"What the hell is this?" The man demanded, his slightly aged face wrought with fury and apprehension.
"It's a lawsuit, sir." stated the young woman dryly, having been through this many times.
"What for? Who the hell would file against me? I'm a star citizen!" His face was turning red, and he looked about to lash out.
"Look, sir, all I do is deliver them. You want more information, open it up, read it, and get a damn good lawyer." At that she turned, walking back down the walk, and then hopping into her car. He watched lividly as she drove off, then furiously tour open the manila envelope the lawsuit was in, and quickly scanned through the trext, his eyes narrowing in anger as they were absorbed.
"I thought I got rid of this... I'll just have to squash him into the ground like a little nasty bug..." He muttered under his breath.
The sweat was pouring off his forehead, and the back of his neck. He put up his arms to block his face, but she surprised him with a upper cut to his stomach. He let out a pained breath of surprise, and wanted very much to curl up on the floor and just lie there.
But Gaara kept blocking, his movements growing weaker and weaker as he tired. He was not used to endurance work. He had been at this for nearly an hour, and he could barely stand now.
"Come on, Gaara!" laughed Tsunade, stepping back, and putting her hands down. "You're slower than Sakura. Come on already!" She held up her hands, as if beckoning him to hit her.
"You come on." he retorted icily, his eyes narrowing in disdain. Tsunade shrugged, and slugged him in the stomach. For once, he swung back, and connected blindly with her shoulder.
She let out a sharp breath, and held up her hand. "I'm an old woman, dammit! Take it easy!" She rubbed her shoulder gently, and glared at him angrilly.
"You told me to!" rushed Gaara defensively, yanking off his gloves.
"So? I didn't mean that hard!"
"Don't stop now," reasoned the old man. Bo, if you've forgotten his name, was actually younger than he looked. He looked about fifty, but in truth, he was only thirty-eight. His face might have once been pretty, but it was far from it now. His nose had once been straight and fine, but it now sat crooked to the left, the after-effect of too many right hooks. His jaws were large at the hinge, as a result of to many dislocations. His eyes were hooded, the swollen effect still remaining. He always looked as though he had black eyes, and his lips were scarred and cracked. It was a face only a compassionate and empathetic woman could love.
"What's the point?" sighed Gaara dejectedly.
"What do you mean what's the point? There is no point to this, it's to help you get better, feel better! If you can't take that, then maybe you shouldn't be doing it! Now put you're damn gloves back on, an show me what you're made of. Tsunade, hand me your gloves." Tsunade obliged, wincing in pain when her shoulder throbbed with a pulsing sensation whenever she moved.
Bo tugged the gloves onto his hands, and then held them out for Tsunade to secure.
She fastened them quickly, and then asked Gaara if he was ready. Gaara shook his head no, and pushed his hands into his gloves and then Sakura tied them and velcroed them to his wrists.He let out a low breath, and wiped a trickle of sweat form his brow.
His fist seemed to come out of nowhere, he was a lot quicker and stronger than Tsunade had been. It was all Gaara could do to avoid that extra punch, and try to get in one of his own. He was getting angrier and angrier as he felt more and more defenseless and useless. He didn't it was there until it overflowed, and he lashed out and caught Bo with a right hook in the side of the head. Bo froze, and Gaara withdrew, realizing he'd hit the man. Bo swung back, and Gaara remained frozen.
"Come on! Hit me again!" yelled Bo. "HIT ME!"
He battered Gaara into the corner, and Gaara tentively pushed him back, punching him lightly on the shoulder.
"There you go, again. I won't get mad, go ahead."
Gaara's hits grew progressively harder and harder as he took in this information. He didn't want to hurt Bo, but his fists were of their own, now. He couldn't stop, they kept swinging. His body was so exhausted he wasn't even tired anymore, a feeling he had recently grown unaccustomed to.
After a while the fatigue returned to him, and he almost instantaneously was sapped of energy. His shoulders sagged, and he stopped swinging. He, after a nod from Bo, yanked ff his gloves, and wobbled over to his folding chair. They were in the institute's gym, and there were folding chairs everywhere. Sakura smiled a knowing smile. Someone wouldn't be needing medication tonight.
He slept soundly, the medicine not bogging down his dream. He dreampt of relatively good dreams, but they still managed to frighten him.He dreampt of going to court, and winning, but his Dad showed up when he was leaving and shot Temari and Kankuro. He awoke the next morning with a start, and he rubbed his eyes awake almost frantically.
He sat up and looked around him. He remember slowly that Kankuro and Temari had to return home, and go back to work. He struggled to remember where Tsunade and Sakura were, but in all truth, they had never told him. He grabbed his bag, and opened the door. It was always left open a crack to let him roam around. They had put his handprint into the scanners, so that they would let him upstairs but no further.
He made his way to the shower, and then stripped down, and showered. He had to admit, he smelled pretty bad. He scrubbed hard at his head, the smell of the shampoo filling the small stall. He had picked this one out because it reminded him of his mother. It was cherry chocolate, and the conditioner was some kind of fruity shampoo. He didn't care as long as he smelled good. He hadn't had a chance to use it yet, but today was the day. He nearly rubbed his skin raw with the amount of force he used. His rational was the more force, the longer he would smell like his mother. The smell in the shower was calming, it reminded him of his mother.
He knew men weren't supposed to use conditioner, Bo had told him so, but he didn't care. He yawned loudly, and squeezed some body wash onto a pouf. it was called HeMan, and smelled of watermelon. His brother used watermelon shampoo. He toweled off, and pulled his clothes from his bag and yanked them over his head. The "locker room" was empty, and he liked his privacy.
The mirrors were foggy, the steam from his shower misting over them like fog on a creepy October morning. Thanksgiving was in another week, the meeting with the Board had been put off til' after Christmas.He was glad for this, because he was only going along with it for it was what Sakura wanted. He didn't know how to opperate any where other than this, he didn't knwo how he would survive. He pushed the thought from his mind, and thought about ihs Mother. he was rememberieng the good times, with each whiff.
He wandered back to his room, his towel slung over his shouler, and his hair still dripping wet. His face was dripping, no matter how much he dried it., the water from his hair dripping back onto his face.
He flopped back onto his bed, the tiredness he had been outrunning nearly all of his life consuming him once more. This times his dreams were pleasant, the scent of his mother guidinng him gently.
Author's Note- I am sorry I haven't written in forever. Been busy. Birthday is the tenth of October! Wish me luck!
mellokai/ Lauren