Summary: He tried to focus on something that would calm his mind, but all that kept flashing before his closed eyelids were flashes of half-forgotten pink and gold. The lack of nourishment was keeping him from fully forming these images, and he couldn't even remember names or faces, but all he could remember was that these flashes were what was keeping the visions of death and pain from overtaking him.
Background: Based about 10 years after Sasuke leaves Konoha on his mission of vengeance. I am assuming that the storyline continues along with what is outlined in all of Shippuden and that Sasuke achieves "all that he wanted to". I'm not sure what all to add to that, the manga hasn't gotten that far, so I will probably get into more detail later on. Sasuke has set out on his own to find out what he is to do next and makes camp about 2 days travel outside of Konoha and has been there for 6 months. He has been discovered and Tsunade sends a retrieval squad of ANBU to bring him back to Konoha without telling Naruto or Sakura what is happening.
Pairings: SasuSaku, NaruSasuSaku, maybe more later on
Rating: M
Warnings: Imprisonment, Torture, Pain, the works. This fic has a very dark beginning but should lighten up later on. Please don't read if you can't handle dark, mature stuff like that.
Notices: The usual, I don't own the characters or the world they come from, only the basis of the story, that's all me! Please Read and Review, I love the feedback. Flames are welcome too, but only if they actually have some constructive criticism.
*****
The room was dark, it had been like that for 3 days now, ever since he was un-ceremoniously thrown in here by his captors and the door was closed, locked, and sealed from the outside. The only light that penetrated the walls of his cell came from a tiny slit window along the top of the outside wall that barely let in the sunlight during the day. Twice a day a small door on the bottom of the door swung open to reveal a small bowl of un-identifiable food and a canteen of musty smelling water. He drank the water to try to keep from becoming dehydrated, but left the food in the bowl, only to be taken away and replaced by a new one later. Slowly, the wounds that he had taken during his capture stopped aching, only to be replaced by a slow itch from the dried blood that had never been cleaned off and the infections that were taking hold of his body. His arms and legs ached all the time now, he had lost so much chakra that his body would never fully recover if he stayed in this place for much longer. The lack of food was causing him to hallucinate, visions of Itachi, Orochimaru, and even all the way back to the massacre of his clan, causing him to scream until his throat was raw into the darkness, only to be ignored by the guards that were constantly present just outside the door.
Today, however, today felt different. Along with his morning "meal" came a change of clothing. He crawled over to the door just as the small opening was allowed to swing shut and he felt the quiver of chakra that signaled the seal being re-applied, and grabbed at the small pile of white, canvas fabric with a hand that he couldn't prevent from shaking anymore. Upon shaking it out, he saw that it was a pair of canvas pants and a wrap around top, not so dissimilar from the outfit he had worn ever since he started training with Orochimaru, but the fabric was course, and obviously not intended for comfort. Desperate to get out of his dirty, blood stained, and ruined clothing, he pushed himself up onto his knees and slowly peeled off his shirt, finally aware of just how lacerated his skin really was. There was a large gash along his shoulder that ran down his back to stop just above his right hip, many smaller punctures from kunai and shuriken that had rained down on him from above, and his right shoulder had been separated from it's socket when one of his captors had grabbed his arm and twisted it up behind him to get him into the prison. It took a while, but even with his shaking hands and really only using one arm, he managed to get his old clothing off and his poor abused body into what he assumed were prison clothing. After he managed to tie the drawstring on the pants, he collapsed into the far corner of the cell and tried to close his eyes and relax without the visions returning. He tried to focus on something that would calm his mind, but all that kept flashing before his closed eyelids were flashes of half-forgotten pink and gold. The lack of nourishment was keeping him from fully forming these images, and he couldn't even remember names or faces, but all he could remember was that these flashes were what was keeping the visions of death and pain from overtaking him.
He hadn't realized that he had dozed off, lulled to sleep by the pink and gold flashes, and the warm, comforting feeling that they instowed in him, until the door to his cell was thrown open to slam against the door, and the light from the hallway was so bright that he had to painfully throw an arm across his eyes. That only lasted a second, because two of the guards surged forward and grabbed an arm each and pulled him shakily to his feet. He tried to open his eyes to see if he could identify any of his captors but the sudden intrusion of light into the cell after so long left his eyes only cracked open and watering, with the few visions that managed to register were blurry and unfocused. Due to the lack of use, his legs refused to hold his own weight, so the two guards dragged him out into the corridor and down the hallway, past door after door, then down a flight of stairs into a hallway that only had one door at the end of it. By the time that they had reached it, he was in so much pain that he couldn't even see and sweat was running down his back. The door was thrown open to reveal a chair covered with thick leather straps and paper tags that he would soon find out that would completely secure off the last remaining chakra that was in his system. He was dropped into the chair and his arms and legs were tied down, and another strap pulled his back straight up against the un-yielding back of the chair. He hung his head almost to his chest, his lank, dark hair completely covering his eyes as tears of pain slowly leaked out of his eyes. The two guards, satisfied that he was unable to move, let alone fight back, retreated from the room, only to be replaced by a shorter figure who moved into the room, staying to the shadows cast by the small amount of light coming from the hallway. He slowly lifted his head and peered through his bangs at the new person, but couldn't identify them. The figure was shorter than the two guards, and slimmer, but still gave the impression of immense strength. Due to the position that the guards had bound his arms to the chair, his dislocated shoulder throbbed painfully and he could feel every half-healed cut and puncture on his skin scream in agony. He truly hoped that, if this new figure was truly here to finish him off that they would do it quickly, he didn't know how much more of this pain he could take.
The figure abandoned it's place along the wall and slowly walked towards him, keeping the light from the door at it's back. He felt the cold fingers of fear slowly work their way up his neck and a cold sweat broke over his forehead as the figure strode towards him, only to stop right in front of the chair and bend over him to look him straight in the face. As the figure's hair fell in front of their face, he caught a whiff of a flowery scent that he thought that he remembered from the same memories that supplied the pink and gold visions that he had clung to so desperately in his cell. The figure took in a breath and spoke, and all of a sudden he realized who the figure was…
"Hello Sasuke-kun…"
*****
