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You're Pretty When You Cry	By : therar Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male > Gaara/Sasuke Views: 1552 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Naruto Characters or the Naruto series. I do not make any financial profti from this production.

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Gaara’s
face split into a cruel smile and his pale pupiless eyes looked over
at his Brother and Sister as a his sand slowly formed into a long
blade in his hands.

“You
two should leave now.” He told them.

Kankurou
looked at his younger Brother, then nodded turning away from it all
and taking his Sister with him

“Come
on, Temari. We won’t want to see this.”

Temari
whimpered at the thought of it all. She tried not too look her Father
in the eyes and just focuced on her feet. “Are we really
letting this happen?”

“Yes.”
Kankurou started and kept walking, dragging Temari as best as he
could. This was the best. Their Father had served his time in this
life and he made the decisions that lead to this. Their younger
Brother was getting better; they could see it happening inside his
once hate filled body. Something happened back at leaf with that
Naruto kid and whatever had happened, it had evoked something that
was thought to be non existent within the red head. Gaara, their
fucked up little Brother, was trying to make his world something less
fucked up.

Gaara’s
eyes slid back to his father in the sand vise then down at the sand
blade in his hand.

“You
can’t do this. I’m your Father and leader remember?
Without me you'd be nothing! This village would have casted you out
and you'd have perished in the desert you were born in!”

“I
remember”, he growled lowly. “I remember every desperate
murmur, every dying whisper. All done for your sake, to give my life
meaning, so that I could say that I was alive.”

His
Father swallowed audibly and Gaara could taste the fear in the air,
the thought of death a blood coming to mind. The thought of vengeance
finally being carried out gave him a sick thrill and Shukaku chuckled
through him. His green eyes switching from green to gold and black.

“I
remember working every victim with acute precision, I remember the
taste of each and everyone’s blood.” Shukaku called out
from Gaara’s mouth as he swung the blade across the man’s
chest.

The
helpless Kazekage cried out after the second slash slid from left
breast bone to right hip, “Don’t do this!.” he
clutched the wide open wound, his very life pouring from it quicker
than he could form words.

“I
remember every tone and timbre of all I’ve killed”
Gaara's voice cracked, one of the monsters eyes returned to the
host's form. “Every word they spoke begging for my mercy.”
Shukaku laughed slashing the sand sword across the mans neck.

Blood
spilled over the man’s body and the sand. Slowly, Gaara’s
hand went slack the blade turning back into sand as it should have
always been. His father’s body falling limply to the ground
with a loud, lifeless thud when the sand let go of his slashed body.

“I
will remember this too.” Gaara whispered to the dead man before
turning away the sand automatically lifting the body from the ground
to carry it behind him. Gaara's body felt much heavier than the dead,
lifeless weight behind him.

Kankurou
nodded at him when he came up to them and he nodded back. Temari’s
eyes went wide when she saw the state of their dead father’s
body.

“Oh
dear god?” The urge to run to her dead Father's body was
overwhelming but she kept telling herself why this had to be done. It
was either this or go with the endless list of wars their Father had
lined up for her youngest Brother. Gaara always went on about the
pleasure of killing but even she knew what war could do to the most
hardened warrior. Her little monster of a Brother would finally snap
for good. His life derserved to be more than a weapon for their
village.

“It
had to be done, they can’t realize it was us who killed them.”
Kankurou stated, even though his body gave a queasy flip flop.

“Let’s
go. I’m done with this” He turned from then and stared
down at the corpse. “I've decided I’m going to be the new
Kazekage.” Gaara stated almost blankly as he walked on.

“You
sure the village is going to like that idea?”

Gaara
stopped and looked back over his shoulder at his older Brother's
comment, “Do you think they will tell me no?”

Kankurou
smirked, “I doubt it.”

Temari
just sighed, ignoring the sound of gathering flies behind her.

XXXX

The
cross stood erected in Sand, surrounded by rocks that had been washed
to a clear white, marked the Grave of the Yondaime Kazekage. A leader
of the people of Sunagakeru and a protector of the village hidden in
the sand had died a widower with three children. The youngest, now
the Godaime Kazekage, stood before it. The long, immaculate robes
fluttered around in the evening winds, the temperatures much cooler
compared to that of the afternoon blaze of the desert sun. A few
desert lilies adorned the lonely grave and had begun to wilt after
being left two days prior. Gaara doubted his older sister had really
wanted to bring an offering to her late Father's memorial site but
she once told her blunt little Brother that their Mother wouldn't
have approved of her not going. Apparently the resentment wasn't just
something Gaara had developed but the red head still struggled to
understand how the influence of a dead woman could have that much of
an effect on someone as hot headed at Temari.

Still,
Gaara often wondered if he would have been the same if given the
chance to know his late Mother.

The
moon was rising. In a few moments it would be aligned perfectly with
the cross. Shukaku was cackling to himself with dire anticipation and
Gaara had to inwardly tell the beast to calm down like a misbehaving
puppy. A long shadow stretched across the sapphire coloured sands
of the night and stopped just before the Fifth Kazekage's feet
despite the orb of white continuing to rise in the air. A figure
emerged before Gaara's eyes, it's body perched atop the cross like a
patient vulture. The red head glared at the transparent skin, the
hair untouched by wind and the eyes that he mentally protested looked
nothing like his own. There sat Gaara's Father. A ghost of the desert
graveyard doomed to walk the land of living but never fully live or
die. The top half of dead man's body was illuminated in lunar light
while the bottom was swallowed by the shadows. It seems that even the
dead still harboured the physical scars the accumulated in life; the
Yondaime's bare torso was covered in scattered wounds, most of them
inflicted by Gaara when the Father had tried to train his Son as a
sand weapon.

“What
a pleasure”, said the spirit in an unremarkable tone. “An
evening visit from the Kazekage” Gaara could see pieces of
Kankuro in the man's face and it was unsettling. He kept a blank
expression though, his face never twitching and barely a blink of his
eyes. “It's been nearly two years since you last came by to
mock your dead Dad. Has the anniversary got you missing you're old
man?”

He
was definitely as cocky as Kankuro. Just then, the former Kage of the
Sand sighed and rested his head into the palm of his ghostly hand.

“Forgive
you're old Father, Gaara. Death has not been the relief many would
love to believe it is”. Gaara wasn't sure if this was a tactic
but it wasn't like the dead man could pull any tricks in his state.
He'd have nothing to gain from it. Their last encounter like this had
taken them both by surprise and they were far from shy about
expressing their utmost hate for each other. Time seemed to have worn
the bastard out while it had only strengthened Gaara's mental
control. “Is there a reason you've actually come to my grave
tonight, boy? I hardly think it's to pay any respects you've kept all
to yourself”

Gaara
took a few steps forward, the frozen age and weariness becoming
clearer in his dead Father's face. “I'm came here to request
something” He stopped, head slightly bowed.

The
ghost laughed, not with contempt or mock at this out of the blue
request but just at the sheer irony of it all. “I'd be
honoured, Kazekage. How can I help you?”

“Do
you forgive me for killing you?”

XXXX

Itachi
and Kisame stepped into the temple where they had been summoned. One
of Itachi's crows had brought a letter stating the Jinchuriki had
been captured and they were needed immediately to extract the spirit
before the enemy had a chance to find them. They made it back within
four hours and were given the task of keeping an eye on the
unconscious host until the other could arrive too.

While
the blue shark had taken the opportunity to do some light butchering
of any nearby critters, Itachi allowed himself to relax in the quite
room of cave walls. Even if the Jinchuriki did happen to wake up, he
was heavily drugged about wouldn't be able to tell the difference
between up or down. A couple of groans and stirrings here and there
but they were useless escape attempts. During all this, Itachi
noticed the captured Kazekage mumbling to himself under his breadth.

Whether
it was a stupid decision or not, Itachi crept as close as he could
out of curiosity, his right ear a few inches from the doped up red
head. It was an interesting surprise for the outlawed Uchiha to hear
his little Brother's name being whispered on the lips of death
sentenced demon.

XXXX

Everything
felt so light. This vast, maybe endless, void of white. This wasn't
what that bast-what Father had described it to be like. Was there a
different kind of death for each individual? Was this the place of
eternal light that many of the elders prattled about? Was this the
spiritual land called Heaven? If that's true, then why am I here,
Gaara thought. Wasn't Heaven a place where angels greeted the souls
of the pure and the innocent? The red head could see no angels; no
golden wings or glowing faces. There wasn't a voice that called you
forward to the land of the spirits. There was no inner peace. Only a
wide, empty space. Gaara looked down at his body. It was still his;
nothing out of place or out of the ordinary. Except for one thing. He
touched the area over his heart and then his forehead. He was empty
too. Shukaku was gone. Yes, he was truly dead. So, what now? He
looked at his right hand, wondering if he could still conjure his
sand in this strange place even without the demon spirit. Did it
really matter though? There was no-one to fight. No village to
protect. No older Brother or Sister to be pestered and teased by.
There was nothing any more and there never would be. There would be
no chance to find out now; a chance to find that person Naruto had
told him about.

I
really wanted to find that person. I wanted someone to need me as
much as I need them. I....wanted to find love.

Gaara
let his empty hand fall, ready to accept his given fate. He could let
it all go and just fade away into this endless place, forget it all
and become nothing. Something caught his hand. It felt warm and it
pulled him up to stand. It was no angel but it was a heavenly sight
in a place like this.

“Sasuke?”
The Uchiha nodded, his dark locks brushing over his eyes as he did.
He seemed different somehow. Sasuke was always like Gaara's sand; a
shell to protect something darker and softer inside. Only, Sasuke
didn't have a gourd of deadly crystals to keep him hidden from the
world that wanted him beaten, bruised and broken. All Sasuke had was
himself. Gaara had a demonic voice of death in his head. Difficult to
tell which if the lesser of two evils when both can consume your body
and soul. Naruto may know what it's like to feel truly alone and
rejected for what you are but he never knew the reason behind at
first. Naruto was a good friend to have, someone who would always be
there. But there was something different about Sasuke. Something
darker. Gaara was able to see the desire to hate and hurt in those
eyes from first glance. A need to kill, to feel fulfilled and end the
suffering. Gaara hadn't realised it until a certain sequence of
events, but he found himself attracted to those eyes.

“Why
are you here?” The touch around Gaara's hand squeezed a little
tighter.

“I'm
what your mind desires most at this time. This is where all spirits
go before they cross over to the other side. I'm here to make you're
last wish comes true” Gaara looked over this being that seemed
to be Sasuke. The red head had never seen the Uchiha's bare body
before but it seemed his imagination was was figuring it for itself.
Fully naked and glowing from tip to toe. A face so soft and warm that
it could belong to a dark haired angel sent to lift a spirit from a
cold and lonely place where only the foulest and more desecrated
creature lurk. Gaara kept a hold of the hand in his, suddenly fearful
that if he let go he may fall.

“But,
you cannot be the real Sasuke. I'm dead aren't I?” Gaara kept
his tone flat, never daring to show a sign of weakness even if there
was no need.

“This
is true but we cannot bring the living into this world. Only those
who are locked in-between.”

“Go
away” The spirit's eyes widened. Maybe this was the first time
someone had rejected a dying wish? However, Gaara doubted this
illusion would want to or could even think of doing what Sasuke does
to whatever he touches, especially Gaara's body. The red head tried
to crack a smile to apologise but he couldn't force it, not even in
this realm.

“Trust
me, spirit. There are things that go on in the mind of the person you
are trying to impersonate that you could never do and even if you
did, you are still not Sasuke Uchiha. Besidies,” Gaara leaned
in close, a smirk that could shake the scales off Orochimaru's back
crossing over his lips, “I wouldn't want to stain that pretty
face of yours” The stubborn red head folded his arms. The poor
spirit just looked on in confusion, this wasn't something it was used
to or knew how to react to either.

“Why
are you here anyway? I do not fully understand your purpose. Surely
my true desire would be to finally see my Mother before I pass on to
next hell I'm destined to suffer?” The spirit tucked its hands
behind itself and rolled on the heels of its feet.

“Nope”,
it said casually. “That seems to be what you've told yourself
but your mind has told us that there's nothing you would ask your
Mother that you don't already know and your siblings have provided
you with everything you ever wanted to know too. If you require the
embrace of your Mother's arms before passing on, we can arrange that
but I believe that would be a waste of both of efforts right? ”
The spirit took a step closer and placed a hand over the red Kanji on
Gaara's forehead.

“Up
here, there's something you truly want to understand and experience
but you've seemed to keep it hidden from yourself. Almost like you're
embarrassed to admit this attraction” The shadows around
Gaara's eyes grew very thin all of a sudden. He batted the spirit's
hand away and shook his head quickly.

“That's
not true. He attacked me and kissed me when I was vulnerable! He even
drank my blood!”

“I
don't hear you saying you didn't like it”, the spirit smirked,
looking a lot more like Sasuke for a quick moment. Suddenly, the
spirit looked around and cocked its head as if it was trying to hear
something in the distance. The spirit smiled. “You're going
back”

XXXX

Naruto's
eyes were truly something wondrous. Gaara had awoken to a feeling of
dire panic like he was being dropped from a great height and had no
way to save himself. A hand had touched his shoulder and Gaara had
turned to see a look so comforting and full of warmth that the red
head could have melted beneath it. A good friend is always welcomed
when you come back from the brink of death.

~TBC~

When
I first created this fic, it was never mean to go further than the
first chapter. Zimmy created that first scene that inspired this
whole thing. So I used it for this third installment and added a few
touches to help it all fit together. I'm always at how much my soul
can get written and how well it's written too. I'm easily distracted
and I can't really come up with ideas unless I’m given some
sort of brief so she's always an inspiraction for me and I hope we
can continue writing for a long time ^_^ (woah, gay meter just went
up a few notched there didn't it? lol_
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You're Pretty When You Cry