.:(X):.

A/N: Hello again. So I finished this a little bit sooner than I predicted sooo here you go! Thank you muchly to my new followers, hope I will live up to you expectations. You know what would totally help me do that? REVIEWS :D... No?... Ok, I'll shush now. Enjoy

In just twelve short hours Gaara had found himself wishing he was back in the hard hospital bed two floors down. He almost missed the smell of antiseptic and the rambling night watchmen; at least that cramped little room felt somewhat clean. The communal area of Ward B was dotted with worn out furniture, threadbare grey carpet and that same irritating white paint on the walls, only here it was chipped, cracked and stained in various places. Gaara could have sworn some of those chips looked like claw marks from patients losing it. The cafeteria didn't seem much better, though it was cleaner. The old plastic vinyl flooring sounded like tape being pulled away from the hospital slippers patients wore with every step. The tables, like in the common area, were bolted to the floor, though these were made of hard plastic. The food was utterly tasteless, even more so than what Gaara had been served downstairs. He sat idly picking at his tray as he observed the other patients, some attempting to use the flimsy plastic cutlery they had been issued, the ones who had clearly been here longer just used their fingers. Finally after the day was done, Gaara was introduced to the sleeping area - a room lined with similarly uncomfortable looking bedding to the emergency ward, all divided by thin white curtains.

Gaara found himself struck with a sudden sense of panic. It was bad enough being stuck in the common area and cafeteria with all these people, now he was discovering that all that stood between them and himself through the night was a weak sedative and a piece of cloth. Patients who didn't instinctively shuffle to their assigned bed were escorted by the nurses. As Gaara followed he noticed that each bed had a small name plate. He half glanced at each name plate as he walked past until he bumped into the now stationary nurse in front of him. He looked up at her, stunned after his trance-like state had been broken, then glanced back down at the name on the bed.

"Gaara. S"

Sleep didn't come easily. Even though I could feel the sedatives dragging me into what I hoped was a dreamless sleep, I could hear the patients who didn't respond to the medication. They were tossing around in their beds, some of them whispering to themselves. I could distinctly make out one girl crying quietly to herself whispering something like "leave me alone". Was there someone there with her? Were other patients really up and walking around? Where were the nurses? I couldn't fight off sleep any longer but as everything faded out I could've sworn I could hear someone walking around.

When Gaara woke he was back in the sand. But something was different: it wasn't like the morning he had been admitted. That day the sand had been warm and comforting, the sun shining down on his face, the waves gently washing onto the beach nearby. Now it was cold. The sky was black and streaked with silver and the wind blew across the sands like ice and he could hear the sea roaring, crashing down against the beach ferociously. Rain started to fall as the sound of the girl crying rang in Gaara's ears again. The cold pricked at his skin, making the fine hairs on his arms stand on end. The damp sand started to stick to his hair and skin unnaturally; soon his hands and feet were covered, the pressure of it made him shiver while the distant crying caused his chest to feel tight, slowly draining of any heat he could take comfort in. The sand crept up his arms and legs the more the rain fell and he began to panic, but he didn't struggle. Something about this seemed… right. The rain continued to fall like glass and Gaara felt a strange feeling of warmth on his cheeks, contrasting sharply against the cold that enveloped his very core. Just as the sand crept to his face and began to suffocate him, Gaara realised that he was crying.

Gaara woke gasping for breath, his face still streaked with moisture that he was quick to wipe away. Just as the shock began to wear off, he was once again startled when he looked up to see the puppeteer from yesterday in the bed across the room. His gaze was still fixed downward but he held his empty hands out in the same manner as he had done when Gaara had first seen him. In his mind he could still see the shoddily crafted puppet staring at him.

Gaara was still trying to catch his breath when the nurses swept through the room rousing the patients and sending them off to get their breakfast. Among them he saw the pink haired nurse he had seen in the emergency department, once again demonstrating her deceptive strength when a patient decided to have a tantrum and lay on the floor. She did not hesitate to haul the patient onto his feet and send him on his way with a stern warning. While he wouldn't say she frightened him, Gaara certainly found her intimidating, though that would be a great asset in this line of work. He also quickly spotted Dr Kabuto gliding between the nurses and patients straight toward him.

"Good morning mister Sabaku," he said cheerfully. "I trust you slept well?"

Gaara shifted uncomfortably, recalling lasts night's strange dream. "I told you to call me Gaara."

Kabuto chuckled quietly. "I see. Well, Gaara, I've just come to let you know that you've been scheduled for a private session with me after breakfast, so just stay back in the cafeteria and I'll come and collect you," he said. With that Kabuto turned on his heel, adjusting his glasses and glided back out of room.

"Private session?" Gaara thought. "It's bad enough I have to stay here, now they want to me to lay on one of those stupid sofas and talk about my feelings?"

Gaara sighed before going to the communal bathroom to freshen up, then made his way to the dining area. After somehow managing to digest what he assumed was eggs and toast, though he could have sworn it was rubber and cardboard, he fidgeted anxiously as the other patients were ushered into the common area. One female patient was in a particular hurry to leave and started shouting at the patients in front of her. Gaara couldn't help but stare. "A real short fuse on that one," he mumbled under his breath. Even though there was no way the girl could have heard him from across the room, her gaze shot over to Gaara, and as she started shouting profanities in his direction he didn't even try to listen. Rather, he made note of what she looked like. She seemed oddly familiar, though he couldn't recall ever meeting someone who looked so unique. Her thick, blonde hair was bunched up into four pony tails, her dark green eyes were hard, but there was some other feeling trapped behind those eyes. The girls yelling was soon interrupted by a nurse who lightly tapped her on the shoulder. The nurse was a wisp of a girl with short brown hair. Gaara almost worried that the blonde might lash out at her until she produced a small object and handed it to the larger women.

"Temari, why don't you join the others in the common room, it's time for your medicine," she said lightly. Temari huffed as she flipped open the small purple, paper fan and strutted off to the common room, fanning herself with her nose in the air.

The small nurse looked over at Gaara, smiled and bowed her head slightly as she left the room, only to be replaced with Dr Kabuto.

"Ah, Gaara. Come with me," he said, gesturing toward to the door.

A/N: ok so yeah you caught me I'm still kind of experimenting with things like sentence and paragraph structure. I'm saaaaaaaarry. But apart from that I hope your enjoying the story. What will we learn next? Will we find out more about the boy with the puppets? Will we see more of Temeri? How will Gaara's "private session" unfold?

Stick around to find out ;)

.:(X):.