[Thread] WEEE-OOH WEEE-OOH WEEE-OOH [EVERYBODY IN!!!]

[lucky_fifth]

The smoke had taken a while to penetrate the heavy old doors that shut the basement laundry away from the rest of the dorm building, and by the time it finally reached a smoke alarm that actually worked the blaze was firmly ensconced. What had started as a small electrical fire was rapidly spreading, lapping hungrily at the coils of wires at the

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[inb4somnia]

Music through headphones turned up far too loud and a pillow shoved over one's face went a long way towards blocking out the rest of the world. Gaara let the tinny noise from the cheap Walkman rattle through his mind while he got the next best thing to actual sleep. He was halfway through First We Take Manhattan when he felt something ice cold trickle across his stomach - ice cold until his brain caught up with his nerves and he realized it was really fucking hot. He scooted off the bed in a flash, landing nimbly on the balls of his feet, crouching, even as he was trying to brush the little sparks off his chest. An answer to his question, "What the fucking hell?" followed almost immediately, and he saw the corner of the ceiling turn black, then red, then a bright orange and white before a good chunk of it opened up and dumped itself on his bed.

He sat on his heels below the smoke, watching the flames eat at his wrinkled covers, half-smiling with rapt attention. The whole business was actually pretty neat, certainly not something one saw every day, until it dawned on him: the fire was burning. His. Stuff.

Fascination turned to rage, and he shrieked, indignant. Lunging through the fire, he went for Shukaku's current avatar - a ripped up teddy bear with green shag patches - but reflex pulled him back as the skin on his hands started to bubble. His howls only grew louder and he tried, again and again, each time getting a little closer to his badly burnt toy. One last reach won him a tenuous grasp of the little stuffed arm in exchange for unbelievable pain in his hands and forearms, and a milder sort of discomfort across his cheeks. Mindless of the pain and of the situation in general, he was trying to bat out the fire from his alter ego when the world went dark.

Something heavy and warm fell all around him, and a slender arm had clamped itself around his waist. Gaara screamed, trying to free himself from whatever new threat had shown up. Shouting - other people's shouting - could be heard, though it was muffled; Gaara didn't care. Couldn't these bastards see he was busy? Couldn't they see he had to do things? He hurt, and he couldn't see anything, and he just wanted desperately to be left alone so he could sit in his corner and inspect his Shukaku.

"Fucking let me go!!"

[finger_walking]

Temari was exhausted by the time she finally hit the snow, Naruto’s stupid fucking shit dropped unceremoniously in her absolutely fury with him. Her own guitars were still in her third story bedroom and the knowledge was gutting, but she knew that her life was the most important possession she had. And she knew that Obito would agree, which is why Velma was still in her case under her bed.

The flashing lights of the arriving fire trucks glowed on the snow, but the blonde paid no attention. Now that Naruto, Anko and Sasuke were safely out of the building and had no more fucking excuses to run back into the smoke, she had fresh concerns. A quick scan of the terrified bodies scattered across the yard outside the door ticked name after name of her list. There was Kankurou smoking in the parking lot with Yuya and some of the other smokers; there was Kiba huddling with Hinata. There was…oh god, where the fuck was Gaara?

Blood turned to ice in her veins as terror drained the color from her face and turned her eyes back to the building. There was a moment of absolutely stillness, a second of frozen panic where her heart stopped dead in her chest. It thumped again, slow and slugging but each beat was closer together until it raced like a jackhammer behind her ribcage, each bruising smack of it gushing adrenaline and rewiring her brain.

She didn’t think, but suddenly her shirt was shucked from her back in one fluid movement and dunked into the snow. Coated in the freezing powder, Temari quickly tied it over her face and nose and ran.

In the searing building, the snow melted and soaked the shirt, giving her a filter against the thick smoke and she ducked low under its cloud. She didn’t notice the heat against the soles of her feet, but she was moving too fast on too light of steps for them to have the chance to burn. The steps were taken two at a time and she was grateful that they, like most of the building, were built on a concrete foundation and so couldn’t crumble in the blaze.

A quick scan of the second floor highlighted Gaara’s dorm room as the only one with a still closed door with thick smoke escaping from under it. The now only damp shirt was pulled from her face and wrapped around the handle, the heat of which she could feel through the material, and the door was shoved open.

Equal parts relief and fury swamped her belly momentarily as processed Haku wrestling with Gaara on the floor, the latter struggling bitterly and clinging the charred form she recognized as Shukaku.

“Haku,” she yelled as she rushed towards them, coughing mightily at the sudden swallow of smoke “Get out of here, I’ll get Gaara.” The instructions were sharply delivered as she pulled at one of Haku’s arm to loosen his grip. “Gaara!” she shouted at her brother, trying to focus his attention on her so she could wrap the now mostly dry shirt as a filter around his mouth and get him out of the fucking building.

[lookoveryondah]

Haku's shoulders loosened in a cool rush of relief when he heard a clear voice addressing him and he nearly laughed out loud when he finally made out Temari's form through watery eyes. If anyone could handle Gaara, it was her. And if there was anyone who clearly couldn't... well, Haku really wasn't that much smaller than he was, but the redhead somehow managed to be one hell of a lot stronger, as Haku's bruised ribs could attest. Letting go of the comforter, he shuffled on hands and knees to give Big Sister better access to her little psycho duckling.

He didn't get far before the blanket fell away, and he could see that Gaara's hands eerily resembled the one time Haku had attempted barbecue. The stuffed mongoose he seemed so desperate to save kept falling from his fingers and the melting plastic stuffing was only making the damage worse. Deciding to take a risk (and hoping to god this wasn't going to make Temari's job any harder) Haku yanked the pillow case off of a stray pillow and used it as a sort of potholder to wrap up the stuffed monster.

"Got- got it, Gaara," he choked out between harsh lungfuls of smoke. "H- have him outside... for you."

Much as he hated to leave, he really couldn't see anything more he could do. Any bit of energy he'd mustered up before was fast failing him, and it was all he could do to scoot out into the hallway still on his knees. Just looking down the stairs was a daunting effort. Despite the care he took lowering himself to the first step, his balance was not on speaking terms with his medication, and he tumbled head-over-heels halfway to the landing before dashing himself against a wall of bricks. He was still trying to reason out where this wall had come from when it reached down a thick-gloved hand and grasped Haku's upper arm in an iron grip, then half lead, half dragged him the rest of the way down the stairs.

"Z'people up there," he mumbled, but a sudden blast of cold air shocked him out of wondering if the fireman had heard him. He was out! He was out. And now he was freezing. Haku closed his eyes and curled around the strange lump in his pillow case, thinking it was best to not think for a while. Someone else could worry about everyone now.

[inb4somnia]

More voices could be heard, which Gaara didn't care about, but suddenly new hands were trying to shove something damp in his face, which was absolutely uncalled for. A growling shriek released itself from his raw throat to let them know exactly how he felt about that, and god was that Temari? What the hell was she trying to do to him?

His attempts to free himself from roommate and family alike were growing more and more halfhearted as it was fast becoming clear to him just how much fire really hurt. And at that point, fuck his lungs, and fuck what they were saying - and fuck where the hell had Shukaku gone!? - the pain, searing pain from his elbows down was blowing everything else away and it was all he could do to crouch there, paralyzed as every tiny movement brought waves of the most unbearable heat and voices like electric jolts were bouncing around in his head. In short order he couldn't process a single finished thought; everything was interrupted halfway through by ohfuckinggodithurts, and by that point he just didn't care anymore why he'd been trying to shove his sister away.

Completely and utterly cowed by his injuries, Gaara let himself be handled as Temari saw fit. An anguished, keening whine was the only tell that he was even still conscious of the situation.