God, it's been awhile.
A big-big-big thank you to each and every one of you who dropped a review - special shout out to seriouslyme who made me remember this document.
Love you all, lovelies.
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Naruto's tree house had become the de facto hangout when they were children, and this fact hadn't changed into their high school years. Naruto was crafty with his hands; he'd managed to expand the original tiny hut into something that was, well, kind of… cool. Sometime around seventh grade he'd schlepped up an old couch; that same year he'd managed to wire an old TV. The cable didn't work, but the DVD player did, which was what really mattered. Used books sat on a secondhand wooden bookshelf
Sasuke is presently laying on the couch, playing with the loose threads. Naruto is pacing, making the small space seem cramped.
"Dude, calm down. You're makin' me nervous."
Naruto whirls to face Sasuke. "I'm making you nervous?!"
Sasuke looks at him, then his gaze shifts ever-so-lazily. "Yeah. You're such a spaz. Calm yourself."
"Except we're fucked, if you haven't noticed – Sakura's gonna hate me…"
Like Sakura would ever hate him. Sasuke sits up. "Tch. You're an idiot. A paranoid idiot."
"Shut up," Naruto snaps, and resumes pacing.
It was funny, Sasuke reflected, how a smashed autographed CD could seem like the end of the world to a fourteen-year-old.
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Sakura can feel her world crumbling around her as she walks into the hospital. She trails behind Kisame, who at least seems to pretend t know what he's doing.
Her hands are shaking as she hands Itachi the duffel bag of clothes. They're in the hallway just outside the room. Sasuke's ear had been stitched and he was being evaluated by the psychologist and social worker.
Itachi accepts the bag. "Thank you," he says. Sakura looks at him, really looks at him; Itachi seems old, much older than twenty-two. His face is drawn and his eyes are tired and his shirt is specked with bloodstains. Sakura swallows thickly. Sasuke's blood.
Itachi sighs. "Sasuke will be kept for observation at a clinic. Hebi, over in Suna. Four days, not three. Visitors are family-only; I'd mark you as a cousin, but on top of that its over-eighteen."
Sakura nods grimly. She feels an odd combination of anxiety and relief. "Can he write?"
"Most likely." Itachi sighs again. "Did you…did you have any idea about this?" His voice strained on the last word.
Something inside Sakura twinges with sympathy. "No," she tells him. "No, I…he sent me a text. 'I'm sorry' …and 'thank you.' I tried calling him but…by the time I got down to the house…"
Itachi shuts his eyes. "Okay. Okay." When he opens them again, Sakura can't read his expression. "I'll call you."
Sakura takes this as her cue to leave. "Okay. Thank you."
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Four hours.
Sasuke has been waiting for four goddamn hours.
He doesn't understand why it's taking this long, much less why Itachi is even putting forth the effort at this point. But somehow, some way, between insurance details and medical records and waiting to see if there's even room for him, it's taking four goddamn hours.
Needless to say, Sasuke is not pleased.
When Itachi steps out of the room to find out what the hell had been taking so long, he leaves his phone. Sasuke capitalizes on this.
He calls Sakura.
As he waits for her to pick up, he idly wonders when he became the puppy in this relationship.
Probably around the same time you thought about shooting yourself.
"Hey," she answers. Sasuke can't help but think that her chipper tone is forced.
He sits there for a minute, wondering why he called her, wondering what to say, when she says, "Itachi? What's up?"
It's that that jolts Sasuke back to earth. "Sakura. It's Sasuke."
"Sasuke! What are you –"
"They're trying to schlep me to a clinic. I'm at the fucking hospital and I'm bored as shit. Can you come down?"
"…Sasuke…"
"Please?" he can't help it; his voice cracks. "I – I want to see you. Before I go."
She's quite for a long while; finally, she consents.
As Sasuke hangs up, he feels guilty; he hadn't meant to manipulate her. He just wanted…
Funny. He's not sure what he wants anymore.
Twenty minutes later Sakura walks in, looking hesitant and out of place.
Really, Sasuke thinks, she's beautiful.
He doesn't say that.
Sasuke can feel the unasked questions hanging in the air, all the things she wants to say, all the things she can't say, and instead he says, "I'm sorry."
She looks at him, really looks at him, and Sasuke has to avert his eyes. He looks down at his hand, picks at the loose skin around his thumb.
Sasuke feels the bed shift when Sakura sits on it. "Sasuke…" she reached forward and grasps his hand, squeezes. "How – are you – oh god. Sasuke...why?"
Sasuke can't bring himself to look at her, so he stares at their hands. His are much larger than hers, rougher, the nails bitten down to the quick; she has half-chipped purple nail polish on and smooth, smooth palms.
"It should've been me," he murmurs. "I – god, I hate myself. I just want to die, but I manage to fuck that up too."
Her hand comes up, a finger brushing over the stitches in his ear. He hates himself for relishing the touch. "Maybe that was a good thing."
She doesn't argue, doesn't yell; Sasuke can practically feel her choosing her words as she shifts closer and continues. "Maybe…this can help you. Maybe, everything…you… God. I'm worried, Sasuke. I don't like seeing you like this."
Sasuke gives a derisive snort. "You hate me."
And why wouldn't she? He's a bastard, worrying her and killing Naruto and his brother, god, Itachi was such a dick, a fucking mother hen, not able to just fucking leave him alone-
Sakura sighs then, softly, sadly. "Oh…look at me, Sasuke. I don't hate you. I don't."
And sitting there, looking her in the eyes, he believes it.
He hates himself for that belief.
Sasuke knows what he's about to do even before he speaks. Push her away like the fucktard you are. "So, what? You love me, then?"
She sits there, caught, measuring her thoughts and words and unsure and scared. He's doing it again, simult She's biting her lip. Sasuke rips into her, voice dripping with venom. "Tell me, Sakura. It's a yes or no question. Do you?"
"You're my best friend, Sasuke. Of course I –"
Wrong. Move.
"'You're my best friend, Sasuke,"' He mimics nastily. He packs all his anger, frustration, all his self-loathing into his next words. "You know what I think? I think you're just another dumb bitch, a fucking coward, a worthless piece of shit-"
It takes him a moment to register the sharp smack! against his cheek. Sakura glares at him through teary eyes, hands still raised from when she slapped him.
"You need to get it together, Sasuke. Do you see? Do you see what you're doing? To me? To yourself?!" She sniffs and shakes her head. "I – I have to go. See you."
And Sasuke sits there, hands clenched into fists and tears spilling on the hospital sheets. He can sense the door open and feels Itachi staring at him; he doesn't acknowledge his brother's presence. He knows, he knows that Itachi knew, that Itachi waited just outside the room, that Itachi had seen Sakura as she left.
His brother wasn't an idiot. He could put two and two together.
But Itachi doesn't say anything, just sits down and waits for the doctors to come in.
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Ino has all of a ten-minute warning before Sakura is at her house, two seconds away from crying and pissed off. Ino sweeps the her friend up to her room, turns on a CD for background noise, and listens. Sakura had been spending more time at her house than not recently; her parents' divorce wasn't a pretty one, made all the uglier by her father.
And now this…
Ino is worried – genuinely worried – about Sakura.
"It's just," Sakura says through her sobs, "I just – I hate him. So much. I – I can't be in the same room with him for ten minutes without – without him going off or- just – like ugh.
Ino doesn't have to ask which 'he' Sakura was referring to. The situation was – to say the least – complicated. Sakura's father was abusive – not chronically, but- fucking CHRIST. I want him dead, goddammit!"
Ino likes to think she understands how relationships work. Sometimes, she knows, fights between couples can get physical – a shove or two, maybe a grab here or there. She's uncomfortable with it, and she doesn't think it's right, but she also knows that 'abusive' is a strong word and a serious accusation.
But she also knows what a first-class dick Sakura's dad is.
The long and short of it was: Sakura's dad has been violent to her mom – both now and in the past. It's been getting worse recently, bad enough that Sakura's mom has filed for protection from abuse and has gotten her father evicted.
Problem: Sakura's dad has never laid a hand on Sakura, so he could still fight for custody.
Another problem: Sakura's dad didn't have to officially move out till August first.
The root of all the problems: Sakura's dad was an alcoholic – and point-blank refused to go to AA.
And on top of that, Sasuke...and Naruto.
Ino is not an insecure person; she knows that she and Sakura are best friends. She is well aware that you can have more than one best friend.
But she also knows that Sakura's relationship with those two boys is another dimension entirely. She knows that their bonds run deeper than 'friends' or even 'best friends.' There is something, she thinks, integral to the three of them, a sort of equilibrium that they all share.
And now that the equilibrium is thrown off…
Ino feels helpless. Her best friend's life is on the brink of falling apart and there's next to nothing she can do.
"You wanna sleep here tonight?" Ino offers.
Sakura bites her lip. "You don't mind?"
Ino snorts. "Do I ever mind, forehead?" But her words are gentle.
Sakura offers a teary smile. "Thanks, Ino."
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Sakura doesn't tell Ino about Sasuke – his suicide attempt or what happened at the hospital.
Those wounds are still too raw.
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The doctor, psychologist, and social worker had all evaluated Sasuke on his own before Itachi was called in the room. He was told by the doctor that his ear would heal but he was otherwise unharmed; he was told by the social worker that he was a not-shitty guardian and that Sasuke needed help.
Well, Itachi thought, no shit.
The psychologist – a thirty-something man named Ibiki Morino – doesn't beat around the bush. "I'm conflicted about what to do with Sasuke."
Sasuke sits in the corner, half-sulking, half-scowling, but mostly zombie-like. Itachi inclines his head. "I'm afraid I don't understand."
"In the wake of certain circumstances – loss of a loved one, being fired from a job, a divorce – a person can exhibit symptoms – severe symptoms - of depression or anxiety. In these circumstances, I don't like to prescribe medication because it isn't necessarily needed. Pills won't heal grief; only time can. However…" Ibiki taps his pen on the clipboard in front of him. "…your situation is a bit different." He glances at Sasuke, then looks back at Itachi. "A suicide attempt is another matter entirely."
Itachi lets out a breath. "Is Sasuke depressed?"
Ibiki glancs at Sasuke. "No. His symptoms are that of survivor's guilt."
"Then what do you propose we do?"
"Ultimately it's up to you. I could prescribe you anxiety medication –it would calm Sasuke's nerves and hopefully prevent the thought process leading up to suicide from happening - but, as I said, I'd rather use that as a last resort. The other option is staying a clinic. There he will have constant supervision and he can be better diagnosed. Should his symptoms continue, we can take other measures."
Itachi sits in his seat and stares at his hands. "I had him scheduled to see a therapist for Tuesday."
Sasuke looks up at that; Itachi ignores him and continues, "The clinic. What exactly does that entail?"
"Sasuke would stay at the clinic anywhere from three days to two weeks – depending on insurance and my prognosis. There he would receive one-on-one and group therapy and further observation and diagnosis. Also, he would be treated for his alcoholism."
In the corner of the room, Sasuke's clenches his fists. Itachi feels a twinge in his gut, but that was his next point. "About that. Do you think that played a part in the…attempt?"
Ibiki hesitates. "That's hard to say. Nonetheless, Sasuke has expressed interest in treatment and it would be beneficial for him to detox."
Itachi nods. "Right. Okay. Sasuke?"
Sasuke looks up. His eyes are dull and the look on his face is nasty. "I'm not going to a fucking therapist. Way to tell me."
"I was going to tell you today…" Itachi trails off and tries not to become angry. He's trying, Christ, he's trying – Christ, Sasuke tried to kill himself.
Oh God. Oh God…
Itachi feels on the brink of a breakdown – something he hasn't felt in over six years.
"What about staying at the clinic, Sasuke?" Ibiki asks in an attempt to smooth things over.
Sasuke's expression softens ever-so-slightly. He doesn't say anything.
When it is all said and done, Sasuke winds up being admitted to Hebi – the clinic – for four days. After that he'd go to partial – essentially get babysat by psychologists for the majority of the day – for a week and a half. Sasuke rides over to the clinic in an ambulance – standard procedure – and Itachi drives in his car, mulling the doctor's words over in his head.
Between you and me, Ibiki said, once they'd been alone, I think Sasuke will stabilize once his friend – Naruto, was it? – recovers. Right now, though, he's still a viable threat to himself. You're positive he doesn't have a history with self-harm?
Sasuke, it seemed had been less-than-forthcoming with information. Itachi told him no, which was the truth. Sasuke internalized things, but he'd never been unstable. Not before…
And now he's just another orphan fuck-up.
Itachi swallows around the lump in his throat. No. Four days, he tells himself. And then partial. Sasuke will be fine.
He spends more time than he should wiping tears from his eyes in the clinic parking lot.
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This chapter was a bit different, inasmuch as it was more 'action' oriented than character oriented.
Hope you don't mind.
More to come - perhaps a midquel about Sasuke's days in rehab? hmm...
And I don't claim to be a doctor; any and all medical information is just stuff I've heard from health teachers, doctors, and wiki.
Thoughts?