Here we go with chapter two :) I'm mostly posting just to have this out here, but hey, if people enjoy it, that's great! :D

Saturday, September 4th,

The eyes are the gateway to his mind. The anger, no, the hated that lingers is put on display. It's a warning, to let others know not to get too close. He's wild, he's untamed, he will bite, and yet, not a single word is uttered. Only those eyes of his spark with any sort of recognition, interest, anything. He gives away more than he realizes with the way he looks at you, neck tense and teeth chewing at his inner lip. You can see him calculating, predicting your next move, staying one step ahead. To him, this is a game of dominance, a battle he will not lose. To me, this is a breakthrough in modern psychology, a new way to observe behaviours off a clinically perturbed genius. To be inside his head would be of great amusement, and education. Perhaps I am in the wrong, wanting to pick him apart, to settle within the folds of his brain, but it is simply who I am. To understand has been my purpose, and due to my stubborn nature, of course I had settled in the fields of one of the most misunderstood practices. How joyful. I am beginning to think I too, possess masochistic tendencies.

–

If it was possible, the look he had given me the next day was was even more fearsome than that of the previous. This time, his teeth had curled back over his canines, and a guttural growl echoed the room. His eyes had narrowed to slits, the black rings encompassing those orbs of his. He was quite displeased with the situation, and Gaara made that quite clear to me. Instead of antagonizing him like I wanted to, I kept a stoic expression.

"Hello to you too." I forced out, my tongue feeling heavy against the roof of my mouth. I was determined to not say something witty, to further upset him, but I found myself cursing silently up to the Heavens when I did the exact thing I was telling myself not to do. "Seems like a wonderful day we're having, doesn't it?"

I sounded too chipper, and I almost jumped when his hand came down upon the wooden table. For a moment, I feared he had hurt himself, before I was promptly reminded that this wasn't about me, but about him. He was in control, in that little world of his. This was a game to him, a charade to see who could last the longest. My own lips curl over my teeth in a small, bit still noticeable smirk. I was proud, for having irked him. It showed me that behind that mask, there was still something that could be salvaged. There was also a good chance I could be reading too deeply into this, but I had a terrible habit for putting all my apples in one basket. I was either right, or I was dead wrong, and sadly, I didn't learn my lesson the first time. All of these are far from redeeming qualities for someone in my field, but as long as I didn't mess up on a legal scale, they were generally overlooked; I was just /that/ good.

"I'm sure you remember, but my name is Doctor Breen. I'm going to be working with you one on one for a while. Now, it says in your file, that your sister admitted you?" I say calmly, forcing my head back into the game. I could revel in sick revelation later, when I wasn't on the clock, and my every move being being monitored by both patient, and potential coworkers. Still, Gaara said nothing, those eyes still narrowed, but his hand retracted, fingers curling onto his lap as he looked at me. "Correct me if I'm wrong, will you? I detest misinformed files, and sadly, within my line of expertise, it is indeed quite a common thing."

"Alas, much to my dismay, I must go over standard procedures, along with some personal ones, that will help me further assess if I am indeed a good match for you. You understand that everything that is said between us, will remain confidential, unless either your life, or the lives of other alive beings are put at risk?""

I hated this part. It always made me seem stiff, like it was just a job. However, the law was the law, and I wasn't about to go breaking it. One of his fingers twitched. I took it as a yes. "You also understand that your file may be potentially pulled to be reviewed by those higher up than I, given that I have been called in from another country?" Another finger twitch. At least it was better than being openly ignored, I suppose. "Do you also understand that I am here as a last resort? Your reputation proceeds you, Mister Gaara. I was informed you were quite fond of it. May I inquire why?"

His lips curled upwards, no, they stretched upwards and for the first time, I witnessed the maniacal individual that I was currently trying to get to know. Perhaps harass would be the correct word for what I was doing, but I wasn't going to admit that. He almost looked serene in his self proclaimed insanity, though his brows furrowed together when he noticed I didn't give the reaction he was looking for, or at least, I was assuming he was trying to get a reaction. He could make both of our lives so much easier by just talking to me, even if it was a lie. It would show interest, even if false. He knew this, and he avoided it, or at least he did until he opened his mouth, and raspy words tumbled forth.

"Nobody fucks with someone who won't hesitate to slit your throat." he practically purrs. A shiver runs down my spine. He was most certainly right about that. His words didn't phase me, as much as his voice did. It was deep, puberty had clearly been kind to him in that department, but it was thick, as if he hadn't had anything to drink for days. I had been pondering if he was a mute by choice, but this blew that theory out of the water. Now, I was wondering if he was being given water. He didn't cough, and he said nothing else, allowing a heavy silence to wash over us. What I wouldn't give to know just what he was thinking…

"True. I will give you that, but no one fucks with someone who times a well placed brow raising in their general direction as well." He did exactly that, amusement dancing in his eyes for a brief moment (I confess, I may also be seeing things. Sleep is difficult when you're far from home). "It's all about body language, but you already know this, given your disposition."

This was said as a fact. I was letting him know I knew he was smart. I coyly let him know that I was on the same page as he was, and hummed quietly, tapping my fingers on my clipboard. His eyes flicked downwards, towards the digits. My statement was far from acknowledged, which I expected. The response I had been provided had caught me off guard, but thankfully, school had all but beat that out of me. Never show your emotions, for they will latch on and begin feeding, sucking you dry of everything they could before you collapsed. It was then, that they would tilt your head upwards, with that wayward smile resting on their content faces as they looked upon the damage they had wrought. This was their purpose in life. To take something as precious as a life, and to snuff it out. It was their design, albeit flawed. They didn't see it as such, however, which is why people like myself, had jobs.

"Do you know they call you an anomaly?" I ask suddenly, breaking the quiet. I was certain he did, but the reason for my question was not without reason. From what I gathered, he disliked pointless things, as did I. It would make my job much easier if we were on the same page from the get go. I watched him, his head tilting downwards, and that smile seeming to crack his face open. He quite liked that, didn't it? To be one of a kind.. It certainly fit the diagnosis of narcissist quite well. Perhaps they did get something right, but I doubt it, given that he clearly lacked any signs of dementia and he most certainly wasn't struggling with depression.

"Its a good feeling, isn't it, to be one of a kind? I'm quite fond of it myself, given that I have to be shipped around the world to assist people. There are not many in my field of work that can boast such a feat. Do not mind me, however, given that I am bragging right now. An attempt at a connection that is going horribly wrong, judging from the look that is snaking its way onto your face. I'm not going to apologize, given that we are here to learn about one another, me more so than you, but that is besides the point, I find."

I could tell he was angry now, despite the rather passive look that rest upon his face. Our eyes never disconnected, and it was oddly intimate, or at least, as intimate as such a situation could be. How I longed to reach out, and cup his face, to press my forehead against his and will my existence into his head. I needed to understand, I had to.

"Why are you here?" he asks, his voice monotonous. It sounded odd, something in such a rich baritone sounding so dead. I fought off the urge to snicker and make a terrible joke about dead babies. Certainly, my humor wouldn't be appreciated right now, or ever more likely than not. Dead babies were a refined taste, much like my interest in specific humans, and while macabre humor tended to work with them, Gaara clearly lacked the ability to laugh.

"What are you looking for me to say? I'm here to help? I'm here because they had no one else? I'm here because it's my job? That's a loaded question you just asked, with vexed meanings." I muse, tapping a finger deliberately against my lower lip. "You're not the type of person looking for what I have to bring to the table, you're looking for a specific answer, and I'm afraid I cannot give it to you. Yet."

My voice drawls out the last word, making it quite clear that I had no intentions of leaving as his psychologist whatsoever. He presented me with a problem, an equation without an answer, and I had to find a way to solve it. Hell, half the question was missing, and was replaced with a grin that told me that I wasn't going to get all the information that I needed. He goes back to saying nothing, teal eyes shifting away from my frame, as he leans forth to carefully grasp the styrofoam cup of water that was resting in front of him. I also take this moment to look away from him, pushing the back end of my pen in my mouth, as I contemplated just what I was going to write down. He was making this incredibly difficult, and I doubted that Hatake would be alright if I just wrote down that he was being a miserable prick, even if it was the truth. Anyone could see that, and for the amount I was being paid, he surely wanted results.

Grinding my teeth against the plastic, I frown. For once, I needed a game plan that I couldn't just wing. Gaara was unlike the rest. I had thought them genius, but they paled in comparison to the man sitting before me, who's eyes were more than likely glued to me again. It made me wonder just what he was fully capable of if would be allowed to roam free and live the way he wanted to. That sparked the question if he even wanted to be around others, given that it said that he only lashed out when he was pestered. So.. Why didn't he lash out now? Those chains wouldn't hold him back if he truly wanted to harm someone, and I had a nagging feeling that he would be agile enough to evade the guards for a short time. I narrow my eyes, looking up before gasping, my pen dropping with a quiet thunk against the wood. It rolled onto my lap, and I subconsciously pushed myself further against the chair, trying to sink into the comforting material.

He was right there.

I'm unsure how I didn't hear him. Was I truly so lost within my thoughts that I had made the rookie mistake of spacing out? I could feel my heart hammering against my chest, desperate to break out of the confines of my ribs. I could taste his breath, thick and minty. Clearly, dental hygiene meant something to him. How I had the time to be thinking about his teeth right now, baffled me, but I felt frozen. Things like this have happened before, but it lacked the cunning motive that Gaara clearly had brewing in that head of his. It lacked the situational awareness that wasn't meant to frighten me. His tongue drew forth from behind his cracked lips, and darted over the flesh that rest under my eye. I suppressed a shudder. My cheek had been licked before, my neck, but never had such a slippery organ come so close to something so vulnerable. He doesn't linger long, and I could feel his mouth rise close to my ear, where his voice echoed, as I sat there, looking stunned.

"I bet you'd taste delicious."

I don't think he meant that in a sexual manner.

The sudden thud of him being slammed down against the table shook me out of my stupor, and when I registered just what had happened, his head was being pulled back by thick fingers, exposing his face to me. He was laughing, the sound choked from the strain on his throat, and his eyes were wild. I had thought he looked untamed before, but now? Even I was terrified by the sight presented before me. His laugh hit an unnatural octave, and I winced, before the guard slammed his face back down against the table, and he hissed, bucking his body upwards in an attempt to wind the man holding him down. On the size scale, Gaara was clearly in the disadvantage, but I still heard the grunt come from the other man. I sat there, unsure of what to do, unsure of how to do anything outside of breathing, and even then, I was faced with new found confusion. My breaths were ragged, my mouth heaving air in the most unceremonious way. Surely, I wasn't getting what I needed to keep my brain functioning, but I didn't have time to dwell on that, before Gaara's body suddenly went limp, the snarl falling off his face. The fight vanished almost immediately, and he was lifted up, his eyes lolled in the back of his head as he was tossed onto the chair. A warm hand is pressed against my shoulder, and I look up, blinking.

"Are you alright, Doctor Breen?" a kind voice asks me. I merely nod my head, my attention returning to the limp figure of my patient. Seeing him out of it, was different. I immediately decided I didn't like it.

"He's done that before. He's a predator, and quite clearly, you became the prey." the voice says again. I finally make it out to be female. "He almost suffocated his last therapist with the same technique. Once his fingers get around you, they're almost impossible to get off. The guy has a stunning pain threshold."

My head still spinning, I rest it against the palm of my hand. This was unlike me. I had dealt with worse, but there was something off in that time bomb, something that made me feel inferior. I could almost hear that blasted ticking. "Well, I would thank you, but he shouldn't have been punished so harshly. I dropped my guard, and he took advantage of it, as he is expected to."

I heard someone click their tongue disapprovingly. There was an air of disagreement floating around now, and my reaction to being attacked was the center of it. One could not deny that I presented a fine point, but I could also not deny that I was somehow rendered unable to do anything from just his voice alone. "Honestly, you cannot punish a dog for doing what is within its nature, and within Gaara's nature, is to do exactly what he did."

"Which is exactly why we take the proper precautions." comes Kakashi's voice. "He's a danger to himself, and to society. Due to recent behaviour, we allowed him out of the straightjacket, but that was apparently a mistake."

You could good behaviour your way out of a straightjacket? The more you know.

"Well, he's certainly not going to harm anyone now, all slumped over like that." I scoffed, waving my hand rather dismissively. I could feel daggers being glared into the back of my head, and the woman in the room shuffles forth, and moves to take Gaara's vitals. Check the blood pressure, monitor the breathing, all that medical shit I could never get into. When she was more than certain he was fine, the stops fussing over him, taking a step back to let the guards know that he was safe to be moved. Then, she turned to look at me, as if I had done something wrong.

"That's the third time this week we've had to put him under, you know." she says shrilly. Immediately, she reminded me of a shrew.

"I do now."

"Come on, Sakura, no need to be harsh. Every doctor we've had in here has made the same mistake, and it has resulted in the same course of action. I'm sure Doctor Breen here had no intentions of having him pumped with drugs." Kakashi interjects. He tossed her a warning look, and the lady named Sakura (Who also had pink hair; how fitting), puffed out her chest, but held back whatever nasty comment she wanted to make. She clicks her tongue again, looking disapprovingly at me. Apparently, I had made quite a bad impression on her, which was honestly fine by me. She was a nurse, I was a psychologist. We had different purposes in this world, and as long as Gaara wasn't knocked out again, I think I should be fine.

"You'd think one of them would actually read the files, Kakashi." she says, turning her nose in the air before storming off. I was once again unsure of just what to do. Did I chase after her and apologize? Doctor Hatake seemed to be used to this, as he only sighed, and ran a hand through the mop on his head. He then proceeded to crack his knuckles and offer me a rather sheepish look.

"She cares about the patients?" he offered in a way of an explanation. It would do for now, but I was certain there was more hiding under the slowly bubbling surface. Eventually, I'd find out, as it was part of both my job, and my obnoxiously nosy attitude. Copying Gaara, I say nothing, and bite at my lower lip, raising a hand to press under my eye. Kakashi clearly sensed I was disgruntled, as he gave me a nudge.

"He said he thinks I would taste delicious." I say in response to his careful attempt to pull me back into reality. "Now that, was not listed in the files." I could feel the frown etch itself onto Kakashi's face.

"It most certainly is not. Is that what he said, word for word?"

"No, he said he bet I would taste delicious. A bit odd, considering that isn't something you say to someone who you haven't even taken out on a date." There it was, my terrible sense of humor. It drew a dry laugh from Kakashi. "Bet he's a real charmer when it comes to the ladies."

"Doctor Breen, you have no idea."

"How rude. Now you've gone and intrigued me."

And there we have chapter two! :)