A/N: Oh look it's a new chapter, filled with all my glorified angst. I don't feel like a longer note today, so I shall continue on with the story. Oh yeah thank-you to my BETA!

Warnings: Umm the usual angst, and self-mutilation in this chapter. That is all

Disclaimer: Insert something witty/funny here, stating that I don't own.

Last time:

'It wasn't supposed to be like this. You were just supposed to love me. I didn't want any of this.'

Gaara cried silently.

"I love you," Neji whispered, softly resting his exhausted body onto Gaara, but those words were lost to the redheaded boy.

The only sound Gaara heard was silence.

Chapter 13: What I Wanted.

Kankurou slowly stumbled to the bathroom; last night had been hell. If this was Christmas, what the hell was fucking New Years going to be like? He felt disgusting. It was supposed to be the holidays; where was all the cheer? Oh, yeah. He remembered. He worked at a bar; people didn't come there to be cheery, they came there to forget that it was the damn holidays to begin with.

Such was the fact that Kankurou had to throw half the people out last night. One man in particular gave him trouble. He had insisted that some girl at the bar wanted to go home with him. Kankurou had seen the entire act, the way she politely told him, "No," to protesting violently, to actually kicking him. When the guy went to storm after her, Kankurou stepped in between and kicked him out. He did get him out, but not before being covered in sticky soda and cheap liquor.

"Stupid drunks." Kankurou slowly knocked on the bathroom door, but it was locked. Hearing the shower run, he figured he might as well go lay back down. He looked down at his poor pillow, now stained red. He hadn't bothered to do anything last night, not even take off his make-up. "Well, that's going to stain." Not caring anyways, he fell back down, sleep slowly reclaiming him.

He woke up about an hour later to the sound of Temari banging on his door. He could vaguely hear his name being shouted through the heavy wood.

"Kankurou! Kankurou, get your ass out here, now!"

He opened is door to find a wide-eyed Temari, make-up smeared across her face. It seemed she too hadn't bothered to take any of her stuff off from the party. "What?"

"Are you just going to let the shower run, or are you getting in it? You know, some of us would like to bathe." She smacked her dry lips together, trying to rid her mouth of the horrible aftertaste of alcohol.

"Look at me Temari. Does it look like I'm getting in the shower?" Kankurou leaned up against his door, while Temari took in the sight in front of her.

His hair was a mess, his make-up smeared across his face, the once intricate patterns he worked so hard to make destroyed. It looked like he had just woken up, actually. "Well, the shower's been running for twenty minutes. I never heard Gaara come home last night, so who the hell is in there? I didn't get an answer when I called out either."

"What do you mean? The shower was on when I tried over an hour..." Kankurou pushed Temari out of his way, and sprinted down the hall. "Gaara! Open the damn door now!" Kankurou had fully smashed into the door and started banging on it as loud as he could. "I swear, I will break this door down. Get your fucking ass out here!"

"What the hell are you doing? Let him take a shower! There's nothing wrong with that. He's probably hung-over." Temari walked down the hall, meeting her spastic brother at the bathroom door.

"When the hell has Gaara ever taken an hour long shower? You know he doesn't want to waste water. He doesn't like to do anything that might make him seem wasteful. Honestly, when do you ever remember him taking this long?"

"He used to do it all the time when--" Her eyes widened at the revelation. "Gaara! Open up! Please…please, just open up." Her voice became weaker as she slunk down to the ground. "He wouldn't do it again would he? He promised he stopped." She looked into her brother's eye, wanting reassurance that it was not happening again.

Kankurou stopped banging on the door, dropping his head down. He hand was still clenched tightly into a fist. "He already has. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, 'Ri. Really, I am. He promised me not to tell you. He doesn't want you to worry about him. He didn't tell me, I just saw it and figured it out." His hand was shaking now as he slowly pounded on the door. "Gaara, please open up."

"Why the hell wouldn't you tell me? That is definitely something I should know about." She looked up at him, but their eyes never met.

"He told me not to."

"But..."

"He begged me not to tell you. I couldn't tell him 'no,' 'Ri. You know I couldn't."

She let out a long sigh. "We still have to get him out of there. No telling how long he's been there. What if he's--You don't think he's…" Temari didn't even want to finish that sentence; she could feel the bile rising in her throat for thinking it.

Kankurou stepped back, bringing his foot up. "You might want to move."

Temari drug herself up and moved to the side, watching Kankurou kick the door in on the first try.

He slowly made his way into the bathroom, hoping that the scene of never-ending blood didn't grace his eyes. "Gaara," he spoke tentatively; the bathroom steam had long been used up, and not a trace of heat was felt.

Neji woke to the horrible stench of liquor covering his body. He attempted to wet his chapped lips, but it felt like ragged sand paper scraping across them. "I want water," he croaked out to himself. As he slowly sat up, the room began to spin. 'Stupid hangovers.' He flopped back into bed, eyes screwed shut from the bright light. Neji willed the unending motion to stop.

"You fucking up yet, yeah?" a voice called from the doorframe.

He groaned pathetically and turned over. "You're too loud. Shut up and go away."

"Maybe I should have said that last night when your friends brought you here, yeah. You were completely drunk, and on the verge of passing out, yeah. Should have just left you on my doorstep. Who cares if your ass would have froze to death, yeah?" Deidara turned to walk out slowly. "There's water on the stand, yeah."

Neji had turned around to answer him, but the blond was gone. He sat up slowly, not wanting the room to start it's violent spinning again. He sipped the water cautiously, trying to ease the unavoidable churning of his stomach. Eventually everything slowed to a stop. The room finally stood still, his head didn't feel like it was about to explode, and he was definitely not going to throw up. He thought now would be a good time to find out what the hell was up Deidara's ass.

"Dei, what the hell is wrong with you?"

"Nothing, yeah. It's nothing. I don't feel like talking about it, yeah."

"Well, just because you're pissed off doesn't mean you have to take it out on me," he snorted before taking a seat beside him on the couch.

Deidara moved over slightly, glaring. "You're my fucking problem, yeah. It's your fault, yeah."

"What the hell did I do?"

"Not what; who, yeah." He looked down at the floor, repeating the same thing in his head: 'this is not a relationship. I can't be mad.'

"What the hell are you talking about? "Who" I did? I haven't "done" anybody." He stood up from the couch inching closer to Deidara. "What do you seem to know that I don't?"

"Nothing. Just forget it, yeah. This conversation never happened, yeah." He got up, squeezing past Neji, attempting to make his way back to his sketchbook. However, he wouldn't take more then two steps before he was pulled back into Neji's chest.

"What's wrong? Look, I didn't mean to upset you, but I can't fix it if you wont say anything."

Deidara fell back against Neji's chest, hating himself. That stupid heart of his pushed him closer. Why couldn't his brain speak up for once? He was mad, but he didn't have a reason to be mad in the first place. Or did he? Life wasn't supposed to be like this. He had what he wanted, and it didn't matter to him that he was just being used. If that was truly the case then why did it hurt so badly now? He turned over burying him into Neji's shirt, mumbling softly.

What the hell am I doing? I shouldn't be doing this. I should be yelling at you. Screaming obscenities, cursing the day you were born. But it's not like that. I'm still here, leaning on you, relishing the sensation of your fingers in my hair. I wore it down today, just so I didn't have to mess with it. Neither one of us speaks for once; it's a comfortable silence. The steady beat of your heart slows down from the erratic pace; your breath is now controlled, softened by the comfort. I should be mad, I want to be mad, but I can't. As much as I would like to, I can't. Gods, I'm truly pathetic.

Most people pride themselves on being independent, but not me. I have what I want, and as much as it hurts, I think I'll die inside before I let this go, at least that's what my heart is telling me. As much as life sucks, and as much as I'm pissed off at you, my heart wont let me be angry. For a second my breath hitches, you're leaning down. Your lips press against my cheek. Honestly, I can say that it is probably the most single sweetest thing you've ever done.

I close my eyes for a second, just for the moment. When I open them and cast them toward the ground, looking over your shoulder. That's it. The reason for all my anger is back. I can't believe I still have it. Who the hell am I kidding? I save everything. Every one of my memories is in this home, forever etched onto paper. It's only one that stands out in the stack. The one I drew the day you broke up. It's him sitting on top of that hill. That's the reason I'm mad. You fucked him! And you're with me! Oh god, I sound like a fucking soap opera. I have to do it. I pull away.

"You fucked him, yeah!"

Neji stumbled back against the wall. "What the hell are you talking about? Who are you talking about?" But then he remembered. Last night was still fuzzy in his alcohol-induced head. "…Oh." He turned away. "Well, he wanted it. Like I was going to turn it down? You knew that you were just a convenience, didn't you? Why would you think any differently now?"

"You fucking whore, yeah. That's what you are. A fucking whore!" Tears ran down Deidara's face in abundance. This wasn't supposed to hurt like this. It wasn't like he was in love with Neji. Then again, they had spent a lot of time together. People's feelings change without them ever knowing it. Then again he had always wanted Neji. Now he finally had him, but he knew this wasn't what love should have been.

"I'm not a whore. You knew what this was when we got together. Why would you think it was any different now? I don't love you, I never will. I love Gaara. You were just something to help me forget."

"That's it, yeah! I should have left you to fucking die last night. Why the hell did I fall for you in the first place, yeah? You are nothing in my eyes. Get the fuck out, yeah." His voice was trembling in an attempt to choke back his tears. "What are you waiting for, yeah? Get the fuck out, now! I don't need this, yeah." Out of pure frustration he picked up the sketchbook and chucked it at Neji's head, "Now, yeah".

Neji scoffed at the infantile gesture. "You should really learn some anger management."

"Fuck you, yeah! Get out!" He picked up everything that had even a miniscule amount of weight to it and threw it across the room. It always failed to hit its mark.

Neji walked out solemnly, shutting the door on that chapter of his life forever. It's not like he cared. In the end he got what he wanted: Gaara. Maybe he would call him later. Then they could start over. That seemed like a good plan.

"Hey, Sasuke." Sakura lay wrapped in her lover's arms. "Do you think Gaara will be okay? I'm kind of worried about him, you know."

"Hn. Don't worry about it. He'll be fine. He's never really been that big on emotions in the first place. Well, ever since I've known him." He shrugged, and pulled Sakura closer.

"I don't really know. Did you see his face last night? There was nothing there, like he wasn't even a person anymore. Just blank." She rolled over to look into his nigrescent eyes.

"Since when has he ever showed emotion in them?"

"Well, maybe not in front of you, but I don't know, me and him just connect. I've seen it, but I have never seen that look in his eyes, ever."

"Stop worrying so much. You've known him for four months, maybe you don't know as much about him as you think."

"Hmm… Maybe…" but Sakura still couldn't get the image of last night out of her mind.

Sakura walked out onto the balcony, Sasuke in tow. She wasn't really doing much in the way of walking - it was more of a shuffle, stumble, and then Sasuke catching her before her face planted onto the ground.

Sasuke grunted as he caught her once again. "Sakura, you really don't need to drink this much, ever."

Sakura giggled slightly. "But you love me though. So you'd take care of me regardless, right?"

"Hn."

She threw her hands up in frustration. "'Hn' is not an answer, nor will it ever be! God I swear… Gaara!"

The smaller boy just turned away, staring blankly at the bench. He didn't see anything; Sakura didn't even think he acknowledged her. It was like no one was there; his mind was a blank slate. Sasuke had taken this time to pull Neji off of him, setting him on the floor, while Sakura took her jacket to place it over Gaara's prone form, small bruises already forming on his wrists.

"Umm… Sasuke, do you think you and Naruto can take Neji home?"

Sasuke sat there for a minute attempting to wake Neji up. Of course, Sasuke wasn't as nice as most people should have been. "Wake up. What the hell did you do?" He smacked him across his face a few times before his pallid eyes opened.

"Wha…? Huh? Oh, what does it look like I did?" Neji smirked at the dark-haired boy.

"You're just bad, Neji. Let's get you home. Gaara's asleep anyways." Sasuke sighed, having the slightest feeling that Neji wasn't exactly telling the entire truth.

Neji nodded slowly before getting up and walking back into the party.

"Gaara, do you want me to take you home?" Sakura sat down on the ground beside him, staring intently, waiting for some reaction.

"No… Just let me stay here for a little bit. I don't want to move." His voice never changed, the same pitch same speed. Sakura would have preferred a crying, sobbing, screaming Gaara to this.

"Okay." Sakura sat there, indulging in the silence. Waiting - wanting to ask the obvious. "Hey, Gaara?" She watched him turn to her slowly, never looking at her, but past her. "What happened?"

He voice held a tinge of bitterness. "I got what I wanted." He turned over, eyes reflecting the emptiness of the night sky.

"Oh. My. God. Gaara, what did you do?" Temari cried at the scene in front of her; Kankurou sighed.

'Well, at least he didn't kill himself.' Kankurou was vaguely happy with this thought, but the scene in front of him was still heartbreaking.

Gaara sat there, shivering; his lips had turned a sickly grey color. Kankurou leaned forward, slowly turning off the water. His skin was raw, blood slowly dripping down his arms and legs. Kankurou had to practically rip the pumice stone away. He stepped back to grab a towel, and wrapping it around his brother, he attempted to warm him up. "Temari. Get the car started, I need to get him to the hospital."

She walked out, tears streaming down her face. "Okay."

"Gaara, what happened? What did you do?" He sighed, being careful not to upset the raw and bloodied skin. However, Gaara wouldn't answer; he just stared back at him. Kankurou sighed, carrying him into his bedroom. "I'm going to have to set you down for a minute." Gaara nodded in response, wincing from the contact of the sheets. He walked over, pulling out a pair of sweats, boxers, and an oversized tee shirt. He peeled the towel off of his brother, attempting to dress him.

"No! Stop!" Gaara pushed him away.

"Gaara! Stop struggling. I need to get you dressed."

" No! I need to get back in the shower. I'm not clean now. I'm still not clean." He closed his eyes, rubbing his arms, trembling.

"Gaara, stop. I don't know what happened, but you have to stop this. Look at you! Half your skin has peeled off. What would posses you to do this?" Kankurou ripped his hands away, holding them away from his body.

"No, Aniki. I'm not clean yet. I'm still not clean." He broke down, whimpering softly into his brother's arm.

"Let me get you dressed. I need to take you back to the hospital."

Gaara didn't answer. He simply went limp, allowing his brother to dress him. He could vaguely feel his skin sticking to the fabric, giving the satisfying sting of pain as he peeled it away. Kankurou picked him up and slowly carried him to the car.

Temari waited impatiently; Kankurou could see her fingers tapping frantically on the steering wheel. He climbed into the back seat. "Come on, 'Ri. Just drive." He pulled his brother's limp body closer, still trying to warm him, comfort him, or just do something.

DK's Notes: Yeah, well this was supposed to be updated before I left. However, I am here in Ohio, Updating while JK DDR's, then we switch after I finished a scene, or a paragraph, what ever. Hope you enjoy. Oh yeah and to warn all the SasuSaku fans… the next few chapters will be minimal with them. REVIEW DAMMIT!I WORKED HARD!

Junsui Kegasu's BETA Notes: …I don't even know how to type out the noise I just made. I really don't. Anyone (and I mean seriously, anyone) who has talked to me on the phone knows what it is, though. ("It's like a mixture between "Ah" and "Wah"!") T.T! Gaawa! Nooo…pumice stones are to stay in the damn volcanoes!