~REAPED~

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Something didn't seem to fit.

It had been a week's time since the Warden gave him the knife—yet-no one else at the prison seemed to notice how susceptible Lee was to harassment. Or rather, no one thought to harass him.

In all, it seemed that Gaara and himself were the only ones to know that their 'deal' was off, and for that, Lee was glad. With no announcement of Gaara discarding him, Lee could still milk his 'deal' situation. He wasn't certain for how long, but it didn't matter. Taking advantage of it while everyone was oblivious was the key—but he didn't know how to use the key to his advantage.

I'm just me. I'm just Lee.

When had he ever been the type to be physically aggressive? And in a hostile place no less? Lee + Aggression + Hostile Place = Certain Death or Worst.

But.

Haku could carry his own weight. So why couldn't he?

Gaara isn't protecting me. I have to protect myself.

With that thought, he felt himself fall even further into a pit of black frustration, confusion, and depression. And the most agitating thing was that, out of all his feelings, fatigue seemed to get at him the most.

Lee dozed in the weight room—in his cell—in the Yard. Everywhere was his bed, and everywhere was his pillow. Gaara wouldn't look or talk to him, and he hadn't seen Haku in four days. He was out of touch with reality and he really didn't care.

But then—

The lights—buzzing and blinking—were off and on in the Weight Room for a good minute before the electricity stabilized. The News Broadcast was back on the big screen, the treadmills were cycling, and the music buzzed again. Lee, for a moment, broke his passive expression with panic in his eyes, but then he stabilized just as the electricity had.

Released into the Yard on schedule, Lee was bumped around in the crowd of inmates as they passed him by and into the sandy lot. Pausing briefly, he stared off at the piercing sky and its sun on the horizon. Passive. Bored. Fatigued.

He then looked at the bleachers and saw what he didn't think was real.

Haku.

All by his lonesome on the metal steps was just sitting—calculating. He was chewing down a thumbnail to the quick. His deep eyes were bulged and his brow was crouched.

Without even feeling the sand whip around his jumper or the tension in the bleachers as he climbed them, Lee found himself looming over Haku's figure with wide eyes.

Looking up with wild eyes, Haku gasped softly. After staring at Lee minutely, Haku said quietly, "Sit down."

Minutes passed with them sitting thigh to thigh, yet despite all the grunts of inmates around them, the air between them seemed awkwardly still. The only sound was Haku's dwindling thumbnail and the whipping sand. Even though Lee wasn't comfortable with the silence, he wasn't trying to break it either. He just didn't have anything to say. No progress with Gaara and no progress with reputation.

"Do you believe..." came Haku's hollow voice, "That bad people do good things?"

The boy's eyes drooped as he stared at his thighs—passive. Lee knew the question wasn't for him to answer, so he sat in responsive silence.

"He was a hired gun, Zabuza I mean." He closed away his deep eyes, "I wasn't up to anything myself. Had run away from home. Was starving on the street. Then Zabuza passed me by-looked at me-and I looked at him."

Tilting his head the slightest bit, his eyes opened to sleepy slits.

"Just the way he was standing told me he was dangerous—a killer even—but I didn't care. Who would care if I was gone? My parents didn't come looking for me. Even neighbors who recognized me on the streets looked away. I was nothing—and yet—so was he. But Zabuza was dangerous and reckless. People looked at him and thought, 'What's his story?' And then he walked up to me, yanked me up by my cotton shirt," Haku made a fist and threw it up quickly to emphasis, "and said, 'You picked that man's pocket…the one that just passed you by. I saw it.'"

"Of course I was scared," Haku shook his head and smiled grimly, "So I tried giving him the wallet, but he didn't want it. He wanted me instead. Said I could be his tool. To steal money and inventory—and eventually he let me lure in his 'hits'."

Haku closed his eyes and gave out a short laugh.

Slowly he opened his eyes back up to the sun…then they became sleepy slits. Then they drooped down—looking at his thighs again.

"Even though I was nothing, and he was nothing, we had each other."

Haku shook his head slowly.

"Now…I'm not saying Zabuza is a good man. He really isn't. Zabuza is a gun for hire—a 'bad person'. But he does good things. Thing."

Pressing a finger into his chest, Haku smiled. It was the saddest smile Lee had ever seen…and he'd worn a few for the past month he'd been locked up.

"I'm Zabuza's one and only good thing."

Today was a Sunday, so inmates were allowed extra free time, and if they wanted, they could go back to their cell and sleep. Not Lee though. He wanted to be anywhere but his cell, so he had walked to the weight room when he was released back into Suna—Haku in tow.

The boy had shared many things with him in the Yard. How he and Zabuza met. How he and Zabuza were one. And although it showed that Haku was trusting him with something private…

Lee was jealous.

Zabuza? A killer who was—by what Haku had shared—merciful? Zabuza did a good thing and had Haku as his martyr? And they both knew everything about the other—and Haku never had to ask questions to Zabuza. He had studied Zabuza as Zabuza had studied him. There were no questions to be asked.

Yet

Gaara had been his cellmate and protector for a month already, but no matter how much Lee studied the redhead, he had learned nothing. Nothing other than the fact that Gaara was lonely and suspicious of everything and everyone. Probably because of his father. Probably because he only knew prison. And Lee knew that much because he was told so secondhand.

He knew nothing from Gaara's own words because the boy hadn't said anything on his own behalf—and as much as Lee wanted to like Gaara—the boy never trusted him to begin with. Lee was just a toy—had always been a toy.

Glancing back at a blank Haku, he inwardly grunted.

Gaara wasn't talking to him. And probably wouldn't be for the rest of his stay.

But

He had to know. He had to know more. More about Gaara.

He wanted to know Gaara the way Haku knew Zabuza.

"Lee…aren't you going to sit down?" Haku asked, pointing to the space on his work bench.

Hesitantly, Lee did so. Once he was seated, he glanced about the exercise area and noticed other eyes shift away from him. They had been watching him…

"Haku?" Lee whispered, "When Zabuza isn't around…do you use his name in defense?"

To that, Haku's lips tightened, "Only when I don't want to fight."

"So his name works as a shield?"

Slowly, Haku narrowed his eyes to beads and stared at Lee for one very suspicious second.

"…What are you going to do."

Lee swallowed as he stood up with no backbone.

"Something reckless."

Taking shallow steps, he approached a bigger inmate who was probably in his mid-thirties. He was deeply tanned, had a scar running down his left eye, and a dragon tattoo peeking out from under an orange sleeve.

The man put his hand of cards down and glared at Lee sharply. It took every ounce of Lee's courage not to flinch and back away.

"You got's a starin' problem? The fuck you want."

"Information." Came Lee's shaky reply

The man looked at his equally gruff friend, and then back at Lee. A smile broke across his face and then a fat boisterous laugh escaped him.

"I don't even know you kid!" As his laugh died, he added, "But if you wantto get to know me…"

Fingers reached out teasingly toward Lee's thigh—and in his peripheral vision—he saw that Haku had stood up sharply.

And then—out of his mouth—Lee heard himself say something curt and final. Just a breath away from Lee, the man's fingers paused in their pursuit. He scrunched his nose up at Lee.

"…What'd you say to me?"

"I said," Lee repeated, narrowing his eyes, "Touch me and die."

Jerked up by his collar roughly, Lee's jumper was rumpled in the man's fist. On his tip toes, Lee kept his face still even though his mind was in hysterics. Whipping a fist back, the man grunted before swinging it-

" Gaara is my cellmate."—and then the inmate paused. Paused in mid-swing.

"…You're lying out your-"

"And his father's the warden."

The man blinked hard. He looked back at his friend, who looked equally as confused and pissed off.

"You hit me—not only is Gaara going to get you—but the warden will have you locked up for all your days."

With a reluctant glare, and a limp grip…he let Lee's jumper collar go. Sucking in a quick breath, Lee said, "We're not done yet. I need information—remember?"

The man glared fire at him and snapped, "I got nuthin' to say. Fuck off, why don't you." Turning his back on Lee, he sat himself down at his card table, picking up a straight flush as he did so.

"We're not," Lee repeated loudly, "done yet."

Jumping up, the table had flipped over, and the man was standing chest to chest with Lee—angry.

"You can't hear? I said I got nuthin' to say."

"Answer my questions and I'll go."

Staggering a second, the man shut his eyes tightly, and then grunted, "I ain't got all day."

Gaara didn't look at him as he walked into the cell, the gate grinding closed at his back.

After the cell had shut them both in, there was a thick silence.

Lee stood standing, watching his redheaded cellmate carve into the bedside wall with rubble that had fallen from the ceiling. And then—

"You started off in Suna Juvenile at age ten. Then you were transferred here at age seventeen."

To that, Gaara paused in his carving. Those ocean eyes shut momentarily before opening up to slits—glaring. Lee didn't cower under the cold expression—he was too consumed in the information he had received to feel shaken. He only had sympathy for the boy.

"You're here under suspicion for the homicide of your cousin, Sasori."

That.

That got to Gaara ultimately. The redhead stood up, his posture slouched and his face heavy—he looked like he always did. But Lee knew for a fact that the redhead was boiling. His ocean eyes were fierce with a storm of deep blues...

"My life," Gaara snapped, "isn't your business."

"It is when it interferes with mine."

Gaara took a threatening step forward; his teeth barred for a split second—but then subsided under a deep frown.

"Interferes…?" Gaara smirked—then snorted, "You enticed me into a deal. Then you took my dad's offer to kill me. And you say I'm interfering with your life?" Then—angrily—he hissed, "Hypocrites don't get the time of day from me."

Without skipping a beat, Lee shot back, "I had no choice. If I said no, your dad would have asked someone else-someone who wouldn't have hesitated to kill you for a few months off their sentence!" Lee clenched his fist—but kept his voice stern.

No more. No way was he taking anymore shit. He was too tired…

"We can be a team—no deal necessary."

Gaara stared at Lee. Like. Really stared—as if he'd never seen the boy before. A chuckle, then a sharp, snarky laugh. He was laughing. Laughing at Lee.

"Seven years." Running a hand through his wine-red curls, he chuckled, "Seven years alone…and you want to preach about teamwork?" A barking laugh escaped the redhead, "That's Bullshit…"

Lee shut his eyes tightly, and for a moment, felt a blackness well up from within. It had been sitting dormant inside of him for so long…even before the time he'd been sent to Suna Maximum. It had been buried so deep—he didn't think it'd ever surface—not on his features—not ever. But there it was, in his throat—just sitting. Waiting. Lee swallowed. Then swallowed again.

No.

That anger—that bitter anger wasn't going to get him. Not today.

"What do you want me to do, Gaara?"

To this, Gaara's laughter had settled into choppy chuckles. Lee knew he had Gaara's attention then.

Clenching his fists, Lee pressed on, "What do you want me to do…to prove that I can protect you too?"

"Protect?" Gaara's eyes widened slightly at that—ocean green dilated just a bit.

"You can't even protect yourself. Having you fight my battles-that'd be like air protecting me from bullets."

There it was—so quick. He hadn't even known until he noticed Gaara holding onto a cheek—blood on his lower lip—it was split. Lee blinked rapidly and held his own fist against his chest. He had just punched Gaara across the face. And—it felt good.

In his stupor, four hard knuckles pressed into Lee's chin—he felt it click from the force.

Ah.

Fighting—Lee and Gaara were really fighting. A knee to the gut, a fist to the head, an elbow to the chest. Brawling.

…

…

He felt his back hit the cement floor of their cell. Lee couldn't get up…he didn't have the strength—it had all gone into his last kick to Gaara's shoulder. Gaara was slumped against the bedside wall between his cot and the toilet. The both of them were panting heavily.

"Proved. Fight. Can." Lee huffed out—still on his back.

For a minute there wasn't a response from Gaara. And then…half an hour. Then an hour…

During the entire waiting, Lee hadn't moved from his position on the floor. Not an inch—not to fix his clothes or to wipe his mouth of dried blood. He was afraid of what Gaara would say—if he would say anything at all. Did he hate him? Did he believe him? Would he confide in him?

"…"

"…Gaara?"

"Fuck you."

"Gaar-"

"Fuck. You."

From the corner, Gaara crawled over from the wall to Lee on the floor. He took shaky hands and pressed them around Lee's neck.

"You don't know me…"

Lee put trembling finger around Gaara's wrists, but they were limp. Removing Gaara's hands wasn't his intention…he just wanted to touch him.

"Then tell me who you are."

"…No."

The hands around Lee's throat loosened, but not enough to let him break away.

"…Anything will do. Just tell me one thing."

"I can't."

Lee paused a minute to consider Gaara's decision. It was unfair…mentally he cursed. What the hell was he doing? Ah. He was having another epiphany.

"…It's personal, I get it. If you can't say, then fine. Get off me."

"…No." Gaara pressed his lips against Lee's forcefully—all teeth. When Lee tried to struggle, the hands around his throat began to constrict. Breaking the kiss, Gaara glared down at Lee and whispered, "No more asking around—and no more talking."

The next kiss met Lee's cheek, for Lee had swiftly flipped onto his side. Taken back, Lee spat, "Get off me! I'm not your slave anymore—or couldn't you tell!"

Gaara ignored the comment and took a hand away from Lee's throat and pressed it across his stomach. Lee let out an angry grunt, "Stop…! I don't want to hate you, Gaara. So, stop!" A hand forced Lee's shoulder down, pinning him on his back again. Glaring up into Gaara's face—

Ocean green was deep and glassy…the frown a dark line…and the curls hanging still…

Never had Lee seen such a lonely expression. The same blackness that had been in his throat was now in Gaara's face.

It was a cold and bitter black—one that would drown everything it saw.

"I'd rather you hated me, Lee, because no one can forgive me."

"…Not even your mother?"

"She's dead."

Gaara nipped at Lee's neck—pulling down the boy's jumper collar over a tan shoulder.

"…Not even your siblings?"

"They resent me."

A hand jutted into the jumper's opening and roughly caressed a nipple. Lee shut his eyes away from the abuse Gaara was doing to his body for a brief moment before saying, "I can forgive you for this…even though it hurts…even though I hate it…because you need me."

Nippy bites and rough touches froze.

"I know you want to tell me something…but can't." Lee cupped Gaara's bruised cheeks in warm fingers. With a frown, he whispered a soft, "You're not allowed to, right? I get that much…so you don't need to force me into needing you with fear." Pressing a gentle kiss upon Gaara's split lips, he mapped his fingers down the boy's chin…neck…and collar bones. The blackness in Gaara's face was lifting…his eyes didn't look as toneless.

"Why do you want to help me?" Gaara murmured—not as confident as he had appeared moments before.

"…I think we're the same. If I save you—I can save myself…? I don't know."

There was a moment of silence. And then Gaara rolled off of Lee and lay by him-ear to ear.

"…"

"…"

"How does a team work?"

Lee sighed—still not even sure if what was happening was real, but he answered, "I guess we make a plan."

"Against who?"

"…Your dad for one. And…" Lee paused a moment before tilting his head to the side to catch Gaara staring at him. He opened his mouth, and then closed it abruptly. Closing his eyes to Gaara, he whispered, "We get rid of someone named, Deidara."

AN: Yeah. I know. It's been a long while-truth be told, I never really knew how to get from a to b with this plotline-but I do know how I want it to end so :[ (sorry about that)-anyway~~I really don't know how this chapter reads: it made sense in my head-but if it's confusing...well...my bad! It's been awhile guys. Really sorry~~

And thanks to Darkness33 for the cover art!