Green fire in the sky, and it ravages endlessly. Destroying what one might think belonged to them—reclamation. This was sin, tragic sin like none ever seen before. Mushroom clouds blossomed like giant, hellish flowers on the horizon, and the air seemed to spontaneously combust with every breath that was taken. This was where the difference between carbon monoxide and carbon dioxide was evident. The sickly olive haze seemed to blot out the sun, sending everything out to die like a rainbow roller coaster dancing in the sky…

Deidara awoke with a start. It was the weirdest dream he'd ever had in his life. No, not a dream. It had been too real…he felt his forehead, testing for heat. His temperature seemed normal. Getting back in control of his breathing, the spastic blonde glanced over at his master. "Still sound asleep, un," he murmured, throwing the blankets off of him. He walked over to the window quietly as he could, first looking into the sky. It was hazy, thick with rain, but normal nonetheless. Deidara sighed, pressing his hand against the cold, hard glass as thunder rumbled off in the distance. Today was a new day. Always a new day. Sasori would be okay today. "Really, he will, yeah," Deidara reassured himself, and returned, without another word, to his bed.

Sasori was snoring lightly, the rain was pounding on the windows as if demanding entrance, and Deidara was bored out of his skull. He didn't dare turn on the television for fear of what his danna would say if he awoke to yet another episode of Martha Stewart Living (though, deep down, Deidara had a suspicion that it was Sasori's favorite show). Okay, so maybe it wasn't what Sasori would say to him…but the potential of what he could do. He still hadn't gotten the events of that night out of his head.

"Deidara, you'll be damn lucky if I decide to keep you alive. You're a sick freak," Sasori spat angrily. "Danna—" "Shut the fuck up," Sasori whispered. "You've done enough tonight…waking me up in the middle of the night, and for what? Wondering where you can get a fucking glass of water?" Deidara bowed his head. "I'm sorry Danna!" Sasori rolled his eyes. "I'm fucking sure…you know where you can get your god damned water?" Sasori hissed. Deidara was stupid enough to look up, begging him to tell the location of this glass of water. "Take my hand," Sasori murmured, holding it out. Unthinking, the blonde grasped Sasori's hand gently, and there was a sharp pain just seconds later. With a pained scream, Deidara pulled his hand away (trying his hardest to ignore the sadistic smirk on Sasori's face) and nursed his mouth as best he could. It was sopping wet with water, bleeding, and missing a few teeth. Sasori turned with a chuckle at the typicality of blonde stupidity, and went back to his cot.

Deidara lifted his left hand to his face, and it opened, revealing the missing teeth. This always hit him right in the heart. To think that Sasori could be so mean as to actually cause his own partner bodily harm…but it was to be expected. Deidara now realized his stupid mistake…he hadn't known Sasori was so cold-blooded, but from that night on, he kept his eye out for anything that might lead him into a trap. The missing teeth in his hand's mouth were a good reminder of that.

There was a moan from Sasori's bed, and when Deidara looked, he noticed a flaming head of hair poke itself out from beneath the over-washed covers. A groggy-looking Sasori turned to face him just seconds later. "Morning, brat," he murmured. Deidara grinned. "It's not morning, un. It's three in the afternoon." Sasori groaned again. "Dei, you have to learn to wake me up, do you realize that?" Deidara was instantly hit with a pang of guilt. He had known better than to let Sasori sleep in past eleven—the scars around his ribcage were a painful reminder, and yet he had still forgotten to rouse him. Mentally, he slapped himself in the face over and over until he actually felt a bit of a sting. He raised his hand to his cheek, but the flesh wasn't irritated, so he glanced over at Sasori, now sitting cross-legged on top of the bed and searching irately for the remote. So, it had all been a trick of his mind…Deidara scolded himself for letting his imagination become so vivid.

"Stupid mother fucking piece of SHIT!" Sasori screamed, throwing the remote violently against the wall. He watched, rather pleased, as the batteries fell out, along with a couple of buttons. "Sasori-danna, you have to be careful with these remotes, un," Deidara said softly, picking it up for him. "Sometimes the batteries are just loose…" Obediently, the blonde brought the device back to his master. But Sasori was barely listening. He was too intent on Deidara's lips…they beckoned to him in a sort of weird, fantastical way that was just too captivating for words. "Are you alright?" Deidara asked. "You're getting that weird look again, un." Sasori flushed darkly, and adjusted the batteries in the remote. "It's nothing," he said. With the lie, he felt his heart ache a little more, but ignored the feeling as he switched the channel to, once again, a women's cooking show. Deidara crawled onto the bed next to him, and said, "Are you really that bored, or are you avoiding something, un?" Sasori shook his head. "I'm fine, Dei. Really…"

Deidara sighed softly. It wasn't right for Sasori to be acting like this…so shy. It wasn't like him at all. "Do you have agoraphobia, un?" Sasori just ignored the question. Deidara shrugged. It had been a stupid one anyway. "It's raining hard," Sasori said softly, shutting off the television. "I love days like these, un," Deidara said. "When it rains like this, I don't feel so alone, un. It's like, finally, there's someone else that understands how I feel…" Sasori pulled a strange face as the thunder hit. "Forty-five," he murmured. "And still scared to death of the thunder…" Deidara grinned. "Danna, the lightning is what you really have to worry about, yeah. It'll kill you dead, burn you from head to foot, and then—" Sasori turned and glared lazily right into the dead center of Deidara's soul…so it seemed. His gaze had always been rather intense. "Shut the hell up, dumbass." "Sorry, Sasori…" The blonde couldn't help but just watch. As Sasori turned back towards the window, he was trembling from head to foot. Deidara let a small smile curve his lips. Sasori was frightened. He'd never seen anything so ridiculous…but at the same time, there was an insane sense of innocence radiating from the puppeteer…as if he wasn't a killer, or a manipulative jerk by nature…no. Today, he seemed to be a small child again, cowering in his mother's bed, listening to her soft coos, and trying his hardest to will the rain to stop. Cautiously, Deidara moved closer to his master, hoping he would not be reprimanded for his actions…Sasori glanced at him, gave him a weak smile, even, but Deidara could not be fooled. He knew that if Sasori were ten years old, he'd have already pissed himself. "Sasori…you know it can't hurt you, un…" "I fucking know that, fucktard."

Sasori scolded himself for picking up on Hidan's nasty language and various uses of the word 'fuck.' But it was all he could do to convey his independence. He didn't need Deidara's support because he was his own man. Thunder and lightning weren't going to keep him down. "Sorry," Sasori whispered apologetically. Deidara smiled weakly, his blue eye sparkling in the dim light. Sasori was sure the boy was picturing some wild assortment of explosions going on in the clouds each time thunder rumbled, or lightning cut the sky open. "Lightning is like a razor," Sasori commented. Deidara cocked his head, and brushed a strand of golden hair out of his face. "How so, un?" "Every time it flashes, rain pours from the sky…" "Like the blade to the vein, un?" Sasori nodded. Thunder was rumbling and lightning was illuminating the room. He felt slightly nauseous, but would never let Deidara know. "It's because I think I'm tough," Sasori murmured under his breath. "What?" Deidara asked. "Hm? Nothing, Dei…just thinking…" Silently, he cursed himself for not being able to get his fear under control enough to stop shaking like this. He must have looked pathetic. "Deidara, would you—" A particularly loud bit of thunder let itself be known, shaking Sasori to the core, not to mention the rest of the world, and filling his mind with images of none other than the grim reaper standing in the silent snow. All he could hear was screaming, and the rumble of the thunder, the crashing of the lightning…but the screams were his own cries of terror in the dark. All he saw was darkness. His eyes were clenched shut as hard as he could manage, and a new sound cut in to the horror. "Relax, Sasori…it's not going to hurt you, un…" For the life of him, the only reaction Sasori could muster was to wrap his oak arms around the thin frame that embraced him. The only thought going through the puppeteer's mind was 'darkness is a blanket, smothering out life…' It brought him an odd sense of foreboding, but he disregarded it. There were more important things to concentrate on. Deidara's light touch, the comforting words spewed forth from the lips Sasori was sure were soft as silk, and the electrical feeling that seemed to pulse through his heart.