A/N: So this is a bit angstier than I usually get. Please enjoy.

Blood. Flowing.

I watched it run down my wrists in similar patterns as the tears that ran down my cheeks. Both streams burned as they flowed across my skin.

I choked down a sob and raised the razor again, positioning it across another section of flesh. Quickly, I pulled back, slicing the edge once more on my wrist.

The tears came quickly, not because of the pain, but from the lack of it. This action—this cutting away at the flesh—made me feel nothing. Not even the pleasure of cold steel against bruised arms came to me. I didn't feel the sensual tingle creep up my spine as I slashed into my thighs, trying over and over again to feel something.

The razor danced over my skin becoming harder and faster with each new cut. Still nothing. I began crying hysterically. I cut along more delicate areas: my stomach, the insides of my thighs, my ankles, my chest. Nothing seemed to work.

I threw the razor across the floor, defeated. I put my bloody hands to my face and tried to cry my heart out. If I didn't have a heart anymore, I would be dead. Right?

"If I can't feel anything, how do I even know I'm alive?"

.x.X.x.

Lifeless. Wandering.

I made my way through the crowds of people, hoping the continuous movement of my legs wouldn't open the wounds on my thighs.

I felt pain, but not enough. I wanted more. No! I needed more pain than this! What I felt now was a mere prick compared to what I really needed. Oh, God, I needed so much more. I need the wounds on my body to throb to make me believe that my heart still remained in my chest. I need the blood to pour out of my body to make me believe that I was more than just a lifeless form floating through the patterns of the living bodies aurrounding me. God, I needed so much more than this…

I tilted my head and stared into the smog filled sky. There were no real clouds, I noticed, only artificial ones made by the towering smokestacks all around the city. It made me sick! Why pollute an already obscure world?

I reached an intersection and stopped, staring at the orange hand across the street. For some reason it felt like more than just an ordinary street sign.

"Stop. Just stop the painless suffering. Stop the stress. Stop the caring. Stop the life."

The hand was throwing my subconscious thoughts right back into my face, and, for some reason, I didn't like it. How this sign was a metaphor for my thoughts was completely beyond me. I didn't like it, so I turned away, turning my back on my fears. I'd find another route to my destination, my haven, my sanctuary.

I kept walking. On the benches old men in hats held paper sacks, their canes resting beside them. They held out their hands overflowing with bird seed and beckoned the pigeons forward.

I jammed my hands into my jacket pockets. The fluttering of the wings seemed to mock me. Wings, appendages I desperately wished I had. Wings could fly me away from here, away from all my problems. With wings, I could fly freely into the sky, above the smog and pollution, and into something clearer. I wanted to be free.

With renewed ambition, I walked faster along the sidewalk, through the hustle and bustle of the city. I had to get there. I needed to see him, to feel some sort of emotion. I needed to feel alive again.

I practically flew down the sidewalk.

How fucking ironic…

.x.X.x.

Pounding. Heart racing.

I was at his door. The thirteen blocks I walked to get here and the stinging wounds all over my body took more out of me than I thought. I was breathing hard and my heart was pounding.

'My heart...'

I sighed.

"Hey! Hey, Kakashi, open up! Hey!" I choked down a sob, all the while hoping he couldn't hear the crack in my voice. I could faintly hear the sounds of his feet padding across the floor.

"Hold on, I'm coming!"

I knocked again for emphasis.

"I said"—the door swung open, and I ran toward the only source of comfort I knew, throwing my arms around his waist—"Holy shit, Sasuke! What the hell are you-"

My lips crashed onto his. My fingers latched onto the buttons of his over shirt. My lips jumped down to the exposed torso of the man in front of me, biting, licking, kissing every bit of exposed flesh I could put my mouth on.

"Hey, hey, hey!" he pulled me into the doorway of his apartment and out of the hallway. "Not out there, Sasuke. What's gotten into-"

My lips once more cut off his speech. 'Please don't talk.' I slipped my tongue into his mouth, which he didn't refuse.

I unbuttoned the last button and slipped the shirt off. I stuck my tongue farther down his throat. Maybe he could die with me. If nothing else, I could try to suck some of his soul out of his body…

I stuck my hand roughly around the top of his pants while pushing him back across the living room to the plaid couch on the other side. We toppled over the arm of the sofa; I landed on top of Kakashi with a 'thump' in time with his heartbeat. I heard this, and it shocked me.

I opened my eyes and stared down at the god-like man I had been ravishing. I knew he was alive in my world full of death and despair, but his heartbeat and the glow of his skin proved it. And knowing that he truly was alive threw me deeper into a pit of lies, death, and not knowing who you are.

My world turned dark.

He was lying there, staring up at me with my hands still and unmoving on the button of his jeans, calling my name.

I looked down into his unmasked face, his beautiful, marvelous face. He looked so amazing and beautiful. I though about my own face as I looked into his. Maybe I should take my mask off, too. Would I look as beautiful? as marvelous? as the one sprawled out beneath me?

A tear ran down my cheek.

"I want to die," I whispered, hoping he couldn't hear me. "I want to die so fucking much."

"What? Sasuke, oh baby," He sat up and put his arms around me. "If I had known-"

"You wouldn't have cared!" I snapped, slapping his arms away.

"Don't say that!" The sharpness in his voice startled me. "Don't ever fucking say that again! You know full well that I fucking care. I care about you every fucking second of every fucking day. I love-"

"Then show it." I bit out.

"What?"

"If you care, you'll fuck me senseless!" I shouted. "Fuck me right here, right now. Fuck me so hard I won't be able to walk for days. Fuck me until I bleed. Fuck me until I can't say anything."

There was a moment where he just started at me in complete silence, a confused and slightly hurt look creeping up through his god-like features. As the seconds ticked away it felt like years were being taken off my life.

"Please," I sobbed. Tears started to pour out of my eyes as I threw myself on top of him. "I need this. Please, Kakashi. I'm begging you. I need this more than you know…"

Anger suddenly filled his voice as he grabbed my arms, pulling me up off of him. "What are you fucking playing at?"

His grip on my arms was painful. His fingernails were digging into the cuts just so that when I moved against him a trail of pain was shot up my arms and straight into my heart. He was glaring at me, waiting for me to answer.

This made me mad.

How did he expect me to answer that? I wasn't fucking playing at anything, that bastard! I had been nothing but overly obedient when it came to satisfying his needs. I had always been there for him when he needed something from me, but when I was the one asking for a fuck he thought I was playing at something. That stupid fucker!

I could feel the white hot anger building up inside of me. That heat made my tears boil and burn as they ran down my cheeks. My teeth clenched. I could feel myself slipping away, off into a hot, blinding rage.

.x.X.x.

Trapped. Realization.

It was like a dream.

Everything that had happened before wasn't real, was it? It couldn't have been.

I looked down at my red palm. I outlined the red blotches with my other hand; it stung.

So it was real. It did happen. Everything seemed coated in smog.

The confusion of the situation was making me dizzy. I had to think. I had to get somewhere so I could think in peace. I needed a place that was surrounded by silence, the silence of a city where everyone knew no one.

I turned down into an alley behind some old buildings. I sat on a cardboard box and put my head in my hands. I looked at my hand again, and the reality of what happened in that tiny, little apartment hit me square between the eyes.

The hurt I felt at not being understood mixed with the anger I felt at being ignored and mistrusted made me snap.

I hit him. I called him such terrible things. I slapped him. I trashed his apartment.

I broke up with him…

"FUCK!" I punched the brick wall behind me.

"Fucking God damn it!"

Over and over my fists pounded into the brick of the wall, my dry sobs echoing through the cavernous alley way.

I began to panic. What was I going to do now? I had no one else to turn to. I had lost the only one who really cared for me. No one else held me in their arms like he did. No one loved me like he did. I had fucked up real bad. I was fucked. I was bleeding. I was dying. I was dead.

I was alone.

.x.X.x.

Fearful. Stained.

My eyes shot open. The sound of footsteps woke me from my restless slumber. I smelled the distinct scent of alcohol.

There were two separate foot falls, but only one voice was speaking. The words of the man speaking were slurred and sluggish.

The darkness of the night surrounded me. Only the faint light from the street lights reached my eyes. I shrank into the shadows, sitting between a tin garbage can and the cardboard box from before.

I pulled my knees up against my chest, securing my arms tightly around them. I stared out into the middle of the alley. I could see the shadows of the two men getting closer, and I could hear the voice getting louder.

Suddenly, fear engulfed me. My breath caught in my throat, and I tried not to make a sound as the shadows got bigger and bigger.

My eyes widened as a man walked out into my line of vision, standing directly in front of me in the middle of the alley. His eyes bore right into mine. His body had stopped moving, although his eyes continued to entice me. The waves in his black, pool like eyes held my attention and consumed my thoughts. I couldn't pull my eyes away.

The voice was calling out to him now.

"Itachi?! What the hell are you doing? Why the fuck are you just standing there?"

The other shadow got larger as the man made his way towards Itachi. The man wrapped his arm around Itachi's shoulder and took a swig from the bottle in his other hand. He looked into Itachi's face and followed his eyes over to where I was sitting.

"Well lookie there…"

My eyes widened. He licked his lips. I didn't like the way he was looking at me, but I couldn't tear my eyes away from his. This man was taller than Itachi, but as he stood draped over Itachi's shoulders they looked the same height. His features were shark-like, sharp and defined. His eyes, though, were small, dark, and menacing.

I gulped and looked back at Itachi, his blank expression and beautiful dark eyes giving no comfort.

The other man suddenly dropped his arm from around Itachi's shoulders. My eyes snapped back to him as he made his way slowly in my direction. My body stiffened, and I found it hard to breathe. But, somehow, I found my voice.

"What do you want?" The words didn't come out as roughly as I had wanted them to.

The man laughed loudly and continued to make his way toward me.

"What do you want?" I asked again. The words were fast and full of fear as they flew from my mouth.

The man towered over me. "What are you doing out here all alone?" he asked with mock sweetness.

I swallowed and didn't answer.

He reached out with one hand and picked at the collar of my flannel over shirt while his other hand went to his belt buckle.

"Are you a fag?"

The words, although slurred and slow, bit right through me. My mouth fell open.

He smirked. "Thought so." He took a step closer, trapping me against the brick wall. There was no way out.

He slid his belt out though each belt loop and dropped it to the ground. My eyes watched the belt fall. My heart was pounding. The button was undone. I couldn't breathe. The zipper fell. I was scared…

He grabbed my shoulders and brought me up to my knees in front of him. He stared down into my face. His eyes were filled with hatred and malice. I whimpered.

He slapped my cheek and grabbed my chin, lifting me up to my feet. He slammed me, face first, up against the brick wall; I felt his hands reach around to the front of my jeans and fondle the button.

"What are you..?"

Before I knew it, my jeans were down around my ankles, and his hands were around the hem of my underwear. In one swift motion, they were down.

I felt so exposed.

"Please stop,"

He grabbed both my wrists and pinned them to the wall. I could hear him behind me working up his erection with his other hand.

This was really happening. I panicked. I turned my face to the side and looked past his hideous face and into Itachi's.

He was still standing there, in the same place, calmly watching, not saying anything, and staring directly at me.

Just by looking at him, I felt completely helpless. He wasn't doing anything to stop this from happening. Tears began to run down my cheeks.

"Help me," I mouthed. He continued to stare. "Please…"

Suddenly, I felt a hand on my waist.

'Fuck!'

I closed my eyes right as he penetrated me. He went in slowly, like he was savoring the feeling of being inside me. Once he pushed all the way in he didn't waste a second. I cried out as he began to move in and out, his pace quickening with each invading thrust.

My eyes stung. I couldn't cry anymore.

"No, no, no…" I didn't want this! Why was this happening?

I looked at Itachi. He was still there, still standing, still watching.

"Please, stop him! Make him stop!" My voice was uneven and weak. Itachi just stood there, doing nothing. Finally, he looked away.

"No…" I whispered. He looked away. He wasn't going to help me. No one was going to help me. "No! Stop!" I fought against the man's grip. I didn't want this…

He slammed into me, hitting that spot and making me cringe.

'Damn it all!' I thought. 'What's the use in trying?'

I surrendered. I stopped fighting and let him have me. It was disgusting to know that he was moving inside of me, but I tried to think of other things aside from the blood and bodily fluids running down my scarred, burning legs.

I tried not to make a sound. Each time I gasped or cried out he became rougher. Finally, his thrusts became sporadic. I closed my eyes and waited for the pain to come.

With one last final thrust, he came inside me. It felt so disgusting, so wrong. I cringed. It hurt so badly! The cum mixed with the blood and seeped into my raw flesh.

With a grunt, the man pulled out of me and dropped me to the ground. I curled up as tightly as I could, ignoring all the pain in my legs and backside. I could still feel the liquid dropping out of me.

The man was laughing. He kicked my head right into the brick of the wall. Silent tears ran down my cheeks mixing with the blood from the new cut on my forehead.

He lifted his leg to kick me again, but Itachi placed his hand on the man's shoulder. "Kisame, let's go."

"Hn," I could tell he was disappointed. "Let's."

He looked down at me crying on the ground. "Filthy faggot." He turned, spit, and walked away behind Itachi.

Minutes passed. I sobbed and looked to my groin. I hated myself. I had a full hard-on. My sobbing became louder as I reached my hand down to relieve myself.

There was not a word to describe how much I absolutely hated myself at that moment. I just wanted it to be over. I wanted to be gone. I closed my eyes and shuddered as I came into my hand. I cried out when his face, sharp and defined, came into my mind as the liquid coated my hand. I had reached an all time low.

I curled myself up tighter and looked up into the cloudy night sky. I felt weightless. I felt disgusting, but I also felt free.

I closed my eyes and whispered into the night.

"I've done it, Kakashi. I'm finally dead."

-end.