Disclaimer: I own it in my own sweet way. But not Kisame, or Kabuto, Kishimoto can have them both.

Thanks reviewers!

S i l e n t .M u s i c. B o x: I'm glad that the transition was fluid, I was a little worried that it might seem a tad too melodramatic. Yes, you are going to need lots of tissues come the SASUNARU love chapter, yes, I say chapter, because it will be a whole chapter of nothing but hot man luvin' ;)

Fireotaku18: Totally cool, I understand computer malfunctions. Thanks for telling me.

PaInTiNg-ThE-aPocAlYpCe: Yey!

xXOtherAliceXx: You're going to get pleanty of the alter ego's. Hee, hee, hee

Onwards!

Chapter_15: Help

He hated waking up with a hangover, but what was worse was the fact that Naruto was pretty sure he hadn't even gotten to do anything fun while he was under the influence; which was such a waste. When did the best things in life happen? When you were completely bomb-shelled out of your mind. Why? Because you had a built in excuse to do things that you wouldn't even think about doing when you were in full procession of all your marbles.

Ah, well, not that it mattered much now; it was the morning now and he had to deal with his hangover, not missed opportunities. Although, all he would need to cure his hangover symptoms was a few headache meds and a good night's sleep. All he ever got after a good night of drinking was never any more than a slight headache.

It wasn't until he'd started drinking with Iruka that he found out what a 'real' hangover was. It irritated and confounded Naruto's foster father at the same time that his son received such pithy consequences for his overindulgent drinking. It confused Naruto as well, he wasn't sure why or how it was his headaches weren't worse, or why he was never nauseous come morning; not that he wasn't grateful. He's often wondered if maybe it was a side-effect of his supernatural powers, or his hyped up metabolism. Maybe there was no real reason and he just couldn't stay drunk.

The blond sat up and stretched…and then frowned. He didn't remember walking home, or taking his shoes off. But he must've done both somehow, obviously because, well, he was here.

Naruto yawned and tossed his legs over the side to plant his stocking clad feet firmly on the…clean floor? The only times that his floor was clean was the day after he did laundry and he definitely didn't remember doing the laundry. Unless he had done the laundry after he'd gotten home. How pathetic was that? Doing your laundry while you were drunk had to be hitting some kind of social low.

He rose and sauntered over to his kitchen. It too had been cleaned. The dishes were washed and put away in the cupboard, the sink and counters cleaned.

Naruto whistled the twilight zone theme while he opened a nearby cupboard and fished out a bottle of Tylenol. He swallowed three pills dry and put the bottle back. The next order of business it seemed, was getting something to eat, he was hungry, besides; taking medication of any kind on an empty stomach was bad news and Naruto hated throwing up.

It was a satisfied and full blond that left the kitchen twenty minutes later, a new stack of dirty dishes piled into the sink. Though now that he was no longer hungry, questions were cropping up left and right and Naruto was a little worried about their answers.

How had he gotten home? Okay, so that one wasn't so difficult to figure out. So Sasuke had gotten him here and so by the same logic, the raven must've been the one who took off his shoes and…cleaned his apartment, seriously?

The cleanliness totally fit, he'd seen the guys apartment after all, it was spotless, like no one actually lived there…weird. But the rest of it didn't work, it wasn't all that hard to believe, except that the idea of Uchiha Sasuke standing over a sink, doing his dishes was just too bizarre. He couldn't even keep the image in his head for more than about two second without snorting, it was just wrong.

So, mystery person cleans apartment; someone who liked things neat and tidy and organized; someone who knew where he kept his key; someone who knew where he lived. He already ruled out the Uchiha, Kiba was less organized than he was, Sakura wouldn't be caught dead one square city block away from his pad, let alone inside of it, which left only…

Iruka!

Naruto snapped his fingers. That was it! Every time his foster father had come over for a visit (both times) the man had pestered him about trying to keep things cleaner and hot breeding infectious viruses in the moldy trap of boxers which had been hiding under the blonds bed. That had been an exaggeration, not a total one, but Naruto had made sure that the filth wasn't everywhere, just in the more out of the way places.

It would be just like the brunette to come over and clean while he was gone. The man was such a: Mr. Mom it wasn't even funny sometimes.

The blond reached over and nabbed his phone from where it laid one the night-side stand. He frowned.

Speak of the devil…his screen blazed to life, the image of an unopened envelope floating in midair with the word: Missed call from: Dad, underneath. Apparently he'd missed a call from Iruka. His phone vibrated again and the words under the image changed: 1 voicemail. Okay, so Iruka had left him a message too. It was probably a warning to Naruto not to have a total freak out when he saw his newly cleaned apartment.

He punched in the speed dial for voice mail and waited…

"Naruto, its Iruka..." The blond's already furrowed brow deepened. Something was wrong; he could hear the quiver in his father's voice. "… I need to talk to you about something. It's important…" And he couldn't talk about it over the phone? "…I'll be waiting for you at the old park tomorrow at three o'clock. Do you remember our park bench? I'll be waiting there. Be well..."

Naruto didn't even listen to the rest of the message; he had already tossed his phone down onto the cushion of his unmade bed. He's never gotten dressed so fast in his life. Something was wrong, his father was afraid of something, what, why? And what was it that he had to tell Naruto that was so secret and important that he couldn't or wouldn't talk about it over the phone?

His alarm went off. Naruto glanced at this clock and cursed. He had work today from noon until closing tonight, today of all days. He'd have to call and find somebody to cover for him.

The blond grabbed his phone, shoving feet into shoes and tossing on a coat before running out the door.

.:xXXx:.

"It was really weird," The bleached blond shrugged. "It was like the guy was having some kind of weird mid-life crisis/ identity conflict hybrid."

"You'd know all about that wouldn't you, Suigetsu?"

The gunman turned on the redhead who had spoken. "Shut up you whore!"

From her position on the large leather sofa a few feet removed from her on-again off-again lover, Karin stuck her tongue out. "You'd know all about whores, you pimp."

Sasuke leaned back in his chair and waited for the maelstrom to die down. This was something unanticipated. From all his lieutenant had told him, Kyuubi wasn't responding well to the constraints of his agreement; something that didn't bode well for Hebi. If the superhero decided that this bargain with Hebi was compromising his morals, he might decide that he was going to stop playing nice which was a choice that Sasuke could not allow. He had to intervene…again. This would mean very late nights, little sleep, less personal time, no…blond, chikushou. This was getting ridiculous, he was just starting the get Naruto acclimated to the situation and now it seemed that he might have to abandon the venture altogether. Sasuke frowned almost imperceptibly; he didn't like expending resources without any returns to show for it.

Karin and Suigetsu were still bickering wildly back and forth, their insults having moved from Suigetsu's connoisseurship of harlots to his pathetic manhood and her lax bust size.

Sasuke laced his fingers together, resting the knuckle of one pointer against his upper lip. Perhaps he would not have to intervene. Maybe such actions would only serve to drive the man farther away; like a spoiled adolescent, Kyuubi would not take kindly to the idea that he was being controlled or coerced into a certain point of view. There was a simple solution to the current problem; Sasuke just had to find it.

If the situation continued on its current course, then Kyuubi would start targeting Hebi shipments and movements again. If that happened, then he would have no choice but to neutralize the threat against his organization, permanently. Destroying an asset was never his first choice, but Sasuke was nothing if not utilitarian. If the Samaritan became more trouble than he was worth, then the Uchiha had no qualms about killing him. But the man first had to show that he no longer wished to abide by their arrangement, and he had done no such thing, he had in fact cemented his tie to Hebi by saving Suigetsu and not simply allowing the man to be killed and feeding Sasuke in the information later. So the man was still on the fence, or maybe his action were what put him on the fence in the first place.

The man had a strict moral code that allowed no deviation. To have even agreed to a temporary cease-fire with the men he had sworn to destroy, was tearing him up on the inside. No, there would be no point in spending precious time on pointless talk. For now, there seemed little point in doing anything to either help or hinder Kyuubi. That the man would start attacking his people again, Sasuke had no doubts, but with any luck, the fool would take out a couple of Akatsuki before he had to dispose of him; a job which would be much easier if he knew the man's true identity.

"Karin,"

The room fell deathly silent.

"Y-yes?" Came his lieutenant's shaky response.

"Have you made any progress identifying the smell from Kyuubi?"

The redhead trembled slightly as she shook her head. "No, I haven't yet, b-but I will, I promise."

"It was a common smell." Suigetsu broke in with a rush, suddenly defending the woman he had previously been insulting. "I think that if I smelled it again, I'd remember it."

The Uchiha rose, striding silently to the door before saying. "Then you both have the responsibility of remembering such a commonplace scent."

He brushed out the door, the heavy silence of the inner office burning his ears as he walked down the long hall, towards the thrumming hum of music and the ever present press of bodies. He had no patience for the incompetence which worked for him today. He had somewhere to be.

.:xXXx:.

Naruto sat on the old weather worn bench; his head hung low over the tepid coffee clutched in cold fingers. Somewhere in the darker recess of his mind, the blond registered that he was shivering, but paid it little mind. What was facing a bit of nippy weather when the man who raised you needed help? He could handle the cold, he only had what?

The blond glanced at his watch and sighed in frustration. He only had an hour left, which was only two minutes less than the last time he had checked. Even time was conspiring against him it seemed.

Naruto poured his semi-frozen coffee onto the ground and set the Styrofoam cup next to him on the bench. It sat there; small and alone, framed by the faded, once forest green paint. It reminded him of the times all those years ago… when he would sit on this very same park bench, alone and watch all the other children walk home with their parents. That was before he had met Iruka. It was actually kind of funny that the man had chosen this bench as their rendezvous spot, the first time they had come to the park together, they'd fought over this stupid bench.

The day had started off well enough; Iruka had taken a day off of work and took his newly christened foster child out for ice-cream and carousel riding and fun in the park. It had been lunch time, if he recalled correctly. They had gotten Osaka from a trundle vender in the park and were searching for a place to eat. Iruka had spotted the bench and called him over. But the blond said that he didn't want to sit on such a stupid old bench and said that he'd rather sit on the ground than that smelly piece of garbage excuse for a seat. That had set Iruka off. It wasn't until later, far after the warmth of the day had been ruined that his father began to wonder about his reaction.

Naruto remembered distinctly, the man coming quietly into his room and sitting on the bed. He'd pretended to be asleep, but Iruka knew better. They had talked; mostly Iruka just listened as Naruto rambled about sitting on that dumb bench all his life in the orphanage. He'd told the man that he refused to sit on that bench with anyone because he had always been alone on it. It might've sounded silly and later, Naruto would shake his head at his own juvenile notions, but the blond just hadn't been ready to let that portion of his past go. To him, the grimy park bench was a symbol of his solitude, another way in which he had been cut off from the world. He hadn't been ready, in a way, he still wasn't. He'd explained it to Iruka, apologized for being a jerk about it and his foster father had understood.

He still hadn't let anyone sit on the bench with him…maybe old habits just died hard was all? Of course he had never tried, but then again, he didn't really want to try.

"You remembered,"

Naruto looked up. Iruka stood in front of him, bundled up in forty-something layers, a powder-blue scarf wrapped tightly around the lower half of his face. But even the thick material couldn't hide the brunette's wide, relieved smile.

Naruto smiled back and stood, letting out a soft grunt when he was pressed into an unexpected bear hug.

"Iruka," The blond rolled his eyes and held onto the man's elbows.

"You're early," The man pushed him away to arm's length, studying him carefully, as if afraid he were some imposter. "You're never early."

"I was worried when I got your message." Naruto admitted a little sheepishly. Now that it was obvious the man was fine, he felt a little stupid worrying as much as he had.

At the blonds words, Iruka's smile vanished. "Naruto," His voice was grave and deadly serious. "Let's take a walk."

"What? What?" But his foster father was already walking briskly down the deserted gravel path leading through Konagakure Memorial Park.

"Iruka, what?" Naruto jogged up beside his foster father, slowing to a walk when he got in step with the man. "What got you so worried that you can't talk over the phone? I heard the fear in your voice and I can smell all of the adrenaline in your bloodstream. What's going on?"

"Don't say things like that so loudly." The older man hissed, making Naruto;s eyes widen in surprise. The brunette glanced sharply at him and then placed his gaze firmly back on the road. "The police have him."

"The police have who?"

"They have your friend: Nara Shikamaru,"

Naruto felt his heart skip a beat. The Konoha PD had Shikamaru; Akatsuki hadn't killed him. The world spun crazily around him.

"He's not dead," The blond finally breathed, relief flooding through him.

Iruka nodded once. "I should say that Kakashi and Saratobi Asuma have him since Kakashi was the one that placed him under witness protection and Asuma insisted on personally guarding the boy until the trial."

"Wait, witness protection? Trial? Iruka what are you talking about?"

"Something that no one else is supposed to know about, Kakashi could get in a lot of trouble if what I'm about to tell you spread to the wrong ears."

Naruto felt excitement tingle up his spine. He felt like jumping around and telling the man to hurry up and tell him, but managed to keep quiet so the man could continue.

"Your friend witnessed a slaughter," Iruka whispered. "But he also managed to get some pictures of the incident too, the concrete evidence that Kakashi needed. The images are a little grainy, but their enough to convict on top of Shikamaru's testimony. Kakashi says that they're bringing in a judge from another part of the province the day of, so that there's no chance for the Akatsuki to get to him before then, I don't even know who it is. They have everything except a defendant. That's why I called you Naruto."

"I didn't do it."

The brunette shot his son a look that made it very obvious that he was not impressed by the joke.

"I need you to find a name."

"A name?"

Iruka looked uncertain. His pace had increased and the adrenaline was starting to become dangerously pungent. When the man spoke, his voice was a shade quieter than a whisper, one that Naruto had no trouble picking up, even through the scarf around his mouth. "Kakashi won't admit it, but he can't get the names of the two men in the picture and unless he suddenly becomes a ninja, there's no way that he's going to be able to bring those two men in for the trail. I need you to…"

Brown eyes disappeared, scrunched together in sorrow and pain. The subtle scent of saline came to the blond an instant before one tear trickled down the side of his foster father's cheek. "I can't believe that I'm asking you to do this, but if Kakashi goes after Akatsuki, he's…he's not going to come back. And I don't…"

His voice trailed off, choked with emotion.

Naruto understood. Iruka was torn between saving the life of the man he loved, and asking the son the he cherished to do what might get him killed. But it wasn't because he loved Naruto less than Kakashi. The blond felt a little swell of pride. This was a show of faith, proof that Iruka believed in him, in what he could do and what he would be able to accomplish as Kyuubi; proof that Iruka thought he could come back alive.

"I get it," Naruto placed careful hands on the man's shoulders, looking him squarely in his tear bleared eyes. "I'll do it, for you and Kakashi, for Konoha too. I'll do it."

Iruka sniffed and wiped away the tears that were threatening to freeze to his face. "Thank you," But when he had opened his eyes again, he was standing alone, no trace of his bright eyed, number one hyperactive foster child anywhere, but in his heart.

He would go to Kakashi first, make sure that the stubborn man didn't go after Akatsuki while he was making his run; for Iruka's sake. And then he would go…but he was going to come back…

Umino Iruka shivered, wrapping his coat tighter around himself. Naruto would come back…he had to believe it.

.:xXXx:.

"Mah, Asuma, how long am I going to be trapped here?" Shikamaru Nara moaned, sliding lower in the second-hand couch he's been sitting in.

The older policeman paid no attention to the young man's complaints, studying the chess board in front of him. They had been isolated in the small safe house for two days straight, no contact with the outside world. Only Kakashi was allowed to come and go as he pleased because he was the only one amongst the three of them who wasn't considered MIA or dead. Asuma winced and thought about his wife and child. Kurenai was going to kill him when he 'came back from the dead'.

"Kakashi, where are you going?"

The silver haired detective had risen from the overstuffed armchair he had occupied for most of the day and was making his way to the back patio. The man shrugged, pulling the door open, despite the hindrance of thick curtains in the way and stepping though. "Just getting some air, Saratobi, I'll be back in a minute."

Whatever response his 'dead' partner made was lost in the swish of the shutting door.

Kakashi stretched, enjoying the stiff soreness of his muscles. He wasn't as young as he used to be. He couldn't sit in a chair all day and bounce right back up again; his body was starting to wear down.

"Finally," A deep voice chuckled from just above his head. "I thought I was going to have to go in there after you." The detective froze. He'd been caught completely by surprise. His sidearm was in a holster strapped around and just under his armpit, but it might as well have been on the South side of Konoha for all the good it would do him now.

"Why don't you come down here?" He kept his voice steady. "I'd like to see the man who's going to kill me."

"Kill you?" The man sounded shocked, as if he could not believe that Kakashi would come to such a conclusion. "I think you misunderstand my presence here."

And then he was not alone on the terrace. Between one blink and the next the man was standing in front of the detective, his legs spread wide and casual, his hands shoved deeply into the pockets of his leather jacket.

"Hatake Kakashi," The man rumbled. "I've come to offer my assistance."

"Kyuubi," The detective decided. "I honestly expected you to be taller."

The man let out a barking laugh, deep and resounding. He wasn't worried about the two men inside hearing him obviously, or else he had no idea that Kakashi wasn't here alone.

"No beating around the bush with you, detective, eh? No surprised gasps or stammering's about me being a myth? Come now, I'm practically urban legend!"

"Your work was too substantial to be urban legend." The Hatake replied mildly.

"Hm," The superhero was clearly amused. "Quite the believer, aren't you?"

"What do you want?"

"How easily you forget," The man before him answered, sounding bemused. "I offered to help you."

"Help me do what?"

"Don't play coy, detective, it hardly suits you." The man took a step closer. "I know that you need some nasty people brought in, I know that if you try to do it all by yourself, you're going to get killed and then where would your little investigation wind up?"

"You're volunteering to go after Akatsuki?"

"Akatsuki," Another step forward. "Hebi," Another step. "Whatever rubbish needs to be cleared off Konoha's streets."

"Someone's an idealist."

"We're both idealists Kakashi," The superhero was quite close to him now, close enough to see that the man was young, but the details were blurred in the oncoming night. "We just have different methods."

"Yours works outside of the established law while mine works with it."

Kyuubi snorted in disgust, his red gleaming eyes showing only contempt. "Tell me that you are not that naive. The very reason that I am allowed to function is because there is no real law in Konoha anymore. The reason I exist is to reestablish that order from the chaos that has consumed this city."

"Why?" Kakashi was tempted, to say that he wasn't would have been a lie and he was not in the habit of lying to himself. "Why this offer of help now? Why are you doing this?"

The man shrugged. "Reasons are fleeting things. Once you get what you want, what does it matter how you got it?"

"That's not the way I operate."

Kyuubi shrugged, turned and started away, but paused. "You know who I am, or at least, who I am when I have put on this mask. You understand what I feel, you try and protect this city, build it up when the multitudes around you struggle to tear it all down before your eyes. You know why I have fought for all these years, you know, because you have done it yourself. You desire an end to all this madness just as much as I do. Let me help you do what you cannot, you can take the credit for the capture, I care not. But let this city have its rest."

Kakashi wanted to deny it, to tell the man that he was wrong. But the truth was that he was dead on. It had been twenty years since he had joined the Konoha PD, twenty long years trying to do his job and do it right while all around him cops got fat on the street gang's dime. He wanted Konoha to work, had believe in it all these years, that was why he had insisted on the trial. If he went in, guns blazing, he'd be no better than the scum they were trying to bring in. But he could see the light at the end of the tunnel, it was weak and faint, but it was the first he had seen it and he was not going to let it slip away. He didn't have enough officers, of the police that had survived the destruction of the police station, the only straight cops that remained were himself and Saratobi, not nearly enough to bring these two men in. But Kyuubi…maybe, just maybe he could do it…

"Fine,"

The superhero took a deep breath, but did not turn, did not thank Kakashi for his decision. He merely nodded once…and disappeared from view.

Author's note: REVIEWS 'gasp' need reviews to sustain my strength! Ahhhhh...

So anyway, sorry this chapter's so short, well, compaired to the last chapter. The next will come soon, I just finished my last test for the Fall semester 'woot'!

Um...okay that's it...

TBC.