Vindicated

Chapter 19: Reality

( h-r has been TOLD. Here u go Chinese Fairy (heart))

H-R hates her glasses! She would much rather wear contacts all the time and risk getting an infection! But her mama has spoken so she must wear glasses until she find her contact case…why's this relevant? Oh cause H-R can't see that well cause she no like her glasses so she's not gonna write review responses in this chapter gomen nasai!
He never knew when he became aware of himself. It was like waking slowly from a deep sleep, but when he was fully aware, the first thing he noticed was that his senses weren't working.

Gaara panicked when he realized he couldn't move or open his eyes—or maybe his eyes were open and he couldn't see. He tried to scream, but his voice wasn't working. The panic died down after a while and he started focusing on other things. Feeling slowly came back to him and he found himself lying on a bed and in serious pain. It wasn't Kankurou's bed either.

Panic rose again. He didn't know where he was. He didn't know where Kankurou was. He tried to call out for his brother, scream out his name. He felt no sound come out; he didn't even know if his mouth opened or not. He was scared and frustrated.

'Kankurou…'

Panic rose higher. No sound. No answer.

'Kankurou.'

He felt as though tears were jerking at his eyes, but his body had forgotten how to cry. His thoughts screamed in desperation.

'Kankurou!'

A voice.

He froze, straining his ears to listen. The voice was muffled and sounded like wind in a video camera. A low whooshing sound. It hurt his head. He wanted a real voice. He wanted Kankurou.

'Aniki…where are you?'

"What do you think?"

Kankurou watched the two men from where he sat on his father's bed next to his unmoving brother.

He had been in his room, head phones on, doing his homework when he heard Temari scream in terror. He heard her screaming sobs telling their father he'd 'kill him if he didn't stop'. Kankurou jumped up instantly, running as fast as he could, not having to think about who the 'him' was. When he got down to the living room, his father was standing over his youngest son, who had fallen out of consciousness, gently lifting him up off the floor. Temari was near hysteria as their father carried Gaara up to his room and put him on his large bed.

His father was currently in deep conversation with one of his friends, a man who had hurt Gaara himself before—who Kankurou found out the evening was a doctor—he'd called over to check on Gaara. Kankurou glared at them. He didn't think his father's friend was a good doctor. A good doctor would have helped him and tell his father that he was a monster that should be locked away forever. This man wasn't a good doctor. He was telling his father how he could cover this up—or rather, how hard it would be to cover this up. Kankurou did notice, however, that his father seemed uninterested in that and more on if Gaara would be alright or not. He even mentioned something about taking him to the hospital, which Kankurou knew would be an absolute last resort. He didn't understand why his father was caring like this. This happened once before though, but to himself, not to Gaara. He had done something horrible—he couldn't even remember what it was now, but his father had beaten him very badly, going so far as to burn his hands on the stove tops. His father had called a friend who knew some medical practice to help take care of him then. He never went this far if he could help it, but sometimes the man's rage was uncontrollable.

He pulled himself from his thoughts as he noticed the two men had stopped talking and were looking in his direction. He frowned when he realized they were not looking at him, but at the still boy next to him.

Looking down he saw that Gaara's eyes were partially open, but blurred and unfocused and a small noise was coming from his throat. Kankurou jumped up and knelt in his vision range, calling his name softly. Gaara didn't seem to be able to hear him. His face was twisted in fear. No. Not fear, pure terror. He was very scared and probably in pain as well.

Kankurou wanted to touch him, hug him, comfort him, take the pain away, but he was so badly hurt that Kankurou was afraid to do anything. The two men came up closer to the bed listening. The three listened for a moment before realizing Gaara was trying to speak.

"He's awake."

"No, shit, Sherlock," Kankurou snapped at the man.

"Shut up Kankurou," his father warned.

They watched as Gaara slowly blinked, his vision seemed to be improving. Kankurou started to say something, but his father pushed him away, out of Gaara's would be sight.

"Dad," Kankurou scoffed, righting himself again. "He'll freak if he wakes up and doesn't know where he is."

"He knows were he is," the doctor sneered. "He's in here more then you are."

"I'm sure he'll be comforted to know he's in his father's room—the father that put him in this condition—alone. He'll think he's done something wrong and he'll be even more scared then he is right now!" Kankurou said angrily.

"Listen you—"

"Kankurou?"

The sound was so quiet at first they weren't sure if they really did, but they instantly hushed and listened again. The name was repeated softly again, the familiar sound slipping from Gaara's mouth. It would have been a call or a frightened shout if it had been louder, but it was no louder then a whimpering whisper.

The two men wouldn't let Kankurou near the bed now; they bent over Gaara trying to get him to respond. Kankurou started angrily as the doctor lost his patience and grabbed Gaara's shoulders, yelling at him, shaking him hard, then throwing him back onto the bed and punching the pillow. Their father started yelling angrily at his friend, while the movement got a reaction, it was not a good one.

Kankurou watched, biting his lip as Gaara shriveled from the angry gesture, somehow moving, but, in doing so, hurt him self and cried out in pain. The smaller boy was near tears; scared of the men standing next to him and unable to move without hurting all over. Scared to the point that when his father reached out to gentle brush his hair away, Gaara cringed away, biting his lip so that it bled and whimpered, continuously begging for his brother.

Finally his father sighed and turned to Kankurou, who was standing near the closet door, looking worriedly at his brother. He jabbed at Gaara with his thumb over his shoulder. "Calm him down, I'll be back," he said, leading the doctor out of the room.

Kankurou waited until the foot steps on the stairs disappeared into the kitchen before hurrying over to his little brother.

"Gaara," he said softly.

Gaara's eyes snapped back open and he looked at Kankurou, eyes still hazed over, but relief swept over his expression. Seeing this, Kankurou pulled him up and wrapped his arms around his baby brother, holding him tight.

"K—Kankurou… I h—hurt…everywhere… make it stop… please…"

"Sh…I know it hurts, I'm sorry," Kankurou whispered. He almost started rocking him, but stopped himself so as not to hurt him more. He just held him tight, both comforting one just as much as the other.

They were still like that when their father came back up with more bandages and what looked like broth for Gaara to eat. He told Kankurou to leave the room so that he could take care of the smaller boy without Kankurou watching him. Gaara saw his brother start to leave and began making pitiful noises of distress. They father repeated the order and Kankurou shot Gaara a look of apology before getting up. As he walked out he heard his father coaxing Gaara to drink the warn broth and heard Gaara's whimpering apologies and promises to be good.

Kankurou bit his lip and turned back to look at the bed. Gaara was afraid of their father. He couldn't drink the broth easily because he was so afraid. Afraid of messing up, afraid of doing something wrong…afraid their father would desert him. Kankurou knew that even though the man hurt him, what Gaara wanted most in the world was his praise, but it made him nervous when doing things, trying to get it right. When Gaara was nervous, his hands would shake and he'd always mess up, or at least he'd mess up in their father's eyes. He watched as their father held his head up for him to sip the broth, but Gaara ended up choking on some and spilling a little. Kankurou hurried out of the room, not wanting to hear his little brother's near sobbing apologies, not his father's trying to pretend to care.

Kankurou sighed and walked down the hall to Temari's room. She hadn't locked it when she had gone in. He slipped in and found her curled up in her closet with all her covers and sheets she had stripped from her bed pilled on top of her. The sheets and blankets around her were soaked from tears and sweat. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying and she was having trouble breathing properly. When Kankurou pulled the covers away she looked up at him fearful then threw her arms around his waist, tears falling fresh once again, begging him to tell her that her baby brother was alive. Kankurou assured her that Gaara was alive and wrapped his arms around her and held her much like he did Gaara earlier. He rocked her back and forth as she cried, biting back tears him self.

The next morning, Kankurou and Temari got to see Gaara for a few minutes before they went to school. He looked worse then he did the night before, but he seemed less freaked out and smiled as they came in. Temari almost cried as she hugged him and gave him a kiss on his forehead. Kankurou placed a hand on his head and smiled down at him telling him to not be afraid to call him if he wanted to. As they turned to leave, Gaara's voice held him back.

"Kankurou?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't tell Neji…"

"Why not?" Kankurou asked, turning to face him fully.

"I—I don't…want him to worry…he'll be upset and…I don't want him to be…"

"He's gonna figure it out, you know," Kankurou said softly. "He's not stupid…"

"I know, but he'll come over if he knew…"

"What's wrong with that?"

"Dad doesn't like him," Gaara said, his voice barely audible. "And…I look…I look...disgusting…"

"No you don't, Gaara, you really don't look disgusting," Kankurou said, coming back to the bed. "I wont tell Neji, I wasn't going to anyway, but you know Neji wouldn't do anything mean about it, don't you?"

"I know…It's just…I don't want him to see me like…this…"

"It's ok," Kankurou said, moving towards the door again. "See you after school."

"Bye…"

Kankurou waved as he approached the two twins waiting for him. Temari ran off to her group of friends, giving Kankurou a quick goodbye. A quick glance at the twins made him almost laugh. They were wearing the exact same thing, it was almost impossible to tell them apart. When questioned they said they were going to switch twins for the say and be each other to see if any one could tell the difference. Kankurou just laughed and shook his head.

"Hey, Kankurou!"

Kankurou turned, eyebrow raised as Neji ran up to him.

"Dude…what's up with you this morning?" Ukon asked, staring with Kankurou at the Hyuga.

Neji's hair hung in unwashed clumps on his back and his clothes looked like he'd just gotten up, threw clothes on and ran to school—which was actually what he did. Ukon glanced from one to the other, then at Sakkon who shrugged.

"Where is Gaara?" Neji asked, worry plastered to his face.

"He's at home," Kankurou said shortly, not looking at him.

"What?" Neji cried, staring. "He hates being left alone! Why did you leave him alone? Is he sick? Is he hurt? Kankurou why aren't you—"

"Neji, shut up!" Kankurou snapped. "He's with dad. Stop nagging alright?" he added, then turned and walked into the school, the two twins trailing behind him looking puzzled.

Neji looked after them, completely crushed.

(2nd period-Art-Neji)

Neji looked sadly at the empty desk next to his. Gaara wasn't in school. Kankurou wouldn't tell him what happened. He was so worried he was making himself sick. He knew there had to be a reason Kankurou wasn't telling him, but still, Neji figured it would have been nice to at least tell him if he was okay or not. Class seemed dull without Gaara to talk to.

To his annoyance, he could hear some of the other classmates whispering about the redhead's many absences, coming up with crazy stories for reasons. Some muttered that it was better for him not to be here because he was a panda eyed freak that deserved to die.

Neji clenched his fists, resisting the urge to go up to the kid and punch him in the face. When he had calmed himself down he sat back and stared sadly at his own desk, wondering if Gaara was ok.

Kankurou frowned as the late bell rang. He sat down at the lunch table he and Neji shared, looking around for the Hyuga boy. No Hyuga was in sight so he pulled out his lunch and began eating; mentally convincing himself that since Neji wasn't here he couldn't badger him about Gaara. As he thought of it though, he wondered where Neji was and if he was just avoiding him.

He didn't know. He'd wait until seventh period to find out.

Gaara watched his father walk out of the room to go down stairs and answer knocking door. He was very confused. The man had been taking care of him since he woke up in the evening, feeding him, and changing his bandages and the damp cloth on his forehead. He had developed a fever over the night and continuously slipped in and out of a fitful sleep. He had woken up, nearly screaming in pain a few times, or panicking when he either saw where he was or couldn't figure out where he was. His father was always in the room with him either fixing something about him or sitting next to him working on his lap top. He didn't understand why his father was taking such good care of him, only yelling at him once, but the thought of him caring made Gaara feel so much better. He still couldn't move without pain shooting throughout his body and forcing himself to move would reopen some of the cuts that had been closed. His father had to carry him to the bathroom, because he couldn't walk on his own.

Once, on one of these late night bathroom trips, Gaara had gotten a glance at himself in the mirror and cringed, wishing he hadn't. He looked horrible, his face was covered with bruises and sweat from his fever made his hair stick to his forehead and dry, and then stick again. He couldn't wear a shirt because of how much it hurt to move to take it on and off. He looked pathetically small and could barely tell what color his skin should have been in that area. He closed his eyes every time he was carried passed the mirror now, not wanting to see himself.

His fever burned and his head hurt more with every passing minute.

He was hungry too, but all he could eat was broth. He hadn't eaten anything solid since his small breakfast of muffins at the Hyugas. All he could hold down was broth though. His father tried to feed him something more solid, but his stomach couldn't handle it and he vomited it all up. The wrenching from the contractions of his muscles jarred his whole body and the bleeding that had finally stopped started again, and it took his father forever to get it to stop. He looked so angry at the event, Gaara had a terrifying thought that he would leave and neglect him in the bathroom until Kankurou came home, but he hadn't left him or told him that he was bad for throwing up.

The door opened again, but Gaara couldn't summon the strength to turn his head to see who it was. He heard his father muttering something to the person who entered with him, then stepped out again. He heard the someone moving quietly over to the bed, and then gently climb up on it. Whoever it was laid down next to him and placed their head on the pillows next his.

Suddenly, without seeing the person or any words being exchanged, he knew who it was. He turned his face away as far as he could, not wanting to be seen. Gentle fingers reached over, touching his sore chin and far cheek, urging him to turn his face.

"No," Gaara whined, fighting the hand despite the pain it gave him. "Please…don't look at me!"

"Gaara…" the voice was gentle, no annoyance or anger, like always. Its owner let go of him and sat up. Two hands reached down and cupped his face, gently turning his head to face him. Gaara looked up, eyes shiny with distressed tears that refused to fall, meeting Neji's white eyes. "It's alright…"

"D—don't look at m—me Neji …please," Gaara pleaded.

"It's ok," Neji said softly. "You look beautiful."

"No, I don't."

"I think you do," Neji assured him. He leaned down and kissed the top of his head. He released him and laid back down next to him, propping himself up on his elbow. "I was worried about you. I couldn't wait until after school."

"D—Dad let you in?" Gaara asked.

"Yeah," Neji said, running his fingers along Gaara's profile. "How do you feel?"

"Not good," Gaara replied. "I hurt all over."

"I'll bet," Neji murmured. "Want anything?"

Gaara tried to shake his head, but stopped and said no.

Neji suddenly sat up and inched away from Gaara as foot steps sounded on the stairs and the door opened. Gaara's father walked in with a large mug of broth. He set it on the end table by the bed then walked away. At the door he paused and glanced back at Neji.

"While you're here make sure to keep his fever down," he said then shut the door behind him.

"You've got a fever?" Neji asked, reaching out to touch his forehead. "Ow…you're really hot." He picked up the cloth that had fallen from Gaara's forehead and rewet it in the bowl of cool water Gaara's father had sitting on the end table too. He wrung it out then placed it on Gaara's forehead. "You should take some Tylenol or something. Have you eaten yet?"

"No, nothing stays down," Gaara told him.

"Oh, well then, never mind," Neji said. Neji picked up the mug and tested it. The broth was warm, but not burning hot.

"I'm not hungry," Gaara said watching him. "You can have it. You missed lunch."

Neji shook his head "I want you to drink it. It'll make you feel better."

"I don't want it. I'm not hungry."

Neji sighed and set the mug on the window still. He moved over by Gaara's head then slowly and gently lifted him up and moved behind him so that Gaara was propped up against him in a sitting position. Neji tried to ignore the whimpers of pain from the smaller boy as he moved him. Gaara laid his head back on Neji's shoulder, his breath escaping in short gasps. Neji wrapped his arms around him.

"Neji… that hurt…"

"Sorry."

"But…"

"Shh…" Neji shushed, gently holding him tighter, but avoiding anywhere that had bandages. He picked the mug up again and held it to Gaara's lips.

"No…I'm not hungry…"

"Just a little bit…please…?"

He continued to coax him until he gave in and sipped the broth slowly. Neji paused every few seconds to give Gaara a chance to breathe. He drank all of the broth through Neji's soft praises and gentle coaxing. Neji set the empty mug down on the end table and sighed, wrapping his arms around Gaara again, drawing circles on the boy's stomach, his cheek rubbing Gaara's still hot forehead.

Gaara moved his head to look up at Neji's face and Neji smiled down at him. Understanding what Gaara was unable to voice, Neji leaned forward and kissed him, holding his lips longer then the previous night. To Neji's surprise and delight, Gaara kissed him back. It was a little clumsy, but it still made Neji smile. He pulled away slightly and let his hands rub the smaller boy's shoulders and neck. Gaara didn't move, savoring the feeling of relief on his shoulders. When Neji leaned down again, Gaara willingly kissed him back. Neji began teasing Gaara's lips with his tongue. Gaara pulled back briefly, looking away, as he remembered Itachi. Neji whispered reassuring words to him, calling him back.

"Don't push me."

Gaara and Neji broke their kiss as Gaara's father walk in glaring. He walked over to the bed and picked up the mug, giving the two a hard look. Gaara instantly looked away blushing, but Neji gave him an even look.

"I let you come in here," the man said. "Don't be doing that…on my bed no less."

Neji glared at him. "Go away," he snapped. "You're the one that did this to him. Give him some peace…leave us alone."

"'Go away'? 'Leave you alone'?" he repeated. "This is my house, and my room, and I'm not taking orders from you. I let you in because I'm getting sick of taking care of this pathetically worthless piece of shit."

Neji felt Gaara flinch in his arms at the hard slap of reality.

"I didn't want his brother here cause I know he'd be breathing down my back all day. You can take care of the shit now, since you care so much that you'd even kiss something that disgusting."

With that he turned and left the room, going down the stairs and out the door, getting into his car and driving away. Neither boy moved. Neji was frozen, mouth dropped, still staring at where the man had been. He snapped back to reality when he felt Gaara trembling and small drops of wetness dripped onto his arms, still wrapped around Gaara's chest. He didn't know what to say to him, so he held him tighter, burying his face in Gaara's hair, feeling like crying himself.