Ch 12 Blood

C h a p t e r T w e l v e

It wasn't supposed to feel this way. The momentary high was almost orgasmic to him, but after Sasuke felt himself inching back down into the realm of reality the cuts began stinging with otherworldly fierceness. They had never felt like that. There was always pain but...it was a pleasant pain. It was an addicting kind of pain, one that he craved like lines of cocaine. Lines of blood. He stared down at them, pressing onto his skin, trying to make the pain ebb. It didn't; it only grew fiercer as the crimson liquid raced down his arm and splattered onto his jeans.

He grabbed one of the sheets off the bed and smothered his arm in it. The crimson liquid bled through it quickly and he hastened to grab more. What had he been thinking giving himself eight cuts all at once, especially with nothing but bedsheets at hand? Had this place driven him completely mad? If Naruto saw this...

He was so dizzy all of a sudden...

And without preamble, he fell onto his bed like a drunk man and faded into a dimmer realm, far beyond St. Carson's hospital.

________________________________________

When Naruto awoke at almost seven o' clock that night he was feeling far better. He still wasn't well enough to chance dinner but at least he could move around again. Almost on instinct he looked to the bed beside him and saw Sasuke sleeping. His back was to him and he was still wearing his clothes and shoes. The blankets were twisted around his torso, as though binding him to the bed. The blond sighed - he probably hadn't even bothered to get dinner. Had his therapy session with Iruka gone that badly? Naruto had always figured the therapist to be a very nice man and he didn't think he would intentionally do anything to make one of his patients upset. But then again, Sasuke was Sasuke, and Sasuke liked to brood.

Naruto stretched, prodded his stomach a little, and then made to get out of bed, unceremoniously kicking the sheets into a heap on the ground. His eyes flicked to something on his bedside and he smiled. Someone had left a salad there - a little wilted but it looked fine nonetheless. He grinned at Sasuke's unconscious form. A small but rare gesture of affection and he was happy for it.

"Hey, you heartless bastard," Naruto laughed, jumping onto Sasuke's bed. He sprang on his knees like a giddy child and poked his boyfriend in the side. "Get up, don't you want to tell me about you therapy session? Oh that's right, you hate talking, I forgot."

He expected Sasuke to wake up, push him off of the bed and then make a big show of going back to sleep like he always did but he didn't even move. Naruto frowned.

"Sasuke!" he grumbled. "Get up, you lump! Come on! Get up! Sasuke!"

The raven haired boy stirred, lifting his head a bit and then falling back onto the pillow. Naruto tugged on the sheets entangling him.

"No, don't go back to sleep! You have to come with me to dinner! Who's going to make sure I eat all of whatever hideous concoction the evil cafeteria drones are force feeding the patients today?" He fell into a dramatic faint and landed on the pillow so that his face lined up with Sasuke's ear. The raven had his face buried so deeply in the pillow, Naruto wouldn't be surprised if he were trying to eat it.

"Naruto?" Sasuke asked, just barely turning his head to face him. "What are you doing up? Aren't you sick?"

"I'm feeling much better," Naruto told him. "I think it's passed."

"N-n-n-no." Sasuke tried and failed to stifle a yawn. "You should lay back down in case you get sick again. I...I don't mind if you skip dinner for one night. I don't want you to throw up again. Just go back to bed."

Naruto quirked an eyebrow. Sasuke didn't mind if he skipped dinner? Especially when he had already skipped lunch? That was odd. "Is something wrong?" Naruto asked, suddenly concerned. "You look exhausted. Did you catch the stomach flu, too?" He reached out to touch Sasuke's forehead and Sasuke reflexively jerked backwards.

"I'm fine," Sasuke grumbled.

"Your therapy session didn't go too well, did it?" Naruto asked sympathetically.

"No."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

Stubbornly, the raven buried his face back into his pillow. A pang of curiosity hit Naruto - now he really wanted to know what had gone on in that session but he didn't press the issue; Sasuke was clearly unhappy. Maybe he would want to talk about it after he had rested a while longer. He decided he would eat the salad Sasuke had brought him - it was a kind gesture and he was appreciative of it.

Pushing himself back up into a sitting position, Naruto grimaced as he felt something sticky between his fingers. He rubbed them together and examined it. Blood. Sticky, dark red blood. His fingers were almost entirely coated in a thin sheet of it, dribbling slowly down his palm. With a little jolt he began to search himself for wounds. Had he been pricked? Surely he would have noticed if he were bleeding so profusely? His eyes wandered to the sheets that were entangling Sasuke. There it was - almost hidden by the folds of the linen - was a large bloodstain, still wet.

Automatically, he reached out to seize the covers and ripped them forcefully off the raven. "Hey!" Sasuke protested irritably. He turned over, growling. And then there was a short gasp.

Naruto felt a heavy jolt hit his stomach and he wondered if he might throw up again. Rust-colored liquid had dried in torrents on Sasuke's left arm giving the impression of a long glove. A great splash of scarlet marred his t-shirt, causing the fabric to stick to his chest. Eight new slits had been cut neatly into Sasuke's skin, still open and dried and with thick blood.

As he took this in, Naruto felt a thousand emotions well within his chest and then boil over. The most powerful amongst them fluxuated between sadness and rage. He gaped, his mouth hanging open dumbly.

Sasuke stared back at him with a pleading expression on his face, trying to grab the sheets to hide his arms, as if obstructing their view would lessen the blow. "N-Naruto," he gasped. "Please listen - I - these cuts - they're - I " But before he could get a coherent sentence out, Naruto punched him square in the face. Blood gushed out of his nose and his vision went red. He went backwards and the impact of his head against the wall made him bite his tongue painfully. Who would have thought someone as small as Naruto could hit so hard?

Fury boiled inside the blond's chest. How could Sasuke betray the promise they had made? How could he even think words could justify what he had done?

Wiping blood off his face, the raven haired boy sat up and groaned. "Naruto, I'm sorry, I -" He recieved another punch to his cheek. His neck snapped to the side, giving him whiplash. He didn't try to retaliate - he knew he deserved whatever beating he got.

"What is wrong with you?" Naruto screeched so loud Sasuke winced. "Why would you cut yourself after you promised not to? Or did that promise just mean that little to you?"

"No Naruto, it didn't - "

"Or do I just mean that little to you?"

"No, you - "

"I hate you Sasuke."

And with that he leapt off of the bed, his fists clenched and stormed out of the room. The slam of the door seemed to echo in Sasuke's mind as he watched where Naruto had just been laying beside him, trying to coax him into consciousness. He felt numb. Never before had he felt guilt because of cutting. It had always been an intimate secret of his. There hadn't been any guilt when Itachi had found out, just a sense of rebellion and a small streak of rare, self-righteous independence. This was something his brother couldn't control - something that was his and only his.

But now his heart was spiraling with shame and guilt as well as the completely foreign want to run after Naruto, cry at his feet and beg forgiveness. His pitiful excuses to himself from hours ago seemed weak and stupid. Blood dripped from nose onto the collar of his t-shirt and he wondered if it might be broken - frankly, he didn't really care. In fact, he hoped it was. It was less than he deserved.

The raven forced himself stiffly to his feet and walked to Naruto's bed in a stupor. Slowly, he sat back down and leaned against the wall. He picked up his roommate's precious stuffed fox and cuddled it to his chest, careful not to get blood on it. He patted its head with his bloody hand as though it were his blue-eyed blond cuddling up to him as he so often did when he slept.

Naruto was in a silent fit of rage. He had chosen a desk in the back of the library to sit at and brood before he decided on his next course of action. Really, he wanted to go back and hit the bastard a few more times, maybe knock him into unconsciousness.

A little murmuring in his heart was telling him to go back there and comfort Sasuke, hear what he had to say, find out what made him betray his promise. He ignored that inclination - none of Sasuke's bullshit excuses were even worth listening to. Naruto had spent all of that time choking down breakfast, lunch and dinner for him, hadn't he? He had resisted any urge to throw it up afterwards or exercises until he couldn't feel his muscles or to buy diet pills off of any of the druggies he saw daily. All for him. And how was he repayed?

He clenched his fists to resist the urge to pound the table. How could Sasuke do that to himself? How could Sasuke do that to...him...? The thought of it almost made him want to cry...or scream, or break things or do something besides just sitting there.

"Something wrong, Uzumaki?" a deep voice asked. He didn't need to turn to recognize the owner.

"Hello Gaara," he greeted dully as the redhead took a seat beside him. Gaara took in the blond's face and the white knuckles of his clenched fists.

"Uchiha giving you troubles?" he asked conversationally.

"Yeah," the blond sighed.

"I will kill him for you."

Naruto's mouth almost twitched into a smile at Gaara's perfectly straight face as he said this. "No," he sighed. "I don't think you have to go that far."

"What has he done?"

Naruto lowered his head. He didn't really want to talk about it and he didn't really know why Gaara had chosen this moment to be so talkative - normally he even less social than Sasuke, which was saying something. Nonetheless he answered, "It...it just turns out he didn't really care about me."

Gaara raised a non-existent eyebrow. "He said that to you?"

"Well...no." Gaara didn't respond, just sat there and looked at him with soulless jade eyes. "He broke a promise he had made to me. Something really important. So I think it's safe to say that he doesn't care about me."

"I see," Gaara said with a nod. "And he didn't have a good reason to break this promise? He just...disregarded it?"

"Well...yes. No. I mean...I don't know. I didn't bother to find out."

Again, the red-headed boy didn't respond. Just gave him that look that made him fidget in his seat. He wondered if Gaara could see into people's souls? Or possibly read their minds? It sure felt like it. And that look he was giving him was making him listen to that little murmuring in his heart more carefully. Maybe he could be the one who was wrong here? Maybe he should have heard Sasuke out before hitting him and just taking off?

"I think Uchiha cares about you," Gaara spoke up suddenly. "You can see it in the way he looks at you."

"Do you... you think so?"

Gaara didn't answer. It must have been a stupid question.

"Has anyone else noticed?"

"No one pays attention enough to notice," Gaara told him. "Although I think Orochi-freak might have. Though he probably doesn't care."

Naruto nodded. What Gaara was saying was comforting...a little. Though he still wasn't ready to forgive Sasuke. And he certainly had no inclination to go eat dinner. A sadistic thought occurred to him - if Sasuke truly did care about him would it be sufficient enough punishment for the raven to see the blond starve himself until his weight had plummeted below ninety? Or eighty or seventy even? Yes, it would be nice for Sasuke to endure seeing someone he cared about harming themselves. Then he would know how it felt...

"I'm not a therapist by any stretch of the imagination but...I think you should go talk to the bastard. If you care about him, that is."

"Of course I care about him," Naruto said, almost automatically.

"Then perhaps you should give him another chance."

Naruto sighed, rubbing his temples. He didn't want to have to deal with this. He wanted to continue being righteously mad at Sasuke with no conscience to make him feel regretful - especially when that conscience was someone as unlikely as Gaara.

"You know what I don't get?" Naruto asked. "Why are you here giving advice on relationships when you should be out torturing animals or something?"

"Hiding from the nurses."

"Oh." He wasn't sure he wanted to know why.

________________________________________

As he promised himself he would, Naruto didn't eat dinner that night. He had stayed until late in the library playing Gin with Gaara until some nurses came in and yelled at them to get to bed. Gaara didn't say much after their talk about Sasuke but beat the blond at almost every game. (Naruto had only two sweet victories to savor, but he still managed to keep his pride.)

As they parted ways outside of the library (Gaara was probably heading for the basement instead of the dorms) Naruto felt his heart sink into his stomach. He would have to face Sasuke now that he was returning to his dorm...and it was much to late to go to one of his friends and ask if he could spend the night in their room. He almost turned back around to ask Gaara if he could stay in the dank rat-filled basement with him.

Slowly and quietly he turned the knob to his dorm room. No sound greeted him from within. He pushed it open all the way and looked around. Sasuke wasn't on his bed. Instead he was on Naruto's bed holding Kyuubi on his lap. His head was resting against the wall, lolled slightly to one side. He hadn't bothered to take off his stained clothes or clean off his arms; blood was dribbling down his chin from his nose - any nurse could have walked in and had him in incarceration so fast his head would spin.

Seeing him sleeping there, looking so uncharacteristically vulnerable, Naruto had to control the two sides of himself that were waging war against each other. One part of him wanted to wake him with a passionate kiss, wipe his arms for him and tell them that he was forgiven, regardless of why he had done it. The other part was felt nothing but renewed anger upon seeing him again, and wanted nothing more than to throttle him and bash in that pretty face of his.

So instead he simply walked over to Sasuke's bed and made himself comfortable in the bloodstained sheets. They smelled like metal but he ignored it. He couldn't decide whether he wanted to be in Sasuke's arms or never have to catch sight of him again.

That night he had nightmares all them haunted by the metallic smell of blood, with Naruto drenched in the sicking rust-colored liquid and Sasuke dead in his arms.