Chapter 6
The police station wasn't any different then any other police station you would see in the movies, or read about in books. Old scratched up wooden desks were lined up in the room, covered with papers and leaking pens and the occasional cheap computer to keep track of better records then the overflowing file cabinets in the back of the room. Lights hung above, old and yellowed from the constant work and sweat in the room, along with old desk lamps twisted every which direction to illuminate backlogs of work. Inside of the police station, uniforms weren't a requirement and everyone seemed to be dressed in a mishmash of old white suit shirts and fading khaki pants.
The cop in front of Gaara was no exception. He leaned back in his chair, a second away from kicking his feet up on the desk, as he scanned over the folder in his hands. The folder easily had Gaara's personal information in it and, no doubt, his record. The cop was scanning it for what had to be the hundredth time, obviously trying to figure out how to deal with the 'troubled' youth in front of him, who had just seen his father's dead body.
A second later he set down the folder and leaned forward, resting his chin on his hands as he looked at Gaara. "All right, so here's the deal… Gaara. We're going to need you to stay here for the night."
Gaara just watched him quietly. "Because you think I did it."
"Did you?" The cop asked, he seemed to simply be humoring him. His eyes had that bored and glazed look that one always gained after being at his job for far too many years. And he had the type of hair that spiked up, whether one liked it or not, either that or he had a severe hatred for combs. He looked like the stereotypical old school cop from any movie one might find on television.
"No." Gaara said simply. "He hated me. I didn't hate him."
The cop seemed to consider that for a bit. Gaara didn't respond to anything more then his questions, just watching him quietly. This was one of those people you never really could read, because he simply had nothing to read about him. The hardest thing to understand in a person's mood was boredom, because it left no clues whatsoever to grab. And that's what this cop was, he looked eternally bored.
"I'll tell you the truth kid, you're on our list, but that's not the real reason we need you to stay." He hesitated and looked back down at the folder. "We can't let you go back home, since it's now a crime scene and frankly-"
"None of the local homes will take me. I'll sleep in a cell for the night. I don't care." That wasn't exactly the truth. In reality, when Gaara considered it, he preferred the cell. Bars were something he'd seen more then once in his life and he considered them almost a form of protection rather then a form of imprisonment. Bars would have meant his father couldn't touch him, among other things. At the moment, with the current situation, being locked in a small cell in the back of the police station seemed much safer then being shipped off to some random foster home or orphanage with an extra bed that really didn't care too much about him. This wasn't the situation where he wanted to be surrounded by people who would think he was completely crazy. At least the police were required to take better care of him then some random person off the street, and he didn't need to explain himself to them or deal with random sympathy attempts.
"Well I suppose it's settled then."
Gaara remained silent for a while, not saying anything. He watched the cop move around a few more papers and sign something that looked semi important, then he stood up.
"He died the same way as Haku."
The cop stopped and looked back at him, raising an eyebrow. "The boy on the news?"
"It's the same. Right?"
There was hesitation, then he nodded. "I suppose you've been watching the news on that. Did you know him?"
Gaara nodded. He generally hated conversations with random people he didn't know, but needed to know more about what had happened to Haku and the others. Haku had come back. If Haku had come back, there was a possibility his father might.
The cop stood there, watching him for a second, then sat back down and grabbed a free legal pad and pen. "The last time you saw him?"
"Three days ago, at lunch. He was eating his lunch down by the fence that separates the two schoolyards. I met him the day before that, for the first time." "Anything else important you can tell me?"
Gaara shook his head. It didn't even occur to him to tell about the dream he'd had or the visions he'd seen. He knew the cop had his file right in front of him on his desk, and he would simply chalk up the strange images to whatever conclusion everyone else had written down on those neat little sheets of paper. He'd never seen his file himself, but he had a pretty good idea what was in it.
Finally the cop seemed to have everything written down and he tucked the legal pad under his arm with the two files, then motioned for Gaara to follow him. "It'll only be for a night. Tomorrow I'll go with you and help you pick up some things from your house, then we'll look into finding you a more permanent and comfortable place to stay until things are straightened out." His voice trailed off as they passed all the desks to a door in the back of the room. The large lock undone, Gaara was led down a hallway with several rooms with very thick doors and bars over the in the sides. Perfectly old cells, complaining of heavy sturdiness and a need to be replaced, but only when everything else had been paid for with the limited funds the station received. Obviously they still worked or they would have been replaced a long time ago. Either that, or no one had proven their inability to work yet.
The cop turned the key in the closest empty room, holding the door open for him. "There's a fresh pillow and blanket and stuff on the bed. I will have to lock the door, but we'll have guards patrolling to check on you." He paused and frowned a bit. "You're sure you're fine with this? I can find a boarding house."
Gaara shook his head. "It's a bed for the night. You said it's not permanent. I can deal with temporary." He stepped past him and moved over to the bed, sitting down on it and looking out the window which faced the city capital. There was a moment of uncomfortable silence, before the man closed the door and the lock made a large clanking sound, signaling it was locked.
"See you in the morning."
Hours passed by slow enough and Gaara soon lost track of time, just watching out the window in silence. He watched the cars rush by during the last moments of rush hour and then taper off as the sun began to set on the other side of the building, casting purple lines across his view. Light faded and the capital building was lit up, showing off its sleeping splendor for all who managed to really care at this late of an hour. People wandered by occasionally, hurrying off to whatever they were busy with. Soon the roads and sidewalks emptied, leaving the only thing of interest to look at being the skies above and the stars which were trying their best to be visible in spite of the city lights.
The police station around him grew silent. Occasionally he could hear people talking in muffled voices past the doors and every now and then a guard wandered down his hallway, looking into each of the cells. Aside from that, the cells were quite peaceful and Gaara relaxed, just enjoying the silence. The silence was comforting in its mindlessness and he savored every moment of it.
The light above him flickered, asking silently for a new bulb, and Gaara's eyes drifted from the window to the shadow across the small room. Like clockwork, there she stood, watching him silently. An ironic smile attempted to appear on his face and succeeded, just barely.
Gaara watched her back for a moment, then closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall, relaxing more as he hugged his knees. He wasn't tired and didn't feel like sleeping, instead he just tried to clear his mind of everything that happened. He didn't want to think about any of this anymore. For one night, at least, he wanted the silence and nothing else. He'd worry about the whole situation tomorrow.
Apparently, though, other beings had other ideas. A cold breeze danced across his cheek and slithered around, raising the hairs on the back of his neck. Gaara didn't open his eyes and just drew in a soft breath, only to cough loudly and have his eyes snap open as the sudden change in temperature made his throat squeeze shut in surprise. He opened his eyes and rubbed his throat, looking around the room.
She hadn't moved, but her image was jerking back and forth much quicker then usual, as if showing that she was nervous, or even scared. The movement reminded him of a scared child who'd decided to stand up, when all they really wanted to do was huddle in a corner and tremble in fear. Gaara frowned and moved to stand up, his eyes wandering toward the door.
He froze.
Staring back at him, through the bars in the small window, was the same thing he'd seen before. The dark black eyes lit up even more, seeming deeper thanks to the moonlight which shone almost directly on them. In the limited space he could see the tangled black hair swirling around the things head and the twisted mouth as it peered inside. Gaara shakily stood up and backed away from the door, his back hitting the wall behind him as the thing slowly phased through the door and into the room.
Static screamed in his ears as the thing floated more into view, stepping through the door as if it were open to stand by itself in the room. Gaara covered his eyes to try and stop the high-pitched noise that clouded his thoughts but that didn't make a difference. All he could do was stare and hold his ears tightly as the thing slowly began to move toward him.
"You're dead." The words slipped from his mouth as he winced and tried to back up more, in spite of the wall behind him. He had to move, he didn't want to stand there, but he was trapped on all sides. There wasn't a way out of the room this time and the world seemed to rapidly be closing in on him with each step the thing took. In mere seconds it was right in front of him and Gaara couldn't breathe. It was all he could do to stay standing there and covering his ears as his body desperately tried not to panic and failed.
It was in front of him. Right in front of him, barely a breath away, and each breath he took drew in stale and dead air, causing his throat to close up and his lungs to cry out in pain. Dead sound replaced the static and he couldn't hear a thing, momentarily deaf from the sheer fear that flowed through his mind as he stared back into those eyes. He was vaguely aware of his own lips moving, but no sound seemed to come out, just a feeble attempt that went unvoiced.
A twisted and knarred hand reached forward, each of the fingers protruding at odd angles as if they'd been broken from grabbing at things and being forcibly pulled away. The hand reached and touched his chest and then the scream ripped from his throat, hoarsely sounding unfamiliar as it echoed in the small room.
The cell disappeared and the scream rang in his head, making him more unsure if it were his own or Haku's that pounded between his ears. Flashes covered his vision, blinking the cell around him into nothingness from sheer pain and force.
Blurred faces leaning over him.
Pain coursing through his body.
Broken limbs.
Screams covered from laughs and jeers.
Cold metal biting into his side, turning everything red.
Gaara crumbled to the ground, curling up on his side as he gasped, trying to breathe air that just simply wasn't there. No matter how wide he opened his mouth there was nothing, just nothing at all and his body shook from the pain and stress.
He could barely make out the thing standing in front of him, watching dispassionately as he struggled on the floor. His mind dropped into a primitive panic and he started scratching at the floor and his throat, as if that would bring more air into his vicinity and stop the pain.
Numbly, in the back of his mind, he heard a soft sound, sweet in its tone. The panic faded, ever so slightly, and Gaara looked up in surprise. Now it wasn't the only thing in front of him. Now she stood there as well, for the first time in all his life facing away from him.
She stood between them. Protecting him.
Then the two touched.
Darkness shot through the room and shadows covered everything, light snapping out of existence. The dark was a physical force, ripping through Gaara, tearing away any movement he had left in his body. Silence surrounded him with complete darkness and there was nothing.
(Later)
Light faded back into being slowly and a soft moan escaped Gaara's throat. His eyes slid open and looked around the room, the blurred colors slowly melting into shapes he could focus on, despite the pounding in the back of his head. Slowly the old gray wall in front of him faded into view, cracks lacing the concrete bricks from age and wear. A couple places carried pockets of crumbling debris and just out of his sight was a scratching of what might have once been chalk, but wasn't completely readable now.
He could feel the cold floor beneath his body and the air around him was stale, dead. Opening his mouth he chanced taking a slow breath, only to be greeted with a stabbing pain in his chest. Gaara coughed hard enough for his body to shudder a few times, then managed to push himself up to sit.
He was in the cell. Alone.
Sunlight crept into the small room, sneaking in through the small window and slowly illuminating everything he could see around him. The bed behind him lay untouched along with the blanket and pillow which had been laid out. Nothing else in the room had been disturbed and the only thing around him that even hinted at what he'd witnessed was the small black burn on the floor in front of him.
Gaara leaned forward and touched the darkened concrete, sliding his hand over it. The area actually felt a bit warm and the burn was almost invisible, if not for the fact that he'd known that's right where both of them had been standing. He traced his fingers over the marks until he was sure he wasn't hallucinating, then sat back against the wall, looking around the silent room.
"… mother?"
It was dawn and the light was too bright for her to appear, but for one of the few times in his life he wanted her to. He needed her to. Standing up from the ground he grabbed the pillow and pulled the bed over, climbing up on it to reach the window. He ignored the pain in his chest as he stuffed the pillow into the window and tucked the blanket around it to shut out as much light as he could. Immediately the room dropped into darkness and he turned around, looking in each of the darker corners.
"Mother?"
He almost never called her that, but she always seemed to appear around him when he was alone and there was darkness. He knew who she was, even if he didn't know why she always followed him. So it would make sense that she would appear in the darkness if he called, still he'd never tried it before.
Gaara stepped down off the bed to the floor and over to the burn, his eyes flickering from shadow to shadow. "Mother? Mother?"
Silence greeted him, no one answering back, and deep in his stomach an empty feeling began to grow. She wasn't answering.
She wasn't going to answer.
She was gone.
Gaara turned, biting his lower lip as he stepped into one of the shadowed corners. Closing his eyes and concentrating, he screamed in his mind, calling out her name. He waited for something, anything. Any type of sign that could show he wasn't alone. But there was nothing. No roaring static in his ears, no cold feeling over his skin, no soft whispers in the air, nothing.
Just nothing.
Gaara shivered and stumbled back over to the burn on the floor, just staring at it.
She was gone.
She'd disappeared.
He'd spent the majority of his life wishing she weren't there, wishing she wouldn't haunt him like she did, but now to be faced with the actual fact that he might have gotten his childhood wish terrified him. She had completely disappeared the moment she'd touched the other one, both of them had. Both of them had left him alone.
He'd never realized how much comfort he'd taken from the fact that he could see things like that in his life, day in and day out.
The burn on the floor seemed to mock him, just barely visible. It was nearly gone, taunting him with silent promises of possibly disappearing, just like the other two had. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the small burn and yet he didn't want to look anymore, as his mind seemed to drop farther and farther into panic.
He was completely alone.
A small sound caught his attention as a drop of red landed on the burn, splattering in an uneven circle just at the edge. Another followed it, dying the floor just a bit more.
Gaara looked down and his eyes widened as he realized the chest of his shirt held a large dark and wet stain. He was bleeding… like he'd been stabbed.
Right where the blade had landed when it killed Haku.
