A/N: Isn't it crazy how fast this is being updated? Forgive me again for not having Murderous Love out. I'm working on it! I promise! In other things, here is the second chapter. Does it make sense? To me, yes! Please keep on reading, as I promise that it will get better if it is going slowly right now. This chapter features Lee! It's odd, his dreams. (And he isn't nearly as enthusiastic as he should be. It's three in morning though!) Please review and enjoy!

A clock "tsks" mutely inside the darkened room, hushed by the sound of rain on the window. Snoring softly, a boy is draped over a desk littered with papers. A pencil rests in his left hand, and his face is pressed against the spiral of a notebook. Massive brows scrunch together as he dreams.

Lee dreams about squirrels.

He has never known why, but every dream he has ever had features at least one squirrel. This time, the scene is choppy and child-like, a lush park in the middle of a desert. Lee is on the swings kicking higher and higher. He leans back with his eyes closed, enjoying the tickling vertigo it induces. Opening his eyes, he spots an oddly colored squirrel watching him from the edge of the park. Lee twists around in his swing, trying to get a better look at the animal. He hops out of the swing and trips over to where the squirrel sits, still watching. Upon closer inspection, the fur appears rusty, almost red.

The creature is fiddling with it's paws, washing it's fur. It twitches, as though it were nervous. Lee kneels down slowly, not wanting to frighten the little thing away. He murmurs words of nothing to it, trying to soothe the animal even though it is obviously not afraid. Extending a hand towards the squirrel, Lee smiles warmly. "Come here." He says. Then the squirrel stops moving. It's frozen, eyes locked and staring up at the hand.

Without warning, it launches itself straight at Lee. Lee tries to move, but is paralyzed. A severe pain pulls at his heart. His eyes widen as he sees the animal ripping through his chest, shredding the skin over his heart. It crawls into the hole, burrowing itself inside his heart. It hurts, but Lee is unable to do anything but watch it happen. Slowly the skin regrows, sealing the squirrel inside. Now Lee can move, and he opens his mouth to scream-

And is startled awake by the sound of the doorbell. Lee's eyes are wide and open, but the dream is gone. He rubs his eyes with the back of his hand before glancing at the clock. It's almost three in the morning. He lifts himself up, and hurries down the stairs to the door. He wonders who would be at his house at three in the morning. Lee grabs the handle of the door and pulls it open. He has to blink at first, his eyes aren't used to the darkness outside before he is able to see who it is.

"Gaara?" He asks the soaked figure on his porch. The boy turns around, eyes wide and vulnerable.

Lee is confused but quickly recovers his manners. "Please, come inside. I will grab a towel, okay?" He leaves the door open, and runs to the bathroom to grab a towel. On his way back to the front room he flips on the lights. Gaara is standing just inside the door, dripping water all over the floor. He has his arms wrapped around his torso, shaking with chill.

"Here, give me your jacket." Lee takes the soaked cloth away from the redhead. He hands the towel to the other boy. "Hold on a moment okay? I will go get something dry for you to wear." Lee is curious as to why the strange boy is at his house so early, but doesn't try to ask. He knows eventually it will come up. He runs up the stairs again, digging through his dresser for a pair of pants that might fit the smaller boy. He comes up with a loose pair of grey sweats with a drawstring, and an oversized green shirt. Lee hopes it will be enough.

Lee makes his way back downstairs where Gaara stands, stripped down to his jeans and socks. Lee's eyes are caught by how pale the skin is, how flawless. Much different from his own. He hands Gaara the clothes, seeing how the teal eyes are focused on him. All this time, not a word has been uttered. Lee remembers that's how it always is. When he first met Gaara, it was throwing those thugs off him. He'd been given a breathy "thanks", and that was all.

But Lee has seen Gaara more often after that. It was odd.

And now he was at Lee's house at three in the morning. "Here you go Gaara. I know these are a little bit big, but they are dry. The bathroom is through there. I will put your clothes in the dryer." He is silently handed a wad of clothing, and given a nod as Gaara headed in the direction pointed to him. Lee moves to put away the clothes, and goes into the kitchen. He starts a pot of water on the stove.

He is glad his uncle isn't home. He ponders how the older man would have reacted. Probably very loudly, and with much Youthful Enthusiasm. A dry Gaara shuffles into the kitchen, one hand holding the sweats up. Lee offers Gaara a chair, and gets up to set out two cups. Sleep is nagging at the back of his mind, reminding him that there is school in only a few short hours. While Lee prepares the tea, he can feel eyes on his back. However, when he glances behind him, Gaara is looking only at the table before him.

As Lee sets the steaming cup in front of him he looks at the pale face. Gone is the vulnerability Lee saw when he first opened the door. In it's place is a mask, a blank look. With the lack of eye brows on his face, and the dark rings around his teal eyes, Gaara almost looks angry. Lee sits across from him, his own cup of tea in his hands. Gaara reaches forward with slightly shaking hands, curling his fingers around the cup.

A silence stretches out between them. Lee can't hardly stand it.

"Gaara, it is not as though I do not enjoy your company, for it is always nice to visit with friends, but it is very early in the morning. If it is not too intruding, might I ask what-" Lee is cut off when Gaara lifts his head to look at Lee. Gaara has stopped moving, and is just watching.

Oddly, Lee feels a sense of déjà vu. Almost expects the smaller boy to jump at him. The feeling fades as Gaara's quiet voice fills his ears. "My father told me to leave." There is nothing more out of him after that statement. Lee thinks there is more to the story, but Gaara is staring at his cup again. Lee continues to stare at the boy before him. Gaara is smaller than Lee, thinner. His skin is pale, like a cloud bathed in moonlight. But it's the red hair that catches all the attention. While it was wet, it fell down his face in bloody rivers. Now dry, it is a fire crackling to life. Lee is still waiting for Gaara to speak, patient and curious.

Finally Gaara spoke. His voice is even and deep, velvet.

"Can I stay here tonight...Lee?"