I'm soooooo sorry that this chapter didn't come out sooner!!! FF net was being mean to me and wouldn't let me upload!!!

Well, i was gonna post this the day after Easter and my plan was to say happy belated Easter and Passover and stuff, even though I'm kind of atheist... Please don't take offense!

Well, I hope this chapter is good, I know it's kind of wierd, but I wanted to add some past to Gaara as to why he's always so cold and stuff.

Piano

Night.

Gaara loved the night sometimes.

Tonight was not one of those times.

Nights were dark and silent. They lent themselves to thought, minds wandering aimlessly for hours on end with no one to stop them or pull you back from the dangerous places you sometimes managed to land yourself in. Some nights, the thinking was good.

Tonight was not one of those nights.

Tonight, thinking only led to memories. Memories for Gaara were painful and better left untouched.

He thought of all the times that he had been told to leave, never asked, which was what made all the difference in the world. And of all the times someone told him that no one wanted him, or that he was a freak and a monster, told that no one would ever love him or want him. It was all too much. But in the night, there was no one to bring him back from the darkness within him, it just went on and on, falling into forever.

His book was lying open on the bed, long forgotten. The blanket Neji had lent him was in a pile on the floor, he was too hot for such things right now. He was burning. He was on fire from the inside out. His thin white sheets were bunched up at the foot of the bed, his legs hugged close to his chest. His face was down, forehead resting on his knees, wild red hair flying in all directions. His eyes were screwed shut, and he had his pale arms folded over his head, a shield protecting him from all the dangers outside.

The only problem was that the dangers were inside.

He was panting hard, breath coming in short gasps. He couldn't remember where he was anymore, only that he wanted to be somewhere else.

These memories are playing like a film without a sound.

There they were, there were so many of them. The painful times, the spiteful words, the hateful looks, all laid out for him to see again. The pain was just as fresh as it had been two weeks ago, three months ago, just as raw as six years ago.

-flashback-

Gaara ran down the hall, small feet making slapping sounds as they hit against the polished wood of the floors.

"Yashamaru! Yashamaru! Where are you? I want to show you something!" In his hands he held a small brown-feathered bird. Its right wing was bent at an odd angle, but it didn't look to be in too much pain.

Gaara's uncle Yashamaru was a doctor.

"Yashamaru!!! Where are you?" He rounded a corner, peering into the living room. No one was there.

"Where are you Yashamaru?" He looked into the kitchen, not there.

"Where are you?" He checked in the study. Not there either.

Slowly his excited calls turned into frantic screams.

"Where are you Yashamaru??? Where are you?" Tears were welling up in his eyes now. The only place left in the house that he hadn't looked was his uncle's bedroom. He was never supposed to go in there. He remembered very clearly that Yashamaru had asked him to please stay out of his bedroom.

Gaara didn't like being alone. Temari was out watching a movie with some of her friends, and Kankuro was at a birthday party for one of his friends. He didn't like being alone though, because when he was alone, his imagination got the better of him. Every shadow on the wall became a monster, every gust of desert wind was a desperate cry for help.

Fear was slowly creeping in on him, and Gaara decided that he would deal with his uncle's scolding later. Right now, he just really didn't want to be alone. He opened the basement door with one hand, careful not to drop the bird, and walked slowly down the stairs. He went down the cement-floored hallway to the only door, and knocked. No one answered.

Gaara was panicking now.

Only twenty minutes ago, Yashamaru had asked him to go play outside while he made lunch. Surely he wouldn't be taking a nap already.

As soundlessly as he was able, Gaara turned the silver knob and pushed the door open. Yashamaru lay on the white carpeted floor, a pool of crimson blood surrounding him. A stained knife lay in his right hand, two large gashes on his wrists. He turned his gaze towards the petrified redhead in the doorway and smiled sadly.

"Sorry. I didn't want you to have to see this."

Gaara screamed.

-end flashback-

'Why? Why do I have to see it again? Why is he haunting me? It's not my fault!'

"It's not my fault." He whispered slowly to himself, repeating it over and over again like a mantra. He began rocking himself back and forth gently.

"It's not my fault… It's not my fault… It's not my fault…" he was oblivious to the world around him. The walls of his mind were closing in, threatening to crush him. His breathing grew ragged and he began to sweat. He was claustrophobic. But the walls were closing in around him, uncaring of his fear. The cold darkness stifled the scream in his throat, covering him like a heavy blanket. He was hot. Too hot. He couldn't deal with it. Surely he was going to die here.

A cool arm wrapped around his shaking shoulders, and Gaara realized that he was sobbing. He felt the cool hand rub comforting circles on his back, a soft voice whispering comforting words into his ear.

"Shh… It's okay Gaara. Just breathe." Two hands wrapped themselves around Gaara's wrists, lifting his arms off his head and putting them down by his sides. Fingers ran through his messy hair in a steady, calming rhythm. Slowly he lifted his head up, wet tears glistening on his pale cheeks, bloodshot eyes stared up to the kind person.

Somehow, he thought it might just be

"Yashamaru!"

Gaara ran to his uncle. Tears were streaming down his face.

"It's okay Gaara. Please, just breathe." His breath was coming in short gasps. "I didn't want you to have to see it. You'll be alright though." A spark of hope lingered somewhere in those depthless, innocent aquamarine eyes.

"So… you're going to be okay, right?" Yashamaru smiled grimly.

"I hope not." Something in him shattered then. He snapped.

"Why!" He yelled.

"Shh… It's okay Gaara. It's not your fault."

-end flashback-

But it was Neji. His eyes were concerned, his posture tired. His brown hair was messy and thrown into a careless ponytail that was falling over his right shoulder. One arm rested at his side, the other was wrapped around Gaara's thin shoulders.

"Are you alright now?" Gaara's throat was too dry to speak, so he nodded. Neji looked unsure.

"Would you like to talk about it?" Gaara shook his head no.

"Sleep now then." The older boy said gently. He ran his slender fingers through the red hair one more time before placing his hand firmly on Gaara's shoulder. He looked very serious, like he was about to say something. But he didn't. He took his hand away and turned, climbing back into his own bed.

Gaara shifted so that he was lying down under the sheets, and stared at Neji's broad back. 'I wonder what he was going to say…' He thought curiously before drifting into sleep.

'Don't be afraid, Gaara. I don't want you to ever be afraid.'

Waaaah! My thumbs hurt!!! I guess hours of playing the PS2 will do that to you... We just got Naruto; Ultimate Ninja, and even though I know it's not the most recent game, it's a lot of fun, and I don't suck too bad... Well, at least not all the time.

Please R&R you know I love shameless praise, comments, questions, and if you don't like it, please be honest and tell me so. I'll answer every review in a PM!!!

Oh, and to those like me, HAPPY SUMMER BREAK!!!!

Random note (i'm sorry this AN is going on so long), I may not update for a while again because my muse is dead and I have chapter 9 written, but I really really hate it... I hated it so much that when I reread it, I realized half of it didn't even make sense!!! -happy dance- wow... no more cheesecake for breakfast. So, that's it, and to those who read all the way through this AN, I appreciate it muchly!!!