Lost and Found
By: Junsui Kegasu
A/N: ……………
Disclaimer: . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Kankurou, Temari, and Neji started walking back from school about fifteen minutes after the place cleared. They had been stalling for time, as Temari and Kankurou knew just what Gaara was doing at home and decided it was a good idea – Neji only needed to know what was going on, he didn't need to see the extent of their father's alcoholism.
Neji, keeping Gaara's bag firmly shouldered, was utterly confused. It was just a mess, he wouldn't mind. His own house could get really messy, too, when the butlers didn't clean up. Hanabi was an extremely messy little kid.
Something told him that this was more than a normal mess, though, or Gaara wouldn't have been so adamant about it. It was so strange for him to have done that…part of Neji knew, sadly, that it didn't happen too often, based on Kankurou's words, but at the same time, he was slightly (and only very, very slightly) disgruntled that he had been refused.
How bad was this 'mess', anyways? Neji was just itching to get there and start their date, whether it was just studying for a test or not! They were on the street, now, just not on the block…just a little further…
Kankurou and Temari seemed to be talking about something, but Neji wasn't paying attention, lost in his own thoughts and counting down the minutes until he would be with Gaara.
Obsessed? No. Just waiting for this moment for weeks.
They had reached the end of the block, now. They'd be passing his house any moment and going around the corner…and then there was the Sabaku household, devoid of abuse at the moment and with a redhead waiting for him.
…There was something wrong with him.
They turned the corner, all in cheerful moods. However, Kankurou, who was in the lead, had no sooner set his foot down when he froze, eyes suddenly widening. Temari gasped, clapping her hands over her mouth.
Neji was unsure what was going on until he managed to see in via the gap in between brown and blonde spikes. A car in a driveway was all that he saw.
Wait.
A car…in a driveway…that wasn't just any old driveway…
That meant…
"Oh…. shit…" Kankurou breathed, pressing two fingers against his mouth. "No…no way…."
"K-Kankurou…D-d-dad's sti-still m-mad at y-you for…. for p-protecting us…" Temari managed, her voice shaking and reminding Neji very strongly of a female Gaara.
So, that's what had happened. Kankurou, after his greatest moment, was now protecting his siblings. Was their father that evil? Would he really take too much advantage of an open opportunity when Kankurou wasn't home?
Neji knew the answer to that before it had even finished passing through his brain: Yes.
Kankurou, however, appeared not to hear them and ran forward, blindly almost. Temari and Neji had no choice but to follow him.
Kankurou had been very happy that his normally shy and paranoid brother was making friends. He was overjoyed that he had gotten a significant other, Neji. (He was still miffed that the younger teen hadn't asked him!) Needless to say, Kankurou was almost in as much ecstasy as his brother and the teen behind him that was practically floating.
It gave him a surge of something warm every time he saw Gaara interacting with others. With Neji around, maybe that warmth would never go away. Kankurou would like that; the cold was beginning to freeze so bad it burned.
He and Temari had been holding a conversation about something, at least, he thought he was, he wasn't really paying attention to his sister, preferring to mull through his thoughts and for once not wince.
Thankfully, they had walked home so often that their brains subconsciously knew that route to their house from school, so neither of them needed to think about where they were going. Automatically, their feet turned them around the corner.
'And the best part of it all is that Dad-'
Kankurou stopped dead, even his thoughts. There, in his driveway…no…it must've been another car…
But who else on their street drove a black car that clean and new looking? No…he was home…
"Oh…. shit…" he managed, as if notifying the two behind him what was going on. A sudden wave of nausea came over him. He hadn't been there. He couldn't protect him.
Temari appeared to notice the problem (no, it was past that, this was a disaster!) too and said something in a stammering voice, but Kankurou couldn't hear her.
'I can't believe it…oh, god no…I can't believe…there's no chance he'll be okay…Dad's so pissed with him…with all of us…but he takes it out on him…what if he's dead? What if Dad killed him and it's my fault because I wasn't there to protect him?'
He suddenly forgot there were two other teenagers behind him, one petrified and one confused, but sensing the feeling of dread and ran. He needed to know that Gaara was at least alive…he could only hope that he wasn't worse than dead. He wouldn't be able to live with the guilt of knowing his brother was broken beyond repair and it was his fault.
As soon as he had gotten to the steps, the door opened, and from it emerged his father. He looked clean and crisp, as if nothing that involved unnecessary force or violence had happened, but Kankurou knew that was all a lie.
Seeing his older son seemed to humor the man. He smirked, brushing past the brunette, being sure to knock their shoulders as hard as he could.
"HE BETTER BE ALIVE!" Kankurou blurted out, his fear taking over.
"Oh, he's alive. I'm sure of that," was all he told him before getting into his car, starting it up and driving off, screeching down the road. Normally, that tone in his father's voice didn't scare Kankurou one bit, but for some reason, he felt a frozen mortification start at his stomach, rising up his throat in the form of bile.
He swallowed the stinging substance, not bothering to wince at the burn in his throat when it went back down, dashing into the house. He heard Temari and Neji behind him and screamed blindly, "Temari, check this floor, I'll take the basement, and Neji upstairs!"
Kankurou zoomed to the basement steps, his heart thudding loudly in his ears, throwing open the door. Eyes widening, he swore loudly, unable to believe it and ran down, banging the door shut.
Gaara didn't even register when his father left the room, too blinded by pain to notice much of everything at all. If he moved at all, pain would shoot through him, especially from in between his legs.
Why did it hurt this much? He had been through all kinds of pain, and he knew he had a pretty high tolerance of it, being able to hold in screams until the very end, but this…this had hurt so much…
Trying to ignore the stabs of pain shooting up and down his exhausted body, Gaara dragged himself across the room, stopping in front of a picture frame that lay on the ground, the glass cracked. His father had thrown it at him when he was done, or at least, he thought so, and Gaara hadn't had a chance to see what it was.
Now, his face hovering merely six inches from the glossy, but flawed surface, he could see it fully. It had been taken years ago, before any of them had been born, on his parents' wedding day, to be exact.
The two adults in the picture looked so happy, his mother smiling that grin of hers that said she was the happiest woman alive and his father smiling in the way Gaara knew he'd never see again; he had hardly seen it when it was used. His father didn't smile all that often.
Still…the happiness…he could almost see why his auburn-haired tormentor would throw it across the room. The smiles were painfully happy, reminders of the past that can never be recalled.
And it had been his fault. There was no denying it anymore; it had been literally pounded into him. This time, in more ways than one. A feeling of self-hatred rose through him, and suddenly, out of compulsion, his fist was slamming into the glass, shattering the fragile cover protecting a mere memory.
In the explosion of glass, sand came too, protecting his white-knuckled (though it could hardly be distinguished from the rest of his hand)fist from being damaged. Ignoring it, Gaara reached around him, blind, grabbing an extra jagged piece and with a shaking arm, raised it high above his wrist, bringing it down sharply.
Again, a wave of sand rose up, protecting him from himself.
"L-LET ME!" he demanded, raising his fist again, which shook worse than the first time.
What the fuck? Kid! Stop it! You're not doing anything!
"N-NO! Wh-why…?" he asked, his voice breaking into a sob, turning his face into the rough carpet and sobbing, bringing his arm up and slamming it back down, each attempt doing nothing more than the last. It was as if he was hoping to penetrate the sand.
KID, STOP IT!
A rope of sand snaked up Gaara's arm, grabbing his wrist and keeping it suspended, unable to crash down into his still unscathed wrist.
I'm not stupid; you're not doing anything!
"WH-WHY? YO-YOU LET HIM HIT ME! L-LET ME H-HIT ME!" he screamed in between sobs, fighting the gritty substance holding him back.
Yeah, and are you dead? No! You'll kill yourself!
"Th-that's the point…I w-want to die…" Hysteric sobs had calmed to a stammering whisper, Gaara's strength leaving him as he sunk into the carpet, feeling his chest restrict, but not caring.
Neji wasn't sure what had happened, but obviously, it was bad. Kankurou and Temari seemed to be freaking out over it, and assuming that Gaara must be very hurt, he did too, running upstairs as fast as he could. The first door to check was Temari's room, so he threw the door open.
Nothing. He closed it with a bang, running to Kankurou's room, making a quick scour of the mess.
He heard it then.
"WH-WHY? YO-YOU LET HIM HIT ME! L-LET ME H-HIT ME!"
Was that Gaara? The voice had come from across the hall. Part of Neji was relieved because he knew that the redhead was alive now…but something told him he might as well be worse than dead…
Slowly, and swallowing the lump in his throat, he made his way across the hall. He almost didn't want to see what was behind that door; the last closed door. The bathroom was open. This room was the last option.
He heard sobs, and they only ripped his heart further, making one solitary tear find its way to his chin. With shaking hands, Neji turned the doorknob, expecting the worst.
But there was no blood on the walls, not a lot of blood at all, actually. The only blood was…a trail from about the center of the room, where is was a blotch against the carpet, trailing to…
"Oh, god…" Neji breathed, having to turn away. Lying, face down and completely nude was Gaara, a thin rope of sand around his wrist and littering the floor.
Sand.
My brother isn't exactly the most normal person in the world. No, I'm serious. The only way he was going to live was to put a demon inside of him. Go ahead, don't believe me, but that's the truth. There was apparently this scroll that told of a demon that could give its human vessel extreme power and good health.
The demon incarnate…that's why there was sand everywhere…Cautiously, Neji tiptoed into the room, kneeling over Gaara's heaving frame. With shaking, hesitant arms, he reached out to roll him over. However, just as his hands barely ghosted the smaller boy's skin, Gaara gasped, jumping.
"D-DON'T TOUCH ME!"
Neji bit his lip, retracting his hand shakily. He didn't want to upset Gaara any more than he already was, but one look at how the boy told him how bad he was breathing.
Asthma.
"G-gaara…" he started. "Gaara…it's me…it's Neji…" He needed to get onto his back. It would be easier for Gaara to breathe and for himself to survey the damage.
These words, however, didn't seem to do much.
"N-NO! D-DON'T TOUCH ME! I'm…I-I'm…di-disgusting…" He sounded like he would've continued to scream, but his voice gave out on him, reducing him to a pathetic sobbing fit into the carpet.
That rough material must not have felt good against wounds Neji was sure adorned his small frame. Knowing that there was no chance of touching Gaara without the younger teen freaking out, Neji decided to look over what he could.
Pale eyes raked down over Gaara's body, noticing two prominent, finger-shaped bruises on his hips, either side, and where the blood was coming from.
He couldn't help it. Turning to the side, Neji heaved, vomiting what he had eaten for lunch. There was no way…no way…
Gaara was practically worse than dead…
And he would be dead if Neji didn't manage to flip him over. He was lying in such an angle that was hindering his breathing, which was already shallow, most likely from asthma.
Determined to not let the redhead's little cries throw him off, Neji approached again, reaching out and placing a hand gently on Gaara's side. Trying very hard to ignore Gaara's whimpering pleas for him to stop, Neji rolled him over quickly; almost wishing he hadn't at the sight.
Gaara's front was ten times worse than his back, or at least his face was to Neji. Tears continued to pour down a trail traveled many times before, soaking his face and making his eyes almost glow red.
"P-please…please d-don't look at me…" he whimpered, sounding so pathetic, Neji felt his own tears start to fall.
Or had they been there for a while? He couldn't tell.
"Gaara…Gaara, I'm so sorry," he whispered, reaching out to brush the shining wetness from the redhead's face.
"N-NO! D-DON'T TOUCH ME!" Gaara screeched, attempting to back away from him, but only succeeding in slamming his head into a wall. He didn't bring his hands up to hold his head in anguish, or even cried.
No, Neji decided that would've been better. Instead, he coughed.
ASTHMA.
Neji hoped he would just stop, but he didn't, each cough wracking his frame, jarring him in a way that must've been utter agony to his already-wounded body. Without thinking, Neji called out for help.
"K-KANKUROU!"
Kankurou was going into frenzy. Whenever Gaara had done something exceptionally 'bad', their father would take him down here. Normally, Gaara avoided being 'bad' at all costs, so it was rare, but Kankurou had a feeling that the redhead had been severely punished.
He wasn't down here at all, though. That's what scared Kankurou. He didn't know where else to look. His mind was panicked; he couldn't even think of looking elsewhere.
He had torn up the basement in his haste to find Gaara, knocking over the washing machine, even. But still, amongst the steel-gray and dust, there was no splotch of red, either signifying hair or blood.
He had hoped for the former at first, but now, he was desperate to be overjoyed to find the latter, too. He needed to find his brother. Instinct (and the look on his father's face) told him that Gaara was injured…possibly beyond repair.
During a lull in his search, in which he paused for frantic thought, a noise rang through the house.
"K-KANKUROU!"
Neji. It was Neji. Neji was upstairs. Sprinting up the basement stairs, and not caring when he cut his foot on the sharp metal edge lining the stairs, he darted up the stairs, unsure where to go next.
"Neji?" he called, his voice wavering.
"In here!"
The voice had come in the direction of his father's room.
Oh, god no…not there…
Anywhere but there…none of them had ever been punished in there…it must've been something horrible…something…something unfixable…
Slowly, he stepped into the room, his heart thudding in his ears, afraid of what he'd find. Surprisingly, his suspicions had been exaggerated, Gaara was not dead, and he didn't look too maimed in any way.
But…
Oh, god…
The realization struck him then and he crashed to his knees, one hand coming up to guard his mouth, as if to act as a levee for the bile rising in his throat. It took him just a second to realize that Neji was sobbing and Gaara was coughing.
…Coughing…
"Shit, he's having an asthma attack!" he cried, deciding to put the trauma of what had so obviously happened away for later. "TEMARI!" he screeched. "TEMARI, WHERE THE HELL IS YOUR INHALER?"
He was panicking; he didn't know what to do. What if it didn't work? What if it was too late?
A moment later, though, a slightly breathless Temari made it up the stairs, eyes wide with fear. "Wh-what?"
"Where's your inhaler? There's no time to explain!"
"I-it's in my room, on the dresser!" she told him quickly, rushing to get it. When she entered the master bedroom, she gasped sharply, the white device which was currently their Jesus slipping out of her hand and to the floor.
Kankurou wanted to comfort her, but he knew it would have to wait, because Gaara needed taking care of, and he needed it now. Rushing over to the hysterical redhead, Kankurou fell to his knees, touching his brother's shoulder.
He seemed to just freak out, as if he was stumbling to say something, but choked on his own words, only increasing the violence of his coughing fit.
"Gaara! Calm down!" he told him, not meaning to yell, but for some reason thinking that the noise would somehow pull Gaara from his hysteria.
Kankurou gripped his brother's shoulder firmly, but not tight enough to cause pain. He reached around and felt for the inhaler, grabbing it when he found it and holding it up to Gaara's lips.
With a sudden violence, Gaara pulled away, still choking and trying to breathe, not able to get anything into his lungs. Kankurou bit his lip. This wasn't working!
Gaara POV
It hurts...everything hurts...it never hurt like this before...please make the hurt stop...
Don't touch me! Please don't touch me! I'm too dirty for you, Neji; can't you see it? Can't you see my filth? Please…please don't touch me! Am I crying? Oh, god, don't, cry; Neji will think I'm even more worthless than I already am!
I don't deserve him…but I know I won't be able to live if he rejects me. Maybe…I'll die right here. More pain...will the pain kill me? Can I die now?
Wait…
WAIT!
BREATHE!
NO, IT CAN'T! Just…BREATHE! COME ON! I don't want to die! I didn't mean it!Temari…Kankurou…please... I don't want to die!
Don't touch me! Just stop touching me! I don't care anymore, I'll breathe on my own! I don't need help! DON'T TOUCH ME!
What's going on?
NO! GET THAT THING AWAY!
I won't suck…not again…I refuse…I won't do it this time! Get it away from me! No, no, no, I'm sorry, so, so, sorry, Daddy, please don't do it! I'll be good, I swear, please! Please, it hurt so bad don't do it again!
GET IT AWAY!
I won't suck! I won't let it happen!
Please…someone…save me…
End POV"Kankurou…Kankurou, what are we going to do?" Temari asked, tears streaming down her face. They were all crying, Kankurou realized when he felt the wetness leaving burning trails down his cheeks.
He had no idea…there was nothing he could think of that would help.
Well…
No…they couldn't…
But it had gone too far this time…no; he'd do it. It would end right now.
Looking up, his eyes shining with tears, he met Temari's panicked gaze. "We're going," he began slowly, trying to keep his voice even. "To call the police. I don't give a fuck anymore; it ends right now."
I'M SO HORRIBLEEEEE! AAAAHHHH! You all deserve to FLAME me for this I'm such a bad person, I'm crying! This one isn't as long as the other…but…I'M SO HORRIBLE!