WARNING: There might be some triggering concepts in this chapter. Also, to disclaim myself, the methodology in this chapter is completely fictional. Do not attempt this in real life.

Her back hit the mattress and she hastily scrambled away from him. Her eyes were wide and her heart was practically hammering its way through her chest as she watched him pace back and forth at the foot of the bed. Kakashi's hands were shaking. It was the first time in all the years she'd known him that she'd ever seen his hands unsteady.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he repeated, his voice rising nearly to a shout. She flinched at his tone and her knees drew closer to her chest.

Sakura didn't say anything, but she maintained eye contact. Any words she would have said were long gone. Even if they hadn't fled, she doubted she had the voice to say them. She was frozen under his glare, unable to move or make a sound. He stalked around the side of the bed toward her and she recoiled when his hand flashed out.

But it wasn't to strike; it was to jerk her upright, to drag her so close she could feel the heat radiating off his body. She could smell the mint on his breath, feel the air expel in ragged bursts from his lungs. At this proximity, she could also feel that the tremors weren't just in his hands. They ran up his arms, across his chest, even presented in the flexing of his jaw muscles.

"Did you stop for one second to think what that would do to me?" he continued, growling the question directly into her face. "You can't even pretend to care or try anymore? Is that it?"

She shook her head and pushed harder against him. Tears were streaming down her cheeks and her lips moved with unspoken words. Panic began to rise in her, making her breathing ragged. The need to get away was strong, made her shove her free hand against his chest. It was no use; even if he wasn't stronger, his grip was such that she couldn't have broken it anyway.

"I can't go through something like that again!" he continued heatedly, his hand squeezing tighter around her wrist. "I barely survived it the first time, and now you're going to make me live it again? You might as well kill me now!"

She could see the tears in his eyes, clinging stubbornly to his lashes. One slipped free, rolling down his cheek. The rage was slowly giving way to something she couldn't identify. The closest she could describe it was betrayal, one that cut deep to the soul.

And then it occurred to her why: he was afraid. The tears gave way to full out sobs. He wasn't just angry; he was frightened. He was afraid of losing her, maybe even afraid of her. Her breathing was nothing more than choking bids for air as she struggled harder to break away. She couldn't look at him anymore, couldn't face him. She had to get away.

But Kakashi wouldn't let her go. He never had and never would. Sakura pulled back hard as he dragged her across the floor toward the chair. The kunai had fallen just to one side of its leg, and her eyes were immediately drawn to its polished surface. Kakashi bent over and snatched it roughly from the carpet. Her eyes rounded and the panic flared into full out terror as he turned back toward her. He forced her fingers open, clasped his hand over hers to make her hold it, and leveled the point at his own stomach – exactly where the cut should go.

Sakura shook her head, tried to drop the kunai. His hand tightened over hers, drove it closer.

"Do it," he ordered, his voice barely more than an enraged hiss.

He wasn't serious. He couldn't be. How could he think she'd ever…? She shook her head, tried to jerk her arm free. This was too much, too far.

His fingers squeezed to the point of pain. "I said do it, Sakura."

She shook her head more violently, closed her eyes as he dragged the kunai closer to his gut. She could feel the slight drag of it as it caught on flesh. Her arm was shaking with the strain of resisting him and her muscles were beginning to ache. Sweat was pearling between her palm and the grip; it could slip at any moment. Her fingers clenched the taped hilt more tightly than ever and she used whatever strength was left in her to keep that blade from budging any further. She couldn't do it, would never do.

"Right here, right now."

Her free hand pressed into his shoulder, her nails digging hard enough into his flesh to leave deep red marks. The kunai met his skin again, this time cutting a thin line across his abdomen. Blood blossomed along the mark, a bit of it slipping down his stomach.

"I'm not playing around here, Sakura. Just get it over with," he goaded. His hand twisted her wrist, causing another bloody line to form.

"Stop it." The words were whispered, as if someone else were forcing them from her mouth.

"This is a thousand times more merciful that what you were planning."

"Stop it." Louder now. Stronger.

Something was flaring inside her, hot and roiling like fire. It took her a moment to recognize the sensation: anger. She was angry with him for doing this, for forcing her to hurt him, for adding his blood to everything else. For not being there when she'd needed him the most. And with that fiery rage came another sensation, one that was cooler and wove its way through her stomach, her chest, twisted down her arms. She felt it pulse along her muscles, encompassing them completely.

"Just a quick slice and then—"

"Stop it! Just stop it!"

A burst of chakra sent him reeling backward, all the way into the far wall. The plaster cracked with the impact and he slid down, momentarily stunned.

She fell to the floor, weakened by the rush of adrenaline and chakra. She was crying so hard she could barely catch a breath for the next round. Sakura remained on her hands and knees, feeling utterly broken and spent. Her arms were aching so badly it almost eclipsed the one in her heart. She heard his footsteps on the carpet as he came over to her. He didn't touch her, didn't come down to her level. He stood over her while she cried harder than she had in months.

"I can't do this."

The words so closely echoed what she was feeling that she almost swore they'd come from her. Her gaze remained fixed on his bare feet in front of her. But they were only there for a moment before he stepped around her – heading for the door.

She sat up, his name halfway across her lips … but he was already gone. He was gone and she was alone again, only this time with a new pain tearing at what was left of her heart. She hadn't thought there was anything left for her to lose. She was wrong. So very, very wrong. And now it was too late.

People were staring at him as he came down the stairs, probably because he was shirtless. Or maybe it was the blood. Either way, he didn't particularly care if he was ruining their getaway from the daily grind. He needed to think, needed air that wasn't being regulated through air ducts for maximum comfort. He needed to breathe in trees and earth and water.

He needed freedom.

Someone called his name, but he didn't pause as he stepped out onto the front porch. And then he was running, his bare feet carrying him swiftly over grass and moss.

He leapt over rocks, using chakra when necessary to keep his balance and prevent slipping on the moist surface. Trees whipped by as he twisted around their sap covered trunks. The feel of pine needles, freshly fallen or dried brittle, cushioned the sound of his bare feet in the forest. Pine and maple were heavy in the air, filling his lungs with each breath. He just ran and ran, escaping, if only for a minute, into the forest.

He didn't stop until he very nearly went running right off the edge of a gully. Kakashi skidded to a halt, his teeth grinding as the chakra coursing through his legs and feet put a heavy strain on his muscles. There was a fleeting moment where he teetered on the very edge, stared down at the jagged rocks waiting below, but he quickly regained control and pulled himself away.

There was nowhere left to run, not in this direction at least. Why did every path he choose always end in a cliff? He looked further north toward the peak of the mountain and contemplated climbing to the summit. But would that be far enough? South, then. Just follow the line of the gully until it tapered into nothing. He could keep running then, all the way to the ocean. And even into the ocean if that wasn't enough.

But then he turned around, back the way he came … and knew he couldn't. He could run to the ends of the earth and beyond, and he'd still come back to her. He would always come back for her.

As soon as thoughts of Sakura surfaced, so did the image that was burned behind his eyelids – the image that had sent him racing out into the forest and away from her in the first place. He pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes until white spots flared, but he could still see her holding that kunai. He could still see the way she'd stared at her reflection, the loathing and hate in her eyes for the woman reflected back. And with it came another memory, one she wasn't part of: a man lying face down on the floor of a sparsely furnished apartment with blood haloing around his upper body.

He couldn't do it again. He couldn't go through the pain of coming home to find someone he loved dead, killed by their own hand. Reflexively, his fingers brushed across his bare cheeks where the mask should have been. His chest was heaving, but not from running. Each breath was choked, haggard, difficult to get through his tight throat. All he saw was his father on the floor, only the image kept shifting. The body became slimmer, the hair much longer and a very distinct shade of pink. The hand still curled loosely around the kunai was slender and delicate. Feminine.

A scream tore through him, one that ripped through the forest and sent birds flying from their perches. It was rage and frustration, pain and grief. Every last shred of emotion he'd kept bottled up inside him poured out in that primal sound. Birds were shrieking all around him, high pitched and furious. Blue-white light blinded him for a split second and then there was nothing but smoking trees, smoldering moss, and charred rock in front of him for as far as he could see. His entire palm was stinging, burned bright red as if he'd just placed it in boiling water.

"That's being put on your tab, you know."

Kakashi whipped around toward the unexpected voice, blinking as sweat slipped down into his eyes. The sharingan adjusted as Rei moved toward him, thin blue outlines tracing every potential move she might make before solidifying once a single action was taken. "What are you doing here?" he asked gruffly, his voice coming out cracked and hoarse.

Rei carefully kept her eyes focused on the rocks she was navigating in geta, her arms extending for added balance. "You come running down the stairs wearing nothing but pajama pants with blood on your stomach, and you wonder what I'm doing here?" she questioned back. She came to stand next to him, gazing out over the destruction he'd leveled on her land. "I think it's time you tell me what's going on, Kakashi."

He didn't say anything for the longest time, mostly because he didn't know how to say it but partly because he'd never said it out loud to anyone before. No one had, not when it had happened and not afterward. It was always referenced vaguely, hidden behind general questions and indistinct responses. All those howarethings inquiries and his thingsarewhattheyareanswers. They were all ways to avoid saying it, to keep it from becoming real through words.

And maybe that was part of the problem. Maybe he was running from it as well, using Sakura as an escape. He was pouring himself into keeping her alive so that he didn't have to face the fact that they … that what had happened was….

"I don't know what to do," he admitted, answering her question without actually doing so. "It feels like the only thing I cando is watch her struggle and hope that she'll somehow pull through it all. I don't know how to help her or how to make her see that she's not alone."

Rei sighed, a long, low sound that was a combination of many things: thoughtfulness, sorrow, sympathy. Her hand reached between them, her fingers twining with his in silent comfort. "You can't help someone unless they realize they need it, Kakashi. And even then, they have to be at least willing to try and help their self. It's a give and take, and it won't work if it's not equivalent."

"I'm scared." The words were low, barely more than a whisper, but she heard them.

She turned toward him, her eyes narrowing as she studied his profile intently. "Of what, losing her?"

Kakashi nodded, felt his stomach lurch sickeningly at the thought.

"Maybe you already have," she countered, rubbing her thumb in gentle circles along his. "Or maybe you've only lost the person she was."

"I… I just want things to be like they were before. I want her to smile and laugh like she used to. I want what we had."

"You can't ever get it back. You should know that. Death changes those it touches … but that doesn't mean you can't find newhappiness." She paused a moment, considering him silently. "Perhaps instead of fixating on how to make things like they were in the past you should look to making something better out of the future?"

He didn't have a response to that. Part of him, the one that clung to mementos and memories, still insisted that he could return everything the way it was. But another part of him saw the truth in what she said. How many times had death changed him over the course of his life? Why should this time be any different? Why should Sakurabe any different?

Kakashi broke from his thoughts when Rei sighed again and gave his hand a small tug.

"Listen," she said, "I just want you to know … I'm here for you, okay? Doesn't matter when or where. If you need someone to talk to, find me. Got it?"

He squeezed her hand appreciatively and murmured, "I know."

She squeezed back and put on a convincing smile. "Good. Oh, no offense or anything, but do you mind if we circle around the back to use the delivery entrance? It's kind of bad for business to have a bleeding guest."

"You could always heal it," he suggested, even as he glanced down to see how bad it really was. The cuts were all shallow things, nothing more than deep scratches. It didn't look bad, at least in his opinion … but then Sakura always said his definition of 'badly injured' was beyond skewed, so what did he know?

Rei let out a short, barking laugh and shook her head. "Do you know how long it's been since I've used chakra like that? Knowing my luck, I'd mess up your adorable belly button and then end up getting my ass kicked by your wife. But here." She handed him a small foil packet containing a sanitizer wipe. "If you can clean it up a little, I think you'll be presentable enough to go through the front."

Kakashi took the packet and tore it open. His stomach muscles flinched at the sting of medicinal alcohol across the scratches, but he had to admit it made a difference. Without the dried blood around the wounds, it looked more like he'd gotten on the wrong side of a three-toed feral cat.

And judging by the satisfied smile Rei gave him, he was now presentable enough for the main entrance. "There we go. That's muchbetter," she commented as he tucked the used wipe into his pocket. "Come on, we should get going. I've got a nine-fifteen massage I can't miss."

They walked back together in silence, save for the occasional muttered curse Rei uttered whenever she had to very gingerly pick her way through the underbrush in a full yukata and geta. He could feel the faint pulse of her chakra as she used it to keep her balance. Kakashi gave her a hand every now and then through the minefield of twisting roots and hidden holes.

It took awhile before the roof of the house finally peeked out over the treetops. By that time, the temperature had hiked up considerably. Sweat dotted across his brow and when he spared a glance at Rei he could see her hair was damp and clinging to her cheeks. There were also dark stains forming across the back of her pale yukata and just under her arms … but he refrained from pointing that out to her. She looked annoyed enough as it was.

Finally, they emerged on the wide, sweeping lawn that led up to the house. Kakashi had just started up the slope when he realized Rei wasn't walking with him. Thinking perhaps she'd run into another wardrobe obstacle, he turned to assist her only to discover she was staring past him at the porch. He followed her gaze … and his heart skipped a beat.

Sakura was sitting on the topmost step, staring at her folded hands. As soon as she became aware of their presence though, her gaze snapped up and met his. There was so much in that one look, so many emotions passing swiftly across her features. But what caught and held him was the spark that was in her gaze. It was steady, almost defiant, and it was very much alive.

He was aware of Rei coming up alongside him and giving his shoulder a pat. "I think this is my cue to leave," she murmured before slipping off around the side of the house.

They were alone now, just them and a whole lot of things that needed to be said.