A/N: When I first started working on "On the Coldest Night", I made an author's note stating that I wanted to try my hand at a Gaara/Hinata fiction. Truthfully, I wasn't sure what I was expecting while working on it. Around chapter 5 or 6, I found myself dispassionately berating myself, knowing that the story wasn't taking the shape I hoped that it would. The reason for this was because of my inexperience in dealing with Gaara, who is such a hard character to write for. "On The Coldest Night" will still be finished. I'm trying my best to make that train wreck of a plot work out...without taking it down really dark roads…

I started working on this quietly since March, and I feel much more confident about this story. It stands up better I think, under the weight of its own heaviness. This is one of those "epilogue first" kind of stories, so if you like the first chapter, then stick around to follow the events moment by moment.

Hindsight 20/20
Chapter 1: Hindsight

He was not exactly a kind man by nature, as evidenced by the broken cup shattered into bits. The concept was one he treasured innocently, but like a child, he didn't fully understand the meaning of it. He wanted to, but at the end of the day he was merely a jaded adult. Thankfully the cup had been empty, but clay was still sharp when smashed into shards.

There was a traitor before him, and he wanted blood. Not his own that stained his injured palm, but the blood of a man who no longer deserved to live. The blood of a sinner, who crossed too many lines.

There was no question Gaara was at his tipping point, his rage reflected that.

"Hey bro, you okay man?" Kankuro asked tentatively. Anyone who knew Gaara, knew that wild look.

Gaara wasn't okay. No one threatened his village – his people, and expected to get away with it alive. He didn't respond. Things got bad when that happened, terribly bad.

"Gaara…" A woman's voice this time. "Gaara, please."

"…" Silence – never a good sign when his eyes slanted just so. Never safe for anyone, when his teeth grabbed the edge of his mouth like a vice. When blood dribbled from him, like drool might from rabid dog.

"Gaara please, do not do this." Her soft voice calling to him, the hurt oh so very clear. "Not like this."

"…" More silence, and his eyes fell closed. He didn't want to upset her.

"Please…" Her voice, so soft, so desperate.

His eyes flicked to hers, but she didn't cower. Her fingers were tangling their way into the fabric of his sleeve. She was afraid, but not of him. She was afraid for him, for what he might do.

Do not act rashly…that was her request. What her eyes were begging of him. What her words could not convey.

She had asked him of this more than once during their marriage. More often than not, he complied with it. He felt his wife's hands slipping around his torso. Her head falling into the space between his shoulders. Though he would like nothing more than to rip the traitor into tiny bits, Hinata hated bloodshed. He gentled himself, if only for her sake.

His eyes opened, his choice made clear. He smashed his bloodied palm onto his desk. "So be it then." He snarled, spewing stained spittle from his mouth. He looked to his brother. His direct order was little more than a hiss. "Get this lowlife scum out of my office."

"You got it." Kankuro wasted no time to do what he was told. "Up ya' go." He ordered none too gently, dragging the bound and gagged murderer away from the Kazekage. Speed was paramount, because Gaara could seek retribution for the man's crimes. He still wanted to.

Gaara growled deeply, he was so angry.

A small sound, delicate and feminine, reached his ears.

"Something more?" He asked to his wife, who was already begging a great deal. He had been on the verge of losing his composure. A moment longer, there would have been a corpse laying dead on the floor. "I do not know how much more I can take." A life rotting away in prison was what Gaara considered kindness to men who betrayed Sunagakure. He dared not speak of what he considered a proper judgment.

"Look at me." Her forehead still touched to his back. "I need to see your eyes." She could feel his tremors. "Please." She wanted to calm them. He was so livid, rightfully so. She was too, but that anger could not be taken outside of this room. "Show me."

He could not let that rage fester, and yet he couldn't bind it down. With a fist, he swept his paperwork off of his desk, and his computer soon followed. It would not be the first electronic device that saw demise by his hand. Hinata was sure it would not be the last.

He picked her up and put her on his desk. "There." He forced himself to say, though it was a rumbled word. "You see now." He ignored the fact that her thumb had begun to clean away the crimson on his lips. "Happy?"

"Yes. I am." It was the god's honest truth.

She hadn't always been happy looking into his eyes. In fact, her marriage with him had started quite unpleasantly. Time and perspective could be the reason why she was happy now. "You cannot leave this office angry, but dinner is soon and we both need to eat." She knew how to ease his temper, understood what his impassiveness meant. She reached for his hand, put it on her belly. "You see? I'm sure that she is hungry too."

Their baby girl waited to greet the world.

"You should seek sustenance then." He justified obstinately. Worry for his wife and offspring slowly dragging his mind away from the many ways he could rip flesh and bone into tiny bits. "You aren't required to wait for me. If you were hungry, you should not have."

"I don't want to worry after my husband." The honesty in her words caused a flicker of guilt to ghost across Gaara's face. "The nesting instinct is bad enough. I don't want to be left wondering when you'll come to me, or even if you will." She told him as he pulled his hand away. A now bloody handprint rested over her belly, and she sighed. "Besides, you need a proper bandage."

A huff of annoyance and he rolled his eyes. "You are an annoyance."

"And you're a bull in a china shop." She returned as she lifted her hands to cup his face. "I'll be even more annoying if I start to cry, and you know my condition right now."

That he most certainly did. "What will you have me do?"

"Get a bandage on that hand of yours." She said again. "Then come to dinner. Let's put this awful day behind us."

His eyes narrowed, his voice became dry. "There is too much work to be done." Now especially, since he had kept the life of a man who should be dead. How did he explain that one to the council? The accused needed to face a proper trail, and he would be sentenced to death anyway. Surely Hinata knew that. If he killed the man, his job would be that much easier. "I will see to the traitor. Then I will have nothing more to worry about."

"You will not slaughter that man. He will die in due process." Hinata argued, knowing exactly what 'seeing to something' meant. "He will face a fair trial, and he will be executed. Then his body properly disposed of. It will not be because you've had your way with him." She was clutching at his robes now, needing Gaara to just agree. "Promise me, you will not murder him in cold blood. Swear to me, that you are above your emotions."

"I will not lay a single grain of sand on the traitor." Dearly, he wanted to, but Hinata's wellbeing was more important. Their child was likely a demon baby, he was sure, because his wife acted irrational when put into an upset state. "You are hungry." He did not seek the wrath of the woman. "We shall go acquire food."

"That would be wonderful." She smiled slowly, an action that always pleased him.

...

They walked hand in hand to the infirmary.

Hinata considered her little victory, and realized her upbringing once again served her well.

Her father was not the kindest man in the world either, but, he was very wise. He knew the keys to happy marriages in high society. He had drilled them into her. Explaining the importance of her role. It was days like today that reminded her of that. The power she held in the palm of her hand was special. The ability to save a doomed man from a fate worse than execution.

The ability to gentle the hands of her husband, who was nothing of the sort.

"You are far too amused." Gaara said simply.

"Is that a terrible thing?" She asked.

His reply was vague. "Whimsical creature."

There was no one else in the infirmary once they entered, and so she locked the door, mischief playing in her eyes. "Perhaps I am. Isn't that a good thing?" She gathered the medical supplies she would need. "You should sit. It'll be easier if you do."

Her husband sat down on a bench near a metal table. "I often wonder about your whims." Gaara's monotone evenly concluded. "It seems a double edged sword."

"I didn't realize I was so duplicitous." She paused to kiss him only briefly, her lips lingering over his in a way that taunted him beyond reason. She set to her task of cleaning and bandaging the bloodied fingers. His palm that had suffered the worst abuse. "You often enjoy my whims, do you not?"

He had half a mind to remind her of why it wasn't wise to taunt him. Instead, he let her tend to him, the meaning of it all very endearing in its own way. "Hm." He could think of few others who so readily dressed his minor injuries. "I do." He admitted after a few moments.

They didn't speak further on the topic. Then again, she hadn't expected him to elaborate. Gaara was a man of action, not words. He spoke to be understood, but he acted on basic impulse. That was the difficult part of his personality, really. That same impulse was the one that often backfired on him, causing great injury to himself, and those around him. As a child, Shukaku was to blame.

As an adult, Hinata blamed his ruthless upbringing.

Though she loved her husband dearly, even she couldn't deny his inhuman characteristics. She merely saw beyond them, because that's what a proper wife did. Just as a proper husband looked beyond her faults, of which she also had a great many.

She recounted what her father had called the ten key facets of marriage.

Time – a lot of it.
Conflict – learning when to fight, when to negotiate, and when to let go.
Respect – for oneself, for their spouse, for their village, and their honor.
Knowledge – in all things to ensure well informed decisions.
Intimacy – in all things, to give completely, and to take fully.
Idleness – the small moments, humble and special.
Spirituality – faith in all things, even when love fails.
Communication – if not with words, than with actions as well.
Forgiveness – of misgivings, hardships, and misunderstandings.
Acceptance – of the lesser qualities, of the past, and of the future.

He had told her that if both parties aspired to honor those ten traits, any marriage could become successful. It was what cultivated love. The one term every couple seemed to want, but many could never hope to maintain. In her younger years, while she believed her father to be right, she also believed him arrogant. Perhaps he was, that was a Hyuga trait. She was often sure of that. Still, his words and tutelage had proved true. It had saved Gaara from himself, from his anger.

There was no greater gift, now that her father had grown old All he had left was the lessons he'd given his children.

"Perhaps we should eat now." She said once she was finished tending to her husband. Watching him flex his fingers under the white material, she could only smile.

"Yes, we should." He agreed, once he was satisfied that the wrappings would not come loose. It was cumbersome, but it would do. "Have you decided what to do about the Hyuga clan?"

"My sister didn't send me the letter of father's illness expecting me to rush home." She admitted, though her mind was indeed on her family. "Alzheimer's is an illness of the mind, more than of the body. He's growing weaker, but the clan is strong. I'm sure that she can handle things without my interference."

"That was not what I asked."

"The day I took the seal upon my forehead, I became a branch family member." Hinata didn't know what to do, expect keep a respectful distance from main house affairs. "Even if things have changed, they've not changed to the point that I can somehow overpower the council. My hands are tied. There is nothing I can do."

"If your father is so infirm, we can receive him. That may be enough for Hanabi to gain better control of the clan." Gaara commented as they headed for the kitchens.

"If I thought it best, I would. I don't think it would help my father, or my sister. That would be harder on them both. His memory comes and goes as it is." No, she couldn't do that to the man who raised her. It was painful enough hearing that he sometimes forgot her name, or that he was once leader to his clan. "I don't think I can bear to see him that way."

"That is the fortune of losing a parent, when they have their mind intact." Gaara thought little of his father, always had, and always would. Still, he was slowly learning the sacrifices one made. "It might be a luxury."

Hinata refused to believe anything that happened in Gaara's childhood could be luxurious. "Please don't think that way." Death was unfortunate, no matter the case. "It isn't good for you to think so negatively."

Withholding the true thought that came to his mind, he instead offered her a sideways glance. "Hmm." He led her to the table and pulled out her chair for her, punctuating the conversation and bringing it to an end.

Hinata seemed to accept it. She nodded in the same steadfast way she always did. Another day of work came to a close, and another evening set in.

…

They had been married for well over a decade. In retrospect, it was a length of time that was both too long, and not long enough. Day by day, it seemed so strange to her. As though not much had changed, but of course, that wasn't quite right either.

To Hinata, their bed felt as if it were only Gaara's. That the sheets wrapped around her, were only because he desired it that way. That the arm slung across her belly was because he didn't want harm to come to her, and he was the head of the household. He had a say in a great many things, and he often made his desires known. Thankfully, his desires were simple ones, at least usually.

They were always clear, finely drawn lines that he'd always demanded. That was all well and good too.

Their marriage had not been an easy one, or a simple one. Instead, it had been riddled with hardship. That hardship sometimes trickled into her mind, made her sad, lost, and even a little lonely.

"You are pondering something." The knowing Kazekage murmured. He reached down to her belly. "Are you feeling ill?"

"Oh, no not at all. I was merely thinking of old times." Hinata wondered about how many nights like this she would be afforded once her child was born.

"You do that often." He saw no need for it, but he indulged her. "You and your fondness for memories."

"It's silly, I know." She whispered.

The events, though distant now, she often recalled.

It happened soon after her divorce Naruto Uzumaki. What was young love, died, under the weight of responsibility. Hinata had grown to be a far different woman, her desires far clearer to her than she cared to admit. She could share in Naruto's desire to become the Hokage. She could withstand his grueling training. She could take his stamina, both in and out of the bedroom…and she did find happiness in the times they spent together.

However, she couldn't tolerate his disappearances, and they happened often. Their lifestyles were different, and it showed, causing a rift between them. Naruto was still on the cusp of his adventures. Hinata wanted to settle down, have a family of her own. Naruto wasn't ready to be a father, and those deep blue eyes of his searched for distant lands. From those lands, he desired more strength. She could understand him. Even forgive him.

She absolutely could not lay with a man who took deadly missions for the sake of obtaining more power. S-rank after S-rank, it grew to be too much. Her worry for him consumed her, and they both knew that it had to end.

Their divorce was swift, but ended on good terms.

"You are thinking of Naruto?" Gaara surmised by the glazed over look in her eyes.

"A little." She could easily admit that. "Konoha, more than anything. A younger you, as well."

"That…" He closed his eyes. "Is not pleasant to think of, I'm sure."

"I find it pleasant. Even if you don't, I like to think of those early days." She knew that he would not believe her. He never did.

Some might call their past fate, but they merely considered it circumstance.

Quite by luck, Sunagakure had been looking for a bride for the Kazekage. Hinata had been looking for distance between herself, and her ex-husband. Gaara, who had come to respect Hinata on a professional level, if not much else, had decided upon her. Many assumed he did it as a favor, looking after the woman for Naruto's sake.

At first, even Hinata had considered the whispering to be true. She eventually came to learn that such a thing had never been the case. Everything about their time together told her so.

"How could you find any of that pleasant?" He inquired, his tone berating himself.

"It was you." Hinata chided. "Gaara, I didn't mind."

"So you say." He still would never believe that.

"One of these days, the baby inside my belly, won't be a baby anymore." She told him softly. What kind of father he would be a teenage daughter? It was amusing to think about. "She'll find someone she loves, and then maybe you'll understand."

"Impossible." He adjusted himself so that he could gaze at Hinata properly. "Perhaps you do not mind now, but then…"

"Stubborn, to a fault." She told him, raising herself up just enough to kiss him. "I didn't mind then, either."

Truly, she hadn't. She was nervous, and he was inexperienced…but she hadn't minded a single bit.

It was in the way he touched her, careful so as not to break her. He had been too kind the first night she spent with him, too aware of her needs, as she was to his. She could faintly recall the way her robe hit the floor. She made an attempt at modesty that Gaara denied. The moment she tried, his arms encircled her, hiding her from his own sight. Her body was pressed against his, leaving no room to question the beauty of her image.

In was in her every curve. From her large supple breasts, to the flaring of her hips. Every inch of her was a perfect resemblance of a goddess encased in porcelain skin. At the time, she had wished for her long hair again. So that it might cover her from Gaara's green eyed gaze. That night, his arousal hit him full force, and since he had never once lain with a woman before, he had no idea just how overwhelming it would feel to have her in his arms.

Flesh to flesh...eager to please her, but with no idea how…and too timid to ask.

Too new to make himself last long enough to bring her to the brink of climax, even as he found himself unable to hold back on his own. The shame he'd felt then, it made him feel weak, in a way he had never before experienced.

"Foolishness, that." Gaara grumbled.

"You might just be right about that." Hinata laughed.

Thinking back on that moment probably was foolish, but it made her smile all the same. It was her proof that he was not infallible. That he was not as stoic as everyone thought him to be. That he worried about her, and about her perceptions of him…

"Gaara?"

"Hmm?"

"Hold me." She turned to face him, an action that yanked the blankets from her bosom. Gaara covered her once more as soon as she settled, draping his arm lazily across her side, holding her closer. "I don't even know why I was thinking about that."

He didn't know either. That was a night he wasn't particularly happy to recall, considering. "Of all the things to recall, must it be that?"

"My mind wandered, and it just ended up there." She told him. "I know you don't think much of that night, but I found it to be a comfort."

He remained unconvinced. "Hm."

It was strange to be the inexperienced party, and he was nothing if not sheltered. He remembered their first trip together in the heat. The day he had brought her to the outpost near his homeland. The idea of an indirect kiss on a canteen bottle, in retrospect, was a juvenile thing to be flustered by under the hot desert sun. He'd been annoyed and speechless that she could offer him something her own lips had touched.

That should have been his first clue, that he was woefully inadequate in all things domestic.

Still, he dragged her to his home, welcomed her to his bedchamber. It was the latter of those events that burned his mind with embarrassing images of his own cluelessness. Now he knew how to bring his wife to the brink of bliss and back again, but that had not been the case at first.

"Scowling like that makes you look grumpy." The soft sound of her voice pricked at his ears, just as one long and slender leg swung over him. "Honestly, though, it was a comfort Gaara." He could feel her pressing against him in all the right ways. "I thought you might leave the room after, or perhaps you would be unusually rough. I had no idea what to expect from you…I was thankful..."

Gaara sighed, she thought on those matters because they were distant. Far enough away to dull any other memories that might come her way. While he didn't relish asking, he had to know. "What is truly keeping you awake?"

...

Hinata blinked, did he really need to ask? Probably not, but she closed her eyes and curled into him anyway. She couldn't even speak about what scared her, because it was the same thing that worried him. Had he been a warmer person, he would have known to soothe away her troubles by whispering sweet nothings into her ear.

He had never been that sort of person, so she knew not to expect that.

Light words meant nothing to him. Gaara was a man of grounded reasoning. Instead, he held her to his body fiercely. Shielding her from everything and anything the cold night air could possibly do to her. It was all that he could do, and it wasn't nearly enough.

He couldn't save her, not from her own mind.

"This child will be strong." He was sure of that. More sure than anything else. His daughter had to be. "She will not falter."

"What if she isn't as strong as you believe? What if she…" Hinata couldn't even finish the question, but she didn't have to.

His son had been born premature, still and unbreathing.

That had been over five years ago. At the time, the medics blamed many conditions for the tragedy. Gaara blamed his genes, and Hinata blamed herself. For the longest time, she had been unwilling to try again. He had permitted the use of contraceptive medical ninjutsu.

When she had finally told him that she wanted to have another baby, he was skeptical. This request too, he permitted.

Her wish had been granted to her, but as the reality set in, so did the fears. Now as he lay with his pregnant wife, he found himself trying to combat her doubts. Trying desperately to protect her from the past that clawed at her mercilessly. Hinata wanted this child though, that much he was sure of. He wanted it too, the baby girl. Every day the baby grew, was a day that she became more tangible, and that much more precious to them.

Gaara swore to protect this child.

"What if I fail her?" Hinata asked. "What if I'm not strong enough?"

"Impossible." He snarled, perfect white teeth biting into his own cheek. It was tender from earlier, and he tasted his blood again. "Impossible, Hinata."

Anything was possible, and he was not a god. He wasn't even the demon of the desert anymore. He was a perfectly mortal man, and even this was out of his hands.

…

The Sabaku family had grown into a sprawling bloodline, touching several clans. It was a strange thing really, Gaara never understood how exactly it happened. He wasn't the type to contemplate anything like that at length either, so he just let the matter be. If someone did try to pry an answer out of him, though, he would claim that his eldest sibling was to blame.

Temari had paved the way when she married Shikamaru, bearing for him a son. This tied her intimately to the Nara clan, and she was happy there. In spite of the fact he was at least half Sabaku, her son would ultimately lead the Nara clan, holding no claim to Sunagakure.

Kankuro was still unmarried. He had several girlfriends over the years. Some of them were members of Gaara's elite force. Children had resulted from two such unions, but due to the way women were viewed in Sunagakure, both of the Kunoichi in question refused to marry. As such, even though Kankuro had two sons, both had their mother's family names. They were by law considered illegitimate, and unable to carry on the Sabaku name.

This fact made them unable to rise to the title of Kazekage one day.

Unfortunately, that had posed a threat to Sunagakure, especially after Gaara's firstborn was proclaimed dead. While he and Hinata mourned deeply, the council struggled for an adequate solution. Gaara took it upon himself to see to the matter, and he informed the council not to worry. He would provide a powerful heir, and he searched for a long time.

One day, he brought home a child hailing from the Hyuga clan's branch family. Though the boy was an orphan, the clan had protected him, as they did all of their clan members.

Since the boy carried the Hyuga gene, and was turned over to Gaara's care. The council decided to accept the decision begrudgingly. There was only one stipulation. If Hinata were ever to conceive a child carrying both Sabaku and Hyuga blood, that child would be named the future Kazekage instead. Gaara named the boy Sabin, meaning optimist, and gave him the last name of Sabaku.

The only thing tying the infant to his old clan was the marking atop his forehead, the same one Hinata carried.

Hinata considered this as she tended her knitting. That selfsame Hyuga child was now in his academy years, learning to hone his bloodline limit. For the longest time, they'd told the boy nothing of his past.

Young Sabin had spent his entire six years of life thinking that Hinata was truly his mother, not a distant relative. Gaara was the strict father he'd always known, expecting greatness. In his small mind, he was the firstborn son of the Kazekage. To the village who knew nothing of the truth, he was a true Sabaku, son to Gaara of the desert.

Hinata had been happy to go on letting the boy think that. Now that she was pregnant again, she wondered. "Maybe, I should tell him the truth."

"Gaara wouldn't like that." Temari murmured, as she continued arranging flowers in the large vase.

"It isn't about like or dislike." Hinata felt strangely compelled to see after the child. He was her kin after all, but never once had she truly consider him a son of hers. He wasn't her child, not really. Though she loved the small boy, she feared for him too. The truth could harm him, and she knew that all too well. "It's about linage. I pray for a healthy daughter, but, I am aware of what that will do to him. It's selfish of me to want another child, knowing the situation it puts him in."

Temari wouldn't know. She had a child because Shikamaru needed an heir, but motherhood wasn't something that suited her well. "Sabin is technically your son. Gaara could fight for the boy's position. Sunagakure favors men in power over women anyway. It may not be too far a stretch when the time comes."

"Gaara's term will last another twenty years easily." Hinata murmured. "There is time for a solution to present itself."

"If he lives that long." Temari interjected. "Remember, anything can happen. Kankuro would stand to fill the role of acting Kazekage, but that's assuming he would be able." Temari set down the roses she had been tending to. "Hinata, if you had to rise to the occasion, who would you name the next Kazekage?"

"It would depend on their abilities." Hinata said after a long pause. "Just because Sabin is a Hyuga, does not guarantee he's powerful enough to act as the Kazekage. I can't even begin to guess at the abilities my unborn daughter will possess. She is only half Hyuga, the Byakugan may not be within her capacity. Besides, there is no telling what damage the tailed beast chakra has done to Gaara's genetics."

"It's complicated, I agree, but it doesn't need to be." Temari reasoned as she parted from her project to gaze out into the streets where the children played. "I have seen you feed him, clothe him, worry for him, and sing to him on his sickbed. The conditions might not have been ideal, but you have never once cast that boy aside."

"No, of course not!" Hinata wouldn't even dream of it. "Never… I never would."

Temari just smirked. "He might not have come from your womb, but he is every bit your son. You have every right to consider him that way."

"I wish I did, but I'm not that naive." Her fingers lifted to the mark across her forehead. Just as there could only be one rightful leader to the Hyuga clan, there was only room enough for one rightful Kazekage. If her daughter grew to be healthy, she would hold all of the rights and privileges of a full blooded Sabaku child. It was the one thing that the rest of the children carrying Sabaku blood were denied, and that a Hyuga boy would never be afforded.

"You know, Temari, when I think back to what leads me up to now, I don't regret it. There were difficult times, sure. Moments I thought everything would come to end. It's been a hard ten years. I can only assume that the next ten will be equally difficult." She licked her lips. She was happy, in spite of it all. "I wish I could say I was more resilient, that I had been stronger in times that I was weak. The only thing I can think of right now, is that I want this baby to be healthy. If that happens, one day, Sabin is going to come to me and ask me about the truth."

"If that happens, Hinata, what do you plan to say?"

Hinata thought on this, rolled it around in her head, and sighed. "Well, I suppose I would say that hindsight is twenty-twenty."