A/N: This is the back story of my Gaara and Shukaku that were first seen in my fic Delicious, but this one can be read alone. Now, this story does contain some dark and disturbing content in the form of torture (mental and physical), to the point where I almost couldn't finish writing it. So, that has been said, and to everyone who keep reading, enjoy!
Shukaku scowled down at the pavement, kicking a rock as he and Gaara walked back home from school. It was their first year of high school, hell, their first month, and already they were about to be expelled.
He grumbled under his breath, tonguing the cut on his bottom lip, right next to his labret piercing. Those assholes at school had played dirty. He and 'Ra had been all set to beat the hell out of them with just their fists, but noooooo, they had to grab a big ass stick.
"Fuckin' assholes," he grumbled, and Gaara just grunted next to him. He looked side long at his twin, wincing slightly at the still sluggishly bleeding head wound, above his right eye. They were both suspended for three days, but damn if it hadn't felt good to beat the shit out of those assholes.
As they walked past the park that was close to their home, they slowed without realizing it. They both knew what awaited them at the house, and neither of them were eager to get there. He let his eyes wander through the park, admiring the blooms that the city tried hard to keep pretty – and did a good job of. This was the place that they usually went to when they needed to get away, and they weren't the only ones.
He poked Gaara's shoulder when he spied two familiar – and very bright – heads of hair, sitting on the swings towards the back of the park.
"Hey 'Ra, let's go say hi to Naru and Kyuu. We haven't seen them in awhile."
Gaara just eyed him and then looked where he pointed, before nodding slightly. They changed course, and Shukaku knew exactly what kind of greeting they would get from the red head…
"Shukaku! Gaara! Damnit. What is up with you three? I swear, I can't go a day without patching you up!"
This rant was said as the oldest male was digging through his backpack, and Naruto was grinning broadly at them, a bandage wrapped around his head, on his cheek, and around his knuckles.
Shukaku snickered as he and Gaara sat down, waiting for Kyuu to pull out everything he would need. It was awesome having an older brother figure who was a doctor.
"Who did you beat the shit out of Naru?" he asked, and Naruto snickered too.
"Sasuke. He was being all high and mighty, so I had to put his ass in place!"
The conversation dwindled onto the topic of school, teachers, and things they wanted to do as Kyuu knelt in front of Gaara. Kyuu was the only one besides Naruto and Shukaku that could touch his twin without fear of getting their arms broken, and he submitted easily as the blood was stopped and the wound bandaged. Kyuu then checked over the rest of him, tsking under his breath as he bandaged Gaara's bloody and bruised knuckles.
He then turned his attention to Shukaku, and he gave the man an innocent smile that Kyuu snorted about. "If you three are going to get into so many fights, you should just tape your knuckles permanently."
They all got a good laugh from that, and it settled into a peaceful silence.
Namikaze Kyuubi and Naruto, the real underdogs. Kyuu had been five when their mother got pregnant with Naruto, but her pregnancy had been a high risk one. She hadn't survived, and their father just couldn't get over it. He had tried, for two years, but Minato's heart had never healed, and he could never get over her death.
He had killed himself right in front of them when Kyuu was seven, and Naruto two.
They had been sent to an orphanage, since their godfather was unreachable. Which was understandable since Jiraiya was a naturalist, and spent years out in the world, often in places that had no cell phone service. Their trust fund was untouchable until Kyuubi turned eighteen, and Jiraiya hadn't even known what happened until they had spent three years in that place.
It was in those three, horrible years that the four of them had met.
Their mother had died giving birth to them, just like Naruto's. However, their father hadn't committed suicide. No, he and their older siblings Kankuro and Temari had turned their grief into anger, and then hatred towards the twins. Their siblings were scared of their father, and fright turned into rage that was taken out on them. They were the whipping boys of the household, and had been for their entire life.
Their father had never put hands on them like Temari and Kankuro, but he did other things. Like, hiring people to attack them as they walked home from school. Or sent out for errands. Oh yes, they had quickly become wary when their father sent them out.
It was actually that first attempt that sent Kyuu into medical school. After Jiraiya had come back, the brothers had begun living with him, and while Jiraiya wasn't the best parent, he did what he could. Kyuu had graduated high school at 15, and that summer was when the twins were put into the hospital for the first time by attackers. It was sheer luck that they had survived, but they had killed the two men that had come after them.
Kyuu had thrown himself into schooling with a vengeance, while dragging the three younger boys to martial arts classes four days out of the week.
Now, at 20 years old, Kyuubi was one of the youngest doctors in history – and their personal physician.
Shukaku blinked out of his daze, finding Gaara's head on one leg and Naruto's on the other, while Kyuubi was reading a book. He looked at the sun, and sighed quietly. It was enough for Gaara to shift and Kyuu to look over at him with a dark look.
"You have to go, don't you?"
He nodded, swallowing thickly. Like any other time, he would make the offer, and they would decline…but how he wished they could accept.
"You know, you two could come-"
"Kyuu, don't. We can't, and you know it."
Kyuu sighed as Shukaku removed Naruto's head from his leg, the blond groaning and wincing as he straightened. Gaara didn't move until Shukaku poked him, but those dark ringed eyes looked up at him with barely disguised pleading. Neither of them wanted to go home, but…
"C'mon 'Ra…we need to go," he said quietly, and Gaara stood with a small nod. He followed suit, and sighed softly. "Thanks Kyuu, for…ya know." He waved at the bandages.
"It's no problem. You know our house is always open to you two."
"We know," Gaara whispered, and took Shukaku's hand. The two of them waved and began walking out of the park, feeling so much older than their 14 years.
There was one reason only. It was the only reason why they kept going back.
They had just entered their neighborhood – a place of nice houses where the neighbors didn't care what happened around them – when it happened.
Three men jumped from the large bushes and trees, and Shukaku immediately swung his rather heavy back pack at the first man who came for him. The world faded into terrible clarity as anger sang deep in his veins, and he released a growl as he kicked out at the staggering man. A snarl came from behind him followed by a yelp of pain, and he knew his twin was holding his own.
As though he had any doubt of that in the first place.
A well placed kick to his already bruised ribs had him cringing, but he shut the pain away and continued to fight.
The men didn't last long against two teenagers that were full of rage and hate, and had been training to defend and kill since they were 8. Shukaku got the man in a headlock, and with a vicious twist, broke his neck.
He immediately whipped around, and his world faded as Gaara cried out when a switch blade sank deep between his ribs.
Shukaku didn't remember killing the other two, but he must have. His world had faded into black and red, and by the time he came to, he found himself at the Namikaze's door, Gaara pale and unconscious in his arms. He kicked the wood viciously, not even realizing that he was covered in blood.
Not all of it was Gaara's.
"Open the fucking door Kyuubi!" He continued kicking the door as he yelled, and said man almost got one in the balls when the door was flung open, saved only by his quick reflexes.
"Shukaku! What the fu…oh shit! Get in here now!"
Shukaku did without a moment's hesitation, flying down the hallway to the medical room that Kyuubi made for home visits. Kyuu was right behind him, and pushed him to the head of the bed while he snapped some gloves on, and started cutting Gaara's shirt off.
His voice was grim when he spoke. "Do I even need to ask how this fuck up happened?"
Shukaku just looked at him dully. He felt hollowed out, but his heart was thumping painfully as he stroked the faint, self-inflicted scar on Gaara's forehead. There was something inside him trying to break free, but he couldn't figure it out right now. What he did know, was that it was dark and ugly.
He tuned back in to find Kyuu muttering to himself angrily, though his hands were gentle as he prodded the rather small stab wound. "Fucking father. I would get so much pleasure out of killing the bastard. Sending thugs after his own sons….fucking asshole…"
He couldn't help but smirk faintly. Looking over the cinnamon hair, he saw Naruto in the door, watching with angry, tired eyes. They met, and Naruto gave him a small smile as he walked into the room. Shukaku wasn't sure if he could handle any sympathy at the moment, but he didn't stop the blond when he wrapped an arm around his chest, pulling Shukaku back against his broader body. Naruto's free hand ran gently through the red hair of his twin, and with their combined efforts, the frown that had been marring Gaara's brow smoothed out…mostly.
Kyuubi had stopped muttering, and he glanced over to Shukaku as he began to stitch up the wound. "The knife missed all his internal organs, thankfully. With your healing, he should be fine to move about in a day or two." Those startling sea blue eyes hardened. "Neither of you are leaving until you can walk."
He opened his mouth to protest, but it was gone with a harsh sigh as Gaara's eyes snapped open and then closed with a wince.
"Gaara? How're you feeling?" he whispered, and Gaara cracked one eye open, glaring at him.
"Like shit, how do you think I feel?" his twin growled, and Shukaku smiled in relief. If Gaara was cussing already, he'd be fine.
The relief made him faint, and he listed to the side, suddenly very grateful that Naruto's arm was holding him up. His stomach churned uneasily, and he made a lunge for the waste basket in the room. Everything that he had eaten that day came up, but his body continued to rebel until it was nothing but dry heaves.
"'m fine," he slurred absently, but his head was a vertigo of colors and thoughts, and that something deep inside him was finally beginning to break free. He felt hands on him, and his clothing being taken off, but they were faint. The only thing he could concentrate was the monster crawling up from the depths of his soul, whispering things that he shouldn't be listening to, but found himself agreeing with.
Death for him, death for them, sick of this life, sick of the pain, make it end, I can make it end…
His mind began to break free from his body, and he felt the trembles and shakes stop, but very, very distantly. He had enough in him to turn his head and see Gaara sitting in one of the chairs, and they had a moment that only twins seemed to have.
"They will pay for this 'Ra."
"I know Shu…and they will."
Before he passed out, he finally understood the cold, sadistic monster that lived inside Gaara…because his had finally come out.
-VvVvVvVvVvVvVvVvVvV-
Gaara stood in front of their house, Shukaku at his side. It was late that night, around 3am, and neither one of them had wanted to wait to enact the plans that were going on in their minds. They each knew that they would probably get life in prison, or even the death sentence because of what they were going to do, but…
The revenge would be more than sweet enough to make up for it.
They entered, and he shut the door silently behind them. His mind was awash in a strange sort of calm excitement, but it was on the outside of the bubble he found himself in. Inside the bubble, there was nothing. No emotions, no thoughts, nothing.
They had already agreed to the first two steps in their plan. Temari and Kankuro would die first, but they would be quick deaths.
He and Shukaku went up the stairs, a metal baseball bat clenched in his fist, and his twin was carrying a fist sized rock. They split, and he went to the left, into Temari's room. He stood looking down at his eldest sibling, his own sister, and vaguely wondered how their lives could have been different if their mother had survived.
Then his brain showed him the images of the things Temari had done – sneering "Clean that up." – her foot connecting with his head – her fists as they rained down on him, her shouting obscenities and telling him she wished he had died – watching impassively as their father verbally broke them down – and he decided that the past didn't matter anymore.
He woke her up, and as soon as her eyes focused on him, he raised the bat and brought it down on her head. Not enough to kill her, no…that would be reserved for later.
With strength he often hid, he grabbed her ankles and dragged her out of the room, not caring about the sounds that he made. Their father slept like the dead, and even now he could hear the man's snores from down the hall.
As he reached the top of the stairs, Kankuro's door opened and Shukaku emerged, dragging their brother by his wrists. A head wound bled freely. They said nothing as they dragged the two older siblings down the stairs, and he finally heard the snoring hitch and then stop as they hit the living room floor.
He shared a glance with Shukaku, and his twin nodded, racing through the kitchen to the laundry room at the back of it. In there was rope and tape, both of which they would need.
Gaara had just dragged Kankuro and Temari deeper into the living room when shuffling steps and muttering reached his ears.
"Fuckin' boys…middle of the night…should be dead…pain in my ass…"
Gaara frowned and turned towards the stairs, the bubble around his psyche beginning to fade a bit. Black, freezing rage began to slide up from inside him, but it wasn't time. Not yet.
His father came down the stairs, and Gaara dashed in. The man had no chance in his half-asleep state to respond quickly enough to keep the baseball bat from connecting with the side of his head.
Gaara stared at the man as Shukaku walked back in the room, the man who had made his and his twins life a living hell.
"Tie him to a chair," he said quietly, and walked past their unconscious father to his room. He knelt gingerly in front of his dresser and opened the bottom drawer. He lifted out the clothing and pulled out the false bottom, revealing a small, worn journal.
On the front, in feminine writing, was Karura.
They had found their mother's journal when they were six or so, after searching her room for some reason as to why their other family hated them. They had read through it countless times, finding comfort in the little bit of their mother they had left.
They had lost count of how many times she had said that she wanted a big family, since she had been an orphan herself. She had been so happy after the birth of Kankuro, and she had often described their father as loving, if a bit distant. She had been absolutely ecstatic when she had gotten pregnant with Gaara and Shukaku, but her worry had increased as her health decreased. Towards the end, she had described their father as becoming more aloof, and almost angry towards the children she hadn't even birthed yet.
It was the last line she had ever written that had really kept them in the house.
"I fear that I won't survive this birth, but that's ok. At least my two sons will have life, and that's fine with me. I just hope that my husband will love them and care for them as he does the other two. My sincerest hope is that even if the worst happens with me, my family won't break apart."
They had wanted to honor that request, and had tried their hardest to fulfill it. Everything had just spiraled out of control, ultimately ending up where they were now.
While the thought of physical torture appealed greatly to him, he had a better idea. At least, to him and Shukaku it was better.
With the journal, he was going to mentally shatter the man downstairs. He would pay for the pain and hatred that was directed to them by the very people who should have loved and supported them. The only thing they had ever gotten from their family was scorn and a unanimous wish that they were dead.
They both knew their father had no idea of the journals existence, because they had tested the waters with some indirect comments on it, and got no reaction. The man downstairs had no idea of its contents, and from the things they had learned over fourteen years, one honestly was this – their father had loved their mother.
A slow, cruel smile came over Gaara's lips. This was going to kill him.
He stood and walked back down the stairs, meeting eyes with his twin half way down. His heart thumped painfully in his chest, but it was with blood thirsty anticipation in identical teal eyes. Their father was strapped to a chair, head hanging low on his chest and blood still seeping sluggishly from the wound in his head. Gaara walked over to the man and stood in front of him. He studied the man for a moment, before pulling his hand back and slapping him with the journal.
When that got no reaction, he did it again, and was rewarded with a twitch of the eye. With one more, the eyes fluttered and opened slowly.
Gaara watched as they gained back a pained awareness, and then sharpened into hatred when he saw them. Gaara smirked openly when their father tried to talk, and only got the thick cloth of the gag, that was taped down. Shukaku leaned into him as they watched the man struggle futilely against the rope binding him. There was no other sound but his muffled yelling, and the even breathing from the two still deeply unconscious.
Even if they weren't planning on killing the two of them, the blows they had dealt would have left their siblings in a coma for the rest of their lives.
It wasn't long before the man settled for glaring at them and nothing more, and Gaara knew that it was time to begin. He absently wondered what a therapist would say about the dark excitement flowing through him.
"I'm not even going to ask why you made our lives a living hell," he began quietly, his deep voice only an echo of what it would become. "We don't want your excuses, nor do we care. My only question is this: what would mother have thought of the way you all treated us?"
Their father's eyes blazed with such acidic hatred and rage that it made Gaara all the more certain that what they were doing wouldn't be regretted. He didn't even wait for the man to calm down before waving the diary around and speaking.
"You don't even need to answer that question. I know what she would have said, because of this." He took great satisfaction in seeing the green eyes widen in shock when he realized exactly what the book was. His voice deepened with emotion. "She wanted us to be a family, father. Not the broken parody of what our lives are."
Shukaku reached for the book with his right hand, and backhanded the man with his right. It wasn't a soft hit either. Red immediately bloomed over his cheekbone, and Gaara gave his twin a sharp look, that was returned with a shrug.
"I've been wanting to do that all night," Shukaku said with a cocky smirk, clenching his fist in and out. Damn it had felt good to snap his head back!
"Let me tell you what mother said you asshole," he growled, flipping open to a well worn page. His and Gaara's fingers had traced the words so many times…
"I love him so much. Seeing him today with Kankuro and Temari just reminded me. We went to the park, and he helped little Kan all over the jungle gym. He pushed both of them on the swings, and laughed right along with them. It's so rare to see him relaxed like that anymore."
Shukaku stopped, having to swallow. It was a dream that he and Gaara had shared, to be pushed on the damn swings. Such a simple thing, but it would have been something he would have given an arm or leg for. He glanced up just in time to see shock and remembrance flash through, before the man closed his face off.
Shukaku almost giggled in manic glee. It was going exactly as planned. "She wanted us to be a family! She wanted you to love us like you did them!" His voice was a sing song, and before he could stop himself, he backhanded their father again. Then laughed in his face.
Something was itching in the back of his mind, and it wanted blood, his blood, their fathers blood, and would settle for nothing less.
He reached up a hand and backhanded him again, harder than the first time. "She would have hated you now."
There was a brief flash of knowing and grief, before it was shut out again. The mask sent a stab of annoyance through Shukaku, making him frown, so he hit their father again. "All she wanted was for you to love us! Why didn't you!"
Another backhand, and suddenly he was yelling, the backhands turning into fists. "It wasn't our fault, you prick! We fucking loved you! Why didn't you love- !"
He was cut off with a hand around his mouth, strong arms pulling him back against the familiar steely body. It was only then that he felt the hot tears coursing down his face. Their father was looking dazed with the pain, but it wasn't enough. It'd never be enough.
Gaara held him as he relearned how to breathe normally, and after a moment he nodded. Gaara released him and he took a deep breath, before smirking again.
It was time to end this.
"Do you want to know what we think of our family now, father?" Gaara said emotionlessly, and turned around. He walked over and grabbed Temari, dragging her by the hair over to the bound man. He began to struggle slightly in the ropes, but Shukaku was good at tying knots – there was no way he was getting out.
Between him and Shukaku, they were able to lever Temari up until she was straddling their father's lap, her head lolling back in her unconsciousness. Shukaku pulled out the butcher knife he had gotten from the kitchen, and smiled maliciously into their fathers wide, shocked eyes.
"Our family is dead."
In one easy motion, he brought the knife across her throat. Her blood sprayed all over the man as he yelled incoherently, his struggles growing. By the time her dying heart gave its last beat, he was glaring at them in hatred and grief, and winced as they let her body fall gracelessly to the floor.
Gaara and Shukaku relished the haunted look in the green eyes as they pulled Kankuro over, putting him in the same position as Temari was. Shukaku was the one to take the knife, splattering them both with blood as their brothers throat was slit, the grief and anger rising and taking an insane light in their father's eyes. Kankuro dropped to the floor with a resounding thud, and the twins stared down at the bodies that were once their siblings.
Finally, Gaara spoke quietly. "This is what you pushed us to, father. If you had only done what mother wanted you to, and loved us, we never would have felt the need for this." He waved his hand around on the last word, and picked up their mothers journal from where it had been dropped. He flipped to the last page, and traced a bloody finger over the last words. A red smear appeared, and he smiled slightly at the image. Then he looked up, smiling slightly at the pain as their father saw the blood being smeared across his wife's written word.
"The last thing she wrote, father, was 'I fear that I won't survive this birth, but that's ok. At least my two sons will have life, and that's fine with me. I just hope that my husband will love them and care for them as he does the other two. My sincerest hope is that even if the worst happens with me, my family won't break apart.'"
When he finally saw their father break, and tears coat the anguished green eyes, he suddenly felt nothing. There was no triumph, no happiness in seeing the object of all their fear and hate finally break down.
There was nothing.
Without a second thought, he took the knife from Shukaku, and slit the man's throat. The eyes widened in shock before sliding shut, the head falling forward as he bled to death in less than a minute.
They watched it all with no expression, and the sound of the knife dropping to the floor was loud. It snapped both their heads down to it, and Shukaku knew what he had to do. He walked calmly into the kitchen and picked up the phone, then dialed 911.
"Hello, what's your-"
"M-my family! Th-they're a-all d-d-dead!" He screamed, and began to sob – with dry eyes and a stoic face. The operator on the other line tried calming him down enough to find out what happened, but he was hearing none of it. After a few more screamed words, he hung up, knowing that their computers had located where the call was coming from.
Gaara was still staring at the knife, so Shukaku sighed and picked it up, wiping the handle clean and tossing it into a pile of blood. He grabbed the rock he used to hit Kankuro and threw it as far as he could into the backyard, before taking the baseball bat, wiped it down, and put it back in Gaara's room. While he was there, he grabbed them new clothing. He carefully looked around all the places he walked, and seeing no drops of blood or footprints, walked back over to Gaara.
"'Ra, here. Change out of your clothes." He stripped quickly and put his on, and Gaara slowly followed suit. Shukaku grabbed the bloodied clothing and hummed, thinking of where he could put them.
"Put them in the tree in back. The one we used to climb," Gaara said softly, and Shukaku grinned. Perfect place!
He raced out the back, knowing their time was running short, and scrambled up the trunk of the large maple. Nature and squirrels had made a hollow, and he stuffed the clothes in there before jumping down and running back inside. He had just made it back to Gaara when the door was slammed open.
They both looked up, expecting it to be the cops, but no. It was Kyuubi with only the shorts on he wore to bed, hair wild around him and eyes furious.
"You two-!" He stopped as he got a good look at what was behind them. He blanched, and Shukaku took that opportunity to grab Gaara and drag him to the floor, leaning against the wall not far from the puddle of blood that Temari had created. He pulled his twin to his chest, slightly worried about the blankness in Gaara's teal eyes, but he didn't have time to ask as sirens raced to their house.
They ignored anyone who tried talking to them, just sitting and staring blankly at the remains of their family, as Kyuubi talked to the police. They weren't so far gone as to not hear the story the man weaved.
The official story would be that they were planning on spending the night with Kyuubi and Naruto, but sometime during the night they must have gotten up to sleep in their own beds. It had gotten nods from some of the parents who had kids their age, and sympathetic looks towards them.
As the sun began to rise, the reality of what they had done really began to sink in.
Shukaku tightened his arms around Gaara, and his twin responded by holding his forearms tighter.
"They're really gone," he whispered, and Gaara nodded once, hand trailing up to touch the scar on his forehead. "We…"
"Yes, we did," Gaara said softly, head hanging low.
Hysterical laughter threatened Shukaku's throat, and he buried his head in Gaara's shoulder as his shoulders began to shake. The knowledge that they were finally free of the torture their family had inflicted made giddy relief bubble in him. No more errands, no more kicks, or punches, or…anything.
When Gaara petted his head, Shukaku knew he felt the same.
They were free.
-VvVvVvVvVvVvVvVvVvV-
It only took a month for the investigation to be closed, and not once did anyone look to the twins. They had been staying with Kyuubi and Naruto, but for the duration, the elder never said anything, even though they knew Kyuu knew.
It was late that night, after they had gotten the call that the investigation was being closed, that Kyuubi sat them down at the table, and looked between them with hard eyes.
"Did you do it?"
The twins didn't even have to look at each other. Staring calmly at Kyuubi, they both nodded slowly. The bright blue eyes closed with a frown, as the man sighed deeply. He then stood, shaking his head.
"Get some sleep boys. Tomorrow we're going to find a place of your own for you to live."
He went upstairs, but the twins continued to sit there for a moment longer, before sharing a look.
"We can finally start our lives, 'Ra."
Gaara smiled slightly. "Yes we can, Shu. Yes we can."