Title: Show Me Hatred
Rating: T
Genre: General/Hurt/Comfort (possible romance if you squint?)
Character(s): Uchiha Itachi and Uchiha Sasuke
Summary: Itachi looked at his brother and closed his eyes. 'Let me purge you of your sin. Give me your hatred. Let me bury it in my grave.'

In general, I wrote this at two different times, so you can see I lost where I was going with this. Lots of religious terms for someone who doesn't go to church. Hmm…

Fire scorched the now-barren wasteland that lay spread before him. The smell of burning flesh reached his nostrils and in his mind, figures and strategies lashed out at him with the barest flickers of his eyes.

Movement. His eyes traced it to a small point across from where he stood. His opponent was crouched, gripping his shoulder and hunched over in pain and for a second, the feeling of genuine concern washed over him. Despite his status as a missing-nin, the boy he was facing was his little brother and even his heart wasn't cold enough to deny the feelings that would entail.

Pain. His face twisted in agony as saliva poured from his contorted mouth and a smaller part of him wished to rush over to Sasuke's side, but he reminded himself that he had no right to touch his brother after what he did. After all, his actions were the cause of this battle.

A strangled cough echoed across the landscape, shaking Itachi to his core. Though his face was disaffected, the sound reverberated in his body as his mind screamed incessant apologies that meant nothing now. The damage was done. Their family was dead and they had the same amount of blood on their hands as the other.

A shadow appeared in the rising curls of dust and Itachi went on autopilot. His moves were smooth and efficient, products of endless training and years of honing his skills as he disposed of his enemy quickly without even batting an eye. It wasn't that surprising because this was what always happened. This was normal and the thought chilled him as his fears were reaffirmed at last. He was a monster, a weapon with no moral conscience and no means to an end.

No, wait, that was wrong. There was going to be an end to him and it was going to happen today by the one person he cared about most. Think of him as you will, but the only people with the right to call him horrible were himself and his brother. His parents didn't have the right after what they did, but he should've expected it. Sinners are borne of sinners and he was no different than the two that spawned him.

'I was only following orders.'

For nights on end since that fateful night in Konoha, that was his only solace. During those days, he did not sleep; he did not eat, instead choosing to waste away in his own self-pity when the Akatsuki found him. And after that, he spent his days waiting, waiting for Sasuke to kill him and redeem their family. Secretly, he would dream of the day he would die, if only to taste that redemption as well as to soothe the conscience of his younger brother.

"Poor otouto…" he whispered, more to himself than towards the subject of his sadness, but the comment had been heard and received as a mocking taunt. It was very well. Sasuke was beyond talking now and had been for years. And even if he told him the truth of that night—that Konoha had signed the death warrant on their family—that he was made the executioner—that truth was a much crueler mistress than anyone had ever thought possible—how would Sasuke react to that? But Itachi already knew the answer.

He wouldn't be able to take it.

And so, Itachi would take this secret to his grave. He threw barb after barb, insult after insult to incite his younger brother's ire. He wanted to feel his hatred, be consumed by the white-hot fire of his rage to burn away his sin. His brother had to kill him and Itachi would accept nothing but that end. He would die and with him, he would take the sins of his family, Konoha, and of Sasuke.

And as he felt his strength drain from his body, he smiled. His journey was finally over and he could finally rest.

As his vision began to fade, he saw an old memory of the two of them when things were simpler. It was spring; their lawn was a lush green sprinkled with small wildflowers and the first dragonflies of the year signaled the approach of an early summer. He had just come back from a mission and on the engawa of his family's house, he spotted his mother and his six-yr-old brother. Upon his arrival, Sasuke bounced up and down on their porch before flying down the flagstone path under the gaze of their watchful mother. Itachi, who was sharing this view, smiled as Sasuke sprinted as fast as his little legs could, only to watch his brother trip and fall on his face.

Alarmed, Itachi immediately leapt to his brother's side and helping the boy up, almost burst out laughing as Sasuke looked at him with a stubborn pout at his foiled attempt at a hug. Taking inventory of his brother's skinned knees and the small gash on his forearm, he signaled to his mother that Sasuke was fine and told his brother not to worry her. In response, Sasuke pouted, remarking it wasn't his fault he fell and that something tripped him. In response, Itachi told him it wasn't nice to lie, causing his brother to hotly retort he wasn't and Itachi to playfully flick Sasuke's forehead, a smile on his face; unaware of the trail his bloodied fingers left on Sasuke's face or the warm smile that would haunt his brother for the rest of his days.