So this chapter just flowed outta me like the night I had food poisoning. Thanks for all your lovely support guys and for understanding the craziness of the holidays! Enjoy!

His brother, the eldest, the prodigy of the Uchiha clan, the warrior first of his name, had finally returned. He arrived in the very same armor he had left with, its edges bent and the chest plate dented. His sword swung at his side as he moved one heavy foot in front of the other.

He was not met with cheers. There was no parade, nor songs sung by his people of the battle he had just witnessed. He walked his streets with hunched shoulders and eyes cast down to his feet. He was shrouded in the clouds of his memories, blinded by a thick haze of anger and desperation. And it seemed no one would approach him, either out of their own fear or because they had already deemed him a blemish on the great Uchiha name.

But then Sasuke ran to him, wrenching free of his mother's protective hold, and enveloped Itachi in a tight embrace. He appeared startled, as if Sasuke had knocked him out of a daze, but then he knelt down and wrapped his arms around his little brother. He shuddered against him, tears wetting Sasuke's yukata, refusing to let go. He was home, but he was not safe.

Then, Itachi felt Sasuke ripped out of his arms and looked up to find the stern, appalled visage of his father scrutinizing him. Fugaku moved in front of Sasuke, an impenetrable wall between the two brothers.

"Did you think we would protect you if you came back here?" Fugaku's tone cut like knives through his son's heart.

"I have nowhere else to go," his throat was dry; he was thirsty and he had not had a decent meal in days, "I will not stay long. I do not wish to put you in danger," his words were solemn, but his tears still flowed.

"And yet that is precisely what your sickening actions have done!" Fugaku barked. Many onlookers had come out of their homes to bear witness to the defamed son of the Uchiha Clan's leader. Sasuke watched from the clutches of his mother who shook with an unconquerable sorrow that ravaged her heart. She did not want Sasuke to succumb to the same fate Itachi had doomed himself to. But, history had a way of repeating itself. She saw it, clear as day, when she looked between her husband and Itachi.

He did not argue his father's accusation; he was well aware of what he had done and of the consequences he would be forced to endure.

"I promise you, I will not stay long," Itachi pleaded, on his knees before his father and the rest of his village. He was not asking for redemption, only shelter; for he knew the former was too far out of reach.

She could not stall her pacing feet, wringing her fingers together as a clamorous cacophony of swords infiltrated the walls of their hideout. Her parents had urged her to sit, but Sakura had refused. She could not keep the worry out of her mind or her heart as she thought of how Sasuke was faring outside. It did not help that she had happened to peer over at the corner of the room where Hinata was hunched, her haunted, transfixed stare miles away from her position on the floor. She knew Hinata was thinking about Naruto, and it only made her worry for Sasuke more. But she could not let herself sit still like that, knowing that her mind would only fret twice as much if her body exerted no energy at all.

Then, suddenly, she heard screams and she stopped her restless feet. She faced the panel door when a blast quaked the ground beneath her and she lost her footing, falling back. Her mother scrambled for her, trying to pull her away from the wall as everything fell into an eery stillness, Sakura's heart being the only thing she could hear.

"Are you a hero?"

"No."

Sasuke did not understand. All his young life his family had told him the Uchiha name was something to brandish, like a medal of valor in a time of war. And his father had said his brother would return a hero, but Itachi did not speak on the year he was away. Very unlike other soldiers of battle, Sasuke had not heard one word from his brother about what had happened during his time in the northern provinces.

"But father said - ,"

"Father was wrong," Itachi stilled his hand that held the stone. Sasuke had watched him sharpen his sword in a rhythm too calculated and sure for a man so disturbed by his own thoughts, "It may seem impossible to you now - he is a wise man - but one day you will understand that he does not possess the knowledge of the world. He can see only so far in front of him and that sight does not extend much farther than the clan," he finally set his eyes on Sasuke, still clutching the hilt of his sword, "There will be times when we are forced to make sacrifices, so that we can protect the people we love."

Sasuke startled awake, eyes wrenched open as a wave of dormant pain rolled over him. He was staring up at a high ceiling and an iron rod that circled around him, partially hiding him behind a thick curtain. Gradually, sound began to filter into his haze, the soft chatter and pained groans of the other occupants in the room. He tried to move, but found his limbs like lead and the pain too great to overcome. A nurse bustled over with a pitcher of water and refilled the glass at his bedside table.

"Do not try to move," she said sternly, "Your injuries are considerable, but you should count yourself lucky; you might walk away with only a few scars."

"Har - Sa - ,"

"The emperor is safe," she said and turned before Sasuke could clarify who he was asking about. The pain began to throb through his body again, reaching a boiling point too difficult to ignore. He let himself succumb to it and basked in the blinding numbness that followed.

Sakura did not realize how much she had expected to see Sasuke waiting outside for her when she emerged until she felt utter panic seize her at his absence. She had spent the rest of the night inside that crawlspace, waiting for the palace to be deemed safe enough so that they might come out of hiding. Kakashi-san was there instead, guiding her parents out of the sitting room, but Sakura began in the opposite direction, eyes scanning her desolate garden and the rubble in the distance where the smoke of a dying fire still billowed into the sky.

"Sakura," her mother hissed, eyes narrowed and hand outstretched to receive her. Sakura hesitated, gaze flickering between Mebuki and the devastation of the blast, "Come."

Sakura turned and walked toward her mother who tucked her into her side.

"Sir, we've found another body," Kakashi spoke quietly to the Emperor, out of earshot of Sakura's ladies, but she had heard. Sakura felt the breath stolen from her, syphoned from her lungs, a feeling thick as lead replacing it. There were bodies?

She couldn't croak out the word "Who?" Instead, she tore herself away, gathering the skirt of her robe in a vice grip and ran across the frozen field, the calls of her parents dying on the wind. The thump of her heart caused a ringing in her ears and the only thought circling her mind was: not him. Kami, not him.

She came upon the desolate brick and ruin, but found much more than she had petitioned for. Slain men were strewn in the most crude manor, limbs flung this way and that, beneath the pieces of the crumbled building. Around her lay a menagerie of appendages separated from other parts of their bodies. Bile rose in her throat; how could she know if any of them were Sasuke? And what if they were? What if that was his arm slung over that brick or his leg trapped under a wooden beam? She could have collapsed under the weight of her own fear and disgust, but Kakashi caught her by the waist before she did.

"Come this way, Haruno-sama. You should not see these things," he urged her away as she began to tremble, leading her across the snow covered grounds. Her parents ran to her, Mebuki clutching Sakura tightly against her chest.

"Are you mad?!" Mebuki questioned, "Why would you wish to see such carnage?"

Sakura could only shake her head; she did not have an answer for her mother. She feared, too, that if she opened her mouth, she would not be able to contain what spilled forth, be it vitriol words or something much more incriminating.

"Perhaps you should rest, dear," Kizashi pulled her away from Mebuki. He took Sakura's hand and, after digging in his pocket, placed two keys in her open palm, "I've had your locks changed, as a precaution, and given you a spare. Kakashi-san, please escort her to her rooms."

Kakashi nodded and extended his arm which Sakura took with an unsteady hand. He led her away from the concerned stares of her ladies and took her around the path of the garden towards her rooms. He opened the door for her and she stepped quietly inside, gaze fixed on the clean floor no longer stained with the blood of the soldier that had threatened her life. She did not want to lift her eyes to see the rest of the room; she was terrified it would look exactly the same, like nothing had ever happened.

"Do you require anything?" Kakashi asked. Sakura stuttered in her steps, then turned to look up at him. She wanted to ask about Sasuke; she had to know, but at the same time, the part of her that was still hoping, praying he had made it out alive was also telling her not to raise suspicion. It would be difficult enough to explain why she had rushed to the graveyard of the blast in such a terrified frenzy.

"Were there any survivors last night?" he gave her an odd look; she had survived. She swallowed thickly and drew her bottom lip between her teeth before speaking again, "My guard, is he all right?"

Her heart pulsed tremulously, stammering and fighting against the small beat of silence that felt to her like an eternity.

"He is in the infirmary, recovering."

Sakura let go of the breath she had been holding and nodded softly.

"That is a relief."

"Indeed," Kakashi paused, his foot passing over the threshold, "Visitation hours end at nightfall."

With that, he left her room, shutting the door behind him. Sakura sank to her knees, the exhaustion of her helpless night passed behind the wall and the exertion of her heart causing her to crumble on the floor. She was so utterly drained that she could not move, could not think what to do in that moment, but still she felt the thread and she knew she wanted to pull herself to the other end. She knew she wanted to see him, needed to know that he was going to be okay.

Sakura slipped outside and found herself surprised that there was no guard at her door, but she could see most of the palace's occupants were engrossed with the destruction of the penitentiary. She went off in the other direction, following the path to the infirmary, a building she had not visited since she was a child learning, and failing, to ride on horseback.

"Haruno-sama, you should not be here," a harried nurse rushed over to her when she entered, "It is a gruesome sight."

"I will be only a moment, I - ," her eyes scanned the room, passing over the gurneys of men with bandaged limbs and, some, faces. She felt herself cut short, her stomach roiling with unease and fear.

"Are you looking for someone?"

"U - Uzumaki-san, where is he?"

"At the end, last curtain on the right," the nurse led her down the rows and peeled back the thick cloth. Sakura swore her heart stopped; she could feel it fissuring down the center. The nurse pulled a chair up to his bedside, "I will be attending to the others. If you do need anything, please call for me."

Sakura could only nod, but the nurse was already walking away. She shut the curtains, allowing them privacy, muting the world just beyond, and collapsed in the chair. With a trembling hand over her mouth, her eyes raked over the damage he'd endured. His forehead was covered with a thick white bandage, his left arm in a tight sling, and his unclothed abdomen was wrapped with bloodied gauze. His pants were torn up to the thighs where she saw a decoration of cuts and bruises, shining with the application of a salve. Yet with all this pain, he was fast asleep. Sakura took his right hand, placing her palm over his and squeezing tightly.

"I'm so sorry, Sasuke-kun," her voice bubbled barely over a whisper. A guilt she hadn't known she'd been holding on to surfaced like an unwelcome memory. The only reason he was still there was because she had told him to stay. She had used his affection as a weapon against him, forcing him into a trap. His fingers twitched and she felt him return her hold with as much strength as he could garner.

"Sa - ura," he croaked, brows screwing shut before his lids fluttered open. His dark eyes, pupils blown so wide that they became lost in his irises, focused on her, "Are - okay?"

"Sasuke-kun, stop," she placed a hand on his cheek, stroking his jawline, "Please, do not talk."

He began to move, attempting to shift himself on his side, but she pushed against his chest, coaxing him back.

"Sakura, a - you okay?" he tried to lace their fingers together, to pull their hands closer, but he found himself to be too debilitated.

"Please, do not worry for me," Sakura shook her head, "I am so sorry, Sasuke-kun."

"It is not your fault," he said softly, fighting against the haze of sleep and pain.

"If I had not told you to stay - ,"

"You might be dead," he snapped, made lucid by her admission, and looked away from her. She swallowed and dropped her eyes.

"I understand you must be very cross with me," she said forlornly. Sasuke was not sure if he was. He was not certain of what he was feeling at that moment, except for the relief flowing through him at her safety.

"Are you not cross with me?"

"I do not know," she answered honestly, but rested her head at his side on the gurney, "I am just so happy you are safe."

He pulled his hand back to rest at her cheek where he swept away strands of her hair. He closed his eyes, tangling his fingers in her soft tendrils.

"I am sorry, too."

Sakura slipped her hand over his abdomen, fingers just centimeters from the gauze soaked with his fresh blood. Their breaths fell into synchronicity, so much so that, for a moment, Sakura imagined they were back in her room, in the comfort of her own bed.

"I do not want you to leave my side again," she whispered, "I can not bear it."

"I have told you, one day you will have to."

"Stop it. I can not think about that now, I do not wish to."

"Sakura, it is inevitable," he sounded tired, exhausted not only by the events of the previous night but by the same loop they seemed to always find themselves in, mostly by his own tormented hand. She swallowed harshly, thumb stroking against his skin, tracing the line of a muscle.

"As is my love for you," she whispered, "It seems," Sasuke opened his eyes, teeth gritted as he peered down at her. She was not looking at him, but he felt the scene was already too familiar. He could have guessed they had fallen asleep in similar positions a hundred times before, though he knew it was not true. But he knew he loved Sakura and he was suddenly very afraid at the prospect of sharing his feelings with her.

"I have hated your family for as long as I can remember," Sakura shut her eyes as she spoke, "Were you taught to hate mine?"

"Not hate," Sasuke mused, "Dislike perhaps," he shook his head, unable to stop the words from leaving his mouth, "But that became irrelevant when I met you."

Sakura fell quiet for a moment, her inquiry burning on her tongue. She struggled to bite it back, but as always, her feelings seemed to beat out the strength of her discretion.

"Why did he do it?

"Itachi never told me," Sasuke spoke slowly, fighting off the clutches of darkness as it edged into his eyes. He grit his teeth, "But he is gone now, so I suppose justice has been served."

Was it justice?, she wondered. It did not feel like it, not when she saw how fragile Sasuke had become in that moment.

"Your pain does not assuage mine," she murmured, "Nothing can replace the brother I never knew. And what's more, perhaps even worse still, no one could replace you."

Sasuke twisted his fingers in her hair, tight enough that she felt a soft pull, but she did not mind; the touch reminded her of his presence beside her, that he was not running into danger, at least in that moment.

"Sakura, I have to know," he swallowed harshly and looked anywhere but at her, "The blood on your sheets - was that me?"

He felt her stiffen beside him and her eyes snapped open.

"Sasuke-kun," she spoke carefully, with trepidation, "I will not lie to you, but please do not think you have done anything wrong."

"You have to go," he took his hand away, almost violently so. Her head shot up at that, eyes narrowing.

"What? No. Sasuke-kun, I will not just leave you like this."

"It is not fair to you to prolong something that will invariably end. I have already done too much damage."

She fell into a long, wordless stare.

"So, you think me damaged?"

"That is not what I said," he protested, feeling weak against the strain it took to lift his head.

"It is what you implied," she snapped in a harsh whisper. He realized he could not argue that point. She was tainted by him in a way that was irrevocable now, "You said I would have no decision in how I felt for you once I knew the truth," she took a deep breath, eyes not wavering from his, "You were right. I can not change the fact that I still love you. Nor can you."

They fell silent and Sasuke was compelled to look away, to see anything but her, like the bits of dust floating in the air, lighted by the sun streaming in from the exposed window above him.

"Do you expect me to act as if nothing has occurred between us?" her words were clipped; she had grown tired of his silence.

"Yes," he could barely get that one syllable out.

"But you protected me, again," she could not bring herself to understand his reasoning. It suddenly felt like eons ago that they had spent an evening wrapped within each other's arms. And still, the man she knew and the Uchiha she faced felt like two different people, "Why?"

"If you die, I might as well be subjected to the same fate," he could not meet her desperate gaze, words torn from him like an animal gutted, "To save myself a lifetime of suffering worse than the pain of death."

"Yet, you seek to push me away," he was not making sense to her.

"I am afraid of hurting you more than I already have."

"So now that you have bared yourself before me, shared your secrets, at least those most buried deep, I am to have none of you again?"

"We could never have possessed each other wholly," finally he looked at her, sober and fierce, "You are not mine to have."

"It does not matter to me that we are not supposed to be together. It only matters that you want me," her breath stuttered through her trembling lips, "As I want you."

"And what will you do when your family forces you to marry? Will I continue to be your lover in secret? Whilst your husband sleeps am I to come fuck you like an Empress's whore?" he spat the words in a quiet tirade, so cruelly that Sakura flinched.

"I know only that I despise the future and I wish to live solely for these moments I have with you, short as they might be," she hissed, "Do not treat me like a petulant child simply because you are as miserable about this situation as I am."

She fished in her pocket for one of the keys to her rooms and slammed it on the table beside his empty glass of water.

"My father changed the locks to my room," her eyes raked over him in a cold calculating manner as she stood, "I want you to have the spare."

Sakura yanked the curtain back and stormed out of the infirmary, bypassing the busied nurses. She rounded snowy corners until she came upon her rooms and hurried through the entrance. In a fury, she ran to her bedroom and locked the door, then went about shutting her curtains until she was bathed in darkness. She peeled off her robe, leaving it on the floor, and sat in her slip at the edge of her bed. She remembered the first night he had saved her, when he had pulled her back to that very room, wretched and frightened at the prospect of losing her, but possessed completely by passion. He had burned with a fire that seemed like it would never extinguish. Now, she had to wonder if that same flame was barely flickering with life. She did not understand how he could speak his devotion, yet instead of act on it, push her away.

She did not think she could endure the torment any longer. But at the same time, she knew the validity of his fears. She was aware there were and would be consequences for her actions, but they failed to press as insistently as her need for Sasuke did. And that was all the justification she required to attempt to keep him at her side and within her heart.

"I came to warn you!" Itachi shouted and it caused his father to stop at the threshold of their house, "The choice is yours to believe me or not, but I am taking Sasuke away from here. I will protect him, even if you fail to."

Fugaku spun on his heel, angered by Itachi's words, concerned more for his pride in that moment than the truth of his traitorous son's warning.

"You think me unfit to protect my own son?"

"I am a product of your own design, father," his voice was cold, tempered with disdain.

"You insolent, contemptible - ,"

"Fugaku!" Mikoto burst out of the house like a gale and came to stand beside Itachi, "You are blinded by your own pain! He is our child!"

Fugaku clenched his fists, nostrils flaring as he fought to calm his breath. Behind him, Sasuke stood by the door, watching with fearful curiosity at the exchange between his family.

"I can keep Sasuke safe. I have arranged for him to be taken far from Konoha. No one will ever know he is an Uchiha," Itachi's voice betrayed him, desperation filtering into his words.

"It is your fault he can not carry our name with honor," Fugaku spat.

"The Uchiha name was tainted long before this war ever started," Itachi hissed, "You saw to that when you defied the Emperor's will. I merely finished the task for you."

"You dare slander me in my own home?!"

"This was once my home, too!" Mikoto gripped Itachi's arm as he began to advance on his father, "And though I was exiled, I will still fight to my dying breath to protect it! The Akatsuki are coming. The Hokage will not help you and the Emperor can not stop them. They have destroyed villages before and this one will be no different, father. But if you leave now, you can survive," Itachi watched Fugaku; he had settled into a grave look of contemplation, "Please, listen to me."

"Fugaku, what if Itachi is right?" Mikoto questioned, "We have no chance! We have to get Sasuke to safety! He is only a boy."

Fugaku scowled and shook his head.

"Why should I trust you?"

There was a distance there, something tangible that Itachi had perhaps never noticed until that moment. But it stretched between he and his father, opening like a chasm, allowing every memory shared, every piece of their history to become a part of that distance. It did not matter that Fugaku had held Itachi's hands when he had taken his first steps. It did not matter that Fugaku had watched Itachi do the same for Sasuke. Itachi had sealed his own fate, had left every bridge to scorching ruins and every tie like a ribbon weathered by a storm the day he had killed his best friend.

"Whether you trust my words or not, I am taking Sasuke before the Akatsuki come."