A couple more chapters and I think I can sign off of on this one. It's certainly odd enough. Not like my usual romantic pabulum. Hope you enjoyed the ride, new and old readers alike.

Disclaimer: See Part 1

She should have pressed charges, Sakura knew she should have, but when it came right down to it she just didn't want to. There was something hungry about the way the security man had ushered her over to the police officer that had arrived on scene that had put her in a strange mood, and then there were the painkillers that had certainly taken that strange mood and turned it into something more like a bad trip. Yes, they had argued. Yes, he had put his hands on her. No, she didn't think he had broken her wrist on purpose. Yes, she knew he had a record of similar past behavior. No, she didn't think he was a danger to her. On and on until she wanted to pretend to pass out… oh wait she had actually passed out.

After that? Radio silence.

It took six weeks before her cast was off, luckily it was not her right hand or it would have been much more complicated to eat and get dressed but typing suddenly became laborious. Coming back to school was even more of a chore, not because she hadn't adjusted to the work load but because every person that asked her how it happened she couldn't give a straight answer.

She didn't know if she was protecting Gaara or herself. What she did know was that something had altered in her. She felt locked up inside of herself in a way she couldn't explain to anyone, even Naruto, who buzzed around her with concern at first and then ushered in all their friends to buzz around her periodically after she swatted him firmly. The things Gaara had said hadn't been a revelation or anything, but there was a profound question she had to ask herself when her closest human connection was a deranged person she hardly knew.

That was a bitter pill. When had she let everyone float away from her? Was it partially due to her fixation on Sasuke all those years ago? It still lived on a bit, but not in the same way. Was Gaara her way of replacing one broken connection with another?

She didn't want to see him, and so she didn't. The visits she had with Sasuke were short and with large groups of people around her so the staff didn't need to monitor her so closely and she could feel safe once more in that space. Sasuke would grump at them all but secretly be pleased and everyone would leave happy.

The first letter that she got was almost by accident. A young nurse ran up to her as she was leaving with Naruto, Lee, and Hinata on a day in late October.

"Wait!"

It never occurred to her that someone would want to talk to her at the hospital. They were mostly just grateful that she hadn't sued them over her injuries, despite all their legal precautions.

"You! With the pink hair! Wait!" That was a little more specific. Hinata nudged her and Sakura turned around to encounter a student nurse with a puffy red face from running down the long hallways.

"Dr. Iruka said to give you this," she gasped and stuffed an envelope in her hands.

Despite curious friends and a burning desire to know what this was about somehow Sakura held herself back until she got home. She had explain it away to her friends as more legal paperwork she needed for her records and they dropped the subject, turning their attention to talk of Halloween and what order their pub crawl should be in this year now that parties were less about costumes and more about how insensible they could get (with Lee advocating a dry night but losing.)

Dear Ms. Haruno,

My patient and your friend Gaara Sabaku has been at our facility for some time but without much progress beyond the behaviors he has displayed since the time he entered treatment facilities at the end of high school (he has given me permission to divulge these details and has more to say in the enclosed letter which I have read and approved to be given to you.) Please read this, though do not feel obliged to answer, as we have determined this to be a healthy part of his ongoing therapy.

Iruka

Her "friend?" This was certainly an odd twist on things. The enclosed letter made her curious about what was up with this therapy.

It wasn't my intention.

That was it. Four words in tight cursive. Was that an apology? If it was, it sucked to say the least. Life was too busy for Gaara, and as she thought of him she flexed her hand and felt a deep ache where she hadn't healed fully yet. The more she thought about it, though, the more heated she felt. Sometime during her drunken post-Halloween ramblings she wandered over to her computer, typed up a response, printed it, and mailed it out. When it was returned for insufficient postage mid-November she almost cried with relief.

It had been over three months since she had seen Gaara, and winter break was fast approaching. In the whirlwind of parties and studying and travel arranging for family time he almost got lost in the shuffle. Almost.

All she intended to do was drop off a present for Sasuke from all of them, somehow having been the one conned into wrapping it as well, when the facility receptionist asked her to hold on a moment.

Dr. Iruka, looking worn down a bit and slightly rumpled but otherwise just as he always did, came out to greet her with his hand outstretched after a short wait.

"Ms. Haruno, so good to see you here."

"I don't have a lot of time, Doctor, I really need to get going." She tried to pull back a bit out of the handshake, nervous suddenly.

"Understandable, it's that time of year after all," He reached into a deep pocket in his jacket. "All I need to do is give you these. Do what you will with them, but I promised to deliver them. I've read them all and approved them except for this one that's sealed. If you'd prefer not to take them I totally understand but I promised Gaara I would at least offer them to you."

Take them and throw them in the trash on your way out. That was the first voice.

He worked so hard on them, just toss them in a box when you get home and get back to studying. Second voice was more compelling.

Two words: incin-erator. Silliness. Stupid mind.

Just read them and damn the consequences. That certainly was the worst voice yet.

"Why thank you, Doctor." She didn't sound happy or grateful even to her own ears but somehow her hands were clutching the letters as if they were something infinitely precious. "It's just some words on a paper. I guess I owe him that much?"

With a gentle smile he simply shook his head with a sigh. "No, Ms. Haruno, I think you'll find you don't owe him anything. But if you'll do him the courtesy it would be kind of you. Good evening and Happy Holidays."

As she drove home she kept looking over at them as if they would spring to life, and in the end she did in fact stuff them at the bottom of her closet as soon as she got home with the exception of the one in the sealed envelope. She placed it on her kitchen counter, and made herself a cup of tea. As the water boiled she stared at it, willing it to do something independently. When she poured her tea it was still just a letter. When she made herself a piece of toast it still managed to be just a letter. As her phone rang and rang, letting her know that Ino was in a panic about some party detail, and she ignored it entirely that envelope taunted her with the unknown.

Somehow the moment came while she was brushing her teeth, and with a loud and rather dirty oath that she swore loudly with a mouth full of suds, she launched herself into the kitchen and tore into the letter which was in that strangely perfect cursive.

Where are you?

Damn it! A drop of toothpaste hit the paper with a dull thud. Sakura spat the sweet mass into the kitchen sink and folded down into one of her cheap vinyl chairs. The peeling linoleum of her apartment's kitchen floor held no answers to what she should do next.