Once we returned to the sand village, we separated after the brisk report was given and I went home. As soon as I walked in the door I shed my clothing in a path to the shower. Once in the bathroom I didn't even wait for the water to heat up, I simply got in, turned the water on, flinching and crying out softly when the cold water hit me. I cranked it all the way up, the water slowly going from freezing to scorching. I washed my hair, and soaped up thoroughly, then rinsed off.

But it wasn't enough, I still felt dirty from the experience. The jutsu on my stomach was still there even after we had had some medical ninja look at it. It couldn't do any harm with its wielder dead, no-one could work it except him, so I wasn't worried about that, but just having it on my skin was terrible and felt like a brand.

I picked up the soap and my loofa, soaping up and rinsing off, soaping up and rinsing off, soaping up and rinsing off, over and over, losing track of time and how the water was actually burning my skin a little now. I scrubbed the marks on my wrists from the restraints. I scrubbed the rope burns on my breasts. I scrubbed the red mark that went from my belly to my pubic mound. I scrubbed my neck where he had slobbered all over me. I scrubbed until the water washing down the drain ran pink. And it still wasn't enough.

After a while, I stopped, staring at my hands numbly, the loofa that had been white was now stained bright pink, and my wrists were now raw and bleeding. I crumpled to the floor of the shower, curling into myself, mindless of the now freezing water pelting me. I held myself and rocked back and forth, sobs ripped out of my gut so hard that convulsions shook my body. I threw up, the shower cleaning itself quickly and leaving no trace.

I reran the whole thing through my mind, unable to stop myself, the whole episode traumatizing me more than I had thought it would. He hadn't even raped me, hadn't done any real damage, aside from the jutsu, hadn't even gotten inside my underwear, and yet I still felt nauseous from the experience. I had heard about these sorts of missions before, of Kunoichi that had to take on missions where they used their bodies to seduce, even sometimes having to actually have sex with someone for a mission, usually to gather information, or to subdue a man into a very subtle assassination. But I had never thought that I would ever come close to having something like that happen to me.

It was the reason that sometimes female ninja, Kunoichi, were not as highly respected as their male counterparts, because it was assumed that they were "damaged goods," sometimes even going so far as to assume that just because they had been assigned that mission that they were sluts, and had somehow wanted it. It was a terrible double standard.

My thoughts swirled in my head, reliving the experience over and over, thinking about the unfairness of it all. And then I thought about Gaara, how he hadn't spoken to me much afterwards, and the inevitable conclusion shattered me.

I felt dirty, I felt shameful, I had scrubbed myself raw because if it. Even though I knew it wasn't true, that it was simply an emotional response that I would eventually be able to bury among all the other hurtful things in my past, I couldn't help it. And if I felt for the moment that I was dirty and shameful, then surely Gaara felt the same way. That must be why he hadn't spoken to me after the mission, why he avoided my eyes, why I saw him looking at me but would look away when I glanced over.

The pain from that was even worse, the familiar sensation of loss, the sensation I had experienced before, but so much more excruciating now, the sensation magnified, the thought of Gaara hating me more than I could bear. If he couldn't even stand to look at me now…

I shuddered, the sobs dry now, having long since run out of tears, my body still convulsing in long raking shudders. I choked, coughed, and sobbed some more. My chest hurt, literally feeling like my ribcage had been split open, my gut clenching in torturous spasms. I threw up again, this time mostly just water and bile.

The pain was too much, and for a short, brief, pure moment I was filled with rage, too much emotion soaking me, drowning me and I fell into a pit of darkness. I screamed, one long bloodcurdling note, and when my senses came back to me, I realized I had put my fist through the wall. I blinked sluggishly at my raw wrist sticking out of the tiled wall of my shower. I slowly pulled my hand out, and looked impassively at my torn knuckles which were now bleeding profusely, the tile having cut them pretty badly.

I simply knelt there, on the floor of my shower, and stared at my hands, going numb. All emotion seeped out of me, like the blood dripping off my hand and going down the drain, and I simply ceased to care. I sat there for who knows how long, hours, days, years, it was impossible to know.

I slowly realized that the shower had stopped, from the abrupt silence and the ceasing of water pelting my raw skin and I slowly tipped my head back, to see who had shut off the water.

I blinked slowly, not really comprehending the presence in my bathroom with me.

"What do you want Temari?" I asked hollowly, not particularly interested in the answer, but asking nonetheless.

She stood and stared at me in horror, her mouth opening and closing. For a moment I was confused, but as I glanced back down to myself, I suppose I could see why she was so shocked. The hot pink loofa was resting beside me, obviously not its natural color as a crimson stain bloomed from beneath it and slowly filtered down the drain. The skin of my neck was no longer identifiable as skin, but rather looked more like the raw meat that you would buy at a butchers shop, only not nearly that clean. It was messy and shredded, raw and bloody from where I had scrubbed it, and so were my breasts, though you could still clearly see the rope burns marking them despite my attempts to erase them from my skin. She probably couldn't see the similar raw scrubbing marks on my belly over the jutsu mark, but she could see my wrists, and the one hand that was still bleeding freely. With the lack of water washing it away, the blood had already begun to collect in thick scarlet streaks on my legs and pool on the shower floor.

I glanced back up at Temari, and she flinched. My eyes must have shown how empty I felt. She swallowed and reached for a towel, bringing it into the shower with her. She knelt next to me in the small, bloody space and wrapped the towel gently around my shoulders, showing a side of herself that I had never seen before. She was never gentle, mostly loud spoken, a little rude, bossy, and generable likable, but never gentle.

"Come on." She murmured and helped me to my feet, wrapping the towel around my waist. She dragged me out of the shower and over to the mirror. From behind my mirror, she pulled out my bandages and bandaged my hand, hissing when she saw the extent of the damage and pulling out one lone piece of ceramic tile that had stubbornly stuck around.

She glanced at the sizable hole in the wall and raised her eyebrows. Then she carefully bandaged my wrists, rubbing a little cream into them first, doing the same for my neck and then my chest, flinching when she saw the rope burns.

"What the … what are these from?" She asked, pointing at the raised strips of angry flesh where the bandages had viciously yanked and pulled in different directions. I looked down numbly.

"I wear breast bandages instead of a bra. He was very … eager to get his hand out when Gaara showed up."

Temari snorted, "I bet he was … bastard." She gingerly bandaged my chest and then my stomach when she saw that, wincing when she saw the jutsu mark, knowing how painful body jutsus typically were. I could see the horror on her face as she took in how low it went on my body.

After I had been swaddled in bandages, she helped me dress in a large baggy shirt and underwear and then gently prodded me into bed. Her blond, ponytailed head turned towards the door and then back towards me, her eyes obviously torn. "I have to go, but I'll be back later to check on you okay?"

I felt a little warmth unthaw my frozen chest somewhat, from her caring for me. "Thank you Temari."

She turned back to look at me, "You have done so much for our family, you don't even know. If you ever need help, I will always come."

I tried smiling, truly touched. She smiled back and then turned and left.

*Gaara POV*

Meanwhile …

Gaara paced in his room. He was actually pacing, he never paced. The novelty was lost on him though, the situation too intense for him to pay much attention to stupid details like that. He didn't even notice the sand mimicking him, swirling around the room in the same pattern he was pacing.

His mind was once again in turmoil, the events from the last mission running through his head in an endless repeating loop, driving him bat shit crazy.

When he had finally found her, after searching for hours, panicking more and more every minute it took him to find her, he had been relieved nearly to the point of crying. He had approached that little shack with apprehension, sending his sand in first to get a toe in; he let it trickle in the windows and around the door as he got closer and closer, but didn't give it any particular direction aside from that. By the time he was nearly on top of it, he already knew that Ren was inside, sensing her through his sand.

He had focused in on his sand, weaving his senses through the grains, trying to get an idea of the situation. He could feel the vibrations of a struggle, he could feel her voice, though he couldn't understand what she was saying, and he got the distinct impression of harsh metal on her wrists.

As soon as he had surrounded the entire building with sand he focused his will, sending it up the door and into the hinges, simply dismantling it.

He walked forward, and Ren's scent reached his nostrils, feeling like it punched him in the chest with the amount of force it hit him with. It was so strong, the salty scent of her sweat and of her tears. And even aside from that, her scent had changed, the scent of terror that he had become so accustomed to from his time as a psychopath, the panic sharpening her innate scent with adrenaline. And lastly, he picked up the coppery scent of her blood.

He felt Shukaku raise his head at the familiar scents and growl inside his skull, forcing the same sound out of his own chest. There was something different in the way Shukaku felt though, a violence not seeking the blood of the one he smelled, but rather wanting to kill whoever had spilt that blood. Gaara was shocked to realize that his monster, for whatever reason, was not thirsting for her blood.

Pushing those thoughts aside for the moment, he had pushed the door down, already in battle stance, ready to deal out pain and misery to the bastard that had dared to steal away someone precious to him. He had already felt his mind slip, his control over his emotions loosening, the tell-tale rage building within his gut.

When the door came crashing to the ground and he was presented with a scene strait from a nightmare, he had frozen, everything moving in slow motion for a long moment as he processed what he was seeing. Ren's wrists were indeed chained, to the headboard of a filthy bed, her arms pulled tightly above her head while the rest of her was stretched out on the mattress. He zeroed in on several details right away; the man's position crouched over her and in between her legs, the bare expanse of her pale legs, her shirt bunched up underneath her armpits, and the man's hand on her chest, inside her bindings.

He felt something within him snap, and suddenly for the first time in his whole life, his own bloodlust rivaled Shukaku's, who was roaring in his head, How DARE he touch what's OURS! He will DIE!

"HOW DARE YOU TOUCH HER?!" Gaara roared, echoing the strange words, but feeling them intensely. His rage grew, encompassing the whole room, that special ability of his to make others feel fear coming in handy as he immediately sought to terrify the man currently on top of Ren.

He stalked into the room, feeling the sand bend to his will to make the man suffer, the sand rising and constantly pelting him, whipping him with long tendrils of sand. He snarled, the sound low and deadly as Shukaku wrapped his arm in sand, happily lending him a paw to put a big hurt on this guy. It was the first time they had worked together towards any goal before, normally fighting each other for dominance inside his head.

Thinking back on the whole incident now, Gaara couldn't believe he had actually engaged the guy in hand to hand combat, punching him with his fist even, but at the time he had felt this desire to actually feel the damage being inflicted, with his own flesh. He had wanted to rip the man limb from limb with his bare hands, feel the bastard's blood beneath his fingernails.

The urge was one he had never experienced before, and even disturbed him greatly post-battle, the immensity of his rage shaking him to his core. He didn't know where it had come from, this strange possessiveness that had taken him over, driving him to protect Ren in such a spectacular manner. Even the thought of anyone touching her in that way … made him see red, in a way he hadn't for a while now. Perhaps not ever.

These feelings almost made him feel as out of control as he had at the Chunin exams, really making him wonder if he had advanced as far as he had thought. He had thought that he had mastered these urges, the need for violence slowly becoming easier and easier to manage. But this had brought everything back to the surface, disturbing him so much that he had been unable to engage in any sort of conversation during the rest of the mission, his emotions so unstable that he simply couldn't.

There was something about Ren, about the way she made him feel, that confused him to no end. For a while now, Gaara had felt these random pangs, a sudden longing to get closer to her, to touch her skin, her hair, to wrap her in his arms and feel the warmth of her against his own body. It was something he had never experienced before, something that he honestly didn't know what to do with, so he simply ignored it to the best of his ability.

That had only increased in frequency and intensity after remembering their joint past, the remembrance of the closeness they had once had nearly driving him mad with longing. Once again he had simply tried to ignore it, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. And now added to this were his new emotions, the feelings of possessiveness, even Shukaku going so far as to call her "ours." He didn't know what it meant, and again he didn't know what he should do about it.

It felt strange to be possessive of another person. Yes, he felt protective of his family, not particularly fond of the idea of Temari dating that pineapple head that was so obviously interested in her, even perhaps playing with the idea of threatening him, but he had never really felt possessive.

And then there was the rage, the blinding rage, even letting Shukaku in a little, when he had seen her hurt, afraid, tied up, molested, with tears running down her face and her voice so hoarse from what he could only assume was screaming that he couldn't understand her very well for a solid day afterwards. That sort of immediate intense emotional response was something he had not been prepared for, even knowing what he might see when going in to save her.

And he struggled with the guilt of knowing that he had failed her, that he hadn't protected her from this happening in the first place. He didn't know how she could possibly forgive him, and his chest squeezed painfully at the thought of no longer having her friendship.

It was all so confusing, he simply needed to gain some sort of equilibrium so that he could go back to ignoring all emotion, safely keeping Shukaku locked within his mind. He was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of Kankuro freaking out downstairs. Concerned, he made his way down to the kitchen area where he lingered, listening in to try and see if there was some sort of imminent danger that needed his immediate attention.

"I said I don't want to talk about it Kankuro!" Temari barked, sounding at the end of her rope.

"Temari, you have blood all over you! And you look like you saw a ghost, what the hell happened!"

Gaara immediately entered the room at the sound of Temari covered in blood. He took in her appearance, looking utterly frazzled, pissed off at Kankuro, but also extremely upset, almost looking like she wanted to cry. He had never seen her like this before. And yes, she did have splotches of blood here and there, but it wasn't hers. Gaara immediately recognized the scent of Ren's blood, Shukaku immediately coming awake again.

"What happened? Where's Ren?" He asked abruptly, causing his siblings to freeze and slowly turn towards the sound of his voice, which was a little alarming, even to him.

"Um, Ren?" Kankuro asked tentatively, confused why Gaara would ask that.

Gaara simply continue to stare at Temari, unnerving her visibly, which normally would bother him but at the moment, not so much. Temari shivered, "H-how? I mean…what makes you think we know where Ren is?"

Gaara glared at her, not liking the unanswered question. "You have her blood on you so I'm assuming you were just with her."

Kankuro looked from Gaara back to Temari, "Huh? Ren's blood?"

"H-how did you know it was hers?" Temari muttered, looking disturbed.

"I can smell it, didn't you know?" Gaara rumbled, stalking further into the room, his revelation making both siblings back up a step and swallow.

"Uh, that's kinda gross man." Kankuro muttered, wrinkling his nose.

Gaara didn't bother paying him any attention, all of his focus on Temari. "Right." She laughed nervously, reaching back to rub her neck. "Well, I went over there to check on her, after hearing about what happened and …uh …" She trailed off, looking disturbed again.

"Is she hurt?" Gaara cut to the chase.

"Um, well … not badly …" she trailed off again, but continued when Gaara's glare amped up its threat, "Look, what I saw was … well it was bad, but it's her business … it would be a betrayal of her privacy for me to tell you."

Gaara scowled, but couldn't think of a reply to that. So he simply nodded and went back up to his room to try and get himself under control again, fighting the urge to go over to Ren's apartment.

Ren POV

After several days of moping, lying in bed depressed, and feeling generally miserable and sorry for myself, I decided that today would be a good day to attempt to try eating again. So I made myself a bowl of rice, something nice and bland that probably wouldn't disrupt my delicate digestive balance. There was still some stomach upset when I reintroduced the concept of food, but we worked it out with only some cold sweats and groaning, and thankfully no throwing up.

It was good to be able to keep something down, and after a little while it helped me to feel better, the gnawing pain in my stomach easing. As I was slowly attempting another bowl there was a tentative knock on my door. My eyes went to the door, but I didn't get up to see who was there, simply not in the mood for company. When I didn't respond right away, whoever it was simply let themselves in. I relaxed when I saw that it was only Temari.

"Damn it Temari. You scared me, how in the heck did you get in here?" I grumbled, not unhappy she was here, but still a little put out.

She just grinned and shrugged coming over to sit in front of me, analyzing me. "Well you look like crap …" she said sourly. I tsked and glared at her. "But still better than last time, so I'm glad." She continued matter-of-factly.

"Um, thanks I guess?" I said, not really sure what to make of her appraisal.

"Rice?" She muttered, looking at what I was eating, and knowing me well enough to know that I never ate plain rice.

"It seemed safe. I haven't really eaten much lately so I didn't want to risk it." I shrugged. She scowled.

"You haven't been eating?" She repeated ominously and I hurried to point out that I was, in fact, eating at this very moment, sensing the threat of force feeding from her tone. She calmed down and sat with me for a while, just chatting about inane stuff.

After a while she mentioned off-handedly, "Gaara was worried by the way, when I came home last time with your blood on me." She closely watched my response.

I froze, not sure how to respond.

I swallowed the lump in my throat, "Uh, I don't think he would be worried about me." I mumbled, not seeing how he could be when he was so obviously disgusted by me. A shudder worked its way through me at the thought and I felt a dangerous clenching in my stomach that signaled the conversation needed to end … now. Unless I wanted to lose my precious lunch.

"Why would you say that? Of course he's worried! He cares about you!" Temari responded, sounding almost indignant.

I flinched, the words wonderful to hear, but so painful given how I was sure I knew how he really felt. "No Temari, he doesn't. Maybe … he did at some point, but not now." I swallowed the bile rising up my throat, and pushed myself away from the table, not interested in throwing up here if that's what was going to happen.

Temari kept pushing me, following me away from the table, her persistence aggravating. "What makes you think so? It's so obviously that he l…"

I cut her off, not wanting to hear the end of that word, not willing to put myself through that kind of pain again. "STOP! Just stop Temari. I can't…just…stop." I shuddered, my body folding in on itself, my stomach clenched to the point I had to curl inwards. I leant one hand against the table to brace myself.

"Ren! He does! He does care!" She yelped, reaching out to put her hand on my shoulder.

I batted it away violently and stood up to glare at her, reaching my limit. "No he DOESN'T! For fucks sake Temari! He didn't speak to me the whole way home after … after that. He couldn't even look at me!"

I turned away from her, feeling that pain again, and my stomach attempted to send my lunch an abrupt eviction notice, a physically painful heave making me slap my hand over my mouth and grip my stomach with the other hand. I swallowed, grimacing, but I really didn't want to throw up again, especially not in front of Temari.

Temari flinched, and then stood blinking in shock for a moment. "So you think…"

I sent her a pointed glare, hating that she was making me say it. "He is obviously disgusted by me. Why would he be worried about me?"

She blinked some more, still shocked. Her mouth opened and closed, but no words came out for a while. I sighed and decided to go lie down, the cramps in my stomach easing up enough that I felt confidant I could hold things down, but it was still unpleasant. I carefully lowered myself onto my mattress, and then rolled onto my side, away from Temari so she wouldn't see the tears.

She quietly left and I breathed a sigh of relief, simply wanting to be alone for a while.

Gaara POV

Gaara was currently eating some lunch he had bought from his favorite food vendor and was walking towards the house when Temari came barreling from a roof top and landed next to him. He didn't react surprised as most people would, instead he simply slid her a questioning glance out of the corner of his eye. She grabbed his arm, making his eyes widen from the surprising physical contact, and dragged him the last few feet and into the house, slamming the door after they entered. Gaara quickly swallowed his last bite, coming dangerously close to choking on it, and questioned, "Temari what…?"

She interrupted him, not even letting him finish his question. "You…you emotionally constipated jackass!" Her outburst drew the attention of Kankuro, who appeared from nowhere and gaped at her before sputtering in both humor and horror. "Do you know what you did?"

Gaara, who was about as close to gaping as he had ever gotten, his eyes wide open and his mouth parted slightly, simply stared at her, thinking it was obvious that no, he did not know what had her so upset.

"You made Ren think that you are disgusted by her!" She shouted, and Kankuro looked helplessly confused while Gaara suddenly felt like the world had tilted at a strange angle.

He inhaled, "How exactly did you come to this conclusion?" He questioned, still feeling unbalanced and a little lightheaded.

"She told me." She said somberly, crossing her arms and glaring. He swallowed thickly and took a shaky step backwards so he could lean against the door. The idea that Ren thought he felt something like disgust for her was … unthinkable.

"Did she tell you why?" He mumbled, his voice muffled by his hand on his face.

"She said that you wouldn't talk to her, wouldn't even look at her on the way home. Of course she would think that! She was nearly raped Gaara! She feels...damn, I can't even imagine how she feels. But she obviously can't stand herself right now, and your reaction just made it all worse!"

Gaara flinched, feeling the bottom of his stomach drop out, the uncomfortable sensation new and painful. He felt dangerously close to hyperventilation, something he was also unfamiliar with. "I wasn't … that wasn't my intention!" He gasped, truly shocked by how little breath he had available.

"But do you understand how that would make her feel? Do you know why I came home covered in her blood? I found her in the shower, after she had scrubbed herself raw, punched a hole in her wall, and had been sitting there god knows how long because the water was ice cold." Temari swallowed thickly, shivering as she remembered it and imagined what her friend had been feeling to make her do such things. "She probably feels … dirty, like somehow it was her fault. Maybe she feels weak, that she couldn't protect herself. And she thinks you feel the same way, which might actually be hurting her now more than anything else. She nearly threw up today when I talked about you."

Gaara could understand that sensation, feeling distinctly queasy at the moment himself. "How do I fix it?" He demanded, panting.

Temari blinked, surprised that he was actually asking for advice, the first time as far as she knew. "Well … give her a couple of days to get herself together, and then go tell her you don't hate her."

Gaara nodded, settling in for a few very uncomfortable days as he waited.

End Chapter 36

Author's Note

Sorry guys, I know it was rough, just a little longer and then things will work out, I promise, just hang in there with me.

Music

Lost Forever by Tom Player (emotional backlash)

Love Lost by Mattia Cupelli (emotional backlash)

Crucible by Audiomachine (Gaara POV)

Soul Battles by Ryan Taubert Music (Gaara thinking about Ren)

False King by Two Steps from Hell (distracted by Temari and Kankuro)

Breathe by Two Steps from Hell (Ren POV)

Dark Hero by Silver Screen (Temari mentions Gaara)

Hurt by Thousand Foot Crutch (Gaara POV)