AN: Okay. This is mostly flashback. Because…I'm the author and I say so…

Also I forgot to mention the police last chap. But they're there. I think any time an ambulance is called a car has to be deployed. Something like that…the point is that the cops are already there. Also, I never mentioned whether or not he had the tattoo in this uni. He does.

Warnings: Flashback fun.

Disclaimer: If I owned Naruto it would take place in High school. Since it doesn't, I obviously don't.

Chapter Twenty-One

Secret Little Lies

One medic carefully cut the shirt open to check the condition of his ribs. He is afraid that a rib may have rebroken and punctured an organ or muscle. What he sees stops him cold. There is a horrible electrical burn on his left pectoral, spreading into the crook of the shoulder. There are long, thin scars on the edges of both shoulders. He runs a quick hand over Gaara's chest, checking for broken ribs. Finding none, he looks his partner in the eyes.

"Flip him." He orders and the other immediately complies.

For the first time, Gaara allows another to see the thousands of serpentine scars covering his back. Their reactions are immediate.

"Shit…" one breathes.

"Who…" another starts, but can't seem to finish.

Iruka tears up at the sight, at the confirmation of everything he'd feared. He turns on Kaze grabbing hold of his fine silk shirt.

"You sick bastard!" Iruka shouts, getting within inches of Kaze's face. "How could you do that to your son?!"

"I assure you, Mr. Umino, that I had nothing to do with any of Gaara's injuries." Kaze states calmly, glaring at Iruka. "My son is a very unstable boy. He fights incessantly."

"He got electrical burns in a fight?" Iruka asks sarcastically releasing his hold on the older man. Two police officers step forward.

"Mr. Subaku, until this is resolved, I'm afraid you're going to have to come with us." One says. The other pulls out a pair of handcuffs.

"This is ridiculous." Kaze says indignantly. "You haven't got a warrant or due cause. The only evidence you have is a few scars on an extremely violent seventeen year old." The officer snaps the cuffs around the still protesting man as the medics lift Gaara onto a crash cart. "I want my lawyer. I want my lawyer here now!"

Gaara conscious but not really awake, takes in the unfolding drama without comprehension. All he can think about is the last time his father had to snap him out of an episode; the last time ambulances and police cars had surrounded him; the last time he'd shown his scars to another person; the last time he felt safe and loved and secure.

OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

Suna

Eleven Years Ago

Yashamaru smiles and pulls the sniffling boy closer. He whispers soft words that mean nothing and serve only to reassure the boy that he's here. Gaara clings tightly to Yashamaru, tiny hands fisted in the folds of his white doctor's coat.

"I didn't do anything." Gaara sobs, surprisingly articulate for a six year old. "He just got so angry, and then he was hitting me. Again and again. Don't make me go back Yashamaru. Please."

"Shh, Gaara. It'll be okay." Yashamaru soothes, gently rocking the redhead and stroking his hair. "You have to go back. You always have go back." Gaara shakes his head vehemently and mumbles something incoherent. "Hmmm?"

"He hates me. Everyone here hates me. None of the other kids will play with me. Their parents say mean things." Gaara pulls back and looks pleadingly into Yashamaru's eyes. "And Father does funny things to Temari! She won't tell me what he does, and she doesn't have bruises like I do, but he's hurting her. I can tell! Can't you do something, Yashamaru? Please?"

Yashamaru frowns. "Gaara, there's something I want to show you…" he stands and offers the small boy his hand.

Shukaku begins a deep rumble of warning.

This is not right…you should kill him. Like the rabbits from before. Remember the rabbits?

Go away! I don't like you. You make me think funny.

I can't make you do anything. You like doing those things. I bet you would really like killing Yashamaru. I think you should. I don't like the way he looks at you some times. He has hatred in his heart.

Not uh! Yashamaru loves everyone!

Not you. No one loves you. He hates you. Just like your father. Because you're a killer.

I didn't mean to kill the bunnies. It was an accident.

Yashamaru guides him slowly towards his balcony, oblivious to his nephew's inner turmoil.

You accidentally spent weeks taming them? You accidentally stole a knife from the kitchen? And you accidentally cut them open and played in their blood?

YOU told me to!

Yes, I did. I also told you that it would be fun. Was it?

Maybe… But it was wrong!

YOU decide what's wrong. And I'm telling you that killing Yashamaru will feel a hundred times better than bunnies ever could. And I was right before, wasn't I?

"Gaara, there's something I've been wanting to tell you since you were born." Gaara is drawn back into the real world by the surprising harshness in his beloved uncle's voice. Yashamaru pulls a small hand gun from his pocket. He stares at it intensely before looking at Gaara. "Do you know what this is?" Gaara shakes his head mutely. "This is a gun. People use it to kill. Do you know what it means to kill? To be a killer?"

"Yes." Gaara whispers, because he does know. His father always calls him a murderer and a killer when he's angry. And Shukaku makes him like hurting bunnies. He knows what a killer is. Better than any six year old should.

"He's called you a killer before hasn't he? Your father?" there is something wrong with Yashamaru's eyes. The normal peaceful and loving grey hardened with a smoldering anger.

He has betrayed you. Kill him.

"He's right you know. You are a killer." Yashamaru's grip shifts, the gun moving from resting on the palm of his hand to being held in a firm grip. Hatred contorts his features into an unrecognizable mask. "You killed my sister!" He points the gun at Gaara angrily. "You're a monster!"

Kill him. Kill him or he will kill you! KILL! KILL!

"Yashamaru?" Gaara whispers, tears streaming down his face.

"Monster! Monster! Monster!" Yashumaru's echoes in the quiet night. "You're a killer! I hate you! I've always hated you!"

KILL HIM!! HE'S JUST LIKE THE REST!! HE HATES YOU!!

The betrayal cuts through Gaara's entire being. The red curtains fall over the stage of his mind and he gives into Shukaku's screams. Without thought, Gaara picks up a sharp stone from the ground and launches himself at his ranting uncle. The gun swings wide as Gaara tackles Yashumaru to the ground. Tiny fists crash down like rain on the older man, the hand with the rock drawing small dots of blood and shallow cuts. For a few moments. Then Yashamaru gets over his surprise and flings the boy from him.

He wipes blood from his lips with a sad little smile. "You are a little monster aren't you?" The gun comes to Yashamaru's own head. "Well, you killed me. Just like my sister. You sucked the life out of her. Drained it all, until she hadn't any left. Drain it all, until I don't want any more. Such a good little killer…"

CRACK—BANG

Yashamaru's brains and blood fly into the air; his lifeless body crumples to the ground. Crimson blood oozes down a crisp white coat, splashes walls and floor and face. An inhuman scream rips through Gaara and he takes the rock he had wielded against his uncle, and hacks furiously at his forehead, meticulously forming the kanji for a word he no longer believes in. Blood runs in rivers down his face, into his eyes and down his chin, but he doesn't notice.

This is how his father finds him: covered in his uncle's blood and his own, hacking love into his face.

"Gaara Suna Kaze Subaku," Kaze roars, grabbing his youngest child's wrist, "CONTROL YOURSELF!"

Fear penetrates Gaara haze of pain and betrayal. He freezes completely. Rock still digging into his forehead. Kaze drags him inside, shouting obscenities. His hand snakes out and back hands the young boy.

"Sit." he snarls. And Gaara obeys. Kaze calls an ambulance and, of course, the cops come too. He explains what he's seen and agrees when they say they want to talk to the boy.

"My name's Ichigo." One says. He is old, fifty or older, with a kind face and friendly eyes. "What's yours?"

"Gaara." Voice devoid of emotion; dead. Eyes hollow.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"He shot himself. He got angry with me and pulled out a gun, so I tackled him and hit him with a rock. He pushed me away and shot himself."

Ichigo's eyes widen at the perfect calmness Gaara says this with. He shoots a look at Kaze who gives a shrug that says he always talks like that. "What happened to your head?" Ichigo asks, pointing to the white bandage the medics had wrapped over his bloody kanji.

"I carved 'love' into my forehead." Gaara deadpans.

Ichigo waits for an explanation. When it becomes obvious that Gaara isn't going to offer one he queries him carefully. "Why? Why would you do that? It must have hurt."

"I don't want forget. Every day I'll be reminded that love is a lie."

Ichigo's eyes widen once more. "That's not true. I'm sure your uncle was very sick and that this had nothing to do with you. Your father and siblings love you too."

"They hate me." Finally some emotion in his voice. Rage.

"I'm sure they don't hate you." Ichigo's says kindly.

"Gaara, you shouldn't say such things." Kaze scolds angrily. Gaara turns on him , fury written across his face.

"Why not? You do hate me. Why do you hit me so much if you don't?!" he shouts, tear gather in his eyes. "How come you call me names and tell me I can't eat at the table with the rest of the family? How come you whip my back so bad it bleeds for days and Yashamaru has to sew the skin back together?!" Gaara rips his shirt off. Ichigo turns a hard eye on Kaze at the sight of dozens of new and old cuts and scars crisscrossing Gaara's back.

"I had no idea he was hurting you so much." Kaze says and sweeps Gaara into his arms. He wrings out some fake tears and a sob or two, while Gaara squirms around. It's the only hug he's ever gotten out of his father and the bastard is only doing it to weasel out of a child abuse charge. "Why didn't you tell me Yashamaru was hurting you?"

Gaara manages to wiggle out of his father's arms. "Because Yashamaru never touched me! Not like you!"

"The boy is clearly distraught." Kaze says, wiping away his crocodile tears. "His uncle must have messed with his head…"

Ichigo nods his head, but he keeps a weary eye on Kaze and Gaara. But nothing had happened. Nothing could be proven. Temari wouldn't talk. Kankuro flatly denied everything. And Yashumaru was blamed.

Kaze spent another six years in Suna running his beautiful, perfect little business. And when he told them they were all moving to Kohona to improve Suna Corp's relations with Hokage and Co., Gaara just had one stop to make first.

"Trace the scar in blood red." Was all he said and threw a handful of hundreds at the man. Knowing Gaara was clearly underage, but not caring, the man does as he bids. When Gaara walks into the town of Kohona, it is with the mark of his hatred forever etched into his face.

He will never forget. Never

AN: Yay for flashbacks. Took forever…