Always Second Best

Disclaimer: Naruto is not my toy, although sometimes I wish it was. Everyone you meet here belongs to Masashi Kishimoto, I just borrow them, occasionally.

Author's
Note: Maa... can I please be done with this fucking AU, now? This takes place about a month after the scene in Tsunade's office.

Warnings: ANGST! ...and referenced past character death.

He
perched alone on the roof, senbon in his right hand, instead of in his
mouth. He looked like some feral beast from a legend, eyes wide, lips
stripped back from his teeth in a lip-splitting grimace, greasy hair
hanging lank and tangled around his face. He wore nothing but an open
flak vest and black cotton workout pants. He had the night off, and
neither knew nor cared who was at the gate. It didn't matter. None of
it mattered.

If anyone was listening -- really listening -- they
might hear the thin, whispering hisses that slid out of his mouth in
time to the rhythm of the senbon's point striking the flesh of his left
hand, leaving small holes that trickled blood. "...not true. not true.
this isn't real none of this is real not happening not true not
true..." And suddenly, with a wild look around, he leapt down from the
rooftop, to the next, headed for the village gate, moving just fast
enough to make it unclear who he was.

And someone had been
listening -- listening and watching. Kakashi watched as Genma fled the
village in a mad haze, and followed him. This was, after all, Genma --
the tokubetsu jounin who could do more damage with less material than
anyone he knew, except perhaps Gai. It wouldn't be safe to leave him
alone with himself, tonight.

Kakashi caught up to the senbon
specialist, and concealed himself in a nearby tree, lowering his chakra
emanations and performing a low-level 'look-elsewhere' genjutsu. He was
fairly certain that Genma was far enough gone that his precautions
would be unnecessary, but there was no point in tempting fate. The
older jounin was actually dangerous.

Genma stared accusingly
into the trees for a few minutes, as if angry with some unseen
opponent, before the scream tore itself from his throat. Kakashi had
been blissfully unaware, prior to this moment, of the sounds one made
inhaling in the midst of a scream, to keep it going. He supposed he had
done it, but he never remembered, so that was okay. But now, that sound
would be permanently inscribed in his consciousness -- that sound of
gagging desperation. And the impotent rage, the pain and the bitterness
just kept pouring from Genma's mouth in a long stream of incoherent
noise. He fell to his knees as the oxygen deprivation took its toll,
but the noise barely wavered.

And then Genma lifted the senbon
in his right hand and slammed it through the center of his left palm.
And the screaming stopped, replaced by a curious, numb silence. He
stared down at his hand, first as if uncomprehending, then as if he
were looking at dying bird. He lifted his left hand to his face with
his right, and kissed the tips of his own fingers as though they were
someone else's. Finally, he leaned to the side, lowering himself to the
floor of the forest, and curled into a ball, clutching the hand to his
chest. Quietly, he wept.

Kakashi was horrified. Was this what it
looked like when a man fell apart? Again, he was sure he had done it,
but he'd never seen it and never remembered it. He dropped silently
from the tree and went to kneel at Genma's side, resting a hand on the
older jounin's shoulder. "Genma? Genma, come on, you can't stay like
this."

Genma opened his eyes, but they didn't look right. He opened his mouth to speak, and started with a cracked hitch. "Hayate...?"

Kakashi flinched as though he'd been slapped. "No, I'm sorry, Genma. I'm just Kakashi."

Genma
curled up more tightly around himself and started to cry again. Kakashi
decided, in that moment, that when he figured out who had killed
Hayate, he was going to fuck him up. Not kill him, of course -- no
matter what Yuugao thought, that honour clearly belonged to Genma --
but maybe break all of his fingers, one joint at a time, and then cut
them off and shove them down his throat. Yeah, it was just a job. Yeah,
it wasn't supposed to be personal. Yeah, this was exactly what he'd
been warning Genma about in the Hokage's office, last month.

It was a whole lot clearer to him, now, just how easy it was to cross that line.

He
pulled Genma's hair away from his face, and stroked the other man's
cheek with the back of his glove. "Shh, it's alright," he lied, voice
surprisingly gentle, "It's all over, now. Let me get you home -- you
can't stay out here all night, the onbaa wil eat you, and then where
will we be, hm?"

"Not home," Genma choked, "Please, not home. I can't--"

"Okay,
not home. Not yours, anyway." Kakashi thought about where to take him.
His own apartment had been the first thought, but it was a squalid
disaster area of a place. He'd forgotten to do the laundry or clean out
the fridge, before that last mission, and he was paying for it now.

"How about I take you to Kotetsu's? He'll know what to do for you. And
I'm sure Izumo has some wonderful tea for these sorts of occasions."

Genma
didn't try to speak again, just nodded and lay limply on the ground.
Kakashi smiled with a cheerfulness that had to have been fake, lifted
Genma in his arms, and ran like hell for the village. He knew Kotetsu
and Izumo were sleeping, but they'd get up for this.