I own nothing.

This will contain five short parts.

Reviews much appreciated.

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"The night I lost you, someone pointed me toward the five stages of grief. Go that way, they said, it's easy, like learning to climb stairs after the amputation. And so I climbed." - 'The Five Stages of Grief' by Linda Pastan

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Lee likes three eggs for breakfast cooked sunny-side up, the yolk just barely cooked to the point where the gooey yellow will run off the egg to the side of the plate if a fork is poked in. Remembering he likes to scoop this up with toast, Gaara takes a break from making sure breakfast is cooked just right and pops a piece of whole wheat bread in the toaster – the more grains the better, Lee always says, accompanied by some speech about vitamins enhancing his youthful strength which Gaara usually tunes out.

Cooked to perfection, and adding to the corner of the plate two strawberries from a carton that threatens to expire in two days, Gaara carefully sets the plate down on the other side of the table. He takes a seat and views the small mess he's made in the kitchenette. He decides he'll clean it up later, before he goes to work. Swallowing a spoonful of yoghurt, he glances toward the chair across from him.

"You should eat, Lee. You'll need your strength. Aren't you teaching that advanced jiu-jitsu class today?"

He frowns when Lee doesn't answer and lifts the cup of juice up to his lips. "I'm going to be home late today. Temari wants to have dinner with me."

Silence.

After he finishes his meal, he throws away all three sunny-side up eggs, the toast, and the strawberries, and places the tableware in the dishwasher. He hears Lee's favourite song being hummed, but after whipping around at the table, realises the sound had been coming from his own mouth.

x

The dinner with Temari is short and awkward.

"He forgot that it was his turn to shop for groceries this week," Gaara tells her over an untouched steak and salad, "I made the trip instead, but it's fine. I had to visit the bank anyway. How's Shikamaru?"

Temari gives him a pitying, sympathetic look and doesn't answer. He doesn't pull away when her hand rests over his.

x

Lee doesn't say anything when Gaara, after returning home, asks if he wants to watch some television before bed, so he decides to retire early.

"Good night," he murmurs, curled in bed after the light has been switched off. "I love you." The large green sweatshirt he's clutching is unresponsive. Gaara still inhales the familiar scent deeply until he drifts into slumber.

Nights, he dreams. His body hurtles hurtles through the sky, the image grainy and dark like an old silent film, plummeting toward the ground at a thousand miles an hour. Terror seizes his heart as he grapples frantically at the air for a hold he never finds. The pastures below zoom closer and closer, and every night his body jerks awake just before the impact, shaking and soaked in cold sweat.