from you please come find me :.