Dreamcatcher

It was half-past midnight when Naruto stumbled out of his client’s door, the old man bidding him an incredibly grateful goodnight. He had every reason to be thankful – Naruto had sucked enough nightmare Matter out of that room for the boy to sleep peacefully for at least three months. Hopefully, that would be long enough for the kid to work through the trauma of his parents’ deaths.

The street was dark now, lit only faintly by lampposts generously spaced along the sidewalk. The contrasting line that divided the light they cast from the shadows blurred eerily in Naruto’s vision, the only evidence of the fading Dreamscape. Most dreams would be long inside their conjurer’s homes by this point, so the streets were empty. As he started down the pavement, he saw the only remaining house light flicker off at the distant end of the street.

He eyed it warily and gnawed his lip, before rolling his eyes at himself. He would have to pass by that house in order to cross through the park next to it, but there was no reason to be nervous. Even if he met the dream Matter of the house’s resident, he could handle it. It wouldn’t necessarily be nightmare Matter, and even if it was he had undoubtedly seen worse in his travels. Nonetheless, he noted as he turned his eyes to the swirling Milky Way above him, the rational thoughts did nothing to quell the uneasy clench of his stomach.

He should have known better – if Lady Tsunade had taught him anything by now, it was to trust his instincts.

He had almost made it past the house when he heard the slither and, against his better judgment, turned to see.

Instinctively he jerked into a defensive position, hand grappling for his pointed necklace. This was like nothing he had seen before.

The nightmare Matter – it was clearly nightmare, never a dream – was still in its fetal form, but was rapidly gaining recognisable shape. Naruto’s fading Dreamscape vision showed him far more than shifting shadows and far more than he’d ever want to see. Instead of the garish and overdramatic Matter of children this seemed almost like boiling flesh, bleeding from gaping wounds and leaving stains in its wake. As Naruto watched, frozen in shock, there was a flash of metal and then –

A face.

Naruto generally considered himself difficult to faze, but he nearly screamed aloud as the Matter took shape – early, early, too early! – and recognisably human forms began to emerge out of the throbbing mass. He knew immediately that the dreamer must be an adult – children rarely had nightmares of people – but he’d never seen anything like this hideous. Not even while drawing and sealing Gaara’s dreams, and that was saying something. His peripheral senses were crying out for attention with the faint sounds of screaming and the tainting stench of torn flesh.

Shaking himself out of a daze Naruto realised that the Matter had reached the house and was beginning to seep through the tiny gaps around the edges of the window. His decision was made impulsively, in an instant – he didn’t give a fuck about breaking and entering, no one should have to sleep through that.

His feet were moving before he’d had any more time to think and he sprinted towards the front door, cloak billowing behind. Thundering up the front steps he tried the doorknob – locked, obviously – and then began to fumble quickly through his innumerable pockets. Finding what he was searching for in a pouch hanging from his belt, he undid the lid of the small jar and stuck his finger into the strong-smelling ointment inside. He smeared the Spell onto the doorknob, following its edges before tracing a quick rune onto its centre. Pocketing the jar he concentrated on what he was about to do – the Spell worked on intentions, so burglars would have no use of it – he twisted the handle and opened the door.

Taking a guess based on the wild hope that this house had at least a vaguely similar layout to Sarutobi’s, he headed for the stairs. Slower now, so as to keep quiet – it wouldn’t do to be mistaken for a burglar, even if it did wake the dreamer up – he climbed them.

It didn’t take him long to find the main bedroom and as he pushed open the door he pricked his thumb once more on his necklace. Fumbling for an empty orb and trying desperately to ignore the pulsing evil coming from the bedroom, he stepped forward, drew his thumb down his forearm, fell to his knees and opened the Dreamscape.

Kyuubi rose up instantly, though Naruto could sense his confusion over being drawn on twice in one night. It didn’t take long, however, for a wave of tension to rip through both of them as they took in the sight before them.

The dreamer was a man, dark hair a stark contrast to his white pillow. Pale skin grew even paler and developed a sheen as the man began to tremble, and the reason why was obvious.

Another man, similar in appearance but taller and inherently more threatening, had stepped – fully formed – out of the Matter’s twisting mess. The man stalked towards the bed, ornate knife clasped in his hand.

This is insane, Naruto thought desperately. Even when people dreamed of humans, they were generally vague – shifting faces and fuzzy images. The man before Naruto looked like he could easily have just walked in off the street.

He snapped back to attention when the man raised his knife, even as his peripheral vision caught sight of the rest of the Matter taking form – corpses? - and he rolled the orb between his fingers.

Kyuubi.

A snarl erupted from the hunched form above him, and Naruto sensed a tingle of anticipation. A…challenge?

Naruto grinned, a love of battle taking over. With a drowsy roll of the head and flutter of the eyelids, he extended his arms and allowed the orb to drop to the floor. He couldn’t let Kyuubi have this one all to himself.

Drawing control.

Kyuubi understood immediately, and with only slight reluctance shifted. Naruto felt the extra weight on his arms and neck – proof of a solid connection between the two of them. Alertness came back to him, and his eyes cleared. In this state Kyuubi would act as an extension of his own body, allowing him to battle the dream. They fought better this way – Naruto understood combat better than the animalistic go-for-the-jugular instincts of the fox. It would, however, completely wipe him out.

But he could worry about that later.

He drew himself to his feet and blinked, eyes opening to show slit red. With a widening grin and newly-grown fangs, he threw himself forward.

The nightmare turned in time to dodge the first fist to the face, and the battle had begun. Barely avoiding an upward thrust from the knife Naruto spun, dropped and kicked upwards violently. His foot barely brushed the man’s chest and missed the target – his chin – entirely as the head tilted backwards just far enough to avoid. Naruto twisted to follow through with a fist and instead choked when a knee collided with his stomach.

Stumbling backwards, he wiped saliva from his lips before snarling and hurling himself forward again.

They clashed brutally, Naruto’s brash technique against the elegant – trained, almost – grace of the dark-eyed dream. Fists flew quickly, punctuated by the occasional powerful kick. The majority of the attacks didn’t find purchase, though Naruto took more hits than the other man. However, Naruto was far more solid and they did very little to deter him.

Breathing heavily by now – no dream should be this strong – Naruto finally saw an opening, and didn’t hesitate to take it. Pushing all his strength into one Kyuubi-infused punch, Naruto landed it directly on the nightmare’s nose. Hearing the crack – or this real – he watched as the dark-haired man flew backwards before retrieving the empty orb from where it had fallen. Pressing his still tender thumb harshly into the swirl on his palm, he watched as the orb began to spin between his hands.

Concentrating on the nightmare unconscious against the far wall – the remaining Matter, while terrifying, didn’t appear to be actively malicious – he drew it forward and into the crystal.

The process was slow and difficult for the exhausted Dreamcatcher, still trying to get his breath back. As he made progress, he raised his eyebrows in bleary surprise.

The orb was glowing blood red.

Naruto had been a Dreamcatcher since he was a child, but his nightmare-filled orbs had always been blue. Hell, they were consistent for all Dreamcatchers – he knew, for example, that Gaara’s were always a pale green. It had become something of a collector’s craze, to purchase a filled orb of every Dreamcatcher.

So why red?

Pushing his concerns aside for the moment, he completed the absorption of the man and focused on the remaining nightmare Matter. As he drew it in, he took stock of his injuries. A knife wound – apparently an attempt to disembowel him – across the stomach. Not too deep, but burning like hell. Another more minor laceration on his left shoulder, as well as some drawn blood on his right thigh. Blood in his mouth, from where teeth had cut into cheek from a particularly hard punch. Bruised ribs as well, it would seem.

Luckily, he healed quickly.

Some unknown period of time later, the last of the nightmare was contained within the orb. Pocketing it, he released the connection with Kyuubi. Immediately all his energy rushed out of him, exhaustion falling upon him like a heavy weight. With a fuzzy gaze, he took in the room. Dark-haired man on the bed, somehow still asleep – but sleeping peacefully. Naruto could see dream Matter beginning to condense, now that the threat of nightmare Matter was gone. It began to take the shape of a woman – a girlfriend, probably – and Naruto looked away. He always found dreams to be rather private things, and never liked to intrude.

The room itself was neat, and absent of clutter. Drawers, a few photographs, a painting on the wall, bloodstain on the – fuck. Bloodstain on the carpet.

Kneeling – hell, he did not have the energy for this – he pulled another Spell from his thigh pouch. Stain removers were a part of the standard Dreamcatching kits that Lady Tsunade created, unlike the more unorthodox unlocking Spell. Uncorking the vial, he shook a small amount of the powder over the stain and yawned as it frothed. Done.

His eyes had begun to close on their own but he dragged himself to his feet, because there was no way he could pass out on the floor of a stranger. With a slight stumble – he felt almost drunk – he made his way to and out the door. Stairs passed in a blur, and he soon found himself outside.

He used the fence as support as he staggered down the pavement towards the park, some part of him already acknowledging that he was never going to make it home. At this point, any shelter would do.

Ahead of him, a tiny structure came into focus. A bus shelter. Heaving a sigh of relief he stumbled towards it and, upon reaching it, fell heavily onto its bench.

He had just enough sense to cover himself in his cloak before handing himself over to the mercy of his own dreams.

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Another Itachi-went-crazy-in-my-emo-past story! Personally, I'm actually more fond of the Itachi-is-a-functional-human-being when it comes to AUs (not because I think he's redeemable in canon. I think he's crazy in canon, but also think it's the circumstances of his childhood that did it to him - a major factor in which was the whole being trained to kill when he was barely out of freaking nappies. And that, friends, is not going to happen in real world AUs, thus sane Itachi) but well hell, something's gotta give the poor kid nightmares. :D

Anyway, review etc. Eee.