So this is currently a work in progress. I am uploading a preview more or less to gage what the interest is as well as to motivate myself to keep up with this particular piece of work. The premise of this story is Sasuke's return to Konoha and the relationship that develops between him and his former teammates. This story already has two endings and will be presented with both. This is about half of what I currently have. Please Read and Review; I would love to have feedback on what you as a reader think of this story. Thank you. (Also, not dead, still very much alive, just took a weird three or so year hiatus).

I wouldn't say I believe in anything that breaches the borders of reality; but really, given my current situation, there's got to be something out there. I can't quite say what that would be; fate, Kami, coincidence? But whatever it is, it's cruel. It's savagely, unmercifully, painstakingly cruel. Am I missing any words? I don't think there's any other way to describe it.

Placing a hand on the dark trunk of the towering tree, I try to catch my breath. I can feel the uneven bark beneath the gloves of my ANBU uniform as my palm slides down its length. My knees feel weak like I might lose my footing at any second. Suddenly the birds twittering and chirruping the bliss of fresh Spring dissolves in the cacophony of my heartbeat. I try taking a couple deep breaths, aligning my energy, but I can't keep the anxiety, the confusion, the sadness from seeping in. Maybe it's just always been there, like I never got rid of it, or it's just exacerbated by this event.

Do I leave? Just pretend this never happened and leave?

I can't do that, it's treason. He's wanted. Konoha still has signs posted warning to report any sightings of him.

I peak my head around the tree, peering through the slits of my mask.

Half his body is submerged in the clear lake. His mass of black hair is all I see as his head is bent, his bandaged hands unravelling the poorly structured tourniquet covering his chest and abdomen. His biceps flex as he struggles, ripping and tearing at the blood soaked gauze, discarding the pieces wherever. I suck in a sharp breath as the last of the wrapping falls. A large gash that's clearly infected, even from where I watch, creates a path across his torso, shoulder to hip. The edges of his wound fester with pus and blood; it's so contaminated that I find it hard to calculate the age of the lesion.

Why hasn't he treated it? Sasuke isn't so stubborn that he would let something like that go unattended.

Has he been poisoned?

He begins unwrapping his hands, which I see are red with irritation and cuts, before dousing them in the water. Sasuke lifts his hands up, cupping a handful of liquid. He raises his head to the sun, releasing the lake in his hands, letting the water wash his face of the blood, sweat, and dirt. Then, he dips below the surface and I wait with bated breath.

What do I do?

What would Naruto do?

"It's been a long time, Teme."

"Dobe, you of all people?"

"Don't act like you're not happy to see me," Naruto would then grin as if nothing had ever occurred, and cry because something had. "C'mon, I'm taking you back to Konoha."

But then, what would Sasuke do?

Surely he wouldn't just hop on Naruto's back and turn himself in, right?

Sasuke resurfaces, taking a large gulp of air in the process, wiping his mangled hands down his face to clear away some of the water. He pauses, his right index finger and thumb resting around the curve of his chin mid-wipe, and his eyes turn on me.

Blacker than any starless night, richer than any piece of chocolate, and the deepest abyss known to humanity.

I don't try to hide myself anymore, dropping to a lower branch before swinging to the forest floor.

"That's funny," he almost chuckles, smiling bitterly.

"Well I'm glad you find it amusing," I fire off before I'm able to catch myself.

"I don't know if it's so much a traditional humor as it is sick irony," I take note how much huskier, darker his tone of voice is. His words suggest a lifted weight, his voice suggests an added burden. "Ironic because I picked the least likely border between villages that a Konoha Nin would cross, yet here you are."

"You've been away too long, then," far too long, "Konoha and Sumer are broaching their third year of peaceful interrelations."

Almost unaware, I reach down to caress the scroll attached to my hip, making sure it's still there; that was my mission, not to play catch-up with a wanted Nin.

"Is that so?"

I don't validate his question with a response. I don't know what he's playing at; I don't know if I want to find out. Though, he does look to be in too ill of a condition to have any sort of plan formulated. I watch as Sasuke winces, sucking air in between his teeth in a painful hiss, pulling himself out of the water to rest against a stone jutting out onto land. His head rolls back, eyes closed, like he's basking in the sun.

I trace the gash over and over with my eyes, even removing my ANBU mask for a better look. He's going to die. The force of such a fact upon realization hits me from some place far, deep down in my subconscious, my very being, that it's such a shock as it bubbles over the surface. Something I haven't felt in years. Ten whole years.

Then, as I feel the stinging trail of a tear roll down my cheek, I recognize it. Suddenly, I'm a little girl again, begging him not to leave; wanting to give everything just to make him stay. Frantically, I swipe at the tear and the beginnings of new ones forming on my lower lid.

That attitude didn't work then, and it's certainly not going to now. Not that I would want it to, I remind myself.

"You should get yourself to a medic," I say replacing my mask, pretending it's my version of Sasuke's stoic expression. "You'll die without one."

I resolve myself in that moment, however selfish it may be, to leave him here to fend for himself. Konoha is better without him. Kakashi and Naruto are better without him. I am better without him.

He has no context in our lives anymore.

But I regret it as soon as I think it.

None of us ever had any context, we just were.

We were Team 7.

"Have you got any experience?"

I freeze. I'm only the leading medic at the hospital, second to Tsunade of course.

"Why would I help you?" I try to sound cold, unflinching like he did all those nights ago.

"Sakura," even all these years later it's like hearing music for the first time; the way my name rolls off his tongue hitting every syllable like chords in a symphony, "This isn't about you or me or Naruto, or Konoha for that matter. I'm injured. I need your help."

That was a first. Had he left his pride along with his conscience by every man, woman, and child he'd ever killed?

I grappled with myself. I swore to protect and nurse anyone who needed my assistance, on the grounds of anonymity. No questions asked. It wasn't my department to catch or kill criminals. Not anymore.

Sasuke's eyes were boring into mine, pleading what his lips could not.

Cursing as I exhaled, I pulled off my gloves and mask, piling them on the grass by my tree trunk. I marched over to Sasuke and kneeled beside him.

"I need you to sit up, not slouch," I refused to help him, not wanting to touch him any longer than necessary. I chewed my lip and watched him struggle to pull himself out of his slump. "A-And if I do this, you have to come back to Konoha with me."

I know, without having processed the statement before hand, that I am doing the right thing. Things happen for a reason, don't they?

Maybe. Regardless, I know that if I let him go for a second time, I'll regret it the rest of my life.

"I may as well just sit here and rot then."

I give him a hard stare, deliberating his options, but I really have no idea what would happen if he returned. We've never actually apprehended a wanted Nin of his magnitude. How do things like this work? Would they just kill him?

No, Naruto wouldn't let that happen. He's next in line to be Hokage, they have to take his opinion into account. And Kakashi, he must have some say in it. Surely they wouldn't just let him roam around though.

"Sasuke," the name sounds so foreign on my tongue, "I can't promise you freedom; in fact, I can't promise you anything. But I know for sure that if I don't patch you up and take you to the hospital, you are going to die."

I see the emptiness in his eyes and I'm shocked to see him deliberating the latter of his options. He is unafraid. I don't know what he did, what he accomplished, if anything, but he is ready.

"Okay," his face hardens, "I'll go."

Almost.

I don't realize until the relief hits that I'd been anticipating a far greater struggle. But, Sasuke knows his condition. Even with his years of practice and my years of celibacy in the field, he wouldn't be able to take me on.

He closes his eyes, almost in defeat.

I rub my hands together and place them at either end of the wound. It's a risky procedure and as I watch the wound begin to close, I almost question myself. If I don't get him to the hospital soon, the pus and poison, the infection, could spread to the rest of his body, to his internal organs, killing him. He needs surgery, and fast.

I watch as the last portion of skin closes and become firm in my belief once more that I've done the right thing. The wound could have gotten more infected if I hadn't. He could have bled to death. At least I stopped that.

"Alright," I go to reapply my armor then return to Sasuke, kneeling once more, "Climb on."

I expect a snarky comment, but he complies, fastening himself as best he can. He's heavy, but I wouldn't be a kunoichi if I couldn't carry a teammate; so we take off.

When I approach the gates, the guards are immediately at attention and rush to relieve me of my burden. Their only admission of his identity as they turn him round to properly distribute his weight is a stunned silence.

"He needs urgent medical attention. I'm taking him to the hospital," I state firmly, removing my mask and armor to make sure they are aware of who I am, knowing full well what their priorities are. "This is by order of the Hokage."

I will come under fire for that later, I know.

Sasuke's eyes flutter as his limps go slack and I can tell he's losing consciousness.

But, I need to get him to the hospital now.

"Now!" I shout and they motion over a couple more guards to keep watch before breaking into a run with me towards the city center. We reach the hospital and I swipe my card to get in. I clear a path down the hallway to the ER, throwing the doors open and readying the room. After laying out new tools, I turn ready to receive the patient.

They've disappeared.

"What the fuck?" I curse and race out of the room coming to a fork in the hospital wing. They probably went to see the Hokage. I head straight down the middle and storm into Tsunade's office.

Sure enough an unconscious Uchiha lays across a makeshift examining table, Tsunade hovering over him. I shoot the guards a glare as they stand at attention on the other side of her room. I stand opposite Tsunade, hands behind my back, stifling my impatience.

"So I assume you were en route to bring this to my attention but got sidetracked somehow, isn't that right Sakura?"

"I was busy prepping the surgery room."

"Tsunade-sama, she informed us that you gave the orders to have him treated," one of the guards puts in.

She raises her head and the look in her eyes as she meets my gaze is deadly.

"That I did," she acquiesces, then looks to one of the guards, "Find Mikuma-san and get him into the ER. I'll be there shortly."

The guards pull him off the table and I watch Sasuke go until the doors close. I lower my eyes to the floor.

"What the hell were you thinking bringing him in here by yourself? Do you have any idea how dangerous this man is?"

I chew my lip, wring my fingers, then raise my eyes. Her cheeks are red as if she's been drinking, her nostrils flaring, hands planted firmly on her desk.

"What were you going to do, Sakura? Tell me."

"He is dying, Tsunade-sama, what was I supposed to do?"

"Leave him to fend for himself!"

"How can you say that?" I question incredulously, "We are medics, we are supposed - "

She holds her hand up to stop me.

"Sakura, I get it, I do. You've known him since you were children, I understand how hard it is to see a team member years after such a devastating betrayal. I understand that your first response is to go to them, especially if they're in need."

Just like that she snuffs my fire. What am I suppose to say? What can I say that justifies my situation, differentiates it from hers? I exhale, lowering my eyes. I've conceded.

"Now Sakura, I'm sure this is difficult for you. I can imagine how badly you want to be in that room right now, helping him, but I can't allow it. I can't risk you interfering in anything that might need to happen during the procedure."

"Tsunade-sama, that's -"

"Final. That is final," I hear the clack of her shoes as she moves toward me. Her hand rests on my shoulder and she gives it a squeeze, "I'm sorry Sakura-chan. Go home and rest, I'm sure you need it."

She begins to walk out and I turn about.

"What do we tell Naruto?"

"We keep it under wraps for now, especially to the rest of the village," she pauses, "We don't need to go ruining his vacation."

She closes the door behind her and almost immediately the exhaustion hits.

Dejection

Vulnerability

Weakness

I'm shaking

And then I cry, sinking to the floor in a puddle of matted nerves and broken spirits.

I take a deep breath as I remove my clothing, sliding off the belt with the scroll attached to it. Shit.

Placing the scroll on my bedside table, I settle for taking it back to Tsunade after my shower. As I turn the nobs to the correct temperature, I see the blood on my hands. How did I not notice it before?

The color is deep and dried, cracking along the lines of my palms.

Sasuke's blood.

I step into the steam and stream, rubbing my hands frantically to erase the day; the blood, the sweat, the grime of old memories. I scrub until my flesh is raw and pink; reborn.

That's what I am.

That's what I became after he left us; reborn.

I am reborn.

And I will be reborn as many times as it takes.