I do not own NARUTO

×愛×▬▬▬×愛×▬▬▬×愛×

Gaara sat on the northern walls, leaned back in a chair under the large awning that had been erected to better shade the camp. He sat with his elbow rested on the arm of his chair, his chin in his hand, and he slouched with boredom as he continued to scan the distance. It had been hours, and the cooler morning had given way to another afternoon heat wave under the sun. There were some clouds in the distance, wispy little things that hung high up in the atmosphere, not nearly enough to offer any shade. But even if they were bigger, with the wind as dead as it was, there was nothing to push those clouds over his way.

He sighed, for about the hundredth time since taking his seat, and wondered if his sister had planned on marooning him here for the remainder of the day. Surely, Sakura would be fine with Temari once she finished her duties at the offices, he could do as he pleased after that. Although it was nearing lunch and, since he hadn't even eaten breakfast, he was growing hungry. His conversation with his sister as she first arrived at the hospital earlier that morning was less than desirable, he still had a difficult time talking things out with people, and the topic at hand had left him without appetite. He was paying for that now. He felt his stomach turn in his gut, empty, and crying out for sustenance.

Standing from his seat, he stretched out his back and rolled his stiff shoulders before heading out of the tents. The sun was hot, unrelenting, and the afternoon heat was beginning to take its toll on all those caught under its glare. Gaara wandered to the edge of the wall, where he could look down and survey the city. Up here, to the naked eye, it wasn't much more than sandstone buildings and the little gaps between for streets. The people were small, indistinguishable, but he knew the city well enough to pick out the districts of his interest.

But, rather than in the city, something prickled in his attention behind him. Before he even fully registered the pull at his attention, the sand at his feet shifted. He turned, looking back out to the north, to the endless waves of sand that bordered the horizon. Everything still looked the same, but Gaara was a man of instinct, and he always trusted his gut. He made quick steps back to the tent, throwing open the flap and laying eyes on the first person to carry a headset.

"You," he addressed with a snap of his fingers, his gaze pointing sharply on the young man standing stiffly at attention. Gaara held out a hand rather expectedly. "Give me your radio."

The man nodded, not able to say much, and quickly detangled the wire from around his ear and handed them over. Gaara nodded once and stepped back outside, securing the receiver in his ear as he cleared the channel to speak.

"This is Gaara, I need a copy from someone in the north," he spoke into the small mic, his voice collected, though he felt a little urgent. The sand at his feet vibrated, stirred, and that made him anxious.

"This is Yumi," a crackly voice spoke back. "Roko and Tris are with me."

"Have you picked up any disturbances?"

A moment later the receiver in his ear crackled sharply and a different, deeper voice spoke to him. "It's Roko, nothing up north, sir. Should there be?"

"Keep your attention on the northwest, radio me with any suspicious activity."

There was a pause, a short second that felt much too long for Gaara. The bud in his ear clicked and Yumi spoke again. "Definition of suspicious?"

"In this drought, anything."

"Copy, we'll radio anything we find."

The receiver clicked and Gaara continued scanning the sands. He glanced back to the city, something irking in his gut, and he redialed the radio's frequency to Temari's. As captain, she was on a special frequency that could be dialed into by most all of the field radios.

"Temari, copy," he spoke into the mic. There was no response, and he looked back to the city, to where the offices were hidden behind the taller buildings between them. Had she not brought her radio? "Temari," he said again, this time with more force behind his voice. "It's Gaara, do you copy?"

Gaara cringed, feeling that beast in his head as it slithered back around to look to the desert. Something was out there, undetectable to his scouts, but not to him. Not to that demon. Giving up on the radio, he focused on sending his senses down to the sand so it could ripple out into the city. He closed his eyes, steadying his breathing as he sifted through all that the sand had to tell him. He could find his sister, he'd done it like this before, and check up on Sakura as well. Possibly even get Temari's attention.

Wait.

A pressure at the edge of his attention caught him, and he recognized it within a moment. It was Sakura, but she was not where he had expected her to be. She was in the market, moving fast, very fast. That was strange, what could have-

Blood.

A shiver ran up his spine, a quake of sickly chill that left him frigid to the bone, even in this heat. That thing purred in delight, the sound echoing through his mind, and his eyes snapped open, darting across the city as he ran up to the wall. Setting sights on the nearby market, he found it in disarray and followed the scattering crowd until-

"Miller!"

It was Sakura, he had barely picked out her voice from the distance but he knew it was her. He strained to see the streets, to see that flash of pink that so clearly stuck out amidst the desert, but he could see nothing. People scattered, yelled and cursed, and this only kicked up dust and sand, clouding the air and muddying his vision. He cursed, making way for the trail down the wall. He skidded down the sides, little rocks and showers of sand pouring over the steep sides in his wake, and moved as fast as he could to the ground.

She screamed then, a curdling cry that ripped through the air and carried pain and anguish with it. He followed the direction of the sound, something clenching tight in his chest as he listened, trying to catch just a glimpse of her.

He spied some movement ahead of him, something that stood out from the commotion in the streets. Dust flew into the air, throwing itself high above the heads of those wandering about, and that pressure came back, that fluttering and pulsing of life. It was Sakura, and everything about her energy clearly screamed panic. The trail was on the move, racing toward the gates, quickly closing the distance to where he planned to intercept it.

"Gaara!"

He reacted within a moment, leaping over the side of the last ledge down the city's outer walls, and when he hit the ground he vanished. The sand beneath him swallowed him up and, now traveling as one with the very ground, he careened over to the gate, feeling that familiar pressure and erratic pulse as Sakura moved closer.

Just a little closer, just a few more yards and he had his chance.

Sakura didn't see the way the sand at the gates whipped up in the air and swirled quickly before dispersing around her as she passed through. The only thing she saw was the gates closing in around her and suddenly, with a great force that squeezed a pained yelp from her lips, the vine around her foot yanked hard before pulling tight. Being so scraped and stung from the rough ground, it took a moment for her to realize that she had been grabbed. She was on the ground, with arms wrapped tight around her waist, and she reached out in a desperate attempt to hold on.

Gaara took no time to relish in his swift catch before she disappeared out the gates, and skidded to the ground, digging his heels into the sand to stop her path. He was shocked to see her foot wrapped up and bloody, with that thing disappearing into the sand and out of sight, pulling hard from some unknown source. He tightened his grip, trying to pull back with his legs as he hardened the sand below his feet, securing his resistance. Sakura fisted his shirt at his shoulder, a muffled groan eking past her lips, pressed into a tight line as she scowled against the pain.

"Sakura!" It was Miller, Gaara recognized his voice in an instant, and he quickly slid to a stop by their side. He came in with a knife drawn and ready, quickly slicing through the vine before scattering back. The vine recoiled, snapping back into the sand and, try as he might, Gaara lost its trail under the ground. It was as though it disappeared, vanishing beneath the surface and ceasing to exist.

Gaara sat up, releasing the grip he had on Sakura, and helped her to sit. She sucked a breath through her teeth, the vine around her foot still contorting and squeezing as she moved.

"Take it out," she breathed, her words shaken and strained. No one moved. "Get it off me!" Her true voice came out then, after Miller had only stared at the vine oozing blood from her leg and Gaara seemed to freeze at her words.

Her tone seemed to help, and Miller took his knife in hand again, stabbing through the sliced end of the vine, using the knife to peel it off. He followed its trail as it crawled around her foot and up her ankle. She tried her best to hold her little whimpers and gasps of pain as the spines were drawn from her skin. They were nasty things, curved like a talon, leaving her with puncture holes that quietly leaked blood onto the sand.

Gaara swallowed, his eyes falling on the dark pool that soaked into the ground under her foot, and his breathing quickened as if on command. A humming started in his ears, a low drone that quickly escalated into a high pitched ringing. He knew what was coming, he knew that the beast had smelled her blood, and in the sand, it could practically taste it. His jaw shook as he sucked in a breath, his world beginning to narrow, his vision tunneling and his senses prickling in response to the way that voice chuckled deeply in his mind.

Rip it apart...Kill her.

It took a moment, as it wasn't always easy to pull himself from the manipulation of that voice, but he did, and hastily cracked his knuckles, hoping for some reprieve from that cackle and the constant ringing in his ears. He took a breath, steadying himself, trying to slow his rapid heart, and as the real world started to come back into focus, he turned his attention back to the situation at hand. Sakura squirmed in front of him, fighting to get her belt off, and once undone she ripped it through the loops, taking it to her leg and securing a tourniquet below her knee. She pulled it tight, wincing as she did so, and this only caused more blood to seep from the wounds.

"Sakura," Miller pressed. From the sound of his voice, Gaara assumed he had missed something that had been said. "Please, I insist. You can't stay here!"

"There's no time," she responded, her brow pulled together in direct concentration to her wounds. It caught Gaara by surprise, to see the way she pushed her pain aside and began immediate work on her injuries. She held that look again, that pure determination and fire and in her eyes, it was the same as the day in the forest.

She pooled chakra in her hands, the glow almost lost in the bright light of the sun, and began work on her wounds. She left the small puncture holes be, not bothering with them for the time being, and instead focused on her heel. The vine, wrapped around her ankle, had sent spikes through her heel, and when she grabbed the pole it only ripped them through her skin. She thought she had felt something slice, something snap back, and she feared the worse when she pressed her fingers to her bloody foot. Her Achilles tendon, the tendon responsible for motor function with her foot, the main component in the function of walking, had been cut.

"Oh no," she breathed, her voice shaken and quiet. She pressed chakra into the wound, flooding the tendon with it, simultaneously stopping the bleeding as she inspected the damage.

"What is it?" Miller demanded, his worry clear across his face. "Dammit, you need a hospital, Sakura!"

She shot a glare back at him, his obvious lack of faith in her abilities coaxing out that temper of hers. "There's no time!" she countered. "I've got to do this now."

With that her attention turned back to the wound, Sakura poured her chakra into it, and in a moment of relief, found that her tendon had only been cut, not severed entirely. She worked on pulling the strenuous fibers of the tendon back together, giving it a temporary fix to stop it from ripping clean apart, only then did she feel comfortable going to the hospital. She quickly wiped the hair from her face, smearing dirt and blood across her forehead, her brow pinching together, feeling gritty against her skin, and did what she could to stop the bleeding. The tourniquet helped, but she needed to calm herself, slow her heartbeat to not such a rapid pace.

Her head throbbed and she groaned, squinting her eyes shut, trying to rid her vision of those fuzzy white stars. Just a little longer and she would be done. Just a few more seconds, a little more energy, and she could leave this spot confident she'd still be able to walk.

"Almost…got it," she muttered under her breath, more so to herself than the two men around her. They stayed silent, watching in a twisted mixture of fascination and trepidation. Had they ever seen this technique so closely before? Perhaps not, and if so, then it was indeed a sight to behold.

And for Gaara, it definitely was. He couldn't find any words to describe what he was seeing other than that it was nothing short of…amazing. Under the will of her chakra, carefully guided by her hands, her flesh moved and stretched, repairing the damage of the attack. It was like she could sprout new growth from that force of energy, and in the wake of the flesh, as it mended together and smoothed into one, not a scar was left to mar her skin. Like she hadn't even been touched. A thought struck him then, and he wondered if, perhaps, this was why she had been so accepting of him. She had always been meant to be a healer, it came so naturally to her, and now, seeing her work at a level far beyond her peers, there was nothing else he could see her as.

Of course, she was a healer, and he was just another in need of her healing.

"I got it," she breathed, a little smirk pulling at her lips as she completed her task. She was visibly shaken, still vibrating with adrenaline, but something about her seemed calmer, less worried. "I got it."

Gaara turned his gaze to the gates and to the desert beyond them. Something had been out there, he knew it, and it was about time that he and his sister had a little talk about what to do with Sakura. He didn't look forward to this, it would mean conversations with the council and that never seemed to go well for him. But, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was no mere coincidence, and that this attack would only be the first of many if left unchecked.

Gaara stood, taking Sakura by the arm and lifting her with him. She leaned on him for some support, a hand clutching his shirt as she tested her weight on her foot. "Miller," he muttered, his eyes still stuck on the sands to the north though his voice was in no way friendly.

"Sir?"

"We will speak of this later." He shot his superior a glare, but by the way that Miller shrunk under that stare, one would not have guessed that Gaara actually answered to him. "Sakura?" he asked, turning slightly to better take in her appearance. Her calf was dripping blood, little rivulets traveled in crimson trails down her pale skin, now stained brown and black with dirt.

She perked at the sound of her name. "Hm?" she groaned back, her voice clearly straining past the pain in her voice. She looked over at him, her brow fixed together tightly, her lips pulled down in a scowl and her eyes squinted from that pressure still throbbing behind her eyes.

He still had that picture in his pocket, the one from her report, with those prideful eyes and that shallow grin. It surprised him a little, to find that he didn't like the way this person in front of him reflected that image. She had just finished with fixing herself up and now…well, now she was back at square one, except worse. "What do you need?"

She grumbled something, wobbling a bit in her stance only to be quickly steadied by Gaara's support. "I…I need someone to finish my foot," she muttered before bringing up a hand to brace her temple, her eyes squeezing tight against a sudden fire shooting through her brain. "Ugh…Dammit," she murmured, thoroughly disappointed with her lack of reaction after the hit to head. "I, uh, I need someone to look at my head…too."

Gaara nodded curtly before looking back over to Miller. "I'm taking her back to the hospital. Go find Temari and tell her to go to the tower, I'll meet her there."

Miller nodded, his eyes slipping back down to Sakura's foot, and to the vine that shriveled on the dry ground next to them. "What about that?" he asked, pointing to the affronting weapon.

Gaara thought for a moment, wondering just how useful it would prove to be in deciphering anything about their attacker. He nodded once, mostly to himself. "Take it to Temari, I'm not done with it yet."

Miller grimaced, clearly reluctant to pick up the vine. It continued to shrivel and twitch on occasion. He stabbed it with the end of his knife again, it squirmed and he held it at a good arm's length as he inspected it with mild interest and heavy disgust. He looked back over to Gaara and Sakura, nodding once with his departure, before heading back toward the offices.

"Ready?" Gaara asked, trying to keep Sakura from swaying too far as she suffered through the head pain.

She nodded. "Yeah, I'm gonna have a killer limp though…" She slurred a little bit, probably not thinking much about what she was saying, and Gaara responded by securing his hold on her a little tighter.

"Care for the short cut?" he asked, the sand at their feet stirring and levitating as it anticipated Gaara's departure.

Sakura looked down at the soft stirring below her feet, taking a moment to appreciate how gentle it could be when he allowed, just grazing against the skin, hardly noticeable at first. She gripped his shirt, her fingers clenching the fabric tightly, and nodded. "Okay, just don't drop me."

He tried not to smirk, though her head was turned and she hadn't seen, but the statement had amused him. Him? Drop her? "Hm," he chuckled, the sand breaking apart the ground below them, swallowing up the buildings and all of those curious stares that had accumulated to watch their exchange. An even mixture of shock and worry for the poor girl, but it seemed as though she was too preoccupied to even notice them. "Never."

×愛×▬▬▬×愛×▬▬▬×愛×

Gaara and Temari had gone to a private meeting room to address the city's council on the recent event involving their little guest. It was a secretive room, one on the upper floors of the Kage tower, heavily guarded, and completely secure. One needed high clearance to even get on this floor, for it held official and top secret documents involving politicians, missions, and a litany of other things that the Wind nation would rather keep away from the public eye. All doors to this floor from the stairwells were locked and guarded, and even the elevators never stopped here without a special passkey. But Gaara had been here before, he had come many times when he was younger to see his father and receive his missions – or more appropriately named; death sentences. He never liked coming here, it always meant bickering and hateful stares, and this time was no different.

"I don't care who she is!" exclaimed a member of the council, his hands slapping down on the table, his voice booming over the others arguing around him. "Obviously it is a danger to have her in the city!"

"What?" Temari gaped at the man. "A danger?"

"You saw what happened in the market!" he jeered, pointing an accusing finger over to Miller. He stood straight for his high council member but had a sourness to his features that didn't quite dull. "You were attacked because of her!"

"Not because of her," Miller answered, his voice straining to stay level. "Because of my own choice to be close to her. Had she been on her own she might not have been caught."

"Still," another man spoke, his voice gravelly with age. "You cannot ignore that the presence of a crowd had not deterred this terrorist one bit." He folded his hands together on the table, leaning forward in thought. "Perhaps it is best to get her away from the populous."

"I can't believe this," Temari breathed, taking a quick glance to Gaara and finding him standing to the side of the room, observing the council with a scowl on his face. "Can you hear yourselves?" she demanded, her gaze turning hard on the members of the council. "If Chiyo were here you would listen to reason! She is the Hokage's apprentice! The woman practically views her as a national treasure and you're speaking of throwing her out to the wolves!"

"Her misfortune does not dictate the safety of our people!"

"Our people are in no danger! Sakura is the one on the line!" she countered, her voice threatening to break into a cursing rage.

Gaara watched his sister, knowing full well why she had become so worked up. Though he hadn't been present for them, and neither had she, these were the same types of discussions these old men used to have about Gaara, and probably still did. What to do with him, how to distance themselves from him, how to leave him to rot. She didn't have a voice in any of those matters back then, but she did now, and she intended to use it.

"Temari," he spoke, his low voice familiar enough for her to catch in the noisy room.

She looked over at him, an echo of that fire still burning in her eyes and frustrated worry on her face. His look, though blank and seemingly expressionless, was clear to her. She needed to calm down. She couldn't get this worked up advocating for a foreigner when their own people had been caught in the middle. She took a breath, as if to say something, but quickly thought better of it and only nodded.

Gaara stepped forward then, pushing himself off the wall and coming to stand next to the table by his sister. His presence still commanded the attention of those around him, even if he chose to be more subtle these days. "Temari is right," he said, his voice solid and steadfast in his opinion. "With someone so close to the Hokage, we must take account of all possible repercussions of our actions with her. Even with protection, a whole battalion even, who's to say she's safe out in the desert? Whatever grabbed her evaded even my detection until it was already in the city, and it has evaded me before. No one you send with would be able to see it coming, you'd be sending her to her death."

"That's right!" Temari agreed, her eyes skimming over the perturbed faces of the council. "Not to mention how that would look to Tsunade."

A man at the council sighed, rubbing his face into his hands with clear exhaustion with his fellow council. He was a younger member, one of a few who had been recently appointed, and he didn't care much for the stubborn views of his elders. "Then what do you suggest, Temari?"

Temari straightened, her shoulders shifting back to expose a proud and confident chin. "She stays with us," she said, her voice sure and nearly stubborn sounding in her resolve. Gaara threw her a quick glance, his eyes a little wide.

"Done," the man said, throwing his hands in a sign of defeat. "If you wish to take it on, then it's your responsibility," he spoke, turning his eyes suggestively toward her before speaking again, in a low, serious tone. "Captain."

"What?" roared the man to his side. "How can you let this just slide by? Surely she's not capable of –"

"Excuse me?" Temari demanded, her normally smooth voice booming angrily over the chattering men. They hushed, clearly dazed at the tone in her voice as she addressed them. "We are our father's children. The prodigies of the late Kazekage and throughout our whole lives we have been trained as such. By looking at my family you look at three of the strongest shinobi in your military and you dare say that we are incapable?!" She scoffed, sneering her words across the table. "There is no safer place in this entire country than within my home, and that is where she stays."

Gaara, a little surprised and a little proud of the way she had yelled her scornful passions to the council, hesitated a moment before speaking. "But, Temari, are you –"

"Am I what? Serious?" she demanded, thoroughly throwing her little brother for a loop at the way she glared at him. It was a look he hadn't often seen throughout his life, not directed at him at least. "Of course I am! Where could you possibly put her that would be any safer than in our home? The dungeons? Do you want to be the one to tell her she's got to spend the night down there? Cause I sure as hell don't!"

"Of course not, but –"

"Gaara, it'll be fine. Today was too close a call to risk anything for the sake of your comfort. For the sake of anyone's comfort," she concluded, turning her gaze to the table of men, deeply wishing that Chiyo had gone to council with her, to help her against the stubborn ways of the board. But she was needed with Sakura, Gaara had said that her ankle had been badly injured, there had been scattered talk of her not healing properly. She took a breath to steady herself, to calm her nerves and settle her anger. "Regardless," she muttered, her voice quiet now. "We've got less than 48 hours until her team comes for her. Until then, she is our responsibility, under our care. When we took her to the hospital, when we sent that first letter off to the Leaf, that's what we agreed to. We've already betrayed that trust once, let's not make it personal this time."

Gaara thinned his lips, mulling around the reasoning of his sister, and found that he couldn't combat them. She was right. "Very well," Gaara said, taking a glance over to her before looking back to the council. "Sakura stays with us."

"We'll bring the whole damn hospital room home if we have to," Temari said, her hard eyes daring someone to challenge her. These were men of politics, not men of battle, and she was very confident in her ability to beat almost everyone in the room to a pulp. Plus, having Gaara there to stand in her corner always worked as a good deterrent. And he did just that. He stood there, arms crossed in stubborn resolve toward his sister's conviction, and his expression showed it. There weren't many that dared to defy him when he wore this look. During his younger years, doing such had been deemed…unwise.

The men grumbled between themselves, mumbling their words under quiet breath before agreeing to her terms.

"Fine," they agreed. "But, if anything happens, this will be on your head, Temari."

She nodded, fully willing to shoulder that responsibility. "I understand."

With that, the men at the table waved their dismissal and she and Gaara left the room. They stepped slowly down the hall, Temari clearly lost in thought over what to do about Sakura, what could happen, what could go wrong. "Are you sure about this?" Gaara asked. "If anything goes wrong, it could ruin your chances of ever being a captain again."

She nodded, her brow pulling together in thought before sending him a hopeful half-smile. "Of course I'm sure," she said, her voice quiet as they walked to the stairwell down the empty hall. "I've got you in my corner, don't I?"

He nodded back, looking back ahead toward the door. He wasn't very good with sentiments, even worse at expressing himself, but he knew that Temari took these little inches he gave and interpreted them as miles. He didn't have to tell her that he was going to do everything in his power to protect her position, to defend her decisions as his captain. But more so than that, she knew that he would destroy anyone who posed a threat to his sister, and in this case, that included anyone that posed a threat to Sakura as well.

×愛×▬▬▬×愛×▬▬▬×愛×