Disclaimer: No, Of course I don't own Naruto, Gaara or Yashamaru, I only own my own character, Ren.

I drifted in and out of unconsciousness again, and the disturbing sensation of dark and light, in and out, not really knowing up or down was getting to me. I was actually getting sort of dizzy, but maybe that was the fever. I don't remember much of anything for a while, but I was able to drift to the surface long enough to see an unfamiliar face hovering over mine next to Gaara's. He had kind eyes and shaggy blondish hair.

I opened my eyes a few times and was disconcerted to find the sky moving. The next time my eyelids were able to peel apart, the ceiling was definitely not my own. There were no cracks, it appeared to actually have been painted, and it seemed quite structurally sound.

I was barely aware, not really sure of my surroundings or who inhabited them, but I did know that someone was touching my back, and it felt as if they had poured acid over me. I didn't have enough energy to properly express myself the way I wanted to, but I managed a rather pathetic whine and some whimpering.

I felt someone touch my hand, comfortingly but hesitant, and my fuzzy mind was trying to tell me that there was a reason why the skin touching my hand was so grainy feeling. I cracked my eyes open, the room swimming a little as if I was surrounded by heat waves. I was only just able to make out through my blurry vision the color of red and a pair of light green eyes that seemed to glow in the dim room. I drifted back into the darkness, but wanted to stay with those eyes.

*switch to Gaara POV*

Gaara watched his uncle as he cleaned Ren's many wounds with clean cloths and alcohol. It was fascinating, the way the blood seemed to melt off her back, exposing the ragged raw skin underneath. His new friend's back was a mess of shredded skin; all the glass had been removed thanks to Gaara, but it was still oozing blood from all the puncture wounds and sliced flesh. Now it looked angry and swollen. Yashamaru explained to Gaara what he was doing as he was doing it, seeing Gaara's interest, and explained that Ren probably had an infection, which would be the reason for the swollen redness and fever.

The wounds were particularly bad on her shoulders, where the boys had used her as a footstool, grinding her more harshly into the glass strewn ground. Gaara felt a pain squeeze his heart as he looked at the damage done to his new friend, the first person (outside of Yashamaru) that had offered him kindness and acceptance. He clutched his chest and whimpered, wondering at the strange ache in his chest.

"What's wrong Gaara?" his uncle inquired kindly, concerned by the young boy's pained expression.

"It hurts … Why does my chest hurt when I look at her blood? Normally I feel kind of strange, excited, when I see blood, but this feels different." Gaara whined, his voice wobbly and layered with innocent confusion.

Yashamaru blinked, surprised by what his nephew was telling him. Then he smiled kindly, understanding why Gaara was feeling pain, "You care about her Gaara, that's why you feel pain. It hurts when someone you love is hurt. It's like you feel their pain."

Gaara gazed wide eyed at his uncle, not completely understanding, but knowing that he did care a great deal for his new friend. The feelings he was experiencing were very similar to the ones he felt for Yashamaru, perhaps that meant that what he was feeling was love? And what his uncle said about feeling a loved one's pain … Gaara had never been able to experience physical pain, so he didn't know what it felt like. But this nearly unbearable sensation in his chest matched Yashamaru's description of pain. Perhaps he truly was feeling a shadow of his friend's pain. He hoped so, even though pain was something you were not supposed to want, Gaara desperately wanted to know what his new loved one was feeling, to more fully understand what she was experiencing.

When she whimpered he felt a strange compulsion to touch her hand, to offer some sort of comfort. As always the sand coated his skin, responding to his nervousness when it came to touching others. She opened her eyes, and Gaara could tell that they were unfocused, that she probably couldn't see him very well, if at all. But her eyes gazed at him blearily, and her face relaxed just a little, making his heart flutter in his chest and causing him to hope that he had helped her in some small way.

Her eyes rolled back into her head and she passed out again. Gaara bit his lip and looked to Yashamaru for reassurance that she was okay. Yashamaru smiled at him, "She's going to be okay Gaara."

Gaara relaxed a little, looking back to her now slack face. Struck with a new determination he walked around the table to his uncle, getting his attention. "I want to help. Show me how to help her." He demanded, he voice wavering only just a little, betraying his nervousness.

His uncle raised his eyebrows, surprised, and nodded, glad that Gaara wanted to do something to care for someone else. He was encouraged by the fact that his young nephew had found someone he cared enough for that he wished to help them. He patiently showed Gaara how to clean the wounds, put salve on them, and then bandage her torso. Gaara assisted, holding the rags and the pot of salve, and he handed his uncle things when asked. He helped wrap the bandages around her, making sure that they were flat and neatly overlapped, just like he was shown. Afterwards, his chest felt warm and no longer pained. He had been able to care for her again, allowed to show someone kindness.

He helped his uncle carry her into his bedroom by levitating her with his sand again. The young jinchuriki's bed was never used anyways, so it worked just fine.

*switch to Ren POV*

I slowly surfaced from what felt like a deep ocean of nonsense, and I was quite pleased to be doing so. I first became aware of the fact that I was extremely comfortable, warm and snuggly. I was lying on something soft, my back cushioned in a way I had never felt before, and I must have been under some sort of nice blanket, because I felt as if I was in a cozy cocoon, and for a second I considered slipping back into sleep it felt so good. But I had been asleep for far too long and I could feel it in the way my body felt stiff and my eyes crusty.

I groaned a little as I stretched out my creaky muscles, feeling as if I had woken up from a month long slumber. Rubbing the profuse sleepy crust out of my eyes, I sat up, feeling a thick fuzzy blanket fall off, and immediately was made aware of the fact that my upper body was clothed in nothing but bandages that mummified my entire upper torso. It was also impossible to ignore what felt like my back harshly cussing me out. Loudly. And in several different languages.

I hissed, belatedly realizing that I shouldn't have sat up quite so abruptly. Well, it had felt slow enough, but my back said it was abrupt. I was distracted from the throbbing in my back by the sounds of someone else in the room, the sound of a chair squeaking under someone standing up from it and a small gasp. I looked over to see Gaara nearby, hugging a large fluffy teddy bear and looking somewhat unsure and anxious, but also happy to see me awake.

After a few awkward seconds he scooted over to my bedside, looking me over carefully for injuries, his eyes flicking this way and that over my bandaged torso. "Are you okay? Does it hurt?" he asked, his voice wobbling just a tad, which gave away just how worried he had been.

"I'm okay." I smiled, and then winced as a slight spasm took over the muscles in my back. "It does still hurt a little though." I hurried to add that it didn't hurt nearly as much as before when Gaara's face crumpled.

My new friend rubbed his eyes with his teddy bear, then paused. He pulled back and looked at the toy I had seen him with many times. He clambered onto the bed awkwardly, still holding the fuzzy ball of fur. Once he was close enough he hesitantly held the bear out to me, offering his favorite toy. His smile was tentative and wobbled, his eyes fearful that I would refuse his precious gift. "Here. I'm going to go get my uncle, he asked me to tell him when you woke up. But Bear will keep you company, if that's okay?"

I smiled, touched by his kind gesture. I carefully reached forwards and gently grasped the bear's proffered paws, lifted it up in the air and pulled it into my arms. I hugged his bear close, comforted by its plush nature and the scent of Gaara coming off it. "Thank you Gaara, he'll take good care of me." I smiled, happy at the way Gaara's eyes lost their tense edge and his shoulders relaxed.

He flushed with pleasure, his eyes sparkling in a way I had never seen before. For once Gaara looked like the little kid that he was, instead of world weary and afraid. He smiled timidly, hesitating a moment, obviously wanting to stay, before he sighed and slowly scooted off the bed. He trotted to the door, paused there for a moment, looking back to make sure I was alright and then went to find his uncle.

After a few minutes, a man walked into the room, led by Gaara, and I assumed that he was Gaara's uncle. He smiled kindly and approached the bed, "How are you feeling? Gaara told me some of what happened. You were badly injured. My name is Yashamaru, I'm Gaara's uncle."

After introducing himself, he walked over to the bed and asked me to sit up further so that he could look at my wounds to make sure they were healing properly. I did as he asked, unused to being taken care of like this, and not sure that I liked it. But in a way it was kind of nice.

He very gently unwrapped the bandages from around my torso, much to my embarrassment. Gaara was still in the room, watching his uncle carefully, so I turned my front away from him, hugging his bear to my chest to give myself some modesty. Not that there was anything to see, I was still very much a child after all, but I was still quite shy. Gaara's uncle, Yashamaru, told me that my wounds were healing well, but needed another dressing

To my surprise Gaara interrupted him, "Can I do it this time?" his voice was tremulous but eager.

Yashamaru grinned and laughed gently, "Of course Gaara, if it's okay with Ren" He turned to look questioningly at me to make sure that I didn't mind. I nodded my head that it was okay, so Yashamaru handed the supplies over to Gaara. He seemed to leave the room, although he was probably unobtrusively supervising from somewhere out of sight.

Gaara approached the bed hesitantly, and clambered up to join me. He raised his nonexistent eyebrows, making sure that I was still okay with him helping me. I smiled reassuringly and turned my back to him further, to give him greater access. He very carefully rubbed the salve on my wounds. It didn't hurt nearly as much this time, but every so often he would poke me in a more sensitive spot and I would flinch. Every time this happened I felt the bed shift and knew that he had flinched with me.

After thoroughly soaking my raw back in ointment, he took the roll of bandages and started to wrap my torso again. It turned out to be a tad awkward, I had to place his bear on the bed and help make sure that the linin strips lay flat and neat against my skin in the front while he did the same for my back.

Afterwards he asked, "Was that okay? Did I hurt you too much?"

I turned towards him fully, no longer worried about being uncovered because of the bandages now wrapping my torso. "You did great Gaara, thank you so much." I smiled, realizing that I was truly happy that he had taken care of me, much preferring the touch of my new friend to a stranger.

"Wasn't there another wound?" Gaara asked suddenly, startling me out of my contemplation.

"Oh right … um …" I was more hesitant to let him dress this wound. It was humiliating, to have been marked the way that I had. But I could feel that it still hurt quite a bit, and knew that the dressing probably needed changing. "I guess so …" I reached down to the bandage stuck to my hip and carefully tugged at the edges, gently removing it from the much deeper cut. I winced when it stuck to the scab.

Gaara leaned forwards, watching me anxiously. I was finally able to remove the bandage after some finagling and he leaned in further, squinting a little at the wound. "What is that?" He questioned, trying to get a good look at it. I winced and resisted the urge to cover it. I swallowed thickly and lay back on the bed, so that he could get a clear view of the wound with the light.

For a moment I nearly forgot about everything because of the heavenly sensation of being in a bed for once in my life. My eyelids fluttered, immediately wanting to close and send me back into blissful sleep.

I was immediately reminded of the current situation however, when Gaara skootched up close to look at the kanji on my hip. He was bent nearly double, his knees resting right next to my side opposite to the injured hip, his upper body leaning over my stomach so he could squint at the crusty mark. He looked angry and confused. "What did this? Why do you have this written on your hip?"

I swallowed hard, finding it difficult to talk about. "It was that boy, he said that I needed to remember that I wasn't wanted, that I would only ever be hated." I sniffled, a few tears escaping, still utterly humiliated by this turn of events. He had said I was trash, and this scar certainly made me feel like it.

Gaara scowled, "That's stupid. I don't hate you." He crossed his arms over his skinny chest, huffing with indignation. I smiled, he turned out to be surprisingly cute when he was offended.

"I'm glad you don't hate me." I responded softly, blushing a little, feeling uncustomarily shy. He ducked his head, flushing as well. The awkward silence was broken by a wide, squeaky yawn that burst forth from my mouth, surprising us both. I giggled a little, finding it funny when Gaara jumped with surprise.

He giggled nervously, a little embarrassed by being scared by my yawn. He quickly, but still very gently, put ointment on the cut he had been glaring at, and bandaged it up again. His delicate, feather light touch on the ticklish skin of my hip had me snickering sleepily. He blinked owlishly at me, not entirely sure why I was laughing, unfamiliar with the whole concept of "tickle."

I felt my eyes drooping, the comfortable bed finally winning the tug of war and egging me towards sleep. Gaara blinked again and hopped off the bed. He paused and then turned back to awkwardly tug on the covers until they covered me. I was indescribably touched by his thoughtfulness and stared up at him with gratitude, wondering how I had ever found such a wonderful friend. After a seconds deliberation he picked up his teddy bear from the foot of the bed and tucked it in with me under the covers.

I smiled at him sleepily and hugged his bear close, my vision drifting into black as I shut my eyes. I vaguely heard him sit in the chair against the wall, the one he had been in when I had woken up earlier, and then I was sinking fully into sleep.

My peaceful slumber was rudely interrupted soon after I shut my eyes. I had barely fallen asleep when a frighteningly familiar voice rang through my head, sneering at me, telling me I was trash. I could smell blood, taste blood, felt it coating my skin in thick, sticky ribbons, mixing with sweat and tears. I felt glass bite into my shoulders, shredding my flesh. Pain, hot and bright flashed behind my closed eyelids, memories turned nightmare. I couldn't breathe. I jerked back awake with a surge of terror. I gasped, sitting back up in bed abruptly and clutching the covers to myself as a shield against the night terror, whimpering, silent hot tears sliding down my face unnoticed.

I vaguely registered a terrified gasp coming from somewhere in the room, my heart pounding too loudly in my ears for me to easily hear anything else. So I was momentarily startled by the raspy high pitched voice full of concern and bordering on panic. "What's wrong?" Gaara asked breathlessly, his voice coming from right by my bed. I realized that he must have darted to my side as soon as he heard the pathetic noises coming from my throat. From his concerned expression I could tell that he was worried that I was in pain.

"Gaara," I whimpered, immediately causing him to leap forward and join me on the bed again. "I'm afraid," I answered his big questioning eyes, "I keep having nightmares about those boys, I'm afraid they're going to come back to get me," I cried, knowing that it was impossible but still unable to quench my fear.

His non-eyebrows scrunched down hard over his eyes in a furious scowl, "They won't. I killed them. And if anyone else tries to hurt you I'll kill them too." For some odd reason the deadly aura that suddenly surrounded his little form actually comforted instead of terrifying me as it probably should have.

I sniffled and wiped my eyes, "That's right … You protected me Gaara." Impulsively I reached out, latching onto his sleeve. He jerked, his frown immediately transforming into a shocked expression.

"… will you stay please and protect me from my nightmares." I tugged at his sleeve, begging for him to stay at my side. I was so unused to having companionship, but now that I had it I was utterly unwilling to let it go.

Gaara's eyes were wide, almost frightened, and shocked, but also glimmered with something like happiness. He blushed a little, and looked almost as if he would climb off the bed. But slowly he crawled up next to me, skootching under the covers when I lifted them up for him.

He lay down on his side facing me, and pulled his teddy bear to him, hugging it tightly, and whispered "I can't sleep. If I do, bad things happen." It was almost as if he was apologizing for not being able to join me in sleeping and also as if he was warning me.

"I'm so sorry." I murmured, reaching out to take his hand. The sand got in the way for a moment, coating his hand and making it feel gritty, but after a minute it subsided and let me feel the skin of his palm against mine.

I smiled at him and drifted off to sleep, one free of terror.

End Chapter 4

Slightly longer chapter this time! Comments are very welcome.