A/N: Hey! Please enjoy! This is my first Fanfic and I'm really excited to see what others think about this! Leave a review at the end! Also, if anyone is interested time span wise, this is Post-Rescue Arc.
Edit: 3/8/13 - Wow, I wrote this the summer of 8th grade and posted it during my freshman year- in high school. Ugh, I was such a fangirl who couldn't edit AT ALL. Yeah, so I'd delete the entire thing and pretend I never typed this out, but I have sentimental attachment to this. So, I forced myself to do a little bit of a cleanup by correcting the grammar fails, fixing some of the awkward phrasing, deleting a lot of the repetitive description, and cleaned up sections so they formed a little bit of plausible story line. Anyway, yeah, sorry Fanfiction for plaguing the internet with this for so many years. I won't write something like this again. I promise.
Disclaimer: I, unfortunately, do not, and never will, own any characters from the Naruto franchise; therefore, I am gaining no money off of this... darn.
Nighttime therapy
Nighttime fell over the far horizon, dipping down behind the far off sand dunes as the color around faded. Darkness slowly started to encase the surrounding desert; the collected heat from the sand continued to simmer as if the sun still beat down harshly from above. The death of color to the barren ambiance was reminiscent to the snuffing out of a candle in a dark room. Nothing could be seen or heard... Only distorted outlines of objects were visible…. Objects that didn't belong in the desert.
This was the situation Kankuro found himself in. He had no idea where he was or why he was there. His memory was frazzled, feeling as though someone had cut the metaphorical strings to his thoughts. Everything seemed upside down and he had to resist the urge to vomit from the uneasiness of the place.
He glanced up at the moon as it began to rise over the distant dunes of sand. The feeling as the moon gleamed was eerie, yet, calming, despite Kankuro's quickening breath of panic.
Kankuro glanced around, widely, looking for the village, a person, or even an object to help explain his predicament. But, all he could spot was empty desert. No rocks, no plants, no animals, no people, and certainly no village- just sand in every visible direction. It didn't make sense. How had he gotten here? Where was he? Where were Gaara and Temari? He pondered, wearily.
Then, snapping him out of his confused stupor, Kankuro's heard something. It was a faint sound, barely audible, but was just loud enough for Kankuro's keenly trained ears to pick up. Light footsteps. He wretched himself around, searching for any sigh of life. Nothing. To Kankuro's dismay, the haunting footsteps continued to get more prominent, closer.
"Who's there!?" He shouted, gaping a little at the weakness that was apparent in his voice. Had he lost all self-control as well when god knows who put him here?
He continued to scan his proximity, looking for the source of the sound, but was distraught to see no impression in the imagery around him. Withdrawing back, Kankuro knelt down in a defensive crouch he had used for years, trying to think of way to gain any tactical position over the bizarre scenery.
But, just as a straggling thought about a plan of action came to him, the footsteps abruptly stopped. Silence pervaded the air, even quieting the wind that bristled against Kankuro's sun kissed skin. Kankuro shifted on his feet, continuing to gaze out over the distance. But once again, he was met with nothing.
"What is going on?" He asked, forcing the words to come from his mouth.
"Oh, that's simple! Un." A loud voice rang out from behind. With a surprised jolt, Kankuro spun around expecting to see nothing, as before, but was surprised to face a very familiar figure. Standing there, confidently, with his sandals planted firmly in the sand, was no other than the blond haired Akatsuki member, who had attacked the village only a few months ago. Grinning like a true madman, the man stood tall with his image elongated by the black robes, decorated with the notorious red clouds. He sneered as the moonlight showcased the bright blue gleam in his eyes.
"That's right. You know who I am, un." The Akatsuki member smile seemed to amplify as one thought finally reached Kankuro's mind. Puppets. On instinct, he drew out the appropriate chakra strings, but was shocked to find that he had none of his puppets; not even crow, which usually rested securely on a pack strapped to his back. "Oh! Have you finally realized that your toys are not here? Yes?" He blond haired man mocked, taking Kankuro's look of pure shock in with glee. "Well, good, because it's just you and me!" At that, a big wad of clay appeared, coming from the man's hands.
Memories flashed through Kankuro's mind as he recalled the battle Gaara had fought against the Akatsuki. It's a bomb. Kankuro realized as he watched the clay bird fly straight towards him. Knowing there was no way to avoid the attack, he shut his eyes, awaiting the inevitable end. But, the pain never came.
Instead, a large crash sounded and Kankuro wretched his eyes open just in time for a large title wave of sand to arch in front of him. Sand? Only one person as of Suna could control that. Gaara. And, as if on cue, Kankuro's gaze found Gaara, who was standing only a few feet away. He looked as impassive and serious as ever with his hands outstretched out in front of him. His skin glowed with an unnatural glassy hue as he twisted his hands upward, ordering the sand wall that was in front of Kankuro into a more offensive position.
"Gaara!" Kankuro chocked in surprise as he stared at his brother, who spared him no more than a glance.
"Well, Well, Well, I see the other brother has decided to show up! Huh, that's better for me! Now you both can see the true power of my art!" The villain shouted, simultaneously throwing up another clay birds, preforming a peculiar hand sign. The bird inflated and he hopped on its back, soaring into the night sky.
Kankuro observed the Akatsuki's movements, trying to detect any signs of further attack. His eyes shifted over to Gaara who, to his horror, began to levitate himself on a small cloud of sand. Kankuro let out a slight yelp from his throat at the sight, reaching out trying to urge Gaara down off. His hand caught his brother's silk sleeve right before he'd floated out of reach.
"Gaara! Don't! We can't fight him like that!" Kankuro shouted, distressed, his punk persona gone. Gaara ignored his request though, tugging his hand free from Kankuro.
"Stay here, I will finish this." Gaara informed him, stoically, as he ascended higher.
Kankuro continued to watch as the Kazekage, his younger brother, pressed forward into the battle. The fight as a whole was almost identical to the battle fought above Suna. Kankuro gazed at the fight in horror as he listened to the blond hair pyromaniac avoid every attack his younger brother implemented. It was a nightmare. Kankuro's nightmare. He had failed Gaara once to the Akatsuki when he had done nothing last time. Would he have to repeat the experience? Kankuro flinched when he saw the Akatsuki member flung another explosive in his direction.
Squinting at the intense light from the explosive, Kankuro watched as Gaara used most of his strength to force the sand to deflect the bomb. The blond haired Akatsuki laughed and flew closer to where Gaara stood in the air.
"Hmm, I hope you're brother knows you care enough to sacrifice yourself. Because this is the end!" He announced, boisterously, as his body started to expand and distort. Kankuro watched helplessly as the Akatsuki began to detonate himself. Before he could yell a warning, the bomb lit the night sky.
Kankuro was blinded for a moment by the colors and intense light, but it ended quick enough to see Gaara land on a sand dune far off.
Fear stuck Kankuro as quick as if a kunai had been slashed through his chest. He raced forward, feet moving as fast as possible to the unmoving figure of Gaara. Kankuro's heart beat widely against his breast, his feet not matching the panic he felt.
When he finally reached Gaara, he was horrified at what he found. Gaara lay motionless, his robes and skin burnt, badly, his flesh charred and rubbed down to a raw red. His face and visible limbs were creaked and what was left of the 'invisible' sand armor flecked off with his real skin. What wasn't burned was left an unnatural hue of almost translucent white. His whole body was caked in blood that seemed to mingle together with his shredded red battle garb and blood drenched hair. His eyes were open but the clear blue orbs seemed unresponsive.
No! He can't die, again! Kankuro managed to process, frantically, as he rushed to his brother's side, even more horrified at the damage on the red-head's body closer up. "Gaara!" He yelled, despite the fact he was only an arm's length away. He reached down and grabbed his brother bleeding and clammy wrist. There was a pulse, but it was rapidly fluttering out. Blood flowed from Gaara's forehead and it caked Kankuro's arms as he hoisted Gaara's body onto his lap. "Hold on, Gaara!" Kankuro spat out as he frantically tried to think of a way to fix this situation.
Gaara's distant blue eyes turned their attention on Kankuro. Pulling his hand upwards, Gaara attempted to catch Kankuro's shoulder but his energy was fading. Kankuro met him half way and they clasped hands.
"K-K-Kank-uro," Gaara rasped, blood trailing from his mouth as he spoke. His voice was hoarse and garbled as though the blood was attempting to suffocate him. Kankuro, seeing this, pulled Gaara to lean against as he tried to alleviate some of the strain on the other man's beaten body. "I-I'm- I'm… S-sorry…." He said, at long last, in a soft whisper. And with that, all breath seceded from Gaara's body.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0
Everything seemed twisted together. Sand and moonlight were absent; darkness was the only absolute. No moon, no people, no sand, no blood. All gone. All that remained was darkness and the waning feeling of being enclosed. Air seemed to be hard to draw in the darkness, feeling stiff and starch.
Kankuro felt all of this, but his confused state left him utterly stunned, lying there in searing darkness trying to find his place. He remained on his back with his breath coming in short panicked heaves while his heart pounded widely against his chest as though it were trying to break free of human confinement. At the same time, his sluggish head attempted to be dust the metaphorical cobwebs in his brain away, allowing his mind to control itself.
And once it did, several things started to come to his attention. A couple were rather concerning. One, he realized that he was seemingly smothered underneath some kind of sheet. This realization left a horrible feeling in Kankuro's already turning stomach as he tried to figure out why he was seemingly trapped between fabrics in an unknown circumstance. But, what really hit him hard, were the strangling thoughts and images that had previously unfolded in front of him. Gaara. Gaara fighting over a starless sky, Gaara bleeding to death in the moonlit sand, and Gaara dying in his arms. And once the distorted and demented images had time to properly process through Kankuro's brain, true panic sunk in. Where was he? Why did he feel bind? Where was Gaara?In fact, where was anyone? Kankuro didn't know, but he intended to find out.
Without prompting, he let lose a string of curses as he kicked and pulled widely, fighting the cloth that seemed to trap him in perpetual darkness. But the material around him did not seem to want to relinquish its hold though and continued to constrict movement, making him feel as though someone had placed him in a strait jacket. He continued to struggle even rolling over in attempt to free himself. Once he did that, he was met with a rather quick, if not frightening, end to the onside brawl.
Kankuro felt himself tip over an edge. Fear ripped through his entire being as he felt himself fall, but was relieved to find his descent to who-knows-where ceased, meeting, back first, some solid ground. And, it was then, when he hit the floor, did the cloth surrounding him seem to weaken its hold on him, giving him the opportunity to peel it off.
What he found was a completely eye opening realization. A sliver of moonlight was the first thing his eyes meet with as his gaze turned upon a shadowed room. Searching the darkened room, Kankuro could make out the shape of a nearby bench and desk lamp. His attention turned from left to right, frantically, as he looked to every object in the room that could catch his eye. And just as he met with the very familiar shape of Crow's lifeless form and scraggly hair resting atop a nearby shelf, a realization hit him through his fogged and stressed brain.
This is my room. His rather comatose head pieced together. His slight panic, of total confusion, dying off a little as he caught his breath.
He slide down and lay against the rough carpet, allowing it to rub against his sweat drenched skin. He glanced down at the sheets now tangled along his body; its green scraggly fabric pulled off enough to reveal his white sweat glossed chest that seemed to glow with the moonlight. The momentary feeling of understanding, and embarrassment, met up with him as he surmised nothing had been retaining him at all and that he had just had a physical fight with his own bed sheets. A fight he, surely, would not go around boasting about to his friends if he wanted to retain any of his masculinity.
Still breathing hard, Kankuro attempted to get his heartbeat to slow. But despite his attempt to lay there and let his aching limbs lie still, his heart still thumped at a rate as if he had run about twenty laps around Suna's outer wall. The panic in his heart once again reminded him of his source of confusion. Gaara. Kankuro's eyes widened in horror as images of sand, blood, and starless sky streaked his mind once more.
The now familiar panic froze his insides to something undoubtedly painful. So the jarring fashion he pulled himself into a sitting position was upsetting to say the least; Kankuro had to sit there for several seconds with his hand over mouth, trying not to lose the will to purge all the contents from his insides onto the floor. Quickly gaining his equilibrium after a few minutes, he grabbed onto his sheet-less bed and hauled himself to his feet, wavering slightly in pain and astonishment as his quivering feet that seemed to want to disobey his intentions. Adrenaline and fear pulsed through his system; his fear for Gaara foremost. So, his wobbly legs soon straightened into a more secure step as Kankuro's sluggish mind tried to surmise his next move.
Shivering slightly by the cool air meeting Kankuro's skin, he wretched open his draws and pulled out a set of battle garb and placed them on himself in a series of frenzied tugs, ignoring the lack of face paint he always painstakingly remembered to apply. No time for paints tonight though, not tonight, not with the pain and heart ache that weighed on his stiff shoulders, which threatened to make him collapse.
Kankuro grabbed the closest puppet that lay on the table, which happened to be Crow, and he bolted out the door without a word.
Walking into the hallway was like a new world to Kankuro. He felt as though he had been placed into another dream as he slammed the door to his room shut. The only source of light for the hallway was coming from florescent light bulbs above his head. It stunned him for quite a few seconds as he took in his new predicament, but soon pressed on as he raced down the hallway. Only one destination in mind- The Kazekage's bedroom.
Halfway to his destination though, Kankuro realized his rashness as his brain started to fully catch up to the situation. It was a dream, just a dream. Kankuro finally realized. Gaara is fine- he's safe. When the logic caught up with him, Kankuro stopped in a darkened hallway consisting of nothing but shadowy guest rooms, a couple of dimmed and dying light bulbs above his head, and a rather troubled Kankuro.
Leaning against a nearby wall, Kankuro took deep breaths, feeling foolish for dragging himself this far because of a dream. "Calm down, Kankuro…" He, silently, prayed no one would walk down this particular hallway at this time at night and discover him because he had no easy excuse this time to make up for his frantic flight.
Kankuro had similar dreams before. Any normal person had a nightmare or two every so often. Kankuro having dreams was nothing new. What had changed though was the frequent appearance of these dreams in his sleep. Ever since Gaara's death, Kankuro's mind had provided him with a dream every time he closed his eyes and allowed his body to rest. There was no rest for Kankuro by this point because of the blasted nightly terrors. And they were putting him on edge as each one started to become more realistic and lifelike each time. It was rather unnerving.
Kankuro really was starting to wish he could get his hands on the damn thing that was causing him this suffering because he would willingly puncture, pulverize, mash, and mangle the thing with Crow at the moment.
Man, these incidents are starting to get annoying… Kankuro thought, wearily. He sighed and tremendous feeling of doziness settled over him again as he internally cursed himself.
Because of the dreams, this had not been the first incident of a panicked awakening states Kankuro had been through. It would have been a lot less humiliation on Kankuro's part if that was true. No, over three weeks of these dreams hung over his once dreamless state of sleep, causing him tremendous grief. Just in this week, he had woken in a similar state of confusion and fear causing him to rush out of his room in fear in a useless attempt to find his siblings, or a friend at least. He had found himself walking outside of the villages outer wall because off it, really unsure of how or why he had gotten there. A particularly embarrassing incident had been one rather painful dream he had risen from last week when he had retired early because he had pulled a double shift that day. Running through the darkened streets of Suna in nothing but a pair of black boxers and black socks, Kankuro had found his way into Gaara's office in his rather delicate state of mind. He could recall the embarrassment flooding through him as Kankuro tried to explain, using a stammering tongue, as to why he was in the Kazekage's office dressed in a less than presentable manner. Kankuro, evidently, had fled from that scene in a rush, hiding himself away in his room for a least another day to lick his wounded pride. Gaara really should have carted him off to the psychiatric ward just for that incident, but, luckily, the young Kazekage hadn't brought it up again and acted as if the situation hadn't occurred. This only left Kankuro tortured by the mere memory of the event, which was much easier for him to deal with. Similar happenings had occurred with Temari where he had uninvited, entered her room at night, awaking her with his fright, which was quickly beaten out of him by her grouchy mood; and, more literally, with her fan. Baki had also been a tragic victim of one of what he deemed his 'incidents' when he had fallen asleep on a mission and had immediately woken in a stir of fright in his make shift tent. Unfortunately for Baki, Kankuro had had Crow on hand and the only thing that had kept Baki from losing a limb was his old sensei's quick reflexes with a wind sword. That had been a particularly tense situation when he had lamely attempted to explain to a furious Baki why he nearly had sliced his head off in sleep. Overall, these dream flights were just as annoying as the previous and he wished for some reprieve from this nightly heart ache and embarrassment.
Each dream seemed to test his endurance to handle the pressure and, as of late, he wasn't sure he could deal with it anymore. The fear for his siblings never stopped, even during his conscience hours, since it was a true fear that he wouldn't be strong enough to protect either of them. The fear was crippling him. And despite the love he felt for his siblings, he questioned every time, after the initial shock of each dream, if the devotion he had for his family was a good thing. They were starting to tear him apart and Kankuro was sure that it was only a matter of time before they broke him.
All he really wanted was sleep. All he needed was sleep. But, it would not be given to him without the plague of dreams, which he refused to meet by choice. He skipped as many nighttime slumbers as possible if only to avoid the shadowy visions that tortured, prodded, and poked at him mind.
Kankuro sighed and picked himself up, pressing his palm against the poorly painted tan walls of the hallway. Searching around the barren hallway, he sought for some kind of reprieve, but he found none. And now, he was unsure of what to do or where to go.
Gaara. A small voice in the back to his head reminded him as he gained his stance against the marble floor. Yes, Gaara. Slight concern still wavered in Kankuro's mind. This happened every time his dreams were like this. Personally, he knew that they were nothing but dark nightmares; however, there was always the same inkling inside him that told him otherwise. And the only way to tide over the worry was to seek out one of his siblings or Baki. Even just the sight of them seemed to surpress the dark and demented thoughts to the point where they didn't control him.
Stepping tentatively, Kankuro continued his descent down the hallway to the Kazekage's bedchambers. He was at ill ease in the dim hallway and every time he turned his back to one of the coroners of a hallway, he could feel the tension rise through his chest as he had to resist the temptation to turn his back to check behind him. He refused to act like a child who was afraid of his own shadow. It's just the dreams, he told himself belligerently, they are causing me to be on edge, as usual. Kankuro, trying to finally act like the ninja he had trained to be, refused to believe he was afraid of anything in the eerie hall.
The dull tapping sounds of his footsteps echoed as he rounded another corner of the Kazekage's manor. Kankuro, secretly, thanked that fact that he had been forced to grow up in this place or he would be hopelessly lost. The Kazekage's mansion was a large place, one of the largest buildings in all of Suna in fact. It had separate wings within its compound, consisting of many dark and isolated hallways that hadn't even been glanced at in years….
Being large and ominous was a specialty to the mansion, but overall, it was a pretty luxurious home. Not many people besides the main family lived in the place, the exempt being representatives that stayed in the mansion while visiting the Kazekage. But Suna was not an overly popular country, so not many people used those empty barren rooms on the opposite side of the mansion from Kankuro's room. The only one in good agreement with Suna at the moment really was Kahona, but they were welcome in their house anyways.
No, there really was no bother living in such a large home, it was just annoying to navigate around sometimes. Especially since Gaara's room had been moved from down the hall from his room to ALL the way to the Kazekage's old room on the opposite side of the mansion.
His room is much too far away; I'll have to talk to Gaara about this… Kankuro thought, absently, as he took stifled yawn. It took about another two minute trek till he finally reached his destination.
"It's about time, jan." He said as he turned a corner and was faced with another long looming hallway, but unlike the others, a sentry stood pacing two large wood oak doors at the end of the corridor.
Kankuro rubbed his eyes one last time, trying to wipe all signs of weariness from his eyes. He trudged towards the pacing guard not being able to tell who it was because his back was to him.
The sentry turned around though at his approaching figure and the other man's eyes widened at Kankuro's unexpected arrival. "Lord Kankuro?" The young man asked, perplexed, yet, he held a respectively tone because of Kankuro's higher position in the guards. This respect was an aspect of his job, being Gaara's body guard and in charge of security, Kankuro had come enjoy. "Is there some sort of trouble?" Kankuro's brow wrinkled confused as to why the guard would say such a statement. Then, it hit Kankuro like a flat iron to the face. He wasn't wearing his face paint; something he rarely ever neglected when he was on duty. So, it was probably strange to the sentry that Kankuro was without it, although, he was impressed the guard could tell it was him; he really didn't look the same without it on.
"Trouble?" He said, questioned simply, pausing for a moment before responding again. "No, trouble. I've just decided to take your shift tonight…. Isago, right?' Kankuro guessed as he threw out a name from the top of his head. It seemed to be right though for he was not corrected.
"Alright, Lord Kankuro. But tonight you're not on the scheduled rounds." The man's mild brown eyes seemed to light up with confusion even in the dimmed hallway outside of the Kazekage's room.
"Ah, I know that." He replied, bluntly, squaring his shoulders, making his measly three inches above the man prominent in the conversation. "Wasn't getting much rest tonight, so instead of just being useless somewhere else in the building, I thought I might as well make myself useful." Kankuro averted his eyes, but only for a moment. He didn't want this guard to catch on to anything he shouldn't. "I'm sure the Kazekage-san would approve." He added, quickly, knowing he was purposefully pressing this guard into a hard spot.
It seemed to work too, because, before Kankuro could say anything else, Isago pulled out a walkie talkie from his belt. "Reki." He said clearly, pressing a red button on the device. A simple annoyed gruff, 'what' came back from the other line.
"Lord Kankuro is here to take over my shift, so he will be coving the inside now." There was static for a moment before a response came from Reki.
"Ok, I will continue to cover the outside. If there is any trouble I will report immediately to Lord Kankuro." Isago nodded and gave an all clear to Reki and then handed the black device to Kankuro and gave a slow salute.
"At ease- you're off the clock now." Kankuro ordered, without emotion, as the Chunin nodded and walked away a slight twitch in his step as he seemed to fight the urge to bolt. He was obviously happy to be off duty for the night.
Kankuro sighed and turned back to the large wooden doors of the Kazekage's room. He physically restrained from wrenching open the door to get to Gaara and instead allowed his fingers lingered on the door knob to the room a little longer than necessary. Taking a deep breath, Kankuro opened the door.
Immediately on entry, the illuminated light from the hallway poured into the room, causing dim shadows to be seen throughout the once dark room. He entered the room and closed the door behind him, quickly, as though not wanting to be seen.
The room without the hallways light wasn't pitch dark though as an open window on the opposite side of the room let in light, along with an easy breeze. Its hazy shine worked its way across almost all of the room, making each object it touched glow with an almost ghoulish hue.
The room, which was decorated with a dark red color scheme, only held shades of grey and black in the darkness. The feel and look of the room had the out dated feel of an old black and white photograph. Despite the trinkets and pieces of furniture that had been from previous Kage's, the room was very much Gaara's. And looked radically different from the dull colored blue room his father had once occupied, which Kankuro actually had seen very little of in his life.
Kankuro crept farther into the room, hiding in the shadowed areas that that moonlights didn't touch. This act of stealth Kankuro felt, inwardly, felt proud of because it made him more protected- unspotted. His eyes focused on the four post king-sized bed that lay shadowed against the far wall. Stepping forward, Kankuro held his breath as he snuck closer to the bed for a better view of the young Kazekage.
A small, almost childlike, sigh escaped the lump under the red sheets. Kankuro held his breath to stifle any sound as he crept near. He reached down and fingered the red velvet sheet, teasing them back a little to reveal what Kankuro wished to see. His brother's face, delicate and pale in the toneless room. Gaara's shallow breaths caused slight shifts in the sheets as in his sleep he snatched back the section of sheet Kankuro had stolen. Watching with amusement, Kankuro amazed at how peaceful and calm Gaara appeared in sleep versus Gaara when he was awake, who was perpetually in meetings or filling out paper work in his office. It was like looking upon a completely different version of his brother.
With the true precision of an authentic puppeteer's master, Kankuro smoothed the blanket back over Gaara's chest and stepped back, looking at Gaara, letting the senseless fear from before fade away. The dream he had not but a half an hour earlier seemed to sink away, unimportant, as he watched his brother simply breathe- not fighting an Akatsuki, not defending him or the village, not bleeding, not even being a Kazekage …. Just breathing, existing, the easiest things a person could do. This metal image put Kankuro's own mind at rest, pushing away the horrible nightmares.
He sighed, stretching out his weary limbs, realizing for the first time how tired he was. He felt drained, but knew he couldn't not attempt face another attempt at restful sleep.
Looks like it will be a long night a head of us, Kankuro thought turning to his motionless puppet that lay upon his back. Won't it, Crow?
Sighing, Kankuro made his way to an unused desk that rested a couple feet away from the end of Gaara's bed. He sat down in the wooden chair and shrugged Crow off his back and onto the desk, quietly, as to not to disturbed the Kazekage's sleep in fear of being lectured to by the council…. Or worse, Temari. Groaning at the unpleasantness that was Temari's angry wrath, Kankuro undid Crow from its wrappings. After releasing Crow, He realized he would not have enough light to work. So without disturbing Gaara's slumber, he clicked the small blue lamp that rested upon the desk on. It glowed, somberly, in the large room, making some of the room's shadows evaporate; the Kazekage's bedroom, as a whole, still remained rather dim though, but it was just bright enough for Kankuro to work.
Without hesitation, Kankuro swept Crow's white gaze wrappings to the floor while simultaneously detaching Crows head from his body. The decapitated Crow clicked quietly as Kankuro started his annual (daily) check of his puppets poison compartments. After several long tedious minutes of going over the already perfected Crow, Kankuro sighed in fatigue as sleep attempted to knock him out and drag him back to the world of unconsciousness. But, cursing the sand man, Kankuro stifled back a yawn and turned his eyes back up to the sleeping form Gaara.
It's going to be a long night, he declared after yet another rather obnoxious yawn. Kankuro turned his vision to the full moon that continued to stream into the room. Staring into the fluorescent glow, Kankuro was brought back to a vision of night lit moon shining over an oceans length of barren sand. Kankuro shuddered horribly at the memory and turned his gaze from the blasted moon.
He refused to return to that reality.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0
A light clicking sound broke through Gaara's mind. It started soft, as if coming from far away, but steadily got louder. Its steady constant beat remained Gaara of the steady beat of metronome. Was that what the sound was? No, that couldn't be it. Despite the sound coming fourth in a constant tempo, it wasn't terribly strong. In fact, it sounded more like light tapping.
What is that noise? Gaara asked himself in his dozy sleep. The noise continued to progressively get louder, making Gaara feel as if someone had placed a pesky clock next to his head. At each stroke of the sound, Gaara seemed to awaken from what he realized was slumber. He cursed at the tugging sensation of returning to reality. He always hated awakening from sleep.
Rousing from sleep had become something of a new hatred for Gaara. It had only been a couple of weeks, nearly a month, since he had been resurrected. And almost immediately, he'd been forced to 'rest', which had ended with having to sleep truly for the first time ever. The nightmares that had come from that had been horrifying to say the least. The first nightmare Gaara had been an unbearable replay of his death. The others after that had consisted of both his siblings and Baki finding amusement at his death. After a couple days of relentless obstructions, it had left him even more tired than before, when he never slept at all. He had even started suspect he was borderline hallucinating, thinking at times during the day that he was still in personal deliriums instead of consciousness. But his siblings had stepped in and helped him through it, even staying by his bedside at night, if needed. The three of them, Baki included as well, had been there for him until the midnight visions had stopped and normal sleep started to become possible for him. But, he still hated the feeling of awakening. He grogginess seemed to mock him, making him feel as if his body want to make sure he could feel how vulnerable he was in the state. At first, when he had awoken with the horrible feeling, he had brought the idea fourth in worry to Kankuro, thinking there was something wrong with his sleep in particular. Kankuro had just laughed at the statement, and at Gaara's apparent seriousness on the subject, he had responded in a kind manner that it was nothing to worry about because it was a natural experience. Gaara had been skeptical at first, but had not brought the subject up again in fear of appearing foolish. However, he started to wish for the days when sleep hadn't been necessary for him.
Gaara sighed, breaking his mangled thoughts, cutting off the memory of Kankuro's deep laughter from his mind. He groaned, softly, at the grogginess that washed over him. He shifted under the warm blanket that lay over him, listening to the dull clicking noise that sounded more real now. But he still could not fit the sound that he heard with in actual object. Shifting under the covers yet again, Gaara pulled his face more into his fluffed pillow, hoping to just let sleep would just drag him back down into unconsciousness. However, the sound remained persistent and continued despite Gaara's best efforts to ignore it. This was another annoying thing Gaara seemed to have learned about his once non-existing sleeping patterns. He couldn't sleep if there was any sort of environmental stimulus pestering him.
Gaara groaned in protest at the annoying sound, wishing it to go away without his needing to do anything. But before he could do anything, a scuffling sound of feet interrupted the never ending tapping. Gaara's eyes shot open in surprise. Someone's in my room, he thought, wearily, as light stunned his eyes, causing him to blink profusely. He groaned again as the light burning his eyes. Trying to even figure out why there was a light on when he knew he had turned them all out before bed, Gaara pushed himself up against the headboard of his bed.
"Who's th-" His husky voice paused when a figure finally came into Gaara's small, sleep induced, area of view.
"K-Kankuro?" Gaara questioned, heavily, as Gaara finally noted the lamp on his nearby desk was the cause for the light and continued to cause tiny spots to dance in front of his vision. The sudden appearance of light did not catch him off guard though. His older brother's appearance was more of a surprise to him. Kankuro walked over, quietly, his expression calm and more open then Gaara usually ever saw it. He wore his battle garb adorned his body as usual, minus his cat-eared hood. The absence of his head gear was not all that concerning though, it was the fact of the missing face paint that seemed odd.
Kankuro always wore the face paint- always. It was an act Kankuro had come to play often. And, notably, something the puppeteer was good at. He wore it as an act of defense to hide his real thoughts and feelings. He was very good at doing so too- one moment he would be the prudent arrogant ninja he prided himself to be and then the next he'd be the concerned older/younger brother. It was an interesting show he put on, and sometimes it even threw Gaara with how quickly the change occurred. It was as fast as his own sand shield, if not faster at times. But Gaara was not ignorant; Kankuro also wore it for another reason. Kankuro did not want to look like their father. He wore it as defense for himself against others. Because, without his face paint, he really did look like their deceased father. Kankuro's nose was aligned the same way, angling off in a rather pointed manner that their father had possessed. His body structure had the same broad intimidating build that their father had possessed. Kankuro's brown locks were even reminiscent of the shade and color that their father had once own under his Kazekage hat. So in defiance, Kankuro had rebelled in the only way he could in their youth. He had covered up the likeness, disguising the similarities he had with the man all three siblings had dubbed a monster. Thus, the cat ears, the face paint, and the black loose jump suit had been adorned to distort all the features Kankuro hated the most- his father's. The man had been long dead by this point, yet, Kankuro still practiced this apperance. Gaara never said anything, but he suspected that Kankuro had gotten so used to hiding behind the mask he had created himself that he could no longer separate himself from it.
So Gaara gaped at the wavering and tired form on his brother, who wore one of the most open looks he'd seen on him in quite a long time.
"Kankuro, why-?" Gaara started, once again, trying to fight back his idled brain. He was interrupted though by Kankuro sitting down on the side of his bed. Gaara continued to stare Kankuro down, confused, as he watched his brother, who had his own deep circle under his eyes, press a hand to Gaara's chest, pushing him back onto the bed. Kankuro obviously wanted Gaara to back to sleep, but red-head could sense a peculiar situation like this from a mile away.
"Kankuro, what is it? Has something happened?" Gaara spat out, fighting off his languor; He fought the urge to ask his latest question as to why his brother's presence was even around at the moment. The Kazekage knew he was not supposed to be on guard duty tonight. And usually, when he was, Kankuro took post in the hallway like the other sentry's, keeping close watch.
Kankuro stared, without blinking, down at Gaara as though taking him in by sight. This unnerved Gaara for that was something he himself liked to do. Kankuro had a warm smile on his face despite the fact he looked utterly beaten in the dimmed fluorescent light.
"Nothing is wrong. The village is fine. I'm sorry I awoke you. Now, go back to sleep. You and I both know if you don't get enough rest Temari will have my head," he said joked, lowly, a diminished smile on his lips.
Gaara stared at him, trying to find hidden meaning in his light jest, but the unanswered question continued to buzz around in his head. " What a-"
"Gaara, I promise we can talk in the morning. Just sleep now." Kankuro said, dead seriousness. Gaara closed his mouth, stubbornly, and looked back at his older brother's face. The look Kankuro was giving him was one Gaara had seen on his father's face many times as a child. It was a commanding, pointed look, yet, Kankuro's eyes that held none of the hate and anger that had been in their father's eyes. In fact, Gaara swore he could see regret and sadness traipse across his retinas. He said nothing in response, deciding that he would rather comply with his body at the moment and let the problem be forgotten till morning, when he could actually think straight.
"Fine. But we will talk about this tomorrow." Gaara grumbled, irritably, yet forceful, as he lay back in his bed. He closed his eyes. Gaara sighed as he shifted further into sheets once again, willing himself to fall into sleep.
As he did, he was slightly comforted by the fact Kankuro had not moved from the edge of the bed. The weight reminded Gaara of his first few weeks of attempted sleep, making him realize that Kankuro was with him tonight, for better or for worse.
0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0
Kankuro watched at Gaara's expression changed from troubled, to peaceful again, as he drifted off to sleep. The puppet master cursed himself for having made to much sound when working on Crow in the first place to wake his brother up. He hadn't wanted to disturb Gaara's restful slumber- something that was hard for his brother to achieve.
Sighing quietly, Kankuro continued to sit on the bed, having no intentions of moving. The physical closeness was comforting and continued to drive away the horrible idea of sleep from his mind with the feeling of the slight motion against his body.
He could fight off his fears. His brother was alive. The movement under the covers proved it. His sister was alive. There was no danger. He could, and would, protect them- no matter what.
So Kankuro continued to slouch there on the side of Gaara's bed, listening to his brother's quiet breathing, trying to match it with his own awkward breath. Even though he was mostly unsuccessful, he enjoyed the attempt all the same. He sat there for quit a long while continuing to listen to his brother breathing. He watched over him as he slept, fighting off his own sleep and darkened thoughts in the process.
This was Kankuro's nighttime therapy.
A/N: Hey, guys! I hope someone enjoyed that out there! It was my first ever 'serious' Fanfiction and I wrote it like two years ago... so I know it's a little rough but I don't have a beta and editing is hard for me. Thanks for reading though! This is my first Fanfiction on this site and I hope to put many other up here soon!
Also, sorry if Deidara's character's OOC, I figured since it was Kankuro's dream that he wouldn't really know Deidara personally or anything... so yeah, sorry I just had to get that off my chest.
If you have any problems or question please PM, I will address it. If not please review! I'm new at this, I want feedback please! Even if it's just to remind me I missed a comma somewhere it's appreciated! :)
~GravityDefyingTrenchCoat~