A/N: Dream universe, about a year after their high school graduation. Just needed to write this particular scene. No guarantee I'll ever write the other moments I allude to in here. I wrote this while listening to Middle Class Rut's "New Low" on repeat, fyi.

"You should stay, Sasuke. Have another drink with me. If I was a little more drunk, I might just let y'give me a blowjob."

Yagura placed his hand on his shoulder, but Sasuke promptly removed it.

"It's not like I'm driving," he replied.

"It's late, and you're trashed." Yagura, so as to be obnoxious, casually glanced at his phone. "But, what do I care? You're a bitch to be around when you're in a mood."

"Right." Sasuke removed his leather jacket from off the back of the bar stool and slipped it on. "Like you're just effervescent with sparkle and charm."

"When have I ever sparkled?" Yagura asked, still scrolling through his Twitter feed, elbow half—hanging off the edge of the bartop.

"You're in no better state than me, you realize?"

"I'm not going to beg you to stay if that's what you're waitin' for." Yagura finally looked up from his phone. "You're a big boy now, right? A proper college kid and all that shit. There's no reason for you to hang out with us lowly musicians if you have class in the mornin'."

Sasuke flinched at his words, eyes narrowing. "Are you saying now that I'm in college I'm not allowed to be a musician, too? What crawled up your ass and died?"

Yagura snorted. "Wouldn't you like to know, asshole."

He sneered. "Not especially."

"I bet you would if it was Naruto."

"What did you just say?" Sasuke, in his anger, nearly pinched the tip of his finger off while in the process of zipping his jacket.

Flippantly, Yagura waved him off. "You heard me. Go home and cry about the fact your boyfriend is off in Illinois datin' hot chicks and doesn't wanna talk to you anymore."

It took all of his will power not to grab that beer bottle and smash it over Yagura's head.

"Fuck you, Yagura," were his parting words.

"Not even if you let me videotape it," Yagura retorted and returned to his phone.

Without any further reply, Sasuke stormed out of the bar. He was tired of the singer's shitty attitude. Once he was out of the bar, he found a secluded spot against the front of the brick building to have a quick cigarette. Not wanting to draw the attention of anyone who might recognize him, he hid away in the shadows, a hand deep in his pocket — and brooded.

Naruto? The fuck did he have to bring him up for?

Yagura had been acting like a shithead after recently getting dumped, but bringing up Naruto was low, even for him. Sasuke, after exhaling a puff of smoke, stared at his discolored fingernails. He'd been smoking and rolling cigarettes so often they'd turned an ugly yellow. Usually he painted them black so his parents (his mother, in particular) wouldn't notice. Not to say he saw them frequently these days. Itachi, last he heard, should be flying in tonight. Likely, he'd meet up with his friends first, so Sasuke would have to decide if he wanted to go home to see his brother, or wait to meet up with him later this week. His relationship with his father hadn't exactly been stellar despite it being over a year since he'd come out to his family.

What a summer that had been, he thought sarcastically.

Sasuke's arm fell to his side, pieces of ash falling from the end of his cigarette to the cold concrete. For a second, he had an impulse to creep on Naruto's feeds, but knew it would only make his mood worse. Not that he cared what Naruto was up to or who he was fucking. Sasuke had seen plenty of action regardless of whether they were speaking or not. It just happened they hadn't been speaking much at all, which was fine with him. After all, it was Naruto who decided to move back and forget about his friends in Seattle. Sasuke never would've thought he was such a flake and a hypocrite, but, then again, nothing surprised him about people anymore.

Just because he'd bared his feelings after coming out in the hopes Naruto might still be receptive to — something. And acting all jealous about Juugo that time, too? Whatever. Naruto's loss. He'd led Sasuke on through most of high school, so fuck him. Meanwhile, Sasuke had been trying to juggle his coursework while also performing and managing not only his band, but other friends'. To appease his father, he did enroll in business courses. When he could,, though, he snuck in a few music theory and production courses since University of Washington had some excellent facilities. Plus, it gave him access to their recording studios. He could sneak in and use them for some of his pet projects. The equipment was far superior to his own.

Once in a while he ran into his high school teacher (and Itachi's good friend) Kakashi—usually when out at a bar in the downtown area. That man was such a pain in the ass, and almost always asked about Naruto. Actually, everyone always asked him about Naruto. Like he was the blond's keeper. Sasuke was positive Naruto called his mother nearly every week, too. He probably didn't want to know the frequency with which Naruto spoke to Itachi (or vice versa).

At least his brother eventually learned not to talk about him while in Sasuke's presence, which wasn't too frequent nowadays. Itachi had become busy with graduate school, and Sasuke — suspected — Itachi might be dating someone, though he refused to reveal who it was. In his greatest moments of paranoia Sasuke might've even believed it to be Naruto. They were nauseatingly close. They always had been, but what did he care? Honestly.

He dropped the cigarette onto the ground, squashed it under his heavy black boot, and gazed up at the sky. It was clear and full of stars. The later it got, the more crowded the sidewalk became, and everyone was annoyingly loud. The tourists and locals alike came out in their most flamboyant attire, which normally Sasuke would've appreciated, but tonight it irritated him. Now, all he wanted to do was avoid people. He'd catch a bus back to the apartment he shared with two roommates, text Itachi, play around on his new electric guitar for a while, and pass out.

To avoid the growing crowd, he decided to take the back way down the alley that ran the length of the entire block of bars. Typically, it was well lit, but a few of the light posts were blown out. It wreaked of trash from the Dumpsters, too. He even spotted a rat crawling out from under one; its fur shone oddly silver in the moonlight. Sasuke paused, waiting for it to get across before walking onward. When did this part to town become so dirty, or had it always been this way?

It seemed he'd only taken a few more steps after the rat disappeared that Sasuke heard the sound of footsteps coming from behind him. Given that half of the gay community was out tonight, it didn't surprise him that regular patrons were finding an alternate route home. However, when he could hear the distinct sound of multiple footsteps moving at a suddenly quickened pace, Sasuke's heart rate picked up and he turned around just in time to get punched in the face. There were only seconds for him to realize what was happening before he was surrounded by four guys who looked to be his age or older. Because it was so dark, it was hard to make them out very well, but it appeared three of them were white and one hispanic. They all had on dark clothing, two of them with the hoods of their sweatshirts pulled up.

He stumbled back a few steps upon the impact of the first punch, knowing his nose had been broken and was now bleeding. Sasuke might've just been drinking, but his adrenaline and martial arts experience kicked in, literally. The hispanic attacker approached him, called him a "dirty faggot" and attempted to lunge at him only for Sasuke to land a kick to his ribs. Two of the others came at him after that, trying to get a hold of his arms—which allowed the last remaining asshole to throw a punch that, because Sasuke attempted to dodge, only nicked his ear.

It all happened so fast, and Sasuke, while struggling to believe this was truly happening, had it in the back of his mind how this could be his very last few moments on earth. If they had a gun, a knife, any type of weapon, he wouldn't be able to hold off all of them by himself, so he fought. He fought while thinking about all the stories he'd ever read about gay men, lesbians, trans men or women getting bashed and killed by bigots. Sasuke did not want to be a statistic. Thinking about this, he blindly kicked and punched, making contact on several occasions despite being attacked over and over again. At one point, he was thrown by two of them against the hard brick wall of one of the buildings. It knocked the wind out of him. All he could see was black while the back of his head pulsed dully. He wondered if it had opened up his skull. Another one—the hispanic man again—was on him, a hand wrapped about his throat. Sasuke remembered how very brown his eyes were, his complexion, the slight accent he had when he spat gross slurs. He remembered feeling some satisfaction in the man now having a cut that went across his left cheek. Maybe it was a good thing Sasuke hadn't had a manicure lately if his nails could do such damage. He should've worn that ring of Itachi's he often did nowadays, too, but he'd left it on the desk in his apartment. It was a strange thought to be having as another punch landed just under his right eye. It felt like his eye exploded on impact. Sasuke took hold of the front of the guy's hooded sweatshirt, shook him, and kicked him in the groin. The expression he saw was so gratifying, but by then Sasuke had lost the strength in his legs and started to collapse.

Luckily, near the entrance of the alley, it sounded as if a large group was heading their way, spooking all of his attackers. The hispanic man dropped Sasuke to the ground. All four of them took off in the opposite direction, leaving Sasuke on the cold concrete, next to a Dumpster. To be honest, he wasn't sure how long all of that had lasted. He couldn't open one of his eyes and was positive he was bleeding out his nose. No doubt he had a concussion and other various scratches and bruises that would appear tomorrow if they hadn't already. There was something wrong with his wrist, too, because he tried to reach into his coat pocket for his phone only to wince in pain. The voices became louder as the group got closer to where he sat, crumpled like a rag doll. Sasuke expected them to stop when they passed, and as they walked by him, he tried to speak, but couldn't get anything out after being choked so damn hard.

They passed, and not a single one glanced his way. They must've thought him a vagrant given that he was on the ground and nearly hidden by the Dumpster. He felt helpless.

Sasuke couldn't speak, couldn't move, couldn't ask for aid.

The group... simply kept walking.

Sasuke remained there for a while, trying to snap himself out of his shock while attempting to take stock of all of his injuries and whether he could get up. If he could just get to his phone, he might be able to call for help—but who could he call? There's no way he'd call his parents. Itachi wasn't in town yet. Suigetsu wouldn't answer. All of Itachi's friends were pissed at him.

That left…

Well, what good would that do him?

Maybe it was the concussion or the after effects of all that adrenaline, or possibly even blood loss, but—reaching slowly into his pocket despite the pain—he pulled out his phone.

It took effort to unlock it, to open up his contacts, and scroll through.

Rin.

That was a name he hadn't thought of in a long time, but she was still listed in Sasuke's contacts. Was she even in Seattle anymore? She'd stopped playing with her band about a year ago and had gone to South America for a while.

It wasn't Rin he was looking for anyway.

Sasuke, scrolling through his contacts again, stopped on one name in particular. He opened up a text message, stared at the stark white space, and typed with a single finger.

having a nice night?

He sent it, staring at the screen. No reply after several minutes. Not that he'd expected one.

i've had better, he typed a second message.

Sasuke stared at his phone as if willing Naruto to respond like this were The Shining.

Eventually, he stared so long that the screen darkened and relocked.

Not knowing what else to do, Sasuke continued to sit amongst the garbage and rats. He must've remained there for close to 40 minutes before dragging himself to his feet. Using the wall to support himself, Sasuke dusted himself off, rearranged his soiled clothes, and wiped at his face. When he held his fingers close to his face, there was blood. Sasuke touched the back of his head and then looked at his hand again. There was blood there, too, some of it crusted. It only hurt a little bit. Then again, didn't being in shock dull all of that?

He hoped so because all he wanted to do was go home. Sasuke made his way down another couple of blocks, the direction he'd originally been heading. When he exited the alley, there were a few people waiting near a bus stop, but all they did was stare at him and move away.

Sasuke was too tired to be bothered, but it did occur to him that if any of them were Naruto, he could imagine that idiot being the first to charge up to—not just him, but any stranger—and demand that he go to a hospital or call an ambulance. How annoying. Butting into someone's business like that. Sasuke was just fine. He was okay. He could take care of himself. Clearly.

When the bus arrived and he got on, swiping his ORCA card, the middle-aged black female driver was the first person to ask if he was okay.

"I'm amazing," he said.

"Son, I think you need to go to a hospital," she replied.

"I don't believe the bus goes that route."

After that, he stumbled to the back of the bus and slumped down into a seat. Sasuke remembered staring out the window—his reflection showing his arms crossed to his chest and his dirty, bloodied face. In a way, however fucked up the situation, it was a bit like being a part of a Fight Club. There had been a rush. After all, it was easier to think of it that way than admit he'd been the victim of a hate crime. If he started to dwell on that, there'd be no turning back.

There was a point he blacked out but was awakened by his phone vibrating in his pocket. After getting past the initial where the fuck am I moment, Sasuke remembered whom he'd texted earlier. His heart was already beating fast as he pulled out his phone and looked at the text message, feeling an odd thrill that Naruto had replied after months of radio silence.

Wait until Sasuke told him about this shit.

He read the message in his inbox.

I just landed

Itachi.

He must've stared at his phone for 10 minutes before replying.

cool. want to meet me at the hospital?

It was only 30 seconds later that his phone rang.

He picked up, voice cracking slightly. "'Ello?"

"What's going on?" Itachi asked.

"Nothing. Forget it."

"Where are you?"

"On a bus," he answered, but, looking around, he was the only rider left.

"Why did you ask about a hospital?"

"I might need one, but, like I said, I'm on a bus."

"Sasuke, what the hell is going on right now?"

"I, uh." He closed his eyes. "Got jumped by some fucks after leaving a gay bar."

"Jesus," Itachi muttered. "Are you okay? Are you alone?"

"Besides the bus driver, yeah."

"I'll take an Uber and be right there. Which hospital is closest for you?"

"I think… the emergency room… close to campus."

"Do I need to call an ambulance?"

"No," he said facetiously. "I'm fine."

"You're clearly not fine. I'll go right to the waiting room and come find you."

"Itachi…?" He asked, and then felt a painful stabbing sensation in his ribs that caused him to take in a sharp inhale of breath. "...D-don't tell anyone about this."

Itachi paused before replying hesitantly. "...Alright."

"That includes Naruto."

"Sasuke—"

Sasuke hung up on him. He had an urge to vomit and did so on the floor. The bus came to a screeching halt. The driver bolted toward the back, hovering over him.

"Jesus, boy. You need a hospital! I'm calling 911!"

He wiped at his mouth, looking up at her with his one good eye. "Don't. I'm… J-just drop me off near there, I'll walk. Someone's," he coughed, "Going to meet me."

"I don't think—" She began to argue, but quickly nodded, and went to the front of the bus. The driver used the radio to let them know she was making an unexpected stop due to—

But, Sasuke couldn't make out the words any longer. It wasn't coherent to him.

His head drooped, and every bump of the road caused significant pain.

A couple of times he almost vomited again, so he was proud that when they did make it to the hospital, he'd been able to keep from blowing chunks.

The driver was kind enough to help him through the doors of the emergency room where nurses rushed quickly to help her. Sasuke didn't realize he was in that bad of a condition until he noted their faces. They were asking him questions, including if he was a student. Sasuke remembered nodding, but everything that followed from that point on remained rather fuzzy. They transferred him to an examination room, where he sat alone for some time.

A doctor came in, examined him, and left again. Sasuke crawled up onto the examining table and shut his eyes only for another nurse to come in and scold him for falling asleep.

"What the fuck am I supposed to do?" He grumbled at her.

How long he lay there, he wasn't sure, but next he opened his eyes—Itachi stood beside the table, staring down at him. The initial look he had on his face seemed foreign to him.

"Who died?" Sasuke asked.

Itachi appeared to snap out of it. "I think we should call mother and father. You won't be able to hide this from them."

"I'll tell them I fell down some stairs," he replied, attempting a smirk, which was hard to do when his facial muscles were working about as well as a stroke victim's. "Take a picture. We'll put it on Snapchat or Instagram. I look tough, don't I?"

"You look like you got the shit kicked out of you, Sasuke," Itachi answered and proceeded to nearly poke Sasuke's other eye out while observing the damage.

"Watch it. I've only got one good one left."

Itachi, with his brow deeply furrowed, shook his head. "I'm glad you can find humor in this situation. The police will be here so that you can file a report."

"How?" He asked. "I don't know who they were. Just random assholes in an alley."

"Didn't you get a good look at them?"

"It was dark."

Itachi frowned.

"Itachi," he said, "Don't make a bigger deal about this than it is. I don't want that. I don't…"

I don't want to feel like a victim.

"I will leave it to you," Itachi told him. "But, I think you should report what you can. They'll be coming in anyway since it's part of hospital protocol. Tell them what you remember."

"Whatever." He went to rub at his forehead and winced. "I want to see it."

"No, you really don't," Itachi replied, obviously not making any attempt to hold back about the state of his face. "I'll get a hotel room for us tonight. So you don't have to go to the apartment."

"I can go to the apartment," he argued.

Itachi raised an eyebrow. "I'll take care of it."

"...Okay." Sasuke shut his eyes, too tired to argue further. "Thank you," he said after a minute. "Sorry to fuck up your plans. I know you wanted to hang out with your friends."

"Don't say such foolish things, little brother."

Sasuke snorted. "... I… I'm tired."

"I bet you are." Itachi carefully brushed his bangs to the side.

He coughed again, the action causing pain in his side. "Ribs hurt."

"Yes, I believe the doctor said he thinks one or two are broken."

"I think I broke a nose or two," he said. "I fought back."

"Just rest," Itachi advised. "No sleeping, though, or I'll be forced to flick you in the forehead."

"I've experienced worse." Sasuke opened his one eye. "Don't forget… "

"Hm?" Itachi stuck his hand into his coat pocket.

"Don't tell Naruto," Sasuke repeated. "...Please."

Itachi stared at him for a long moment before nodding. "Very well."

It brought him relief for some reason. Although, he had to admit there was a sense of disappointment Naruto never texted back. If their friendship had ever meant anything to the idiot, wouldn't he be able to feel this happening to Sasuke? Like a disturbance in the force?

He should take it as a sign.

Something hurt.

"Does it hurt?" Itachi asked.

"Why… d-do you ask?" His voice was raspy, throat sore, too.

"You're crying, Sasuke."

Sasuke felt his cheek. There was a tear rolling down, toward his chin.

"I'm fine," he replied. "It'll be fine."

"Then rest a while. I'll go check with the doctor again. You'll need stitches."

He only had the strength to nod.

Itachi exited the room. Despite the pain it caused, Sasuke rolled onto his side and stared at the stark white wall of the hospital room. He held it in for all of 30 seconds before loudly sobbing. Sasuke couldn't stop, and the noises that came from him as he curled in on himself would've been embarrassing for him if anyone else had been around to hear it. He cried for so long that his only good eye swelled up and burned from the sheer volume of tears. By then, it was near impossible to cry at all, so he simply lay there, staring at the wall, the weight of what happened finally hitting him full force. He couldn't get it out of his mind; it rocked him in waves of grief, pain, guilt, confusion, anger, fear, sadness.

Other people had gone through this before him, had suffered worse. He'd been lucky tonight, and he knew it. Now, he understood first-hand. This had been why it took him so long to come out in the first place. That fear, that knowledge of being different from everyone else but not wanting to accept it. It made him feel small and weak to be put in this situation.

But, after tonight—Sasuke vowed to never, ever allow himself to feel like this helpless again.