A/N: This is dark. I don't know what possessed me to write something like this. I've seen a few fics like it, but none finished, and they all have some sort of slash in them. This is meant to be purely friendship. That being said, it is rated M for violence and implied rape, mentions of rape, and flashbacks that won't be graphic. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! If you don't like that, please don't read it, and please don't flame.

Please forgive me if Itachi and Shikamaru are OOC.

Updates will most likely be sporadic.

Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto. I'm just borrowing the characters.

Shikamaru jerked awake with a start, and then promptly wished he'd stayed unconscious. There wasn't a part of his body that wasn't sore or throbbing in time with his heartbeat.

It took a moment for him to remember what happened, and when he did remember, he felt tears rise unbidden in his eyes.

Had that really happened?

Afraid that it really had, he shifted a little, and immediately clamped his lips together as pain shot up through places he didn't want to think of.

Oh Kami, it really did happen.

This time he couldn't stop the tears as they ran down his face. He sniffed, ashamed of acting like this, but at the same time crying because he was ashamed.

It all just made him cry harder, and for once he wished he didn't have an overactive mind as a sob tore through him and the pain momentarily intensified. He gasped, and sobbed again.

"Well, well, look who woke up."

Shikamaru jerked in surprise, and blinked in the low light as he tried to find the source of the voice. It was him. Unbidden fear coursed through him, making him stiffen.

"Aw, what's the matter with the little Leaf nin? Didn't you enjoy our fun together? I sure did. I bragged to my buddies out there, and they want a turn too."

Dread coursed through Shikamaru.

This couldn't be happening…it couldn't!

The rogue Cloud ninja laughed, and Shikamaru wanted to scoot into the far corner and wrap his arms around himself protectively. Unfortunately, his various wounds and the ropes tied tightly around his wrists and ankles kept him from doing more than look desperate as he tried to shimmy away.

Damn it, I am desperate!

The man just laughed louder.

"Before I let them have a turn though, I thought we'd have another go. You provide more fun than I've had in a while."

Shikamaru felt sick, and the tears continued to roll down his cheeks.

"Please don't," he finally managed to croak out past his bruised throat.

In the dark, he was just able to see the flash of white teeth as the man gave him a feral smile. And then the mouth was descending on him, and Shikamaru was gasping and recoiling as the foreign tongue invaded his mouth.

As the man descended on Shikamaru, he wanted nothing more than to be back at home, lounging in the grass with the Nara deer grazing nearby, as he watched the wispy clouds pass overhead. But he wasn't. Instead, he was stuck in this nightmare that didn't seem to want to end.

Itachi sighed, spitting a mouthful of blood out.

Damn. That last jutsu hurt.

He didn't usually go off on his own, but Kisame had gotten the flu, Really, the flu? and had been laid up when Pein had asked Itachi to go on an information retrieval mission. It was supposed to last a month. Itachi had gotten impatient, and had finished in two days.

He really hated this illness too.

Kisame can lay around back at base with the flu, but I have a terminal illness and get sent on missions. Lovely.

It may have also been this way because no one but Kisame actually knew Itachi was sick.

Subconsciously rubbing at his chest, Itachi stood from his crouched position, gathered chakra into his feet, and leapt up to the trees.

For once, it seemed that Zetsu wasn't spying on him. With that in mind, maybe Itachi would be able to use his free time that he now had from the mission to relax. It was something he direly needed, having worn himself down and making his illness worse as the last year has progressed.

Sasuke will find me soon, and I can't be dead yet. Maybe I can go to Ayaka's inn and take a break there.

Itachi was so deep in thought, he nearly missed the tell tale signs of foreign chakra coming up.

Sloppy. I wasn't thinking. I usually don't do that.

Shaking his head, Itachi stopped, and tried to discern where the chakra was coming from. He quickly created a clone, and sent it forward, hoping that maybe he could get information from it without actually getting caught up in something. It might just be nothing. But in Itachi's life as a shinobi, there was no such thing as being too cautious.

After waiting several minutes, his clone automatically dispelled, and Itachi was able to get information from it.

There was a group of missing ninja up ahead in a camp. There had been various traps set up, but nothing of too much note. His clone had gotten past them, so he wasn't terribly worried. The missing nin were probably low level Jounin, or high level Chunnin. There looked to be about five of them.

What had intrigued him though, was their prisoner. Three of the ninja had been packing up supplies; one had been acting as lookout, and one of them had been hovering over a prone figure. Itachi's clone hadn't been able to make out much of the prisoner, other than the figure was tied and foot and wasn't moving.

Shifting through his clone's memories, he wasn't sure he liked the way the man had been looking at said prisoner.

If Pein or the others get wind of this, I'll never hear the end of it.

Itachi tried to convince himself that it was stupid, that he should let it go, but his curiosity had gotten the better of him. He wanted to see more, and find out who their prisoner was. And maybe free them, if they weren't yet dead.

Yeah. Decide to go on vacation and instead think about rescuing some nobody.

Itachi shook his head, and leapt forward.

It took him about thirty seconds to get to the camp, and their lookout didn't even notice him. Really. The guy was standing right below him, and hadn't reacted to his presence in the slightest.

His sharingan already on, Itachi scanned the camp, and rested his gaze on the form lying limp in front of a clear spot that had appeared to have held a tent recently. Itachi was able to make out all the small details, which were painting an ugly picture.

It was a boy, no older than fifteen. He looked like he was wearing the standard shinobi pants, and some over sized short-sleeved black shirt. Both were absolutely dirty, with blood and dirt and who knew what else. The exposed skin on the boy's arms were covered in bloody cuts that looked to methodical to be accident, and placed in such a way that he knew there was no way they were self inflicted. The kid's hair was matted with blood and dirt, and tangled around the pale face.

Itachi tried not to think of his brother looking like that, but the age and the hair color fit, and he wasn't able to keep the image of a helpless Sasuke out of his head. Unbidden, feelings of rage coursed through him. If it had been Sasuke, Itachi wouldn't have hesitated to kill the men.

It wasn't Sasuke though. It's someone completely different.

But did that mean Itachi should leave him to his fate?

With his sharingan, he was able to tell that the boy was breathing, if barely. He probably had broken ribs based on the way his breath stuttered. His forehead was pinched as well, showing that he was in some amount of pain, even in unconsciousness.

Then, someone made a very crude comment about the boy, and Itachi stiffened, feeling slightly sick. Scanning the prisoner again, he realized what some of the dark stains covering the filthy clothes might be.

Another image of Sasuke came to mind, and Itachi had made up his mind.

There was no way he was going to let this go unpunished. It was unethical, and wrong. Even though he was technically a bad guy, there was no way he would stoop so low.

He really hoped the rest of the Akatsuki never found out about this.

Sharingan flashing, Itachi descended on the group.

They barely had time to scream. The man hovering over the boy actually offered a little bit of a challenge to Itachi. For a minute, that is. And then he fell under a fire jutsu, and that was it.

All five men were dead.

If it had been Sasuke, he would have made them suffer.

Maybe he should have done that anyways.

Kneeling down beside the boy, Itachi stiffened. His acute sense of smell had picked up what he'd been hoping it wouldn't.

The boy had been raped, and by more than one person.

Itachi closed his eyes, and wondered once again why he was doing this.

Sighing, remembering his thoughts of a vacation, Itachi gently scooped the boy into his arms, trying his best to keep from aggravating any injuries. For a brief moment, he stiffened in Itachi's arms, and dark eyes opened to stare up at Itachi. The Uchiha was stunned to see the dark eyes holding much more intelligence than he would have guessed. But then they glazed over, and closed once more, and the boy was once again limp in Itachi's grasp.

Ayaka would help him. The grandmotherly woman knew not to ask questions, and had had a soft spot for Itachi ever since he'd…left Konoha. She even kept secrets from the Akatsuki if he asked.

Sighing, Itachi shook his head, gathered chakra into his feet, and then took off, the strange boy cradled in his arms.

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