Author's Note: This was a oneshot idea I put together about a month and a half ago and it escalated a little bit. I'm currently focusing on my main project, Prisoner, so this one was completed in my free time when I needed a break from Prisoner. This ship is easily one of my favorites and I have a few other ideas planned for it, this fic just happened to get finished first.

Disclaimer: I'm rusty on my Supernatural lore so some of the technicalities may be a little off. However, I do have some of my own lore behind Madara's family that I will address in a oneshot based on this fic. I can easily see this being the start of a series of drabbles/oneshots building up this little world. Regardless, I hope you enjoy this.

…

"Tobi! I haven't heard from you in months! How are things going at the school?" Hashirama's voice was loud, even with the volume turned down on Tobirama's phone. The sounds of a bass-heavy beat and bar glasses clinking together gave Tobirama a good idea of what his brother was currently up to. The man's wife needed to keep a tighter leash on the idiot if she didn't want him to end up drugged and missing a kidney one of these days. His habit of reckless partying had gotten him in dangerous situations before, even if Tobirama's older brother didn't remember some of his misadventures. Said misadventures were directly responsible for Tobirama's current line of work and the lies that had to spill from his lips every time he had to check in with Hashirama.

"Everything is going well. I've been accepted into the Master's degree program for Organic Chemistry." He folded the bloody rag he had used to clean his newly-stitched thigh and set it into a worn duffle bag. He would have to find an opportunity to wash it soon, along with his ever-growing collection of bloody clothes.

"I spend most of my time in the lab nowadays so I haven't had much free time to call. I'm sorry, anija." Picking up his shotgun, he started the process of dismantling it on the cheap hotel bed he was sitting on so it could be properly cleaned. He was always meticulous with his weapons, yet his shotgun always tended to get the brunt of whatever disgusting mess he made on his hunts.

"Itama called last week and I didn't get a chance to call him back until two days later. He made sure to remind me to take breaks and begged me to come home for a visit, as I'm sure you're about to do. It's just been difficult to find much time for myself lately." He put the phone on Speaker so he could use both of his hands to scrub at the crusted blood on the barrel of his gun. He was not looking forward to cleaning his machete after this. His hack-and-slash method of saving his ammunition hadn't done much for him other than give him more to clean at the end of the night. If he hadn't been stingy about his ammo, his prey wouldn't have gotten that lucky hit on him.

"I may be able to come home sometime this summer, though. How are things with Yumi?" he asked, pausing his work for a moment. His brother was suspiciously quiet and hadn't interrupted him throughout his update which immediately set off a red flag in his head.

"Ah, well, about that…" There was a pause and someone laughed in the background. "We're getting a divorce." Tobirama let the silence between them hang for a moment. "I mean, I'm not too surprised. She just hasn't wanted to come out with me to The Village for the last few months and she's been growing distant. I guess I didn't notice it until it was too late. I-I'm pretty upset about it but I know why she's doing it after we took some time to talk about it. We kind of agreed that we wanted different things. She wants kids and the white picket fence dream and I'm just not ready for it yet. She got tired of waiting and we sign the papers next week." The moment of silence following the sudden news was nearly deafening. Tobirama started picking at a particularly stubborn spot on the barrel that had melted into the metal, likely something organic that had landed on it prior to a few shots that had heated the barrel.

"I'm… sorry to hear that, anija," Tobirama nearly mumbled. He had never really liked that woman. Hashirama had met her at a strip club where she was the one on the pole every Friday night at midnight on-the-dot and he had chased her like a lovesick dog, drool and all. As far as Tobirama was concerned, she was a leech. She'd stopped that line of work only after Hashirama had inherited their father's company and had moved them into a massive home with all of the luxuries Hashirama could possibly afford off of her 'Must-Have List.'

"You don't have to pretend, Tobi. I know you didn't like her. I think this might be for the best anyway. You'll visit more often, right? I know she drove a wedge between us for a while and, with everything changing in the next week, I just can't wait to see you again! I miss my little brother!" Tobirama rolled his eyes. The alcohol must have just kicked in. Hashirama was already an emotional individual, alcohol would have him blubbering in less than an hour.

"I'll do my best. You know I can't promise anything with how busy I've been. It'll only get more intense with my acceptance into the Master's program. I'll at least try to come by in a few weeks when classes let out for the summer." He knew he most likely wouldn't be able to make that happen but he wouldn't squash his brother's hopes right off the bat. He kept the expectations for his presence low for a reason. When he would have to 'suddenly cancel' in a few weeks, at least his brother would be more understanding knowing that he 'tried.'

"I miss you so much! Try not to work too hard or I'll have to come get you myself!" Hashirama's words were starting to slur. Tobirama sighed and put down the piece he was cleaning, knowing he wouldn't get much more of the mess off the gun without his proper cleaning kit which was safely tucked away at his safehouse several hours away.

"I miss you too. Don't get into trouble, I'm too far away to drag you out of it. I have to get back to work on some formulas I've been working on. I'll call you later, okay?" He tried to keep the exhaustion out of his voice and, if Hashirama had been sober, he would have noticed and said something. Instead, his brother was all too ready to get back to partying.

"Alright, Tobi! I love you!"

"I love you too…"

...

Tobirama rolled out of bed in the early hours of the next morning, groaning and wincing at every bruise and cut that littered his body. He had barely slept the previous night due to the pain and the whiskey he'd drank to numb himself enough to sleep was already wearing off. He hated drinking any form of alcohol after watching his brother follow in his father's footsteps of abusing the bottle for years. However, there were some nights where it was absolutely necessary.

Grabbing his things and checking himself in the mirror for any visible signs that he was injured or was otherwise involved in a massacre of supernatural beings the previous day, he swept out of the room and slowly made his way across the parking lot. He threw his things into the hidden compartment in the trunk of his white '97 Firebird and got behind the wheel with a wince.

He was so sick of dealing with monsters that hunted in packs. It was all he was hunting nowadays with the supernatural beings getting smarter, realizing that there were only a few hunters in the United States that could take on entire packs. He was one of those few. He also didn't have a partner which only boosted his terrifying reputation. The drive to his safehouse was going to take most of the day and part of him was actually grateful he hadn't taken a hunt across the country this time. He needed to rest. It wasn't often that he'd admit it, but the hunts he'd taken lately had really put him through the wringer.

He might even entertain a visit to the Roadhouse on the way back just to check in with Ellen. She may be able to put a pause to the requests flooding in that were requesting him specifically. She would know just how to get people off his back without any rumors spreading that he was hurt or retiring. People seemed to love sniffing out those kinds of weaknesses.

Driving for hours always started with a cup of coffee, however.

After acquiring his much-needed caffeine, he began his trip to the Roadhouse. It was on the way back and the idea of having other hunters be told to make-do without him was sounding more appealing. They needed more people to step up in their field without constantly relying on 'the big dogs,' even if it took some hard lessons to get there. If Tobirama had learned one thing from his piece of shit for a father, it was that sometimes you needed to be thrust into a situation to learn how to survive instead of relying on other people. Was it healthy? No. Did he care? No. It worked for him and he needed a break for once.

After several hours of driving through what seemed to be the middle of nowhere, he was finally able to pull into the gravel parking area near the Roadhouse. It was the middle of the day so the place was practically deserted. He knew Ellen and Jo were there, though. They always were.

Walking through the front door, he strode over to one of the bar stools and plopped himself down, letting out a long exhale as he slumped. Sitting in a car for hours while injured was not ideal.

"Well, I'm happy to see you're in one piece. Heard that you made a mess this time. That's not your usual M.O., Mr. Neat-Freak." Ellen's voice teased as she approached him from the back of the bar. He grunted and put an arm on the bar to lean forward slightly, taking some weight off of a nasty bruise on the back of one of his thighs.

"Ellen, you're going to hear two things from me that you're never going to hear again in your lifetime. One, I need a double shot of whiskey right now. Two, I'm taking a break. A few weeks at least." A stunned silence between the two of them had Tobirama wishing he had the energy to just charge into another hunt like he always did. Anything to avoid the sudden intensity in Ellen's expression. She was looking him over and taking in the fact that he was actually hurt and very, very tired.

"Jameson or Crown?" she asked. He clenched his fist.

"Jameson," he mumbled. He would never touch Crown, even if his life depended on it. Batsuma's drink of choice. What a lot of people didn't know was that the refined cloth bags each bottle of Crown came with had very strong strings. Those strings were surprisingly strong enough to strangle a seven year old abomination of a child with if one was angry and determined enough.

"Here. Not that I'm complaining, but why the sudden change of heart about taking a break? I've been begging you to take a break for years." Ellen set the shot in front of Tobirama and raised an eyebrow as he knocked it back, swallowing it with practiced ease. Setting the glass down, he mulled over her question. What changed? He knew that he was exhausted but that had never stopped him before. He had a stubborn streak so difficult to deal with that Ellen had damn near zip tied him to the very stool he was sitting on just to keep him in one place longer than an hour. He sighed and ran his finger along one of the thick red lines of his tattoos that wrapped around his forearm. It was starting to fade at the edges, no longer crisp and vibrant in color from the age of the lines. The lines on his face were only a little better, the soft skin of his face starting to toughen up with the increased exposure to the elements on his missions.

"I'm just tired. The new pack mentality of the monsters that haven't ever hunted in packs before is just taking a toll. I've also been considering whether or not to finally go back and visit my brothers. It's been years and I just need some time to myself. I'm tired of being called on when some idiots get in over their head and need me to fix it. Some of these hunters need to learn how to do the job on their own without the backup." Tobirama avoided Ellen's eyes. "I won't always be here to pick up where they leave off…" he finished in a tired mumble. A hand slapped down on the bar in front of him and it was only from his experience with sudden, loud movements that kept him from flinching.

"Now you listen here, boy. I'm going to run block for you for a few weeks and you ARE going to visit your brother and you ARE going to do what's best for yourself! You're only twenty-seven and you're talking like an sixty-year-old with a cancer diagnosis! The hunting world will survive without you for a few weeks. If or when you decide to come back, you know where to find us. I will not have you in here sulking and giving me that look. I've seen it before on other hunters and I never like where those hunters end up!" Her harsh words and near yelling had Tobirama staring at her with wide eyes as he leaned back away from the bar. He'd pissed her off before and he'd been on the receiving end of her lectures several times, but there was genuine anger and frustration in her tone this time. He let his emotions fall from his face in a familiar mask.

"Thank you, Ellen. I'll call if I need anything. I'm going to spend some time recovering and I'll keep your advice in mind." She visibly flinched at his bland tone but knew it was too late to say much more. Tobirama was done listening and would agree to anything she said just to get out of the situation now. Tobirama knew that Ellen was smart. She knew he had deeply hidden trauma and she knew he was always on a hair-trigger when it came to shutting himself down. He was too tired to fight down what he always did for survival. Compliance and a termination of emotions were his default tactics.

Which was why he was startled when a gentle, warm hand lightly laid on his own.

"Please, Tobirama. Please, just take care of yourself. I know you think you're some sort of weapon to be used for what we do here but even the best weapons need to be maintained. I don't agree with it, but if you're going to insist on looking at yourself that way, understand that you need to take the time to dust yourself off and come back sharp again. Please. Go home, get some rest, call your brothers, do what you have to do. We'll be here when you get back." With that, she removed her hand and walked away, quickly ducking into the double doors that led to the back of the shop. Tobirama didn't miss the discreet wipe at one of her eyes as she left.

He took a few bills out of his wallet and gently set them on the bar. Ellen hated that he paid for his drinks every time he needed one, but he felt guilty enough for the conversation they just had. With her in the back, she couldn't argue with him this time.

Quietly shuffling off of the barstool with a wince, he made his way out of the Roadhouse's front door and got back into his car. With a deep breath, he put the key in the ignition and continued the drive to his safehouse.