Updated quickly, because I've got no life right now. Tomorrow though is the last day before school starts, so I won't be updating, I don't think. This weekend should probably be the next update.

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto.

Warnings: Violence, angst, crazy Deidara and implied yaoi.


The key to dealing with crazy stalkers, mercenaries, and maniacs was remaining calm. If you slowed your heart rate, remained rational, and didn't jump immediately into battle, usually you could sway off the attackers. And then, when they least expected it, you would have the advantage, and the opportunity, to throw the first punch.

But Gaara didn't feel calm. And he didn't even have the chance to try and settle before the man behind him was aiming a kick at the small of his back. And even though his gourd softened the blow, he was sent flying forward, soaring over the rail and the sightless bird. He turned in the air, back aimed at the ground, and reached out with a thick rope of sand to grasp the rail and hang on as he fell. It caught, stilled his descent, and his attacker was on him once again.

Gaara caught a flash of ebony hair before his eyes rolled back. The air in his lungs left him as a boot caught him square in the gut, and both Kazekage and villain plummeted towards the sandy ground below.

And even though sand was supposed to be soft, it felt hard as rock when his back slammed into it. It surely didn't help that the man assaulting him had used him as a pillow for the fall, and as he coughed and wheezed the man stepped nimbly off him.

"I've come to ask you something." He said softly, a kunai appearing in his hand. Gaara tried to memorize his face along with the flash of silver metal, but his sight was fuzzy. He rolled as the blade descended for his neck, and a wave of sand erupted from beneath him. It lifted him high into the air, separated into a dozen different steps, and he ran from pillar to pillar of crumbling sand as fast as he could. Below him his assassin was slicing through the platforms, dashing after him faster than Gaara could have ever imagine.

The palace, now that he looked up at it, was still very far off.

"Stop running away, I only wish to speak with you. If you'd just settle down, I wouldn't have to use violence against you."

Gaara scoffed, teetered on the edge of a falling platform, and dove for the ground, his hands forming the symbols for a jutsu he'd not used in quite awhile. As he hit the ground, he slipped and fell on his stomach as the sand beneath him floated into the air. His attacker watched calmly, kunai in hand, as a thousand needles formed above their heads.

Gaara would feel them as a light rain. His attacker, however, would be pierced over and over, each blow more devastating than the last. And, he thought to himself, it was almost always a fatal attack. As the needles fell, however, and his attacker only stood there, Gaara began to fear the worst.

This man was much more powerful than he had thought.

A field had appeared around the man, an invisible aura that shattered any needle that came in contact with it. Gaara watched, wide-eyed, as the attack dragged on and on, never once breaking the barrier. When at last the final needle fell, useless, to the sand-strewn ground, the red head gulped.

"Are you done then?"

He looked up into the face of a man he had never met, never seen, and was blinded by the glint of metal on his forehead. The man, noticing this, cocked his head a fraction of an inch to the side, and Gaara could see the symbol for the leaf village.

But that wasn't what made his heart drop to the pit of his stomach.

The slash through the middle did.

"Akatsuki?" He said breathlessly, the word like poison on his tongue. He'd been warned so often to avoid the organization at all costs, and here he was, completely vulnerable on the ground, looking one of their S-ranked criminals right in the face.

A face he found somewhat familiar now that he really focused.

Ebony hair in a delicate frame, fine eyebrows and charcoal eyes... yes, he'd seen that face on one other, a much younger, but easily comparable set of features, indeed. This man, whoever he may be, was obviously an Uchiha.

He spoke then, voice smooth as mercury and just as poisonous. His words held a very comfortable power, and he was in no way defensive.

"I think you know why I'm here, Kazekage. So if you'll just come along quietly, I won't have to hurt you."

At that, Gaara found himself offended.

"Just what were you trying to do a minute ago, then? You attacked me first, which I would find to be in the category of hurting someone."

"I was simply letting you know what I was capable of." The Uchiha replied lazily. He reached down and, with very feminine but powerful hands, yanked the red head up from the sand. Gaara, to his amazement, found himself dangling a good six inches off the ground. Gourd or no gourd, he somehow knew it wouldn't have made a difference. But he wished very much for that familiar weight on his back, and eyed the contents of said container on the ground longingly.

It twitched at his gaze.

The Uchiha shook him.

"Don't get any ideas. I'm very serious about hurting you."

"Hurting? Yes, I can tell." Gaara spat as the mans hands twisted in his shirt. He choked at the weight on his throat, and found the sun to be blinding him once again. "But you can't do anything to me, not really at least."

"I could kill you quite easily, Lord Kazekage."

"And yet I'm still alive." He growled back.

"For now."

The Uchiha, whose temper seemed to flare quite quickly, pulled him closer.

"You'll see soon enough how special a situation you're in."

And, suddenly, Gaara was in the air again. The Uchiha had thrown him, full-strength, as far away from him as possible. Gaara spun in the air, reaching out with his hands, and pulled the sand to him. It formed a cocoon and tightened around him, but still exploded on impact as he collided with the side of the palace wall. He coughed in the thick air, rubbing at his stomach, and gingerly stumbled to his feet. His attacker stood stock still where he had been before, eying him passively.

Why had he thrown him?

"Itachi sure does have an unorthodox way of working."

Gaara spun on his heel, caught completely by surprise at the voice to his right. He'd spun too fast, though, and pin-wheeled his arms to say upright. He felt like an idiot, and didn't take well to looking a fool in front of these people.

The one before him, after all, was definitely in league with the Uchiha.

This man, who Gaara found amazingly strange, was entirely blue. He stared in open-mouthed wonder, gaping at the villain, until the man made a sharp noise in his throat.

"Kind of rude, aren't you? If you keep your mouth open like that, you're going to get a mouthful of sand."

His jaw snapped closed with a chink of pearly teeth, and Gaara glared at this intruder. This mans headband, which was christened with the symbol of Kirigakure, was slashed straight through the middle.

Gaara swallowed around the knot in his throat.

"What do you two want?"

The man blinked at him, looking for all the world the fish he resembled. Confused, he turned towards the Uchiha, who shrugged.

"I haven't properly explained our appearance yet. Not completely, at least." He said simply, and the blue man nodded.

"Right then. Well, we're here to bring you back with us, obviously, or you would've been dead already. But you see-"

"Kisame. He doesn't need to know all the details. It's best if others do that, anyway. All we need to do is get him back to Headquarters."

Headquarters? Details? Gaara's head was spinning, his stomach aching, and he wished only for the moment when all of this would be explained. He knew, though, more than anything, that he could not go with these two. He would fight, at all costs, to get away. The palace was right behind him after all, if he could just run fast enough...

"Should we cut him up a bit more? Make sure he doesn't get any ideas on the way there? You remember that last Jinchuuriki. The kids are always especially slippery..."

"No fatal wounds. Just break his wrists or something."

Appalled by how casually they spoke, and how easily it came to them to speak of such horrors in placid tones, Gaara was given the courage to take a deep breath, and quickly formed the seals he knew he would need.

The blue haired man was the first to turn his eyes back to the Kazekage, but by then it was too late.

The ground erupted beneath them, and Gaara was sent spiralling into the sky, the sand twisting around him and propelling him further and further upwards. He heard a curse from below, and smirked to himself. The balcony he had fallen from earlier came into reach, and Gaara reached out to grasp the cool railing in his hands.

Easily he leaped over it and the sand that had carried him up fell back down, blanketing the ground and the two men who had been scaling the palace wall to recapture him.

It seemed, as he dashed across the balcony to the heavy double doors, that everything was going to be fine, and that he was home free. He would run inside, call for help, and then the guards would help him take down these two mysterious men.

Heart pounding in his chest, he took a firm hold of the door handle and pulled.

It didn't budge.

He yanked at the door, pounded his fists against it, kicked once, twice, three times, and even threw a massive whirlwind of sand at the glass. But it stayed the same, completely unhindered, mocking in it's cool complexion. He could see his bed through the curtains on the other side of the glass, and he let a small sound of despair strangle itself from his throat.

He was trapped outside, and the only other way in was through the front of the palace.

Which, much to his agony, was on the other side of the building. And this building, as elaborate as it was, easily spanned a mile from one side to the other. He would never be able to outrun the Akatsuki men, and no one would be able to hear him from this point.

Gaara blamed himself for adamantly refusing the guards who had offered to stand out on his balcony. Even more so he hated himself for requesting the balcony to be built in the first place.

But he'd needed to get away, to get outside the palace when he couldn't sleep.

Because staying inside, locked up like a canary, drove him absolutely insane.

Time was ticking, the clock running down.

He heard a flutter behind him, and his heart stopped.

Time had just run out.

Whirling, sand coming up to sheild himself and lash out at the same time, Gaara felt the sand connect with something solid, and much to absolute disbelief, the world exploded all around him.

The balcony doors shattered under his weight, and Gaara found himself rolling across his bedroom floor. His head hit the metal feet on the bed, and his vision spun.

What the hell had caused that?

He staggered to his feet, casting around his room with panicked eyes. Sand covered the floor, fluttered across his bedsheets, and settled on the desk to his left. One of the balcony doors lay on it's side in the floor, the other hanging on by only one hinge. He stared wide-eyed, gulped, and prayed that help came fast.

A crunch outside his door made him freeze.

Gaara didn't wait to see what or who was there. He knew, no matter how strong he was, that he couldn't win. And even though it crushed his pride to ask for it, he knew he needed help.

He needed Kankuro and Temari, of that he was certain.

So he darted for the door, nearly tripping over a shard of wall plaster, and then thought better of it.

He couldn't have Akatsuki running around the palace hallways after all.

So what to do?

At first, the answer was obvious. Go out and face them himself, sacrifice his own well being to save his people. But at the same time, wouldn't that hurt them as well? A twinge of hurt nibbled at his heart, and all his old fears resurfaced.

His village didn't need him. Nor did they want him. The council had more reign over Sunagakure than he did, anyway!

He was afraid, yes, but he knew that this was for the best. This would be his final act as Kazekage. He would save his village at his own expense, and maybe, just maybe, they would honor him a bit when they realized his heart no longer beat.

Quickly, wondering just why the men hadn't appeared yet, Gaara swung his arm out and smoothed the sand on the floor. With shaking fingers he wrote in large letters his final words. He worked quickly, keeping it short and to the point, and then stood away, careful not to disturb the sand.

A pane of glass snapped behind him, and Uchiha appeared before him, his face as calm as it had ever been. His hair, however, had sand interwoven in it's ebony strands, and when the man spoke, clipped and angry, Gaara fought not to run.

"You're coming with us right now. Come here."

And Gaara did. He held his head high, looking for all the world the fading Lord he was, and then stopped at the mans side just as the blue one appeared on the balcony. He, unlike the glass-like Uchiha, was panting quite heavily. His fingers were also itching deftly at what could only be gills, and he let out a groan as a stream of sand trickled down his cheek.

"Little bastard clogged me up. Lucky he's so important, or I'd beat him within an inch of his life and then eat him."

"Calm yourself." The Uchiha said as he pulled Gaara to him. His fist was harsh on him, and to his disdain, the man squeezed harder. Knees trembling, Gaara let out a gasp of pain as the man broke his wrist. And, as he feared, it had been to the man as easy as snapping a twig.

"He shouldn't be too much trouble now." He said shortly as he pushed the trembling red head towards the blue man. Gaara, as weak as he was becoming, almost fell to his knees as the towering figure before him clapped a hand on his shoulder. The strength he felt in those palms was more than he had ever felt before, and Gaara began to wonder if this decision had been wise.

He had no clue as to what he was in for, after all.

The ebony haired man strode from the room and onto the balcony, calm and collected as could be. Gaara was steered out of the room as well, but as he stepped into the sun, he nearly dashed back to the safety of his bedroom.

Perched on the rail was another sightless bird.

This one, however, was ten times larger.

Gaara whimpered when it chirped at him.

"Deidara's here after all, huh? I thought those were his birds I saw earlier."

The blue skinned man made a noise of disapproval, but the Uchiha was actually nodding towards the bird.

"I think we should give the Kazekage to him."

"What? Why?"

"Because it would be much quicker, and we could get on with our next target today if we did so."

"Admit it. You just want to go drink in that tea house we passed."

The ebony haired man hummed deep in his throat.

And then another, stranger sound appeared at Gaara's side. He turned his head slowly, not sure what to expect, and came eye to eye with a clear, cerulean optic.

The arrival of this man surprised him so much that he bumped heavily against the blue skinned man, who growled at him. Or, at least, Gaara thought he was growling at him.

"Damn blondie. Always appearing where you're not wanted, aren't you? Now I've gotta spend another night in this damned hot village."

Gaara watched as said blond regarded the towering man with a thoughtful eye. He scoffed, waved off the villain, and then turned his gaze back to Gaara.

Leer was more like it. Gaara swore the mans pupils dilate quicker than a pouncing cat, and he gulped when the man grinned maniacally at him.

"Give him to me." He said in a voice that was rich and menacing, yet playful at the same time. It spoke of a quick temper, but also of a good-humored individual.

Gaara didn't like him very much at all.

But the hand on his shoulder was shoving him away and into the arms of this cerulean eyed man, who Gaara decided to name Deidara. That's what the Uchiha had called him after all.

The scent of clay and earth invaded his nose, and Gaara felt himself being pulled up into strong, corded arms. Deidara held his arms down and lifted, bringing them eye to eye. Gaara held very still, tried not to shiver, and briefly considered spitting in this criminals face.

But he remembered the rules of dealing with, as he classified this one, maniacs, that you should remain calm. So even as the blonds tongue ran over his bottom lip in a gesture of hunger Gaara remained still, his own dry lip trembling.

Deidara laughed.

"I like this one, un. Much prettier than the last one we caught. Perhaps, before we get back to Headquarters, I'll give him the good old Akatsuki initiation."

"You're to take him straight to Leader, Deidara. If I find you've done something otherwise, I'll ask Sasori to kindly gut you."

"He wouldn't listen to you." Deidara grumbled, but he put Gaara back on his feet, leading him over to the bird. "We'll go then, and I'll send a bird when we arrive." He paused, kneading his fingers on Gaaras shoulders, then said, "Why are you leaving him to me anyway? I thought you'd be a little more angry with me for interrupting your mission." He sounded a bit disappointed, Gaara noticed.

"We have things that need tending to." The Uchiha said, and with that he stepped across the balcony and over the railing, quickly descending for the ground and the village beyond. Gaara prayed he wouldn't harm anyone while he was there.

The blue haired man grunted a noise of goodbye, and he too disappeared over the rail, leaving Gaara and his single captor alone.

Deidara grinned down at him.

"Guess we'd better book it then. If we want to have a little free time." With a wink he picked Gaara up and leaped atop the bird, settling cross-legged with the red head in his lap.

"I can sit on my own, thank you." Gaara growled. He was mad at being treated as such, and for the first time, the thought that he may be able to get away from this single man occurred to him. Deidara wrapped his arms tight around his waist, squeezing until his bones began to creak under pressure. Gaara scrabbled at his hands, groaning, as the blond said, "I know. But I like it better this way. And, just a warning... don't try to escape. I'm a lot crazier than you think. I won't be afraid to discipline you should you decide to try anything funny." He growled into Gaara's neck to emphasize his point, bit down on the soft flesh to carry it further, and the red head went limp. Deidara hummed in approval.

And, with a brisk whistle from the man, the bird shuddered beneath them, it's wings spreading to it's full span. Gaara watched in horrified fascination as the bird rose to full height, flapped, and then hopped from the railing.

His heart leaped into his throat.


Formatting looks a bit messed up to me. I'll fix it later when it's not two 'o clock in the morning. Who's enjoying the story, hmm? -Smiles-

Reivews Are Love!~