Disclaimer: If I owned Naruto, I would stop being so mean to Gaara. As Gaara has been tortured in the last few chapters, it should be obvious that I do not own Naruto.

AN: I know that updates are slow for this and everything else that I write, but please bear with me through the revision and through the slowness of my writing mind. I'm trying, I swear.


The Complex: By Sagi
Chapter 1

Sabaku no Gaara had long since decided that there had to be something wrong with his day. He didn't know what was wrong, and he didn't quite understand why he'd decided that there was something wrong – but none-the-less that feeling of complete wrongness lingered.

Maybe because it was a Friday. Friday's were Gaara's least favorite days, after all.

His day had started as it usually did. His sleep had been fitful, as nightmares of his past plagued him and didn't allow him to sleep longer than ten minutes at a time. So he had risen in his typically bad mood only to find that he was out of coffee; had a stack of bills that needed to be paid and he had missed three calls calling him in to work the day before. Finally, after twelve hours of paying bills, shopping for coffee and other necessities, and working an extra three hours of overtime, Gaara collapsed on the small couch in his small apartment. It was about eight o'clock.

A shiver went through his frame, amplifying his unease to the point of being uncomfortably annoying.

His cell-phone suddenly began to ring, screaming out: "Shut up – I'll kill you" over and over. In Gaara's opinion the only downside of this particular ringer was the fact that the one calling couldn't hear it.

With his green eyes narrowed, a pale hand reached for the phone, wishing death could be dealt over the phone. However, by the time Gaara actually answered the phone – snapping out a very irritated "What!" – The person on the other end had already hung up.

Looking at the number displayed on the small screen revealed only that he didn't know it. The phone used to call him had been a public number from somewhere in the general vicinity. This was somewhat odd because the only people who were willing to actually converse with Gaara were his sister, his best friends – all of whom lived in different cities – and his neighbors.

At times.

Gaara grumbled quietly for a moment or so, running one of his pale hands through his short red hair. Then he sighed and sat back down on his couch, reaching for the book one of his neighbors had recommended and then left outside his door. It wasn't terribly interesting so far, but Gaara had only started reading it the day before and the story line did have potential to pick up so he continued reading.

He was just settling into the still developing story, twenty minutes later, when there was a knock on his door.

It wasn't a very loud knock. Not urgent pounding or desperate banging. It was quiet, as though the person knocking was tired and knocking on Gaara's door was their very last resort.

Thinking that perhaps he needed more of a life if decoding the knocks on his door was becoming an option, Gaara marked the page in his borrowed book.

A second thought, something along the lines of "I probably should have seen this coming" floated through his head as he stood and made his way to the door in order to either yell at the person on the other side, or to see what they wanted.

The only problem with that plan was the fact that his visitor, who had been using the door for support, fell over as he opened it.

A blond haired, blue eyed man that Gaara hadn't heard from in a good two months fell into Gaara's unprepared arms – as close to unconsciousness as was possible. Pale arms hastened to support the blonds weight, only to find a strange hindrance on the blonds back. This hindrance didn't register right away, due to Gaara's shock.

"Naruto?" Gaara gasped, purely because his breath had been forcibly removed from his lungs with the force of Naruto's fall.

"Gaara," the blond returned, sounding completely exhausted. "Can we stay here for the night? Please?"

The owner of the apartment found himself replying without realizing it. He granted the permission needed right before the word "we" registered in his mind.

A baby began to cry, and suddenly that hindrance on Naruto's back also registered.

That feeling of wrongness from twenty minutes prior came back, causing Gaara's left eye to develop a suspicious tic.

Twenty minutes later found Naruto sleeping fitfully in Gaara's bedroom. However, it wasn't just Naruto who was sleeping there. Hakuryuu or Ryuu for short – a two month old blond haired, green eyed child that Naruto had claimed was his own – was sleeping in the older blonds arms. That child, Gaara had decided, was infuriatingly annoying.

In the twenty minutes between its arrival and its being forcibly put to bed, the child had cried and then stared and then clung– three of Gaara's least favorite baby habits.

The red haired man exhaled in a way that some might call sighing. Naruto had tried to explain the situation he was in, but had left out many large explanations that probably would have completed the story. And, like only Naruto could, he had gained the permission to stay with Gaara as long as he wanted.

Despite himself, Gaara hoped that his blond friend would stay for a while.

Even if it meant he would have to deal with the baby as well.

Gaara once again seated himself on the couch, his cell phone turned off and his door locked. With his current luck, tonight might also be the night his sister decided to drop in for a visit. Who ever might drop by, Gaara was now playing "out to dinner with a client" and was refusing to budge until he got some serious thinking over with.

"I can't tell you everything, Gaara, but this child is mine and I've got nowhere else to go."

"...You have a- child?"

"Well, he's got half of my genes, anyway."

"By the sands, there's another Uzumaki in this world..."

"Heh..."

"So, I suppose she's the mother?"

"..."

"..."

"Yes. But... she died in childbirth. Well, right after childbirth I suppose is more accurate. She had time to name him and then she just... died. I – Gaara, what am I supposed to do? I've tried so hard to keep him, but I had to quit my job and then I couldn't make the rent. His grandparents are trying to take him from me... but he's mine! I just – I don't think I have strength enough to raise him like I want to."

"...Stay here then."

"Huh?"

"You need a place to stay, and I've got an extra room you can use. Stay as long as you need. There are some girls upstairs I'm sure they could baby-sit for you when you need it. And- oomph!"

"Thank you Gaara! So much!"

"Let go, stupid! I can't breathe!"

"Wahhh!"

"Naruto, your brat is crying... make it stop before I do."

That had been the entire conversation. Granted, there had been a lot of pauses, and a lot of staring going on between their words.

And suddenly, after fifteen minutes of sitting and talking to the blond – he had fallen asleep. Just like that. And it had been up to Gaara to carry said blond to bed. Much to his dismay, Gaara found that he also had to bring Ryuu to bed and the baby had taken quite an interest in this new adult.

It took five minutes to pry the little leech from his shirt.

Gaara supposed it could be worse. The child could have hated him tremendously and cried whenever in his presence. Or it could have made a mess of its diaper while in his arms.

He wasn't sure, but Gaara doubted that Naruto had a large supply of baby necessities handy. Besides the baby backpack which held two bottles of formula, a teddy-bear missing one eye (which looked to have been chewed off), a baby blanket, maybe three diapers, and a few changes of clothes for Naruto and Ryuu, Naruto hadn't been carrying anything at all. Gaara knew that the blond didn't have a car anymore. This meant that the blond must have sold it in an attempt to make the rent. Sold the car and all the rest of his belongings – which was just stupid.

Why hadn't Naruto just called him from the beginning? They had been best friends since they were five – they shared everything. Their history might have been a bit rough in later years, but Naruto had to know that Gaara would take care of him for eternity if he asked.

Truthfully, Naruto didn't have to ask for help, but Gaara was too oblivious to most of the world to notice if his friend needed his help.

Eventually, after too much thinking, Gaara laid himself down on the couch and did his best to fall asleep. However, sleep had never favored the red haired man so he lay alternating between dozing fitfully and staring at the ceiling fan as it spun lazily in an attempt to stir the air around the room.

Gaara's body had long since realized that it wasn't going to be much sleep, so it had adjusted its sleeping needs. About an hour of spaced out sleep was sufficient now.

Sometime around four he thought he heard sounds of movement in his room, which he dismissed. Naruto slept like a rock, and nothing short of a child crying in his ear would wake him.

Around six the blond appeared in Gaara's line of sight, bright orange sleep clothes covering his frame (which meant that he had been up at four), and a bright smile on his face.

"What sort of food do you have around here?" He asked, flashing that same smile – only brighter. "I'll make breakfast for you."

"Leftovers."

There was a vague wrinkling of a nose. "That's it? No frozen pizzas, no tofu or ramen? Not even cereal?"

"One of the guys across the hall is a chef. He cooks for the entire landing on Saturday's and I always end up with the leftovers. They're sufficient."

Deciding, "hey, why not?" Naruto nodded and headed into the kitchen area. He rummaged through the fridge for a moment before pulling out a Tupperware, threw its contents onto a plate he had found in the sink, and tossed it into the microwave for two minutes.

Then he disappeared back into the bedroom, presumably to fetch his son.

His son.

That sounded so weird. So... depressing.

A moment later Naruto was back, this time toting the small demon in his arms. Ryuu looked to be still sleeping, which was a relief because Gaara didn't want to spend his morning in a staring contest with a two month old child.

"He usually sleeps until about eight," Naruto explained, shoving the baby into Gaara's arms and going to retrieve the leftovers from the microwave.

Gaara, for one, didn't quite know how to react. However, that option was taken away from him a moment later because there was a sudden knock on his door.

"Gaara? Open up!" Came the voice of his neighbor Hyuuga Neji – the only of his neighbors who would ever bother him so early in the morning. "There's a bag sitting outside your door. Is it yours?"

Unthinkingly, Gaara stood and walked to open his door in order to glare at the man outside it. Wrenching open the door forced only silence to meet him.

And then Ryuu began to wake up.

"Is that a baby?"

"Uh..."

Ryuu began to make slight whimpering noises; obviously he was just as annoying as his father when it came to waking up unwillingly.

Silence reigned between Gaara and Neji.

"Where did you get a baby and how in the world did it survive with you taking care of it?"

More silence, which really took away from the conversation.

"Gaara? Breakfast is ready, what are you- who's that?"

Ryuu began making more whimpering noises upon hearing his fathers' voice. And when Naruto walked into sight, the baby began reaching for him over Gaara's shoulder.

"Oh, I see." Neji said, a smirk spreading across his features. "You've found a friend."

Without even turning around, Gaara knew that Naruto had immediately reddened. His entire body stiffened, remembering too much of his past with those simple words.

The truth was – there was only one thing keeping Gaara from punching Neji in the face. And that was the fact that Ryuu was now flat out crying in his arms. This obstacle was quickly removed by Naruto.

"What did you want, Hyuuga?" Gaara ground out, his hand now twitching freely in its eagerness to punch the only face he knew to be paler than his own.

With that same smirk present on his features, Neji bent over and hauled a rather large bag off of the landing floor. "This was sitting outside your door. It's full of clothes and stuff and Shikamaru and Chouji already denied owning it. So I thought it might be yours. Perhaps it's your friend's and he forgot it in his eagerness to be with you."

A certain green left eye began twitching.

"Naruto! Is this bag yours?" Gaara growled into the apartment.

"Huh? Oh, uh... yeah."

"Well, there we go. Mystery solved." Neji said, still smirking. "Anyway, Gaara... I do hope that you're going to bring your charming friend over for dinner tonight. I think Chouji said he was going to cook something different this week. And Shikamaru said he had a new video game for us to try out. Oh, and did you start that book I lent you–"

The door slammed in Neji's face, the dead lock was shoved home in mid-sentence.

He could hear the pale skinned boy chuckling to himself through the door, which only served to irritate him more. But at the same time, it felt nice to have a sort of friend who would take a moment from his day to speak with him – even if it was in a jokingly smug and irritating way that unknowingly dredged up too many memories.

"How do you like your coffee?" Naruto asked a moment later, a now calm Ryuu balanced carefully in a sling around his neck and a tray holding two mugs of coffee and two plates of leftover food carefully gripped in his hands.

Gaara took one look at the blond before sighing. This whole situation was going to take a while to get used to.

AN: Please note the changes that I've implemented, mainly the conversation about Ryuu's mother. (Even if his full name is Hakuryuu, my apologies, Ryuu was just too simple for the story.)

--Sagi