Crack Whims ch.17
Title: Crack Whims
Chapter: 17
Genre: Humour/General
Rating: T
Characters: Itachi, Temari
Prompt: Commonalities
Commonalities
Since the first meeting, they'd both taken part in an unspoken agreement to mind their own business.
Though Konoha and Suna were allies now, Temari didn't blame Itachi for being wary of her. His entire existence had been a lie wrapped within another lie, so she found herself slightly mistrustful herself when she'd first laid eyes on him in the waiting room.
She had to admit, she was surprised to see it was Sasuke in the psyche office instead of his brother, considering how the latter had slaughtered his entire family and all. But, for someone who'd committed mass murder, he looked remarkably well-adjusted.
Walking through the oak-panelled door with Gaara by her side, Temari paused short of the reception at the sight of him sitting in his usual seat. She vaguely realized this was their third time seeing each other.
Her gaze lingered on him for only a moment before she continued towards the receptionist and handed her an appointment form.
"He's here for Dr. Nami and Dr. Ketsuo," she said in an undertone, well aware of Gaara's discomfort as he hovered near her shoulder. "One o'clock."
The receptionist nodded. "He can go in. Dr. Nami is ready for him."
Temari nodded and moved away, giving Gaara an encouraging pat on the back. He gave her the closest thing he could to a doleful look and slowly started his way down the hall for room 101.
With that, Temari headed for her seat with brisk strides and sat down.
Itachi remained motionless, statuesque save for those moments where he flipped the page of his magazine. He didn't look at her.
Temari laid her head against the backrest and pursed her lips.
Gaara had recovered remarkably in the short time he'd been Kazekage, but remnants of his nightmare life with Shukaku were slowly creeping back in. He was having difficulty adjusting to the idea of sleep, the lack of which was leaving him paranoid and jumpy. In the few hours he did manage to scrounge up in the night, he woke up screaming with the furniture and windows shattering under the crush of sand.
Suna medic nins attributed it to stress and referred him to the only shinobi child psychiatrists that existed in a five hundred kilometre radius: a tiny, corner office located at the border of Amegakure.
This was his third appointment. All things considered, it was going pretty well.
Temari dropped her gaze to the dark-haired man sitting across the room, her fingers drumming against her knee.
She didn't know how long the Uchiha had been bringing his younger brother in, but in the end it didn't really matter. They hadn't exchanged a single word of greeting over the last three appointments.
She couldn't blame him. The entire situation was extremely delicate, not to mention private, and she dreaded the idea of invariably ending on the topic of Sasuke and Gaara's mental conditions. It was a taboo subject for her as much as it must have been for him.
Across from her, Itachi flipped another page.
Temari's eyes narrowed.
It was bad enough she had to sit there for two hours without someone to talk to, but even more so when there was someone sitting right in front of her. She rose to her feet and decided to take a stroll around the building.
It took all of five minutes before she'd made two laps around the place and found herself facing the same stairwell again. Rolling her eyes, she leisurely made her way back to the office, stopping long enough to get herself a bag of crackers from a vending machine.
When she walked back into the office, she found him still sitting there, eyes trained on his magazine.
Her upper lip curled into a sneer.
Without really thinking, she strode over to his side and casually dropped into the chair beside him. She earned a side glance as the movement jarred his seat, but his gaze returned to his magazine soon after.
Now that she was sitting next to him, she could see he was only a couple of years older than her. For such a lean, inconspicuous guy, she found it difficult to believe he was the infamous prodigy he was reputed to be. But then she remembered he'd been in Akatsuki, and was probably one of the few who'd extracted the Ichibi.
Then she kind of wanted to punch him in the face.
But bygones were bygones and it had all been part and parcel of an elaborate spy mission, so she couldn't really fault him. She figured he probably felt pretty shitty about it, anyway.
Temari eyed him for a moment, chewing her saltine crackers thoughtfully. Up close, he didn't seem standoffish as much as just demure and quiet. He was the sort of guy who minded his own business, the sort who made absolutely no show of his prowess and sat there as humble and harmless as a civilian.
A nice contrast to his brother, Temari thought wryly.
She dropped her gaze to his reading material.
It was a home and garden magazine.
Stifling a snort, Temari sat in silence for a minute more before she looked at him and held out the bag.
"Want one?"
Itachi lowered the magazine and glanced at the proffered bag. His gaze flitted to hers and Temari was mildly surprised by the weary look in his eyes.
"No, thank you."
Well, that was it. He'd killed the conversation with three words. Harsh, even if he was perfectly polite about it.
Temari popped another cracker into her mouth and looked out the window. She didn't feel like being agreeable today.
"It's raining," she commented.
Itachi lowered his magazine and looked at her.
In the village of Amegakure, the comment was about as trite as saying "I'm breathing."
"Yes," he said eventually. "It is."
Temari winced at the awkwardness. Then they looked at each other. After a moment, she extended a hand.
"I'm Temari."
He lowered his eyes to her hand before slowly reaching out to grip it.
He has daintier fingers than me, Temari noticed with slight annoyance.
"I know," he said in return. "Sasuke told me. You are the Kazekage's sister."
"And you're Uchiha Itachi," she replied. I know that because you slaughtered your family.
She didn't say that, of course, but they both knew she was thinking it. Seeking to dispel his discomfort, she smiled slightly. "Gaara told me you're Sasuke's brother."
He didn't fall for it, obviously, but looked slightly more at ease at the sight of her smile.
They fell into silence again. Temari crammed another cracker into her mouth to stem the embarrassment of another failed conversation. She tried again.
"Kind of weird how we're always here at the same time."
"Our appointments coincide," Itachi agreed, focused on his magazine. "Dr. Nami and Dr. Ketsuo work in rotations."
Dr. Nami handled the hypnosis therapy one day and Dr. Ketsuo the cognitive behavioural therapy another day. The boys spent an hour in each office. Then the doors would open at the same time and Gaara and Sasuke would emerge, exchanging unreadable looks when they met in the hallway and passed each other.
Then Sasuke would disappear into the office Gaara had just emerged from and vice versa, and another long hour would drag by.
Temari looked at his downcast eyes and frowned.
The bastard has prettier lashes than me, too.
"It's a far way to travel for both of us," she added.
He made a sound of affirmation and she flinched when she saw the magazine droop in his hands and his gaze turn distant. Like her, he was trying to distract himself and not dwell on his brother's condition, and like she'd anticipated, the topic had invariably steered to the heart of the matter.
Temari blew a gusty sigh and sank back into her seat. She hadn't made herself feel better, and she most likely had made him feel worse. She settled for summarizing both their feelings in a low mutter.
"Being the oldest sucks."
He didn't say anything. But glancing askance at him, Temari could have sworn she saw a small, wistful smile.
**********
When they met again, he was reading an article on menopause.
Temari stopped by his side and held out a paper cup full of fruit punch. He lowered the magazine and stared at it before looking questioningly up at her.
"It's not poisoned," she said, amused.
"Ah," Itachi said apologetically, taking it from her, "old habits."
Temari raised an eyebrow. "If it makes you feel any better..."
She reached out and took the paper cup back from his hands, taking a gulp of the fruit punch. Then she gave him a pointed look to show that she'd swallowed it before handing it back to him.
If he was surprised, he didn't show it. Instead, he said nothing and placed the cup on the side table. Temari sat down and watched him lazily, determined to find a topic that wouldn't lead back to their brothers.
"Do you wear mascara?"
Itachi slowly raised his head. Looking at her, he realized she was half-joking, and she shrugged at the expression on his face. "You have really nice eyelashes."
"Temari-san," he said finally, straightening in his seat. "Is there something you want?"
"Yes," she replied flatly. "Conversation."
"It feels rather one-sided, don't you think?"
"If you actually participated, that wouldn't be the case, would it?"
His lips twitched. "You're asking all the questions."
She waved a hand flippantly. "Hey, if you want to switch places, I'm all for it."
She was annoyed. He lowered his gaze with a sigh. She was worried, too. They both were. He could see what she was trying to do and appreciated the gesture, even if he wanted no part of it.
"I apologize," he said eventually. When she looked at him, he was gazing sightlessly at the wall ahead of him. "It's...difficult."
Her expression didn't change, but her eyes softened slightly. "I know."
She turned her head and looked out into the pouring rain outside the window. "I'm just trying to forget about it...at least for a little while."
They fell silent.
When Itachi spoke, his voice was almost lost in the thrum of raindrops striking the window.
"I suppose it's all right..." he murmured, voice mellow, "if it's just for a little while..."
Temari raised an eyebrow. When he held her gaze and said nothing, she took it as an incentive to follow up on the tacit invitation.
"Know any dirty jokes?"
Itachi stared at her. He supposed that, due to his stuffy upbringing and background, she expected the question to leave him flustered and embarrassed. It was obvious in the smug gleam of her eye and her affected movements as she drew her paper cup to her lips.
He idly tapped his fingers together and looked away.
"Actually..."
**********
Sasuke and Gaara emerged from the rooms twenty minutes later, meeting each other in the hall with stares that bespoke a grim sort of empathy. Then they turned and stepped towards the waiting room, only to still at the sight in front of them.
Itachi was already standing, waiting with his usual, placid expression, but there was a telltale twitch in the corners of his mouth. Behind him, Temari sat trying and failing to control her grin, hiding her mouth in the back of her hand.
Something that looked suspiciously like a juice stain splattered the floor in front of her.
Sasuke and Gaara exchanged glances, eyebrows raised.
**********
Five appointments later, he stopped picking up the magazines.
Temari found him waiting for her, his hands folded in his lap and eyes inviting as he nodded his head in greeting. Gaara vanished into the office and Temari sank heavily into the chair next to him.
"I'm stressed out," she groaned.
His voice was empathetic. "I thought it too soon for them to practice deep probe hypnosis. It's risky."
"It won't get ugly, will it?"
"We'll see."
Temari sighed, burying her face in her hands. She was too preoccupied with her worries to realize she was breaking their rule.
"Gaara's so out of it when it happens. He's so helpless."
Itachi was silent for a long moment. Then Temari opened her eyes at the feel of his fingers settling against her shoulder.
"That's why we wait," he murmured. "To shake them from their nightmares."
Temari wanted to kick herself for actually getting a lump in her throat, but she settled for resting her hand over his and laughing softly.
"You are such a freakin' sap, Uchiha."
Then a strangled yell broke the silence. Itachi met Temari's wide-eyed gaze for a moment before they instantly jumped to their feet and ran for the two adjacent offices.
Itachi whipped it open, finding Dr. Nami cowering under her desk as sand splintered and shattered the surrounding furniture. Gaara was standing in the middle of the room, dripping in sand and holding the side of his head, eyes squeezed shut.
It had been Itachi's first instinct to rush to the other room when he found the Kazekage standing there, trapped in a nightmare he couldn't escape from. But there was no guarantee the doctor would survive the brunt of the sand's violence in the time it took Temari to reach the room.
Stepping closer, Itachi held his hands up in a pacifying gesture.
"Gaara," he said calmly.
The Kazekage whipped his head towards him, eyes clouded with rage and fear. It was the same look he saw in Sasuke's eyes.
Itachi took another step towards him, black irises swirling red with his Sharingan.
Their eyes met. An instant later, a drowsy, serene look washed over Gaara's features and his arms fell limply by his sides.
"Sleep," Itachi ordered.
Gaara collapsed to the floor in an unconscious heap.
Releasing a sigh, Itachi deactivated his Sharingan and strode over to the limp boy, bending down to grab him under the arms and pull him into the armchair. Gaara sank into it, his head drooping over his shoulder. He was out cold.
In the other room, a window crashed as Sasuke hurled a chair through it, random spots of carpet and furniture catching fire from his Katon. Dr. Ketsuo had long since jumped out the window and Sasuke staggered aimlessly around the room, oblivious to the figure who'd appeared in the doorway.
Temari gaped, about to consider doubling back to the other room when she saw the teenager forming a seal that would undoubtedly reduce the building to a smoking hole in the ground.
Without wasting a second, Temari drew out her fan, raised it over her shoulder, and smashed it across the back of Sasuke's head.
The Uchiha dropped like a sack of potatoes.
She quickly put out the fire with a sweep of her fan and grabbed the unconscious Uchiha under the armpits, dumping him unceremoniously in the armchair.
Itachi arrived a moment later, slowing his stride when he took in the burnt, smouldering furniture and shattered window. Then his gaze dropped to his sleeping brother and he gave Temari a questioning look.
"I talked him out of it," Temari lied.
Itachi blinked, impressed. "...thank you."
"No problem," she said, easing into a guiltless grin. "Did Gaara...?"
"He's fine," Itachi assured her, checking his brother over. "He's asleep."
Temari looked at the way Itachi gently swept the bangs out of his brother's eyes and thanked the lord that duck butt hair hid the massive bump on his head.
They gathered their siblings and made their way out of the building, Gaara's arm slung around Temari's neck and Sasuke dangling over Itachi's shoulder. When they emerged outside, the rain had relented and sunlight swept the wet ground in bright, fleeting patches.
Temari raised her eyes to the dispersing clouds and squinted.
"Now what do we do?"
Itachi paused. "There is an inn not far from here. We can let them rest until they come to."
"And what do we do?"
He looked at her, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "There is an adjoining cafe."
Gaara's eyes slowly cracked open. Dim sunlight spilled over the bed through the single window in the unfamiliar room. He sat up laboriously, blinking drowsy eyes and glancing around for his sister.
His gaze settled on the window again, eventually, and he found her sitting outside in a patio, drinking tea and talking to Uchiha Itachi. She was laughing at something he'd just said.
Brow furrowing in confusion, Gaara's gaze dropped to the bedspread and he went completely still. Uchiha Sasuke was sprawled out next to him, snoring softly into his pillow. Gaara stared down at him, bewildered.
Of course, he slowly realized. I'm dreaming.
There was no possible way his sister would go for tea with Uchiha Itachi of all people and laugh in his company. And there was absolutely no way in hell he'd just woken up next to Uchiha Sasuke.
Right, he slowly convinced himself, exactly the way Dr. Nami had taught him. This is a just a strange, surreal dream. I am going to close my eyes and wake up properly in another hour.
With that, he reclined back against the bed and turned onto his side. His eyelids drifted shut and he paid no attention to Dream Sasuke draping an arm around his middle.
He had to admit, therapy was working wonders.
Chapter: 17
Genre: Humour/General
Rating: T
Characters: Itachi, Temari
Prompt: Commonalities
Commonalities
Since the first meeting, they'd both taken part in an unspoken agreement to mind their own business.
Though Konoha and Suna were allies now, Temari didn't blame Itachi for being wary of her. His entire existence had been a lie wrapped within another lie, so she found herself slightly mistrustful herself when she'd first laid eyes on him in the waiting room.
She had to admit, she was surprised to see it was Sasuke in the psyche office instead of his brother, considering how the latter had slaughtered his entire family and all. But, for someone who'd committed mass murder, he looked remarkably well-adjusted.
Walking through the oak-panelled door with Gaara by her side, Temari paused short of the reception at the sight of him sitting in his usual seat. She vaguely realized this was their third time seeing each other.
Her gaze lingered on him for only a moment before she continued towards the receptionist and handed her an appointment form.
"He's here for Dr. Nami and Dr. Ketsuo," she said in an undertone, well aware of Gaara's discomfort as he hovered near her shoulder. "One o'clock."
The receptionist nodded. "He can go in. Dr. Nami is ready for him."
Temari nodded and moved away, giving Gaara an encouraging pat on the back. He gave her the closest thing he could to a doleful look and slowly started his way down the hall for room 101.
With that, Temari headed for her seat with brisk strides and sat down.
Itachi remained motionless, statuesque save for those moments where he flipped the page of his magazine. He didn't look at her.
Temari laid her head against the backrest and pursed her lips.
Gaara had recovered remarkably in the short time he'd been Kazekage, but remnants of his nightmare life with Shukaku were slowly creeping back in. He was having difficulty adjusting to the idea of sleep, the lack of which was leaving him paranoid and jumpy. In the few hours he did manage to scrounge up in the night, he woke up screaming with the furniture and windows shattering under the crush of sand.
Suna medic nins attributed it to stress and referred him to the only shinobi child psychiatrists that existed in a five hundred kilometre radius: a tiny, corner office located at the border of Amegakure.
This was his third appointment. All things considered, it was going pretty well.
Temari dropped her gaze to the dark-haired man sitting across the room, her fingers drumming against her knee.
She didn't know how long the Uchiha had been bringing his younger brother in, but in the end it didn't really matter. They hadn't exchanged a single word of greeting over the last three appointments.
She couldn't blame him. The entire situation was extremely delicate, not to mention private, and she dreaded the idea of invariably ending on the topic of Sasuke and Gaara's mental conditions. It was a taboo subject for her as much as it must have been for him.
Across from her, Itachi flipped another page.
Temari's eyes narrowed.
It was bad enough she had to sit there for two hours without someone to talk to, but even more so when there was someone sitting right in front of her. She rose to her feet and decided to take a stroll around the building.
It took all of five minutes before she'd made two laps around the place and found herself facing the same stairwell again. Rolling her eyes, she leisurely made her way back to the office, stopping long enough to get herself a bag of crackers from a vending machine.
When she walked back into the office, she found him still sitting there, eyes trained on his magazine.
Her upper lip curled into a sneer.
Without really thinking, she strode over to his side and casually dropped into the chair beside him. She earned a side glance as the movement jarred his seat, but his gaze returned to his magazine soon after.
Now that she was sitting next to him, she could see he was only a couple of years older than her. For such a lean, inconspicuous guy, she found it difficult to believe he was the infamous prodigy he was reputed to be. But then she remembered he'd been in Akatsuki, and was probably one of the few who'd extracted the Ichibi.
Then she kind of wanted to punch him in the face.
But bygones were bygones and it had all been part and parcel of an elaborate spy mission, so she couldn't really fault him. She figured he probably felt pretty shitty about it, anyway.
Temari eyed him for a moment, chewing her saltine crackers thoughtfully. Up close, he didn't seem standoffish as much as just demure and quiet. He was the sort of guy who minded his own business, the sort who made absolutely no show of his prowess and sat there as humble and harmless as a civilian.
A nice contrast to his brother, Temari thought wryly.
She dropped her gaze to his reading material.
It was a home and garden magazine.
Stifling a snort, Temari sat in silence for a minute more before she looked at him and held out the bag.
"Want one?"
Itachi lowered the magazine and glanced at the proffered bag. His gaze flitted to hers and Temari was mildly surprised by the weary look in his eyes.
"No, thank you."
Well, that was it. He'd killed the conversation with three words. Harsh, even if he was perfectly polite about it.
Temari popped another cracker into her mouth and looked out the window. She didn't feel like being agreeable today.
"It's raining," she commented.
Itachi lowered his magazine and looked at her.
In the village of Amegakure, the comment was about as trite as saying "I'm breathing."
"Yes," he said eventually. "It is."
Temari winced at the awkwardness. Then they looked at each other. After a moment, she extended a hand.
"I'm Temari."
He lowered his eyes to her hand before slowly reaching out to grip it.
He has daintier fingers than me, Temari noticed with slight annoyance.
"I know," he said in return. "Sasuke told me. You are the Kazekage's sister."
"And you're Uchiha Itachi," she replied. I know that because you slaughtered your family.
She didn't say that, of course, but they both knew she was thinking it. Seeking to dispel his discomfort, she smiled slightly. "Gaara told me you're Sasuke's brother."
He didn't fall for it, obviously, but looked slightly more at ease at the sight of her smile.
They fell into silence again. Temari crammed another cracker into her mouth to stem the embarrassment of another failed conversation. She tried again.
"Kind of weird how we're always here at the same time."
"Our appointments coincide," Itachi agreed, focused on his magazine. "Dr. Nami and Dr. Ketsuo work in rotations."
Dr. Nami handled the hypnosis therapy one day and Dr. Ketsuo the cognitive behavioural therapy another day. The boys spent an hour in each office. Then the doors would open at the same time and Gaara and Sasuke would emerge, exchanging unreadable looks when they met in the hallway and passed each other.
Then Sasuke would disappear into the office Gaara had just emerged from and vice versa, and another long hour would drag by.
Temari looked at his downcast eyes and frowned.
The bastard has prettier lashes than me, too.
"It's a far way to travel for both of us," she added.
He made a sound of affirmation and she flinched when she saw the magazine droop in his hands and his gaze turn distant. Like her, he was trying to distract himself and not dwell on his brother's condition, and like she'd anticipated, the topic had invariably steered to the heart of the matter.
Temari blew a gusty sigh and sank back into her seat. She hadn't made herself feel better, and she most likely had made him feel worse. She settled for summarizing both their feelings in a low mutter.
"Being the oldest sucks."
He didn't say anything. But glancing askance at him, Temari could have sworn she saw a small, wistful smile.
**********
When they met again, he was reading an article on menopause.
Temari stopped by his side and held out a paper cup full of fruit punch. He lowered the magazine and stared at it before looking questioningly up at her.
"It's not poisoned," she said, amused.
"Ah," Itachi said apologetically, taking it from her, "old habits."
Temari raised an eyebrow. "If it makes you feel any better..."
She reached out and took the paper cup back from his hands, taking a gulp of the fruit punch. Then she gave him a pointed look to show that she'd swallowed it before handing it back to him.
If he was surprised, he didn't show it. Instead, he said nothing and placed the cup on the side table. Temari sat down and watched him lazily, determined to find a topic that wouldn't lead back to their brothers.
"Do you wear mascara?"
Itachi slowly raised his head. Looking at her, he realized she was half-joking, and she shrugged at the expression on his face. "You have really nice eyelashes."
"Temari-san," he said finally, straightening in his seat. "Is there something you want?"
"Yes," she replied flatly. "Conversation."
"It feels rather one-sided, don't you think?"
"If you actually participated, that wouldn't be the case, would it?"
His lips twitched. "You're asking all the questions."
She waved a hand flippantly. "Hey, if you want to switch places, I'm all for it."
She was annoyed. He lowered his gaze with a sigh. She was worried, too. They both were. He could see what she was trying to do and appreciated the gesture, even if he wanted no part of it.
"I apologize," he said eventually. When she looked at him, he was gazing sightlessly at the wall ahead of him. "It's...difficult."
Her expression didn't change, but her eyes softened slightly. "I know."
She turned her head and looked out into the pouring rain outside the window. "I'm just trying to forget about it...at least for a little while."
They fell silent.
When Itachi spoke, his voice was almost lost in the thrum of raindrops striking the window.
"I suppose it's all right..." he murmured, voice mellow, "if it's just for a little while..."
Temari raised an eyebrow. When he held her gaze and said nothing, she took it as an incentive to follow up on the tacit invitation.
"Know any dirty jokes?"
Itachi stared at her. He supposed that, due to his stuffy upbringing and background, she expected the question to leave him flustered and embarrassed. It was obvious in the smug gleam of her eye and her affected movements as she drew her paper cup to her lips.
He idly tapped his fingers together and looked away.
"Actually..."
**********
Sasuke and Gaara emerged from the rooms twenty minutes later, meeting each other in the hall with stares that bespoke a grim sort of empathy. Then they turned and stepped towards the waiting room, only to still at the sight in front of them.
Itachi was already standing, waiting with his usual, placid expression, but there was a telltale twitch in the corners of his mouth. Behind him, Temari sat trying and failing to control her grin, hiding her mouth in the back of her hand.
Something that looked suspiciously like a juice stain splattered the floor in front of her.
Sasuke and Gaara exchanged glances, eyebrows raised.
**********
Five appointments later, he stopped picking up the magazines.
Temari found him waiting for her, his hands folded in his lap and eyes inviting as he nodded his head in greeting. Gaara vanished into the office and Temari sank heavily into the chair next to him.
"I'm stressed out," she groaned.
His voice was empathetic. "I thought it too soon for them to practice deep probe hypnosis. It's risky."
"It won't get ugly, will it?"
"We'll see."
Temari sighed, burying her face in her hands. She was too preoccupied with her worries to realize she was breaking their rule.
"Gaara's so out of it when it happens. He's so helpless."
Itachi was silent for a long moment. Then Temari opened her eyes at the feel of his fingers settling against her shoulder.
"That's why we wait," he murmured. "To shake them from their nightmares."
Temari wanted to kick herself for actually getting a lump in her throat, but she settled for resting her hand over his and laughing softly.
"You are such a freakin' sap, Uchiha."
Then a strangled yell broke the silence. Itachi met Temari's wide-eyed gaze for a moment before they instantly jumped to their feet and ran for the two adjacent offices.
Itachi whipped it open, finding Dr. Nami cowering under her desk as sand splintered and shattered the surrounding furniture. Gaara was standing in the middle of the room, dripping in sand and holding the side of his head, eyes squeezed shut.
It had been Itachi's first instinct to rush to the other room when he found the Kazekage standing there, trapped in a nightmare he couldn't escape from. But there was no guarantee the doctor would survive the brunt of the sand's violence in the time it took Temari to reach the room.
Stepping closer, Itachi held his hands up in a pacifying gesture.
"Gaara," he said calmly.
The Kazekage whipped his head towards him, eyes clouded with rage and fear. It was the same look he saw in Sasuke's eyes.
Itachi took another step towards him, black irises swirling red with his Sharingan.
Their eyes met. An instant later, a drowsy, serene look washed over Gaara's features and his arms fell limply by his sides.
"Sleep," Itachi ordered.
Gaara collapsed to the floor in an unconscious heap.
Releasing a sigh, Itachi deactivated his Sharingan and strode over to the limp boy, bending down to grab him under the arms and pull him into the armchair. Gaara sank into it, his head drooping over his shoulder. He was out cold.
In the other room, a window crashed as Sasuke hurled a chair through it, random spots of carpet and furniture catching fire from his Katon. Dr. Ketsuo had long since jumped out the window and Sasuke staggered aimlessly around the room, oblivious to the figure who'd appeared in the doorway.
Temari gaped, about to consider doubling back to the other room when she saw the teenager forming a seal that would undoubtedly reduce the building to a smoking hole in the ground.
Without wasting a second, Temari drew out her fan, raised it over her shoulder, and smashed it across the back of Sasuke's head.
The Uchiha dropped like a sack of potatoes.
She quickly put out the fire with a sweep of her fan and grabbed the unconscious Uchiha under the armpits, dumping him unceremoniously in the armchair.
Itachi arrived a moment later, slowing his stride when he took in the burnt, smouldering furniture and shattered window. Then his gaze dropped to his sleeping brother and he gave Temari a questioning look.
"I talked him out of it," Temari lied.
Itachi blinked, impressed. "...thank you."
"No problem," she said, easing into a guiltless grin. "Did Gaara...?"
"He's fine," Itachi assured her, checking his brother over. "He's asleep."
Temari looked at the way Itachi gently swept the bangs out of his brother's eyes and thanked the lord that duck butt hair hid the massive bump on his head.
They gathered their siblings and made their way out of the building, Gaara's arm slung around Temari's neck and Sasuke dangling over Itachi's shoulder. When they emerged outside, the rain had relented and sunlight swept the wet ground in bright, fleeting patches.
Temari raised her eyes to the dispersing clouds and squinted.
"Now what do we do?"
Itachi paused. "There is an inn not far from here. We can let them rest until they come to."
"And what do we do?"
He looked at her, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "There is an adjoining cafe."
Gaara's eyes slowly cracked open. Dim sunlight spilled over the bed through the single window in the unfamiliar room. He sat up laboriously, blinking drowsy eyes and glancing around for his sister.
His gaze settled on the window again, eventually, and he found her sitting outside in a patio, drinking tea and talking to Uchiha Itachi. She was laughing at something he'd just said.
Brow furrowing in confusion, Gaara's gaze dropped to the bedspread and he went completely still. Uchiha Sasuke was sprawled out next to him, snoring softly into his pillow. Gaara stared down at him, bewildered.
Of course, he slowly realized. I'm dreaming.
There was no possible way his sister would go for tea with Uchiha Itachi of all people and laugh in his company. And there was absolutely no way in hell he'd just woken up next to Uchiha Sasuke.
Right, he slowly convinced himself, exactly the way Dr. Nami had taught him. This is a just a strange, surreal dream. I am going to close my eyes and wake up properly in another hour.
With that, he reclined back against the bed and turned onto his side. His eyelids drifted shut and he paid no attention to Dream Sasuke draping an arm around his middle.
He had to admit, therapy was working wonders.