Disclaimer:
I don't own Naruto, manga or anime, in any way! Gaara is not mine and neither are the other two Sandsibs, nor is the song quote. However, I do own my story, so please don't steal it. :)
Ah… The Inspo-bug, such a strange little critter. I thought this up somewhat late yesterday and had to write it immediately. So… here you go! An angsty Gaara oneshot, because Gaara doesn't get enough angsty screen time around here as far as I can tell. It's complete with Sandsibs fluff, too. :3
Song is "Something" by Escape the Fate. Great band, guys. I suggest them whole-heartedly.
Warnings: Sadness and attempted suicide (which is why it's rated T). You have been warned.
So now you're running
It's hard to see clearly
When I make you angry
You're stuck in the past
.
And now you're screaming
So, can you forgive me?
I've treated you badly
But I am still here
.
Sometimes I wonder
Why I'm still waiting
Sometimes I'm shaking
That's how you make me
.
Sometimes I question
Why I'm still here
Sometimes I think
I'm going crazy
.
Can you help me understand…?
.
And now you wish that you meant
Something
And now you wish that you meant
Something to somebody else
And now you wish that you met
Someone
And now you wish that you meant
Something to somebody else
To Protect You
Oneshot
By Shimmerwind
He sat alone on his bed, moonlight glistening through the window of his rather unfurnished room – he used to wonder why he had a bed at all, for he never slept, but decided he didn't mind after hours of contemplating. Eight months. It had been eight months since he returned from the Chuunin exams, eight months since he had been injured the first time, eight months since he had fought the blond Jinchuuriki known as Uzumaki Naruto.
Eight months since his life was changed.
He doubled over in his cross-legged position, gripping at his head like it was a lifeline. A headache pounded through his skull as hundreds of voices screamed at him. They threw things like "Monster!" "Demon!" "Worthless!" and "Murderer!" into his face, over and over again. He saw hundreds of sets of eyes, their bodies' silhouettes just black shadows, all glaring at him. He was hated, so very hated. Why? Why?!
Two voices stood out from the rest. One, a deep, psychotic voice, filled his head with insanity and bloodlust. Another, one younger yet full of malice, shed light on his shadowed mind. His conscious was in a tossing, turning battle of light and dark, yin and yang, and he didn't know which one was winning. Sanity or Insanity. Life or Death. Fox or Raccoon. Uzumaki or Shukaku. Who should he believe…?
He realized that he could believe both, in a way. He could take both voices and twist them to his own accord, make his own way. He could fulfill both his bloodlust and his promise.
In the past eight months, he had discovered an urge to protect the villagers of Sunagakure. Perhaps it had been shallow at first. He'd seen how strong the Uzumaki had grown when fighting to protect his comrades, and the red-head wanted that strength as well.
However, his goals slowly morphed into something real as he began observing life from the rooftops, discovering what exactly he was protecting. Loving families, happy children, life. He was protecting innocent life, the same thing he had killed to feel alive himself.
He wanted to protect it for real, then, not for his own selfish desires. He wanted to save them. And so, standing atop the wall that surrounded the village, he looked out over the sea of buildings. There, he made a promise. He promised to protect them all.
Shukaku was getting in the way of that promise.
The boy let loose a scream of agony as his headache intensified, feeling as though his own sand was pounding against his skull. So many voices, so many lessons he still didn't understand. What was this feeling he felt in his chest when he watched the people of Suna? It was intense yet light, fluttering yet grounding. It made him feel what he could only assume was happiness. Was it… love?
That notion was absurd, though… wasn't it? How could he love the very people that had tortured and tormented him, both in mind and body? How was it possible? He loved a mass of beings that could never, would never, return his feelings. He would always be alone… Even Kankuro and Temari feared him. Perhaps they were fond of him, perhaps they were very fond… But they didn't love him. Love with fear can't really be love.
He was alone. The one thing he always desired and never received was the very thing that was tattooed on his forehead. Love. He was unloved. He was alone.
Shukaku wouldn't shut up. The raccoon told him to kill, to slaughter the demons his holder tried to love, because they would never love him in return. He said that the Genin couldn't possibly love his tormenters, that this was just hate and false desires. He told his holder to kill them all and bask in their blood.
He wouldn't though. No. He wouldn't give in. Not this time.
The boy heard footsteps resound through the house, two pairs to be exact. It was probably Kankuro and Temari, they had probably heard his scream. The agonized boy rose quickly in efforts to save his siblings, for if he came into contact with any humans at the moment, he knew he would murder them.
Instead of sitting idly, he ran into the bathroom that was connected to his room and locked the door. He had… he had to protect them, all of them. He knew how to fulfil both wishes, his wish to save and his wish to kill, to draw blood. He only hoped his siblings wouldn't hate him for his decision.
His sea-green eyes roamed the dimly lit bathroom, landing on the sink. He moved slowly, blocking out the voices, and turned on the water, letting the sink fill. He only let the water rise about ¾ of the way before shutting it off, though. There was no need to flood the place, after all.
He remembered past fights of his. Wet sand was unusable sand, right? So his theory should work.
The first thing he did was shed his armor, the sand falling to the ground and scattering, for his gourd was still in his room. It was around this time that he heard his bedroom door slam open, the knob slamming against his wall and the door shaking on its hinges. However, he decided he wasn't mad. There was no reason to be.
He rifled through the drawer below his sink, looking for the scissors he always kept handy. Why he kept scissors, he would never know. He just did.
A sad smile found his lips as his fingers brushed the cool metal, before he slowly brought it from its hiding place.
Was… Was he really going to do this? Yeah, he was really going to do this. His sad smile widened a bit as he grasped the scissors in his hand.
Kankuro and Temari would be angry when they found him. They would be angry that he disrupted their sleep, but they wouldn't show it. Then, they would see him, really see him. They would grow still and quiet before the storm hit them. Kankuro would swear and punch a wall. Temari would fall to her knees. They would both cry, but they would eventually move on.
Baki would not cry. Perhaps he would be sad, but he would not cry. He would find a replacement for him on their team of three, and then set up preparations to find the reincarnation of Shukaku, who would revive in a few years.
The village would rejoice. They would not mourn the loss of the beaten, harassed twelve year old psycho weapon. They would sing and dance and not attend his funeral – only Temari, Kankuro and possibly Baki would come.
He noticed his shoulders shaking and a wetness on his cheeks as he thought. He really… really was unloved, wasn't he? He was only a monster, a weapon to his people, the people he wanted to live to protect. He couldn't do that, though. He couldn't protect them, for he was too weak to control the demon within him.
If he couldn't protect them…
…He couldn't live.
His life would only bring their death.
He wouldn't allow that.
His shoulders shuddered again, and he briefly wondered why. His small, boyish fingers moved up to his cheeks, trying to find the cause, before they pulled away. He looked to the skin of his fingertips, wondering if he was somehow bleeding, but what he saw wasn't crimson.
He was… crying.
Why… Why was he crying? Is this what happened when a heart broke? Was his heart… broken?
His small shoulders shook again before a small sob escaped him, something he quickly covered with the palm of his free, tear stained hand. That sob turned into a gasping cough as he felt the wound of his heart grow deeper. His chest felt like it was breaking, finally shattering into pieces.
"…Gaara…?" a soft voice called out from the confines of his room. "…Gaara, are you okay…?" it asked.
Temari, Gaara decided. She was asking if he was okay… She couldn't see him in here, she couldn't see what he was about to do. His sweet yet violent sister couldn't see his tears, and she couldn't help him right now. Still grasping his quivering lips, the redhead violently shook his head back and forth, secretly answering that he wasn't okay.
He really wasn't okay. He really wasn't.
However, the only answer that was audible was another chocked sob, something he tried to hide with all his effort. She couldn't come in and see him like this, she just couldn't. He needed to leave her with his old image, an image of no unfeeling brutality, so that she would miss him less. It would be easier on everyone if she walked away now.
"Gaara… Please answer me…" she pleaded. He could hear a second set of footsteps reach the door as well, belonging to a person he could only assume was Kankuro.
"Gaara?" his brother's deeper voice asked.
Gaara ignored them both.
His foam-colored eyes wandered up to his reflection in the mirror. The Gaara that peered back at him had probably the most human expression he had ever worn.
His hair was disheveled from where he had clutched it in his fists, his crimson locks frayed and wild.
The skin of his cheeks seemed softer without the armor as well, but it was pink.
His lips were formed into a shivering pout, but it was not the cute kind. No, this one was the kind that broke hearts, the kind that showed how broken he was.
Thick tear tracts still ran from his eyes, cascading down his cheeks and dripping to the mess of sand and tile below him.
Finally, his eyes were dark, so terribly dark, with pain and longing and despair. Sea green had melted into a dark forest, almost cerulean blue color, from the hurt that racked his heart.
The boy in front of him looked broken… but it didn't reflect half of what was going on inside.
Inside, Gaara was shattering. He felt alone, worthless, and unloved. The worst part was that there was no one to tell him otherwise, not that he would believe them if they did.
Gaara was helplessly, hopelessly alone… but he wouldn't be for long.
He was going to make people smile tonight. For once in his life, that joyous expression would be brought so someone's face because of something he did. And what he did would be to die for them, so save them from his inevitable breaking.
An idle thought began to settle into his mind.
He was… going to… die…
Another strangled sob flew unwelcome from his lips and he rushed to cover his mouth again, for his siblings were outside the room.
"…Gaara…! Come on, open up!" Temari called through the door. He had cried too loudly.
Gaara was going to die. In thirty minutes, Gaara would be dead, maybe sooner. No more wind. No more sand. No more of the cookies he secretly adored. No more of the beautiful sunrises and sunsets that Suna had to offer. Everything would end within the next few minutes, and that hit him like a ton of sandstone.
Why, now, would he choose to reflect on his happiest memories? Why would he focus on the good in the world in his dying minutes? Shouldn't he focus on the pain, so that his departure would be easier? Why… Why was his mind betraying him so?
Why was he crying?
True to his thoughts, the streams of tears flowing down his face only grew steadier as another broken cry tore through his barrier, making sound even though his hand.
"Gaara! Open the door!" Kankuro shouted, juggling the doorknob in efforts to open the wooden barrier.
Gaara didn't respond. His time was running out, and so he needed to act quickly. He opened the pair of scissors so that the sharper, thinner blade was poised to cut as a knife would, before submerging both of his hands in the sink water. He began coughing through his crying, pieces of his heart shattering into even smaller pieces, and it was becoming audible.
"WE'RE COMING IN!" Temari all but screamed, a hint of… fear in her voice? No… It was… worry. This only spurred Gaara's sadness to be louder. He listened as her foot began connecting with the door, trying to kick it down.
He needed to hurry. They would stop him if they found him… trying to… commit suicide… As much as he wanted to deny it, he couldn't. Even though he was trying to protect everyone, suicide was suicide and they would see it as such.
Sabaku no Gaara, the infamous murderer, Jinchuuriki of the Shukaku and the boy who murdered people on a whim was killing himself.
Gaara was killing himself.
As the redheaded boy shot the metal blade towards his wrist¸ sand swirled at his feet, trying to protect him. However, it became slush as soon as it hit the water. It couldn't save him… just like everything else.
"I'm sorry… I'm sorry… I'msorryI'msosorry…" he said, his whisper cracking every now and then. He repeated the words like a mantra.
The door was busted open just as the tip of the blade met his skin. There was a split second of silence in which no one moved and no one spoke. They snapped out of it at the same time.
Gaara pressed the blade into his skin, wincing at the pain that ensued. He found it relieving, though, in a way. A final sob made its presence known.
Temari began running towards Gaara.
Gaara dragged the scissors down his skin, but he only got half way.
Temari connected with him, shoving him away from the sink.
The scissors clattered against the wall, near a still-frozen Kankuro.
Bloodshot aqua eyes met shocked midnight blue.
"G-Gaara…" Temari said, gazing down into her brother's watering eyes. Then, suddenly, tears pricked the corners of her own. The teen dropped to her knees, just staring at him, her mind blank save for one question. "Why…?" she asked, her head tilting a bit to the side of its own accord. Her face was blank and white with utter shock.
Gaara found himself shaking as he lied there, looking into the eyes of his sister, before struggling out, "I… I wanted... to protect… you…" He couldn't break. He couldn't. He was already crying as it was, he couldn't break…. He cou-
His thoughts were silenced as his sister scooted closer and pulled his small frame into her own somewhat larger one, holding him as though, if she let go, he would disappear.
She was… hugging him…? Even with Yashamaru… He never been hugged before… Hell, the closest thing he'd ever gotten was when Kankuro carried him from his last fight, the one with the Uzumaki. This, though…
Temari's voice was unsteady as her little brother's as she spoke, wrapping one arm around his back to keep him close and letting her other hand creep up and into his hair, comforting him. "Don't ever… ever do that again…" she uttered softly into crimson hair.
Meanwhile, Gaara was still frozen. She had pulled him onto her lap and hugged him. Why…? Wasn't she… "Aren't you… afraid…?" he asked.
His voice was so small, so cracked sounding, that Temari pulled him even sloser to her. "No… No, I'm not. I love you, Gaara," she responded, her voice quiet but intense with sincerity.
Suddenly, Gaara felt the presence of another, along with two more strong arms wrapping around him from behind. "Me, too. I love you," Kankuro said, holding both his sister and his brother against him. His voice was thick with raw, unhidden emotion.
Neither cared about the blood that was slowly seeping into their clothes. Their only concern was their baby brother… Their baby brother who tried to kill himself.
Gaara was in a state of shock. For so long… So long, he'd only wanted this, the feeling of arms wrapped around him in embrace and those three little words – 'I love you'. He wasn't unloved…? He wasn't alone…?
Slowly, ever so slowly, his two thin arms cam up and returned Temari's hug.
Then, with something that sounded like a mixture between a cough and a sob, his dams finally broke.
The siblings stayed like that all night, comforting their youngest brother, until finally…
Gaara fell asleep for the first time, a smile on his lips as he reslized something very important.
He meant something to somebody else.
He slept in his bed for the first time, Temari and Kankuro still at his side.
And for once…
Shukaku let him be.
Alright, that's a wrap! I honestly feel like a jerk for doing this to poor Gaara-kun, but you know how it is… Once the Inspo-bug has set its sights on you, there is no escape. xD Yay for Sandsibs fluff! I blame an AMV I saw for Gaara, the song was Meg& Dia's Monster.
Now, if you all want me to continue this as a chapter story instead of a oneshot, tell me so in a review! I already have ideas. By the by, I know my writing style was different in this. I don't know… My writing changes depending on what exactly I'm writing. There's another Oneshot of mine, currently unfinished because its personal inso-bug flew away, where my writing is a loooot different.
Anyway, so sorry for the delay on EL and Rifts. I'm finally out of school until August though, and so I'll have the next chapters for both relatively soon! Yeah, the Inspo-bug for Rifts just completely shrivled up and died on Chapter Two, but I've completely rewritten it and changed things, scrapped the other one entirely, and have thus found a replacement buggy!
Also, there is a poll up on my profile page for the Main Pairing in Everybody Lies! I really want to do this one, and may even despite the poll's reviews, but I really do want your opinions. It's going to be a Slow-Burn romance though, very slow. Well, maybe not that slow… I don't know, it's complicated due to my plan for it.
Anyway, please review! Love you all!