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And the Beat Goes On
Chapter 13: Death of a Dream

Naruto curled a lock of Sasuke's hair about his finger idly, looking down at the sleeping boy. He was thinking hard, and yet, thinking about nothing at the same time. He sighed softly, and got up.

Sasuke mumbled something in his sleep and rolled over, sprawling across the bed. Naruto snorted. And people called him a bed hog.

He padded down the stairs, trying to make sure they didn't creak under his weight. He was fairly sure that they had gone to bed, but he didn't want to risk waking Itachi or Orochimaru. They were scary enough beforehand.

He wandered into the kitchen. He felt strange, walking around in somebody else's house. He had no idea where anything was. He rooted through the cupboards, looking for a glass. He was parched and he wanted some water. After a minute or two, he gave up in frustration.

He paused, listening to the sounds of the house. It was eerily silent. He knew his own home creaked and groaned in the nighttime, as a result of being old. Irrational fear gripped him then, as he realized that one day, he was going to leave his house and never go back there to live again. He'd be stuck in another place entirely, somewhere set up completely differently and devoid of the hominess of home.

Sighing, he headed back upstairs, sans water. He was on familiar territory in Sasuke's room and it would soothe him to be back there. He paused in the hall, listening to the sleepy voices drifting from the far door. He ignored them and went back into Sasuke's room.

Sasuke was sitting up, glaring at him. His face had worry scrawled all over it, and Naruto could clearly make out the tear stains on the pale cheeks. "Where the hell did you go?" he cried, somehow managing to look incredibly worried and incredibly angry at the same time.

Naruto merely looked at him, confused, wondering why Sasuke was so upset. The dark-haired boy tore his gaze away and buried his face in the pillow. "I thought you left me," he said, his voice muffled by the pillow and choked with tears.

Naruto was scared. Sasuke wasn't supposed to cry. He was the strong one, the one who was supposed to protect him, and he wasn't supposed to damn well cry! "I just went downstairs," he said softly, Sasuke's distress making him feel incredibly guilty for it.
Sasuke sniffed loudly. "I thought you went away and you weren't going to come back. I thought you left me here to die alone."

If the truth were to be told, Sasuke had just woken up from a particularly terrible dream, wherein Naruto had left him, and he'd been alone when he'd died. When he woke up to the empty room, it was too reminiscent of his nightmare to ignore.

"Who said you were gonna die!" Naruto cried suddenly, launching himself onto the bed, tackling Sasuke, pinning him to the bed.

The dark-haired boy gritted his teeth and tried to throw Naruto off of him. "It doesn't matter who said it!" he growled.

"You're not going to die!" Naruto retorted, shaking the other boy by the shoulders. "You're not, you're not, you're not!"

"Yes, I am!" Sasuke contradicted, still struggling against Naruto's hold on him. "I'm sick and if I don't die now, I'm just gonna die later!"

Naruto hit him, his eyes burning with tears. He didn't want to talk about people dying, he didn't want to talk about Sasuke dying, he didn't want to talk about change. "It's not true!" he hissed, tightening his grip on Sasuke's shoulders.

Sasuke's eyes widened as he realized the blond's next movement. "Naruto, no. Don't -"

His protests were cut short when, despite his struggles, Naruto's lips captured his own in an open-mouthed kiss. The blond's tongue passed by his lips, delving into his mouth, and as much as he fought it, he kissed back, helping the blond to condemn himself to infection.

Naruto broke this kiss, pulling back and licking the saliva off his lips. Sasuke, unable to do much more than vent, grabbed Naruto's arm and squeeze until the blood came, oozing into his fingernails. "You idiot," he hissed, his voice acid. "You absolute, fucking, idiot!"

Naruto winced and tried to take Sasuke's claws out of his flesh. "Sasuke -"

"I've got hepatitis B, you, you!"

Naruto paused, blinking stupidly. "What?"

Surprised, he sat back, letting Sasuke up. The black-haired boy removed his hand from Naruto's arm and hit him, as hard as he could. "Fucking retard!" he yelled. "Now you've got it too!"

Slowly, realization seemed to dawn on Naruto. "Oh. . .oh, shit. . ."
"Gods!" Sasuke said, tearing at his hair. Blood laced in the black tresses. "How stupid are you!"

Naruto narrowed his eyes. "If you would have told me if the first place, I wouldn't have kissed you!"

"I didn't want you to freak out!"

"Oh, well, good job! 'Cause I'm sure as hell freaking out now!"

"Shut up! Just shut up!"

"Make me!"

"Idiot!"

"Asshole!"

And the fight descended from there into physical insanity, both boys brawling furiously. They hit, they bit, they scratched, they slapped, they punched, they kicked. They hurt each other in every way possibly, with one intent in mind: kill.

But that primal instinct was suddenly replaced by another, when they both lay on the floor, Naruto pinned under Sasuke. They were both bruised from head to toe, blood and cuts adorning their skin. The scent of blood was heavy on the air and it raised to the surface some primaeval instinct that had long been forgotten ever since humans became civilized.

Lips met lips with bruising force, each trying to hurt the other through the once pleasurable activity. He bit his lip, lapping up the resulting blood with gusto. The bloodlust and the sexual lust had come together to form some sort of hybrid.

His intent was to break the body beneath him, and once he was inside him, it was a much simpler task to attend to. He just needed the right amount of pressure to tear apart the innards, to smash his hips into a million pieces. . .

And he was forcing himself back up, gladly accepting the torture, because he knew that by smashing their hips together, he was hurting him too. His nails were buried deep in flesh, leaving long wounds that would surely become infected and fester.

A hand wound about his neck, tearing open the flesh, threatening to strangle him, so he kicked the boy on top of him, making him release his hold. In the split second of confusion, he flipped their positions, smirking down at him as he rode him.

Cruel fingers tore at his nipples, almost desperately and he could feel the same desperation building up inside of him.
It hurt, oh, how it hurt, but in the end, it felt so incredibly good. . .

The carpet was splattered with blood, their hair was matted with it and it seemed they still had blood to lose.

And in the morning, their wounds were crusted over, and the bruises were brighter than they had been the night before. Swelling had occurred with some of the wounds. Naruto's ankle had been twisted and was now three times its normal size, black and blue. Neither of them could remember quite how or when that had happened.

The sheets were stained with dried blood.

They looked at each other with bruised, swollen eyes and they knew what they had done. Gingerly, so as not to hurt either one of them anymore, Sasuke took Naruto into his arms, winding the sheet about their abused bodies.

- - - - - - - - - -

"Breakfast," Itachi said shortly, setting the dish down in front of Orochimaru so hard it nearly cracked.

The older boy said nothing, but glared at Itachi. Though it was true they'd succumbed to their need for each other last night, they were still mad at each other.

However, all thoughts of trivial little fights were put out of their minds when Sasuke and Naruto wandered into the kitchen, hand in hand, looking incredibly guilty and incredibly beat up.

Orochimaru raised an eyebrow. Itachi gave the pair a funny look, but said nothing, instead, returning to be angry and spiteful, just as the egg in the frying pan was, as it was currently trying to burn the one who was cooking it.

Sighing, Orochimaru fixed Sasuke with a look. "What happened to you, Short Stuff?"

Sasuke looked at the floor and mumbled, "I don't wanna talk about it."

Orochimaru looked at Naruto, but to no avail; the blond was just as silent.

"Some like it rough," Itachi muttered, not turning away from his self-assigned task.

Sasuke glanced up, looking utterly mortified. Itachi glanced over his shoulder. "So, I suppose he's got it now too?" he asked, gesturing to Naruto.

Sasuke looked away guiltily, and didn't say anything. Itachi turned back to the stove. "As I thought."
The remainder of breakfast was a terse and silent affair.

- - - - - - - - -

Iruka looked up, as somebody walked into the music room and gasped in horror.

Naruto waved weakly. "Hi, Iruka," he said weakly.

The brunet teacher was beside him in an instant, fussing over him, and of course, completely overreacting.

"What happened, Naruto? Did somebody beat you up? Did they hurt you bad? Do you need to see a doctor?"

Naruto pushed the overly-worried man away from him, shaking his head weakly. "I'm okay, Iruka. Really, I am."

"What happened?" Iruka demanded, looking sternly at the teenager in front of him.

Naruto sighed tiredly. "It doesn't really matter, Iruka. . .It can't be changed."

"What happened?" Iruka growled, placing a hand on Naruto's shoulder firmly, making the blond squeal in pain.

"Nothing happened, okay?"

Iruka glared. "Naruto."

The blond sighed and gave in. "Fine. Something did happen."

He paused, unsure of how to tell Iruka what he'd done. He glanced about nervously, then asked quietly, "Can we go into your office?"

Iruka looked mildly surprised. If Naruto wanted to tell him and make sure that nobody heard, it had to be something big. "Of course," he mumbled, almost absently. What could have happened!

Once the door to the office was tightly shut, Naruto took a deep breath. He was going to have to tell Iruka sooner or later.

"I kissed Sasuke and he got mad at me, so we had a fight and ended up having sex while trying to kill each other."

He let his eyes flutter shut and waited for Iruka to smite him. The hit never came. He opened an eye to see Iruka laughing at him. He flushed with colour. "What!"
Iruka smiled and patted his head. "That was a funny story, Naruto, but now I want you to tell me what really happened."

"That is what really happened!" Naruto cried.

"Uh-huh. Sure. Now, who beat you up?"

"Sasuke did! And I beat him up! While we were having sex!"

Iruka looked skeptically at Naruto, frowning. "Naruto. . .the truth, now please."

"It is the truth!" Naruto screamed, unable to understand why Iruka didn't believe him.

He stopped screaming for a moment and just stared blankly at Iruka. Iruka stared back. "Oh, gods. . .you're serious?"

Naruto nodded, feeling the tears of shame start burning at his eyes as he looked at the floor.

"Uzumaki Naruto! What did I tell you about sex!"

Naruto refused to look up. "That's not the worst part," he murmured.

Iruka stopped yelling, but only for a second. "That's not the worst part! What's worse than that!"

Naruto gritted his teeth, steeling himself for Iruka's reaction to his next words. "Sasuke's got hepatitis B," he murmured softly, so softly that when Iruka was silent, he thought it was because he hadn't heard him.

He glanced up at the teacher, who had covered his mouth with his hand, his worried eyes fixed on him. There was a long silence, before Iruka said, "No. It's not true."

Naruto bit his lip. "I'm sorry, Iruka. It's true."

He found himself swept up in the teacher's arms. Iruka nuzzled the top of his head, and he could feel the older man's tears dampening his hair. "Tell me it's not true, Naruto. I don't want to lose you. . ."

Naruto unravelled himself from the embrace of his guardian. "We're not sure yet, Iruka, but it's more than likely I've got it."

Iruka looked up at him, eyes still watering.

Naruto smiled brightly. "Besides, it's not as lethal as most people think! I'll beat it, don't you worry, Iruka! I'm stronger than I look!"

And with that wave of unfelt enthusiasm, he departed, heading for his English class, leaving Iruka with the overwhelming feeling that he was going to lose his favourite person and be left with nothing more than a memory of that grin to haunt him forever.

It was then that Kakashi whirled into the office. "Hey, Iruka, what's up? Naruto's all black and blue -" he started, but never got any farther because Iruka broke down then, sobbing into his hands.

"Oh, gods! Naruto!"

Kakashi, unsure of what to do about the over-emotional teacher, placed a hand, hesitantly, on the younger man's back, trying his best to be comforting. "Hey, hey. What's wrong?"

Iruka turned to him, holding tightly onto his shirt, trying to hide his face. Slightly surprised, Kakashi lightly wrapped his arms about Iruka, very unsure of how to deal with the situation, but filled with the overwhelming desire to protect Iruka.

"Naruto's going to die!"

- - - - - - - -

Kiba really didn't want to speculate on the origins of either Sasuke or Naruto's wounds. Additionally, he had promised Hinata that he wouldn't make cracks about her beloved Naruto.

He wondered what she saw in the blond fool that she couldn't see in him. He was just as loud, just as stupid at times and just as obnoxious.

He sighed and turned his attention back to reading his book. However, he soon found that he couldn't focus on the words written on the page.

Just what was it that Naruto had and he didn't?

Feh. Why did he care anyway? It was just Naruto. He didn't matter anyway.

The words were jumpy on the page. They wouldn't stay still, reflecting his own nature at the moment. He needed to get up, he needed to move.

He needed to stop thinking.

- - - - -- - - - -

The day was warm and sunny. Gaara snarled up at the sunshine, which shone down, mocking him in his gloom.
White, fluffy clouds scudded across the perfect blue sky.

No matter what he did, Naruto didn't seem to want to be his friend. No matter what he said, Naruto was still Sasuke's bitch.

Oh well. One day, Naruto would awaken, and find that while he'd been off-guard, he'd been tamed and sold into bondage. And then, the blond would crave the freedom he could have had, if only he'd listened to Gaara.

Smoke curled up from his cigarette. He leaned back against the brick wall of the school and stared at the sky.

He never felt more free than when he looked skyward, toward the heavens, which weren't bound by any earthly want, or need, or anything earthly at all.

Shoes crunched over gravel. He glanced back down and found himself looking into blue eyes. Naruto gave him a pained smile and Gaara watched the way the bruised and marred skin crinkled up.

He glanced down, following the lacerated limb that was Naruto's arm, finding where it joined to another and followed that up and back to the pair of obsidian gems that glowered back at him dangerously. It was obvious Sasuke didn't want to be there, for more than one reason. Gaara nearly chuckled.

He glanced back at Naruto, who was still smiling in an overly sweet manner. "I just wanted to let you know what goes around, comes around," the blond said cheerily, then leaned forward and forcefully covered Gaara's mouth with his lips.

Sasuke looked away in disgust.

Naruto pulled back and smiled bitterly. "I've got it too," he said and Gaara, still shocked, didn't need an explanation to understand.

Without a further word, both Naruto and Sasuke were gone again.

"Shit," Gaara muttered, tossing his wasted cigarette to the ground.

The wind whisked by it, rolling it around a bit.

- - - - - - - - -

It had finally happened. Everyone had known it would, eventually. But as expected as it had been, it left no less shock and no less grief when it did happen.
Sasuke couldn't bear to watch as the dirt cascaded into the hole, showering in on the coffin. It simply wasn't fair. It should have been him down there in that hole, not Naruto. Naruto should have been spared, at least for a little while longer.

It wasn't fair! He'd had it first, he should have died first!

He couldn't bear to see what a small and pitiful crowd had gathered there, to pay their final dues. Hinata, teary-eyed, had been standing to his left, trying very hard not to burst out in noisy tears. Sakura had been there, purely because she thought he needed to be comforted, or so he presumed, and she was holding onto his arm and occasionally dabbing at her eyes. Iruka had completely given up trying to be strong, and instead, was sobbing openly on Kakashi's shoulder. Kakashi merely looked on gravely, as if he were trying to be strong for Iruka.

Itachi and Orochimaru, who had since made up, were there was well, because they'd apparently considered Naruto "part of the family" as Itachi put it and Sasuke was sorely tempted to ask what family he was talking about.

Gaara was there, and Sasuke wasn't sure if it was because he wanted to torture him, or because he was sorry this whole goddamn mess was his fault.

The priest was the only other one there.

Sasuke turned away, not being able to bear another second of the funeral, in all its triteness, with the sky overhead heavy and threatening rain; with the wind whipping bitterly across the graveyard, howling between the headstones and whirling away the dead fall leaves like the souls of the departed.

He walked away. He knew it was rude, he knew it made him look cold, but that was how he felt inside; cold and dead. He didn't think he would ever warm up again and he probably didn't have very long to do so anyway.

He could only look forward to joining Naruto in the cold, November ground.

It started to rain, lightly at first, then the sky opened up and unleashed its icy tears in torrents. It was so cold it seemed to burn the flesh. The wind made his eyes water. He refused to believe that he could cry anymore.

He'd done enough crying, with Naruto tucked in his arms, trying to comfort the hysterical blond with gentle words and promises of a bright future, which he knew were hollow and no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn't believe them.

He went home, and went straight to bed. He locked the door, and shut the curtains, cutting himself off from the rest of the world and making his room as black as the night that had suddenly blanketed his life.
He curled up on his bed, wrapping the sheets about himself, seeking comfort in their supposed warmth and protectiveness, but finding none.

Bitter and alone, refusing to let his lover go, he started to cry. The tears dribbled down his cheeks, and down the bridge of his nose, making his skin crawl with the cold and uncomfortable wetness.

He couldn't get warm. How had he kept warm all this time? Naruto had been warm, so very warm and the very epitome of life. And now, he was dead.

Why did it hurt so much to lose him? He knew he wasn't sick anymore, he knew he wasn't suffering. So why did he want to keep him by his side and torture him? He knew he was going to follow in the coming days, if not by sickness, then by his own accord, so why did he miss him so much?

He couldn't look at anything in this room without somehow being reminded of Naruto. And it hurt to be reminded of him, probably because the loss was too fresh to be dealt with.

He'd been too young to really understand the consequences of his parents' death when the accident had occurred, and by the time he was old enough to understand, it had been an old wound, with a healing scab on the top of it, so it didn't hurt quite so much.

This wound was fresh and he understood, which was like picking at it until it became infected and oozed with pus.

He rolled over and shut his eyes. And even then, Naruto hid behind his eyes and haunted him. He wanted to remember Naruto so badly, keep holding onto him, because he didn't want to forget him, but it also hurt because he knew that Naruto wouldn't grin back up at him, even when he remembered how that grin was supposed to be fixed on that face he loved so much.

It was a reaction to the pain. He couldn't take it. He'd always been weak like this. It had just taken real tragedy to make him realize it.

The poison left a bitter taste in his mouth and it burned him on the way down. It worked quickly, infiltrating his bloodstream, working its way through his whole body, shutting him down, inch by inch.

His breath became short and his vision became bleary. His head spun, in a funny dizzy way he'd never experience before, and knew he never would experience again. He lay down, feeling tired, so very goddamn tired. . .

His breath stopped.

His pulse stopped.

Everything stopped.

He was dead.

A key fumbled in the lock and the tumbler clicked. The door to Sasuke's room was slowly pushed open, light from the outside filtering in and. . .

- - - - - - - - - -