GAARA GLARED AT the ceiling of the small room, imagining that his hand was floating along in the air as he traced the seams where pieces of metal fit together. His mind was blank; the only thing even resembling a thought was the strong feeling of hate that swelled within his gut and an odd dislocation from the world that seemed to cast a haze over his vision. Everything felt far from reach and out of touch. He was trapped in this little metal room, this little metal cage that he nearly couldn't bear to be cooped up in for so long.

The more he lay there, bound to his bed with thick leather restrains, the more he stewed beneath the surface. On the surface his features were slack; he was unable to even move in his heavily drugged state. The line of his mouth was curved down, eternally frowning, would only tighten into a scowl as the medicine began to wear off. His heart thundered a crescendo of war against his rib-cage as anger coursed through him, flushing his skin to a sickly pale tone. His body was paralyzed, but his mind roamed freely and his eyes darted to and fro as they consumed his environment.

Every so often as the medicine was wearing off he would jerk his arms and legs against the cruel restraints, testing to see if they'd perhaps forgotten to tie him down tight enough, just this one time. They only had forgotten once; when he was a child. They'd not forgotten to tie him up properly since. Not after that time...

Gaara forced his drugged features into a scowl, dragging out a long sigh as he did so. That in itself was a remarkable feat, considering the amount of drugs they'd pumped into his system. They'd been forced to give him just under the limit that could cause an overdose. He'd been having a bad day. He'd managed to cause multiple other people considerable pain as well, though, so the day had ended on a better note. Hurting others and hearing them scream lessened the howl of his own mind. It eased his own pain, clearing his mind a bit so he could think more freely.

Time seemed to drag on more and more slowly each day, the only break in the monotony when he could get a rise out of someone. The cool rush of adrenalin at his actions always brought him a sense of sadistic calm. Being in control brought him satisfaction like nothing else could. Feeling in control in a place like this was something hard to come by. He treasured it.

At the sound of the door creaking open, Gaara slowly turned his head to the right. A nurse had come to bring him his lunch. Gaara glared at her, the effort of his actions growing easier. The nurse, catching his small motion, was so startled that she almost the tray of food. This one surprised him, brushing her red hair out of her face with grim determination only to let loose a shaky tremble when he smirked at her, sensing the fear that radiated from her in waves.

She quickly undid his ankle cuffs, the hard leather making a slight scraping sound as she slipped the metal clips loose. Gaara closed his eyes as she undid the right manacle, relishing the feel of cool air on his cramped wrist. The manacles had been tight today, too tight. His fingers tingled as blood rushed back into his fingers and he wiggled them suggestively against the mattress.

The frightened nurse hurried to undo the other cuff, turning on heel to leave as soon as she completed her task. Gaara's long-fingered hand latched lazily around her wrist, squeezing it tightly beneath his grip. "Don't you want to play?"

A shriek escaped her lips as she tried to wrench herself free from the red-haired lunatic's bone-crushing grasp. "No! Let me go!" she snarled, slapping his across the face with her free hand. Gaara calmly gazed at her, blinking slowly. Her actions didn't entice him so much as enrage him. His grip tightened until he heard a satisfying crunch and coinciding yelp of pain. The yelp was closely followed by a panicked scream for help.

A head topped with dark brown hair popped through the doorway, the face it belonged to pulling together into a vicious scowl. "Damn it Gaara; I leave to eat dinner for ten minutes, and this is what you get into?"

"Get out!" Gaara spat at the nurse, knowing she wouldn't need to be told twice. She brushed past the man in the doorway, cradling her fractured wrist to her chest with a pained and terrified expression. The man in the doorway repressed a chuckle as he entered the room.

"You're a pain in the ass to be around when you're in that fucking shell, you know," grunted Gaara's brother. "It's like I'm talin' to myself..."

"Shut up," growled Gaara. He'd rather have his brother around to complain and whatnot than listen to his own breathing, but he wasn't about to admit to that. To reinforce the fact that he didn't like his brother talking, he'd often chuck things at him, though over the years Kankuro had become an expert at dodging Gaara's projectiles.

Normally, it would've seemed unethical to room two brothers in such a situation in the same room, but the fact of the matter was that Gaara utterly refused to let anyone move in with them. The last time it had been attempted, the poor bastard who'd been put into his room was found hog-tied with a bed sheet in the linens closet on the second-floor.

Kankuro sighed, flopping back onto his bed which was bolted to the wall opposite of Gaara's metal headboard, squished between the wall and tiny dresser. "You really can't help yourself can you?" he snickered, lacing his hands behind his head. It seemed Gaara always had the upper hand on people, something he found hilarious. Gaara liked to play mind games, only resorting to physical pain when he'd already gotten into their head or couldn't get past their barriers. Kankuro had blocked out Gaara's digs a long time ago, but his little brother found ways to get to him nonetheless.

Kankuro heard the distinct swish of Gaara's arm, lazily holding his arm up to catch whatever it was. He'd expected a pillow, as usual, but this time was different. Gaara had flung himself across the room, which Kankuro had not expected. Kankuro's dark eyes widened the thick lashes fanning out as his pupils dilated. He absolutely hated fighting his brother because there was simply no reasoning with him. Gaara fought to win, at least until he got too tired to move—and that could take a while.

Gaara's fist missed his face, slamming into the metal bars of his headboard. Kankuro grunted as he tried to throw his brother off. First curling in a ball, he yanked it back and socked Gaara in the face, the force of it causing his head to jerk back and his red hair to lift away from his features.

Gaara's icy blue eyes narrowed, sending Kankuro's smirk of triumph scampering away. Gaara easily straddled him, pinning his brother's hands beneath his knees as his fists flurried down in a silent battery upon well-defined upper torso.

"Gaara get off me, you stupid little shit! Get the fuck off!" grunted Kankuro, freeing his arms before twisting his body and flinging Gaara across the room.

The emaciated boy lurched to his feet, his lower lip swollen and bleeding. Kankuro could feel his stomach knotting with fear as he examined the look in his brother's eyes. There was that certain glaze coating them that told Kankuro he'd better get the hell out of there. Then again, though, there door was locked, wasn't it? Their door, as one of the doors containing high-risk patients, was set to be locked after a certain time, signaling that it was curfew. Gaara had, after all, killed other patients before, so he wasn't allowed out. He didn't kill them on the spot, but he hurt them badly enough that they died later.

Gaara made a dive for Kankuro when he got up, wrapping his hands around his throat. He smacked Kankuro's head against the frame a few times, pushing him close to the brink of passing out before he let go. Kankuro was gasping for breath when Gaara stomped on his chest. A pained expression crossed his features as he grunted. He quickly smoothed them out, knowing his brother fought harder when he saw that he was making progress in hurting the other person.

He steeled himself for the next few blows, grabbing Gaara's feet and yanking him down to the ground where he would pin him. Pressing a forearm to his little brother's throat, Kankuro watched as his brother's face contorted into a snarl. Gaara didn't bother holding his breath, but rather strained against his brother's arm, clawing at it. His short, sharp nails left long trails of blood in their wake. Kankuro only grunted in response.

Suddenly Kankuro froze, a pain expression riddling his features. Gaara had kneed his brother in the crotch, leaving him immobile for a moment. Gaara threw Kankuro off of himself, pulling himself to his feet before staring down at his brother with disdain.

"That's not. Fair!" gasped Kankuro, who by now, had curled into a tight ball. Gaara squatted down close to his brother, his smirk wider than ever.

"Since when had life ever been fair, brother?"

Kankuro's eyes narrowed as he glared at his brother. Gaara merely snorted in amusement. He rose up again, lifting his foot. Kankuro closed his eyes, knowing he wouldn't be conscious for a while after this. He didn't even feel it, but rather knew that it had happened because hw as along in his sea of red again. Red, red, red. He'd been seeing a lot more of that lately. Gaara was getting more and more unpredictable as his new medicine began to lose its effectiveness.

[.-_-.]

KANKURO'S HEAD HURT something terrible; he wanted nothing more than to go to sleep . The floor, where Gaara had left him lay after knocking him unconscious, was cold and hard. Sometimes, when Gaara was feeling a little guilty about leaving him on the floor, which wasn't often, he would pick his brother up and put him back on the bed. That hadn't happened in a long time.

Kankuro sometimes wondered if his brother even had a soul anymore. He'd become so heartless. That had almost always been his way, but it wasn't something Kankuro liked. He'd just gotten used to it. There was a fine line between love and hate. In regards to his brother, Kankuro wasn't sure what side of the line his brother fell on.

Exhaling silently, he lifted himself off of the floor and heaved himself back onto his bed. He wasn't go live like this anymore. It wasn't worth it; what the hell had been worth it in the first place, anyway? He'd been living this way for so long he couldn't remember ever being happy. Perhaps it was because he never had been.

He lay down to get some sleep, knowing that sleeping would get him further than pondering the failures of his life.

[.-_-.]

NARUTO'S HEAD DIPPED lower and lower into his palm as he watched TV. He jolted when suddenly a hand glanced off the back of his head.

"Go to bed and give one of us a seat!" demanded another patient, one that Naruto didn't even recognize.

"Make me," he challenged. It was a dare, one that he knew the other patients wouldn't pass up. He was actually thinking of going to bed himself anyway, but he utterly detested being told what to do.

"Fine. You asked for it, though!" A hand latched onto Naruto's hair, pulling him over the back of the couch and onto the floor. Naruto spun around, already preparing to attack. He knew it wouldn't be long before he was hauled off to his room. He needed to be quick.

His fists were flying before the other guy even knew what hit him; the man whom Naruto didn't even know tried to fight back but he was running a race he couldn't possibly win. Naruto's fists rained down on his body with such ferocity that he could only lay back and take it. The others knew better than to mess with Naruto when he was in a rage and had learned to block him out. They could never be sure, but they would swear he was manic-depressive with his insane highs and mind-boggling lows.

On some days Naruto was as happy as could be, talking and saying hello to anyone and everyone who crossed his path. Other days he was lower than low, plagued with violence outbursts and suicidal tendencies.

Naruto was frustrated with the way things went whenever he got into a fight. It was always just before he pummeled his aggressors into unconsciousness they always came and pulled him away. He was so close! Naruto struggled against the tall man holding him back, his muscled straining with the effort to break free.

"Easy now, Toto," soothed the guard, passing the needle under Naruto's skin. He was one of the few guards that was nice to Naruto and the only person in the world who could call him Toto. Naruto struggled for a few seconds longer, trying to struggle against the impending blackness that he couldn't stand. It made him feel weak and helpless, something he hated.

He sighed softly, only giving in when at last, his eyes began to grow heavy. "Rui?"

"What Tote?" Rui liked to call Naruto Toto, like the dog from Wizard of Oz, but often called him Tote for short. He had dark, tanned skin and had long ago resolved to shave his hair off, effectively preventing him from the worry that accompanied the idea of going bald.

"I'm sorry, Rui, I'm just not having a good... day..."

Naruto's head drooped after that. Knowing that he'd fallen into a drug-induced submissive state, Rui dragged Naruto back to his room, putting him to bed. Poor guy needed better medication. This vicious cycle was not working; the orderly knew that much.

[.-_-.]

SNIFF, SNIFF! HE detected the odor of something sweet. He liked the smell of it.

He crawled along on all fours, his nose pressed to the floor as he investigated for the source of the smell. It was light, fruity, and made his mouth positively water. He was going to find it! He scuffled along, scowling when he lost the track of the delectable smell.

"Kiba! Get up off the floor this instance!"

Kiba's scowl deepened, and when he looked up at the orderly, his eyes narrowed. "No!" he snarled, gnashing his teeth in anger. "Just leave me alone!"

"I'm under direct orders to make sure that you don't behave this way, Kiba! Please, just help me out," the guard pleaded. "You're gonna get me fired!"

"So?" barked Kiba, baring his teeth in a dog-like fashion. "What's 'at got to with me?"

"I got kids, na. Can't ya just walk like a person for a few minutes? Just down to lunch? I'll bring ya a bone tomorrow!" The man smiled encouragingly and Kiba sighed, finally relenting.

"Fine. But I'd have done it for a bit of kibble, ya know." Kiba said with his smile, flashing his large canines.

Kiba shook hands with the orderly before sauntering into the lunch room and glaring at the other officials. He hated them—they were the ones who demanded that he pretended to be a human when knew damned well that he was a dog.

[.-_-.]

KIBA SLOWLY ATE his mashed potatoes, the plastic spork feeling heavy in his hands. He ate slowly, eating around the edges to protect the pool of gravy. One orderly in particular, who badger for this, flung out his hand in a crude, mocking gesture relating to homosexuality. Kiba didn't see the sense in it; how could the way that someone ate their mashed potatoes reflect their orientation?

The orderly cast him the usual glare, which Kiba returned perfectly. One of the prettier nurses walked up to the orderly, whose glare instantly disappeared. His flirting face, which Kiba knew only too well because this jackass was a self-proclaimed "player," was set and his words were flowing smoothly. Kiba knew the girl was eating up his lies and promises, quicker even than the other had ever done before.

He scowled when she pouted, giving him puppy dog eyes. That was not the proper time! Kiba scooped himself up a spoonful of mashed potatoes, pausing to dip them into gravy. THWANG! That was the sound the spork made as he released his fingers from the tonged end of the utensil, the gooey mass flying through the air before landing on his nemesis' forehead. His enemy froze, a steady hand fisting around the goo. The way it pulled the good from his hair was much less smooth.

"Who threw this?" he demanded, his face uglying with rage. Kiba smiled, knowing that he'd won and the nurse would not be fucking the rude orderly tonight.

All eyes were averted and no one stepped forward; he was not well liked. It did not matter who had thrown it. Each and every one of them would have remained quiet out of respect for the brave soul who had stood up to him.

He looked around, his eyes on the side of the room that was opposite of Kiba. THWANG! Another fresh sporkful of goo was catapulted, landing with a sticky plop in his right eye. The orderly growled, sweeping the mash potatoes from his face with his hand. He flung them to the floor in rage.

Suddenly another food wad, this time the disgusting macaroni that was always lumpy and cold, found its way to his face. Just like that, food was flying everywhere with its surprised ring-leader sitting still for only a moment before launching into action, grabbing fistfuls of food off of his own plate and those around him. He flung them with all he was worth, delighting whenever he his target, whether he'd planned to hit that target or not.

After about ten minutes the food fight was broken up and they were taken back to their cells—pardon me, I mean rooms—where they were to await punishment after the starter of the food fight was determined.

Kiba knew he'd be in trouble, but what was the worst they could do? Put him into solitary?

After about ten minutes of a food fight, it was broken up. They were all taken back their cells, pardon me-rooms,where they were to wait until they could determine who started it. So it got him a few days; what was the big deal? He could handle being cooped up in a dark room for days. It was actually an approved discipline, but Danzo liked it. He said encouraged good behavior.

[.-_-.]

HIS EYES STARED blankly at his hands, his shoulders sagging with the fatigue that never left him. Some would analyze him, saying the fatigue he claimed to feel all the time was fake, a cry for attention. However, it was a true feeling.

He never felt awake anymore. His onyx eyes were often only half open, cooly sliding over the features of whatever or whoever he was studying. He had a photographic memory like that. He could remember the little details of people; the way their faces moved when they talked, the certain habits they had, or the way they acted in certain emotional situations—everything.

He was rather anti-social, despite the fact that he managed to be cordial when addressing family members. Of course, his family members were the only ones he was ever polite to. When he met new people he was outright indifferent, writing them off when they didn't meet his standards—especially if they were annoying.

Sasuke sighed, pulling himself out of his bed and dragging himself over to his window. He'd only need one more day... then he could fulfill his plan. He was going to kill his roommate.

Lee was one of the most annoying people he knew. The stupid bastard with the atrocious bowl-cut was always telling him to cheer up and be happy. It wasn't that fucking easy! Lee was obsessive compulsive and had body dysmorphic disorder. He worked out constantly, the endless flow of endorphins causing him to be over-the-top-shoot-me-right-fucking-now happy. It sickened Sasuke.

Lee was sleeping at the moment. Sasuke had already figured everything out. He'd been buying sleeping pills from his neighbor, an insomniac. He'd been buying them in small amounts, one here, and one there. Sasuke planned to empty the little pills into Lee's morning oatmeal.

Sasuke settled into bed again, unable to sleep with his excitement. Tomorrow would be the day. Then he'd be rid of the last thing from this place that bothered him. Then he'd be perfectly happy with his life again.

[.-_-.]

"WHAT THE HELL do you think you're doing," a lazy voice whispered into his ear.

Sasuke spun around guiltily, the capsule still in his hand. Shikamaru rose a tired brow, the smirk on his face widening substantially. Upon seeing who it was, Sasuke shrugged. "I'm killing Lee." Shikamaru snorted in delight, Sasuke's honest not surprising him at all.

Shikamaru plopped down next to his raven-haired friend at the small circular table. "Why? He's a nice guy." Before Sasuke could stop him, Shikamaru's hand darted out and snagged a few of Sasuke's pills.

Sasuke scoffed loudly, rolling his eyes. "That's the point. He's unbearable."

"So are you, you depressed old goat," snaped an old man from across the table. Shikamaru burst into a fit of laughter. Sasuke merely raised a surprised brow.

"Old goat? That's new..." Sasuke straightened, sweeping the capsules off of the table and into his own cereal that he wasn't going to eat. "Lee," he called out, boredom oozing from the single syllable.

"Sasuke? You need something?" Lee asked brightly, flashing the morbid boy a dazzling smile.

"Yeah, eat your breakfast." Sasuke sighed, holding out the bowl. "You'd better eat it. I took the time to get it and I'll be damned if you turn down my peace offering."

Lee took a hesitant bite of the oatmeal. Shikamaru smirked, asking "Is it good?"

"Yes! Very!" smiled Lee, his bushing brows tilting up in agreement.

"All right, Sasuke, I'm gonna want some of that oatmeal tomorrow," laughed Shikamaru, knowing that Sasuke understood him. Sasuke would have to pay him pills in exchange for silence.

Lee was halfway through his oatmeal when he began to slow down, his face lax after five minutes of practically inhaling sleeping pills.

"Are you okay, Lee?" His tone was mocking, but Lee wouldn't have caught it, drugged or not.

"I—yeah, I'm just tired," Lee said with a shrug.

"How much did you give him?" hissed Shikamaru. "They don't work this fast!"

"Enough to take down a horse. Or perhaps a small elephant... I gave him sedatives and sleeping pills," whispered Sasuke, his smirk growing. "I had to be sure."

"Sasuke, for future reference, I'm never eating anything you make," drawled Shikamaru, covering his bemused smile with a lazy hand.

"Sasuke?" groaned Lee, doubling over.

"Hmm?"

"I don't feel so good... what the heck did you put in my oatmeal?"

"Oh, just regular old oatmeal, sugar, cinnamon, sleeping pills, syrup—"

"Sleeping pills?!" shrieked Lee, surprising Sasuke. This was the first time he'd ever seen Lee get mad. "Sasuke Uchiha is trying to kill me! He spiked my breakfast! Help me!"

All of the orderly in the room froze, unsure of what to think. Lee was, after all, overly exuberant, but Sasuke did hate his guts. Erring on the side of caution, two orderlies escorted Lee to the infirmary. He passed out before they even managed to leave the room. Sasuke's face split into a smile and he burst out laughing. Shikamaru scooted away from him, having never seen him laugh, let alone have a fit like this.

The tapes from the cafeteria would later be viewed, seeing Shikamaru as an accomplice. He did nothing to prevent the attack, rather egging Sasuke on instead. This evident sent him off to the South Wing as well. Shikamaru was crushed, having lost his supplier in the move. He was going to have to hunt for a new one now. Being a pill-popper was harder than one might think.

Author's Note- So, this is just the beginning. :D But, where is Sakura, you ask? Well she, and a few others, will be along soon after. :D So, reviews are amazing, and I hope you enjoy!

Reviews please ! I need input! 1...2...3... CLICK! :)

Lauren/Mellokai