Hey loyal followers and new readers!

Sorry to those who have been waiting for this new chapter for so long, I haven't been writing for a long time but thanks to quarantine I've been working on something new and returning to old passion projects, like this one

This chapter calls for a HEAVY TRIGGER WARNING. It is descriptive and it is rough at points. I hope you like where the story is going though! Thanks for reading!

Rose

Whispers in the Dark

Chapter XI

I pick at my dinner as I sit slumped at the table. I'm not that hungry, and I really don't care for my mom's soup-soaked enchiladas, but I don't want to hurt her feelings. Gaara's been gone since yesterday, and the weird sensation of looking over my shoulder for someone who isn't there is getting to me, not that I can use that as an excuse for my lack of appetite.

My mom sits at the head of the table eating delicately, little Erimaki slouches in her highchair, kicking her chubby legs, sauce in her green hair, and Ino sits across from me, scarfing down her food with all the vigor that I lack. Scraping at her plate for the last of the food and finding none, my sister scoots back her chair and begins to rise for seconds.

"Ino, could you wait a moment? I have something to talk to you girls about." My mom says, smiling at us nervously as she folds her hands in front of her, her teeth worrying her lower lip. My eyes catch on her tugging teeth with concern; she only does that when she's really stressed out.

Reaching out my hand and placing it over hers I squeeze reassuringly. "Is everything alright Mom?"

"Well," she chuckles nervously. "Yes, but I don't think you're going to like the news I have to share with you and," her brows furrow sternly. "You are not to give me a hard time about it; you girls need to understand that it's my decision and it's for the best."

Wariness seeping into my muscles I pull my hand away. Leaning back, I gaze at her silently, apprehension and suspicion churning in my empty gut and turning it sour.

Ino, unaware of the brewing tension between us, bursts out. "Okay so, would you like, cut the dramatics already Mom? What's the 'big scary news'?"

My mom draws in a deep breath, clenching her fingers tighter around themselves. "Well, your dad and I have been…talking."

I stare at her in horror at her confirmation of my worst fears, her words ringing in my ears, a chorus of brutal clanging bells. I breath out a desperate, whispered, no, but she doesn't hear me, continuing on. "Well, you know your father has his issues, but he's been working on them in counseling."

Ino snorts in disbelief. "Yeah and he got surgery to make him a super model too."

Mom glares at Ino, puffing up in indignation. "Ino Haruno don't be so quick to judge your father. He's a troubled man who worked hard for this family for many years and served honorably in the war."

"Yeah, and then he came home and showed his family everything that war taught him!" Ino yells, jumping to her feet. "What are you even doing talking to that jackass? Why won't you just divorce him already!"

Slamming her hands on the table, my normally soft-spoken mother surges to her feet to face off with my sister as Erimaki begins to whine in distress in the background. "I'm not divorcing him because we are getting back together! He is moving back home and you two will be polite and helpful and you will deal with it because it is my decision! If he's willing to work on himself then I think he deserves a chance, that our family deserves a chance!"

Shocked into silence, Ino and I stare at my mom, our expressions an unequal mixture of disgust and terror. I feel tears begin to strangle my throat as I start to shake, the sounds of my mother soothing a crying Erimaki muffled in my ears.

"No," I mumble from my seat, fingers clenched tightly around the lip of the table. "Mom, please, you know he acts nice for a while, but something always happens eventually. He can't keep it together forever." Watching her face close off at my words I try once more, my voice wavering. "Mommy, please, he's dangerous. Don't do this to us again."

Looking away from me my mom pulls in another deep breath, gritting her teeth as she draws my little sister tight in her arms. "I know it's a lot to ask Sakura, Ino, I know, I do. But please, try. For me."

Glancing back at both of us for another wordless second, my mom turns and leaves the room, the sound of her footsteps descending the stairs and Erimaki's whimpers echoes up the stairwell until I hear the click of her bedroom door closing.

Ino whirls around towards me, her face beet red with rage and indignation. Thrusting her hands into her hair she pulls on it dramatically and issues a stifled scream, sounding something like a muffled tea kettle.

"She can't do this to us!" Ino whisper yells, leaning closer to me. "We will not, cannot, live through that again." Spinning around again she stomps down and back up the length of the kitchen.

Trembling like a leaf, I realize that at some point I stopped breathing. With a gasp I start gulping in air to try to stave off the blackness at the edges of my vision, only to find myself choking on the oxygen I am so desperate for as I start hyperventilating.

Coughing and heaving, I lean forwards, bracing my hands on my legs with arms that feel too heavy.

"Hey, hey…" Ino soothes, appearing at my side, stroking her hands down my back and smoothing my hair away from my suddenly sweat sticky face. "Don't panic sweetie. We are going to get through this together just like we always do."

A vision of myself flying through the air flashes behind my eyes and I flinch at the imaginary attack, a strangled sob bubbling out my mouth.

Ino cradles my head against her belly as she starts to rock me, murmuring encouragement. "Just breathe sweetie, just, um, look at the tablecloth and count the colors like your therapist taught you, yeah? Breathe, and count, you got this baby. In one, two, three four, release one, two, three, four…"

I listen to her words and begin to breathe with her count as tears trickle down my cheeks. What am I going to do? I continue to panic internally as I try in vain to slow my breathing. Just hearing about him coming home and I'm having a panic attack. How am I going to handle him actually being here?

"Honey, you gotta stop thinking about it for a minute. Try to focus on something nice, something that makes you feel good. Can you do that for me? Come on let's sit you up, maybe you'll be able to breathe a little bit better."

Hysterical laughter bursts out of me at the suggestion but, I sit up for her and lean back in my chair. Closing my eyes as I hiccup from the crying, I swipe my sleeves at my face in a doomed attempt to dry my cheeks.

Something nice, I think. Something nice, something that makes me feel good… A rusty red color, warm and sprinkled with burnished copper, rises up in my mind's eye. The color makes me feel safe and I imagine I am painting the hue across the walls of my mind.

Breath slowing, I reach over to the table to snag my crumpled napkin and begin to blot furiously at my face.

"You feeling a little bit better?" My sister asks softly beside me.

Glancing over at her kneeling form, feeling the warmth of her hand on my back, I sigh shakily, exhausted.

"Yeah…yeah…I'm okay." I say, twisting up the napkin in my fist until I find my hands stilled by Ino's hand resting over mine.

"You sure? I'm going over to a friend's house for the night. You could come if you want, have a little 'girl time' if ya know what I'm sayin.'" She invites, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

I smile at her, weakly, but it's a smile. "No, thanks. I'm just really tired now. I think I'm gonna head to bed but, are you okay?"

Ino grins at me cheekily, cocking her head to the side. "Oh, you know me. My anger and running away to my boy toys always gets me through times like these. I'm fine honey, just pissed off right now and I truly, urgently, need to get wasted. You sure you don't want to come to the girl party? There's jello shots and wine…"

I rub the last of the moisture from my eyes and rise to my feet. Faking a yawn, I stretch my arms overhead. "No, thank you, but seriously I'm going to bed, like, now."

"Alright…" Ino sighs, rising to her feet as well and following me down the hall to our bedrooms, "But if you need anything tonight just call okay? You know I'll always pick up."

"Thanks sweetie." I say, reaching across the space between us and pulling her into a hug. "You have a fun time tonight okay?"

"Oh, you know it! We may invite some guys over to join us…" Ino snickered mischievously. Drawing back from the hug but still grasping my arms she holds my eyes with hers. "If at any point you want to come over, I will find someone to come and get you, alright?"

Laughing awkwardly, I squeeze her arms and felt her squeeze back before we release our grips. "Seriously, Ino, I'll be okay. Now go put on whatever fancy outfit you're going to wear to your 'girls and sort of also boys night'".

"Alright! Alright, I'm going. Have a good sleep! I love you!"

"Love you too!" I throw back over my shoulder as I enter the shadowy sanctuary of my room.

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What felt like a sanctuary before now feels more like a dark pit. Twisting and turning beneath my covers, my thoughts are frantic, and I've been trying to wrestle them into submission, unsuccessfully, for hours. I'm almost old enough to leave home now, but I can't leave my sisters, even my mom. I resent her role in this and so, sometimes, I resent her, but battering against that resentment is the knowledge that has been passed down to me in therapy about how and why my mom is how she is. It doesn't really help me as my anger and fear swells in my chest and I find myself sitting up and punching my pillow. Thump thump thump. Thump thump thump. I hit until tears are leaking out of my eyes and I'm sobbing again.

Nose running, eyes streaming, I cry into my pillow to muffle the sounds. I'm so scared. What am I going to do? I know something bad is going to happen if he comes back and there's nothing I can do to stop it from happening. I can't handle this. This is too much.

Ghostly echoes of past fights ring in my ears, the sound of my father shouting blocking out all coherent thought. The words, in a voice straining from the volume of his bellow in my memory, screams failure, liar, lazy, manipulative, worthless…until it all comes crashing down in my mind and I am clutching at my head.

I scream into my pillow, the fabric and feather filling not quite enough to stifle the sound. Gasping, my hands twist into my hair at its roots and pull painfully. The ache in my scalp isn't enough to distract me from the turmoil inside and I release my hair to start scratching at my arms, tears pouring down my face.

"I can't do this. I can't live through this again, but I can't stop him from coming back." I sob as my nails run raggedly over my skin, drawing raised red lines on pale flesh. "I can't do anything, I can't stop anything, I'm trapped…."

My swirling brain tries to focus on the pain on my arms, the sharp feeling bringing a passing moment of relief, but it's still not enough.

Chest heaving, I pull the comforter away from my body and swing my legs over the side of the bed. Closing my eyes in resignation, I hear the soft voice of my therapist trying to persuade me against my next choice. I will have to apologize to her later, right now I can't stand the tidal wave of thoughts and feelings that are ripping through me.

Standing, I cross the small space of my room to my dresser and grab a small, decorative leather chest from the trinkets strewn across the surface and a few candles as well. Still shaking, I set it down next to my full length mirror, placing the candles on either side. With a lighter from the dresser I light them both before I begin to strip my clothes off my body. Throwing them in a careless pile in the corner, I grab my silk, coral robe from the closet and drape it around myself, leaving it open.

Nearly naked, I kneel in front of the mirror and take in the sight of my soft, pale, scarred flesh in the flickering candle light. Along the very bottom of my ribs runs fat, crooked red scars, around my belly button, thin scarlet lines arch out like the beams of the sun, and below my the bulge of my belly is a row of short, wide scars, the healed skin spread out wide and smooth from the wounds being reopened so many times. My petal pink hair, the same color as my mom's, drapes over my exposed breasts, hiding them from my scrutiny.

I reach down to unclasp the latch on the box with trembling hands, opening it to reveal a row of razors wrapped in brown paper. Selecting one, I take it out and rip open the wrapping, exposing the sharp, glinting edge.

Heart pounding, lost in desperation, I grab an unscarred section of my stomach in one hand, pinching the flesh between my fingers to draw the skin taunt. The other hand brings the razor to my skin, the touch feather lite for a moment, before I push the fine edge against myself and slice downward in one deliberate motion.

The biting pain is sharp and I let out a little gasp. A thin red line now stands out on my skin.

I feel the adrenaline I had been waiting for crash through me like a wave, bringing relief and the eerie calm that I been so desperate for. Feeling my head begin to clear into the cold, emotionless void I had been seeking, I fit the razor against the line I had made and slice again. And then again, and again, widening the injury and cutting deeper into my flesh with each stroke.

Blood runs down my torso in rivulets until it seeps into the upper reaches of the darker pink curls that hide my most feminine areas. Finally, it feels like I've done enough for now and I stop my frantic cutting, panting slightly but flushed with the feeling of my own power over what I had been so powerless against only moments before.

Gazing at myself in the mirror, the candlelight dancing on the trails of liquid running down me, I take my two pointer fingers and run them through the streams of blood. Raising my hands to my face I paint the blood I've collected over the swell of my cheeks and down to my jaw with both fingers. Dipping them back into the blood I draw another line down the middle of my face to the tip of my nose, the line continuing down my chin. I swipe my fingers over my lips, painting them with what's left. Dots go under my eyes next, until the face looking back at me isn't the helpless, tear streaked one of before and it is, instead, a fearsome, haunted, warrior woman that looks back at me in the candlelight.

It's my secret face; the one I wear when the pain is too much to fight back against and I need to feel my own power. It's my shameful face; the face that no one has ever seen because, how would they not be horrified at what I have done to myself?

*~'~*~,~*~)~*~,~*~'~*

I lay naked on the hard ground under the moonlight, exhaustion and pain radiating from every fiber of my being after my transformation back into my human body. The night and day I had spent as the beast had been a nightmare. I can remember each detail with perfect clarity, and every moment my human self had battled against the beast's nature that called for him to return to our mate. Even now, returned to my human form, I can still feel the bone deep yearning.

Weariness dragging at my muscles I sit up and look around. I'm not too far from where I had first transformed and, I glance down at myself, hopefully some of my clothes had survived the transformation. Given her emphasis on privacy when bathing, I don't think Sakura would appreciate me returning nude.

Standing with a groan, I stretch out my arms above me, feeling my sore muscles respond with appreciation. Taking off at a slow jog I scan the mountainside for the remains of my clothing, and I'm thankful that my eyes see better than most humans in the dark.

I see a flash of maroon to my left and I veer towards it, my slow jog turning into a faster trot. The pull to return to Sakura is still there, the primal feelings of the past day lingering within me, and, now that I am human again, I am desperate to answer it, as fast as I can.

I come upon what's left of my clothes and groan in frustration. Doubling in size while still being clothed had caused most of my garments to rip into shreds. Crouching down, I rummage through the scraps until I find a piece of shirt and sleeve that is still attached to one another. Awkwardly, I manage to fashion the larger scrap into a loincloth, with the sleeve tied around my torso and the bit of shirt covering my groin. It isn't an ideal solution, but it is all I have to work with.

I give the end of the sleeve a tug to make sure it's secure before I take off running down the mountain. Bounding over rocks and spring boarding off of fallen logs I feel my energy returning as I continue down the treacherous terrain. I can already see the lights of the city in the distance and my heart soars.

I'm coming Sakura.

*~'~*~,~*~)~*~,~*~'~*

I trot down the main road towards Sakura's house. The slender sliver of moon is high in the sky now, too small to produce any light, but reassuring in itself that it is there, and it is no longer a moonless night of sacrifice. The singing of late summer crickets fills the air, interrupted periodically by the fire and metal machines that pass by as they speed along the road.

I stop suddenly, sniffing furiously for the scent that had just teased my nose. The hint of a smell was familiar, and yet it was not; it was too fresh. What was it? I pick up my pace again, an urgent feeling burning in my gut. The scent draws me closer and I feel myself longing for it; but there is also an underlying wrongness that I cannot place.

Turning onto Sakura's street the aroma grows stronger as I speed towards her house. I know what the smell is now, it fills me simultaneously with a primal, aching desperation and a pit of sinking dread; it is the smell of Sakura's blood, fresh from her body. What has happened to my mate while I haven't been here to protect her?!

Roaring, I sprint towards her house and leap into the tree outside her window. Peering in through the curtains I see my mate kneeling before a mirror with her back towards me, the shape of her body outlined in the darkness by wavering fire light. She looks peaceful, a silk robe hangs across her shoulders, but the smell of her blood burning my nose tells me that my eyes are deceiving me.

A primordial wildness is rearing up within my mind at the nearness of the scent of her blood, blurring my thoughts and narrowing my vision. My mate is bleeding, my mate is injured, I must tend to her at once!

I take off running down the tree branch without a thought, before launching myself out of the foliage, passing through the window of Sakura's room to land on her bed with a thump.

Sakura squeaks on the floor in surprise at the sound of my entrance.

"Gaara!" I hear her gasp as I struggle to untangle myself from the bedclothes. "Um, uh, could you excuse me for a minute? I, uh, have to use the bathroom." I hear the sound of her blowing out the candles and the room falls into darkness.

Snarling, the inner beast in full control, I leap up from the bed and rush across the room to cut off her fleeing form, my figure looming in the darkness above her. My hands snake out and snag Sakura's arms, pulling her in towards my body. Her frame stiffens in my hold as I press her tightly against my bare chest and I register a dampness on the skin of her torso against mine.

Pulling back, sniffing, hunting for the source of the blood, I find it first on her startled face staring up at me, emerald eyes wide and her whole body trembling as I take in the sight of her blood painted expression. Still wet where the liquid is thickest, the edges of the lines and dots she has covered herself with are beginning to dry, the fringes flaking away. Releasing one arm, I reach out to run the tip of my finger through the slickness of the blood covering her plush lips, tracing the outline of her mouth, the monster inside me mesmerized.

"Gaara," she mumbles past my finger, "This isn't what it looks like…"

Listening to her, the human part of my mind tries to surface to remind me that I haven't found the source of the blood. A canine whine escapes me and I pull her warm body closer towards me as I start to sniff, first her hair, then her face and then lower, traveling down her neck and to the top of her chest, which, I realize for the first time with a distracting surge of heat, is entirely exposed to me through the open robe. Glancing down further, my eyes land on the rivulets of drying blood twisting down her stomach.

Scooping her up in one swift motion, I carry her bridal style towards the bed. Shoving the blankets and pillows to the floor, I settle my mate on the mattress, the faint light from the window illuminating her beautiful, blood streaked form.

Sakura immediately tries to pull the sides of her robe closed over her naked frame, but I quickly lean forwards and grasp her by the wrists, restraining her from hiding anything from me as I lean down further to inspect her belly.

"Gaara, what are you doing?" Sakura asks, distress lacing her shaking voice. "You're scaring me."

I whine again at the words and release my tight grip on her hands but don't leave my spot by her stomach. She tries to sit up and rewrap the robe again and I growl, pushing her gently but firmly back onto the bed with my palm against her sternum.

She doesn't fight the pressure and the beast within me grumbles in appreciation of her submission. Glancing back towards the curve of her belly I find a gaping wound, shorter than my pinky, but spread wide, and still oozing blood sluggishly. Bringing myself closer, one hand sliding between my mates' breasts to hold her still, I lap at the wound with my tongue.

Sakura twists underneath me, her voice rising frantically. "Gaara, whatever you think you're doing you need to stop it! Right now! Gaara I mean it I-"

I cut my frustrating mate's tirade off with a snarl, before continuing to lick the wound and the surrounding area. My mate does not understand that she needs to let me take care of her, but she stills at my sound of aggravation so I continue my treatment, following the trail of blood all the way down the top of her dark pink curls, licking as I go. The taste of her blood in my mouth is heavenly, salty and sweet, the copper liquid slides down my throat like honey wine.

I discover that the blood continues down into the hair covering her mound and begin to lick at the curls when my mate gives a sudden, strangled shriek and starts to fight against me, much harder than before.

"Gaara stop, stop! Stop right now or I'll never talk to you again! I'll hate you Gaara, I will!"

The sound of panic in my mates' words touches something inside me and I freeze, letting out a soft whimper. Drawing back from her body, I look up at her face in the faint starlight and see her cheeks flushed with emotion under the war paint, and her hands cupped around her breasts, hiding them from me.

Released from my hold, Sakura sits up and quickly bundles her robe tightly around herself, bringing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, finally burying her head in her arms. She breathes in deeply as I hold myself back from her with effort, muscles straining in a desire to wrap myself around my mate, to be closer, to press my bare flesh against hers. My human mind battles for control from my inner beast, barely winning for the moment as I try to give her the space she needs.

Minutes pass, until, in the end, Sakura raises her head to look at me, eyes wary.

"What happened while you were gone Gaara?" Sakura asked, voice hesitant. "Why aren't you talking and why are you acting so…different?"

I search my mind for the words to express myself, the sweet sound of her voice bringing my human awareness closer to the forefront.

"You…are injured… my m-…Sakura." I growl out slowly.

Sakura blushes in shame and hides her face again. "I'll be fine." I heard her say, the sound of tears in her voice. "I'm sorry if I worried you…"

Concern swelling in my chest like a balloon, I ease myself onto the bed and sit down tentatively beside her. Reaching out my hand slowly, I bring it to rest on the top of her head and give it a soft stroke.

"Sakura…Why…are you hurt? Someone…hurt you?" My voice rumbles in threat at the end.

Sakura shakes her head, the back of her hair brushing against my hand with the movement. "No…" she mumbles in a tiny voice. "It wasn't someone else…"

Confused, I lift my free hand from the bed and raise it to her face. Grasping the edge of her jaw, I tilt her face up towards mine until I find her reluctant gaze with my own. Stroking her cheek with my fingers I look into her turbulent eyes and find a deep, cavernous fear and sadness within them.

"Who…hurt you?" I ask, tenderness in my gravel low voice.

As I watch tears swell in Sakura's eyes and she tries to turn her head away in shame. Wrapping one arm around her shoulders I tighten my hold on her jaw and hold her face in place even as she averts her eyes from mine. "Tell me." I say firmly. "I will not… let you be hurt again."

A tear slips from Sakura's eye and trails down her cheek. "You can't fix this Gaara…" She chokes out. "You can't protect me from what's coming…or from myself." A slightly hysterical giggle burbles out of her. "You're not even real, remember? But how did you…" A confused crease furrows her brows and she pauses, wiping at her eyes, a thoughtful look on her face.

I watch the thoughts twist and change her expression, content to hold her like this of as long as she needs to think. Relinquishing my hold on her face, I wrap my other arm around her shoulders and pull her tight against myself gratefully, a pleased rumble starting in my chest. The thick smell of her blood is fainter now that I have tended to her wounds, though the scent still fills the room like a pleasant, fading perfume. I can hear her heart beat still pounding under her breast as I wait, feel the warmth of her skin through the thin silken robe. My inner beast begins to settle with the closeness.

"Gaara…" Sakura says slowly. "Just saying this out loud I feel like I might be crazy, or crazier at least, but…how did you pick me up if you're…if you're in my imagination? I felt that, I never felt any of the other hallucinations before…"

Pulling back in my hold, she tilts her head up to look at me, pink hair rumpled, strands hanging in front of her grass green eyes, staring wide with disbelief. "Gaara… are you actually real?"

Pleasure courses through me at her words; she believes, even if just a little!

A chuckle rumbles through my chest and I smile down at her stricken expression. "Sakura…thank you. I have been waiting to hear you say that... Now...please...tell me who has hurt you so I can protect you."

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R&R if you so please! It makes me sqee with happiness.