Trigger warnings: mentions of violence, blood, trauma (panic attack).
Rise
Chapter 14
Usually when Sasuke sleeps, he dreams of red. Red, red, red; splattered upon the ground, over the bare skin of his feet, warm and sticky and disgustingly vibrant.
Ever since that horrific night his family died and his entire world fell off its axis Sasuke has rarely been able to sleep properly. But his nightmares come and go in waves—fading to nothing for weeks yet returning twofold at the snap of a finger—and as they come they haunt him to varying torturous degrees.
Some nights he's seven years old again, staring at the lifeless bodies of his parents as Itachi hovers over them, sinister and towering. Blood coats the walls, the ground, and when he tries to close his eyes from the sight his body fails to listen. Some nights he's running—running as fast as he possibly can but it's never fast enough because the ghosts of his dead family chase at his feet, clawing at him and screaming for help.
Eventually he gives up, falling to the ground and letting them do to him what they wish. He always wakes up thinking he deserves it, for living when they had to die.
Red—yes, usually he dreams of red. Of massacres and misery. Tonight, however—for some unknown reason—his subconsciousness is kind, and he dreams of his friends.
He dreams of Sakura and Naruto, laughing and joyful. They're bathed in sunlight and it hurts his eyes to look at them, radiant as they are.
Yet the only thing he can think of is that he'll gladly go blind. Gladly and a hundred times over, if only to know that they are happy.
Sasuke and Naruto are silent as they pass by the village gates on their way to the training grounds. For Sasuke silence is usually a comfortable blanket, preferable in almost every situation, but today it leaves him tense and restless. Especially since Naruto is the loudest, most talkative idiot he knows, and even the blond has remained eerily mute at his side.
Sasuke does his best to keep his gaze locked on the path before them but falters at the last second. His eyes flicker to the village gates, take in the lack of a certain pink-haired kunoichi, and snap back just as quickly. Annoyance flashes through him, along with an underlying current of bitter, ceaseless concern.
He tries to think of something else. Anything else. It's absurd, really. Just because Sakura is two weeks late from her mission with no word from her or her team doesn't mean he should be losing goddamn sleep over it—
"I'm worried about her, too," Naruto says quietly.
Sasuke turns to find the blond gazing at the village gates. He's not sure how Naruto saw the subtle shifting of his eyes, or if Naruto could simply sense the waves of apprehension nearly pouring out of him.
The Uchiha's initial response is denial. To admit to his worry will show that he cares, and Sasuke is still so, so very unused to doing so. It's a given, seeing that he drilled it into himself for years: a toxic mantra of love is weakness, bonds will only hold you back, do not let others know you care you should NOT let yourself care. He's spent the better part of the last year trying to rid himself of such unhealthy, automatic reactions—especially since Naruto and Sakura know him well enough to see through them—but his work, evidently, is far from finished.
Sasuke's throat tightens at the thought. He recalls the look on Sakura's face the last time he saw her that gloomy day in her apartment. The unspoken questions flashing in her eyes as he woke up on her couch after nearly breaking down in front of her. The wistful twist of her lips when he refused to open up to her yet again, leaving her with nothing but a quiet "Thank you" and the sight of his traitorous back as he walked out the door.
Sasuke takes a deep breath and wars with every natural instinct in him as he asks, "There's no word from Kakashi yet?"
Naruto meets his eyes and Sasuke swears he sees a flash of approval in them. "I don't know what you're talking about, dobe" and a cold shoulder are by far the reactions Naruto expected out of him.
"Not as of this morning." Naruto rubs at the back of his neck and exhales loudly. "I trust Sakura-chan with all my heart. I do. She's the strongest kunoichi I know and she would kick my ass if she knew I was worrying about her." He casts one last look at the village gates before they've passed by them entirely. Softly now he says, "But two weeks is a long time for anyone to be late from a mission, especially since it was only supposed to take a few days to complete."
Sasuke frowns. Naruto's played the role of optimist in their team for as long as he can remember. To hear the quiet unease in the blond's voice and see the uncertainty in his blue eyes sets Sasuke entirely on edge.
Haruno Sakura, he knows, is anything but weak. She's resilient, independent, strong. The fact that she's nearly two weeks late from her mission shouldn't worry him.
But it does. Oh, but it does. This inherent concern for her wellbeing, this desperate need to know she's okay—it's kept him up at night these past few weeks more than he likes to admit.
Sasuke checks himself before his emotions have the chance to spiral. Giving in to his temper has never done him much good before, and he's sure to get a slap on the hand from Kakashi if he destroys half the training grounds as he's so tempted to do.
"Why hasn't Kakashi sent out a search team?" Sasuke questions, jaw working.
"The old man thinks we need to trust her." Naruto jabs a finger at the ground before them. "I tried to tell him that I do, and he said and I quote, 'Sakura is a big girl and I will not undermine her abilities as team captain. If I find it necessary to send out a search team I will, but until then I expect you to carry out your duties as usual blah blah blah.'"
The high-pitched, nasally voice Naruto used when speaking as Kakashi would've brought a half-smile to Sasuke's lips in any other circumstance. And given the eager look he sees Naruto send him from the corner of his eye, it's exactly the result the blond hoped for. Now it only serves to pique his annoyance.
Naruto continues to stare at him, expectant. Sasuke counts backward from ten in his head, willing himself not to react, but—
"What?" Sasuke finally snaps, unable to help himself.
"Nothing!" Naruto waves a hand in the air, looking sheepish. "I guess—it's just…"
"What is it, Naruto?" the Uchiha says from behind clenched teeth.
"Fine, fine." Naruto sighs, and he watches as the blond's face loses its playful demeanor, instead growing solemn and reflective. "I just don't think I've ever seen you look so"—a pause as Naruto gathers his thoughts—"so troubled before. Usually I'm the one throwing a fit over Sakura-chan's safety and you're telling me to shut up."
Yet every time Sasuke worried just as much, if not more. He always has. He just never knows how to express it.
Sasuke bows his head a little in acquiescence, silent. For those few who know him well it's a glaring concession to his apprehension; as such it's more than enough of a reason for Naruto to touch a tanned hand to his shoulder.
And although the blond remains silent as well, Sasuke can feel exactly what Naruto means to convey through the touch: I understand. What you're feeling is normal. You're not alone.
"C'mon, teme." Naruto's voice is soft. "Let's go get some lunch. My treat."
They're supposed to be on their way to the training grounds, but to argue with the blond would require energy Sasuke can't find it in him to muster. So he simply nods in response and lets Naruto drag him away to Ichiraku's.
Restless, agitated, apprehensive—all words Sasuke would never before use to describe himself, yet somehow, unerringly, they become constant in his life. And with each day that passes without sight or news of Sakura their grip on him tightens.
More often than not he contemplates disobeying Kakashi's orders and leaving the village to search for her himself, but he realizes that doing so would be vastly detrimental to the already thin line he walks as a free agent of Konoha. He's a war criminal, after all, and no amount of pleading from Naruto or Kakashi would be able to help him if he deserted the village again, regardless if it were for a good reason or not.
Then he goes home at night, and it's when he's alone, left with nothing but the dark plains of his own mind, that he thinks of the worst. He thinks of Sakura in foreign, enemy land, lost and drained of all reserves. Of her being held against her will, tortured and beaten. Of the life fading from her eyes while he's here in Konoha doing absolutely fucking nothing to help her.
He thinks of the worst, and it very nearly breaks him.
Sasuke bolts upright in his bed, chest heaving and sweat beading on his forehead. Panic races through his veins, oxygen fails to find its way into his lungs, and he's drowning, suffocating from the fear and horror pounding into his very bones.
His fingers dig into the mattress below him and he squeezes his eyes shut as he attempts to calm himself.
He's only rarely had nightmares this intense—nearly forgot the weight they hold, how incredibly real they can seem. Even now he presses his palms into his eyes, reliving the nightmare, powerless to tear himself away.
He can almost feel Sakura in his arms as she bleeds out beneath him, a gaping hole in her chest from where his chidori burned into her. Unable to control himself, as if he's a puppet to some unknown being, he's forced to watch as he lets her body fall to the ground with a wet, sickening thud. A sea of crimson begins to claw its way over the concrete bridge beneath her.
Sasuke curls into himself, hunching over, and he's breathing so fast he's sure he's on the brink of hyperventilating.
Sakura's lifeless eyes are wide as they stare blankly at the grey sky above. Her mouth is open, frozen in the beginning of a scream. She wasn't even able to let it out before he buried his hand in her chest. Blood runs slowly down her chin and he watches—helpless—as it drips into the growing pool below.
He tries to regulate his breathing but finds out soon enough that it's futile. A firestorm of self-loathing takes hold of him and he thinks he might just choke from the potency of it.
Achingly slow his hand lifts until it's inches from his face. It's coated in her blood, still disgustingly warm, and the sight and feel of it is something he doesn't think he'll ever be able to forget.
His nails press into his forehead, nearly piercing the skin there. And although he knows it's just a dream, he can't help but feel like he's breaking apart from the inside out. None of his other nightmares have been as realistic as this. Never in his nightmares has he actually succeeded in killing her.
"S-Sakura-chan?"
No. His jaw clenches and the bed beneath him vibrates from the force of his shaking. No no no no no no. If he has to see this again—
Sasuke's head whips up to find Naruto standing ten feet away. The blond's eyes are locked on the body of his lifeless teammate, wide and so utterly lost, as if he can't believe the sight before him. Sasuke can't bear to look at him. He tries so hard to turn away and yet he can't move an inch, rooted in the spot, forced to watch as the disbelief in Naruto's eyes morphs into bone-chilling agony because the girl he loves is dead, and the friend he's tried for so long to save is the one who killed her—
A single tear slips from his closed eyes, completely out of his control.
"SAKURA-CHAN!" Naruto screams.
And it's the most heartbreaking thing Sasuke's ever heard.
A/N: I know, I know. It's almost been an entire year since I last updated this story. I truly have no one to blame but myself, but what I will say is thank you, thank you, thank you from the bottom of my heart to everyone who's continued to show their love and support for this story. When I was having especially rough days this last year, coming back here and reading your reviews gave me so much strength and motivation. Thank you, truly—and I'm so sorry for the long wait.
Writing this chapter nearly brought me to tears so many times. Sasuke's head can be such a painful place to be; how could it not, considering all he's been through? But that's also what makes his healing process so much more admirable and awe-inspiring.
With love and many apologies,
Shannon
P.S. I've been quite active on my Twitter account, konohahoe. You can follow me there for some sneak peeks at future chapters as well as for some short, independent snippets. :)