"For you, may my arms be the rocks, and the trees, and the birds in the sky."
-Charlemagne

Later that night, I was lying in bed, and just had to know. What kind of fridge did we get? I know we must have gotten a new one. There was no possible way that Madara would have gone without replacing a major appliance. Did it have an ice dispenser? I needed to know. Besides, I was a bit peckish (I convinced myself) so there was no harm in creeping downstairs for a midnight snack. Or a midnight cup of ice. Possibly. If it so happened to come out crushed right from the refrigerator door.

I made it to the kitchen with no interruption and smiled so hard my cheeks hurt when I saw the dispenser on the door. Yay! Unfortunately, after a semi-thorough inspection of our cabinets I saw that Madara had not, in fact, gotten to replacing any of the dishes. They were completely bare… of everything. And so, I gave into a long withheld childhood desire and climbed in. I know, it seems ridiculous, but we must remember I was only eleven years old. This is the excuse I told myself as I craftily climbed into the empty cabinet, giggling to myself when I fit quite comfortably inside. I had just cracked it open to get out, when I heard Izuna coming into the kitchen.

For whatever reason, I didn't want him to know I was sitting in the cabinet. Maybe I thought I would appear as more mature to Izuna if he never knew that I was actually the sort of kid that still liked climbing into tight spaces. The perk of this particular cabinet was that through the cracked door, I could see the entire remainder of the kitchen. Which was actually quite boring, since Izuna had walked in, opened the fridge, and was now just staring blankly at the inside of it. After what must have been ten full minutes of thought, he pulled out a bar of chocolate and sat down at the table, nibbling to himself – a thousand thoughts in his eyes as he chewed slowly. It was interesting, seeing him when he thought he was alone.

As fate would have it, even his illusion of solitude was broken shortly after he'd sat down by Itachi entering the room. My brother had a lazy pout on his face – an expression I had not yet seen before. His features were less controlled, and the relaxed expression of malcontent looked attractive on him.

"What's wrong?" Izuna asked, concern overtaking his entire body language, leaning half-forward like he was ready to stand up any moment if Itachi needed it.

Itachi raised a hand to calm our uncle, walking over to him and then – to my complete surprise – plopping himself down right on Izuna's lap. It was the first time I noticed that physically, Itachi was smaller than Izuna. Which made sense. While he seemed much older to me, he was only sixteen – his body hadn't yet developed to a point where he was larger than Izuna's admittedly slender build.

Izuna wrapped his arms casually around Itachi's waist, and kissed his shoulder, sighing with relaxation. "Hey, Cuddle-Buddy." He sniffed Itachi's hair and released another breath. Itachi curled farther into our uncle's chest, burying his face in Izuna's neck, reaching blindly behind him for the chocolate bar and breaking off a piece with his index finger and thumb, bringing it to his lips.

For a few minutes, the only sounds heard were the two of them eating the chocolate together, Itachi taking pieces for himself before feeding them to Izuna. There was an oddly platonic nature to the whole affair that I rarely experienced when observing them.

"I could kill him," Itachi said quietly, turning and straddling Izuna's legs so they were face to face, "I feel like I could kill him for what he's done to you … even though you've never told me what it was he did." He raised his hand to Izuna's face, thumb tracing over his cheekbone.

Izuna offered a light smile, "I would allow no such thing. Incest is enough of a family taboo without adding patricide to the list, don't you think?"

"There's this … terror, in your eyes," Itachi stated, eyes diving into Izuna effortlessly in that way he had of looking at a person where you just knew that he saw every single thing. I hated it and loved it all at once, but for now I was happy his gaze wasn't fixed on me.

"I don't have a single memory of it not being there," My brother whispered, "My entire life … as long as I've known you – there has been terror in your eyes."

Izuna maintained their eye contact with a comfortable ease that I envied. He wasn't in the least bit intimidated by Itachi's gaze the way that I always was.

"Is that what's troubling you, my love?" Izuna asked, resting his arms on Itachi's shoulders. "You're right, these eyes have seen too much … and lately they're seeing you unhappy – a great terror indeed."

Itachi's posture slumped, and he bit his lip, thinking of what to say. He held Izuna's waist, tapping subconscious patterns with his fingertips. I realized that while I had previously thought it must be me – the person Itachi was actually the most comfortable around was Izuna. It made me wonder, between the two of them, with which did I feel most myself?

"I just want you and Sasuke to both be happy," Itachi said, "I want you both to have every single thing you could possibly want and more than that, I want you to enjoy every single moment of your lives. I know that it's impossible, and I'm asking for too much from this twisted world we live in, but I just wish that I could fool myself – for one single moment – into thinking that I was enough to heal all the hurt. But I know that I'm not; that I don't even come close… It's just when I think of my father and you – or Sasuke with all of those monsters. I just get so fucking angry." Itachi's voice got deeper as he spoke, and the grip he had on Izuna's waist became harsh – near violent, and I almost gasped in shock from the sudden and furious swell of emotion.

"You're more than enough, sweetheart," Izuna assured, "You've been holding me to this world since the moment I first laid eyes on you. Your love has saved my life so many more times than you know."

It occurred to me for the first time that I was behaving in a way that was somewhat voyeuristic.

While I was well aware that Itachi never seemed to find my presence intrusive – I wasn't sure I could say the same for our uncle. Izuna, despite his robust nature was far from a true exhibitionist. Rather, he was fairly private all things considered.

Not about his sex life – no. But with the industry he worked in, that wasn't exactly a surprise. It was more that he liked to come off as if he was an emotional void, when in truth he had an entire universe inside of him just waiting to be released. Sasuke was sure that either of their therapists would encourage Izuna to release a star or two in a healthy way – and refrain from letting a meteor crash into the kitchen.

But to each his own, right?

"Will you come up to my room with me?" It was Itachi who had asked it, and not Izuna, which at first came somewhat as a surprise, but there was still a lot that I didn't understand about my brother. His grip hadn't relaxed in the slightest – but the tense body language was not at all reflected in his voice. He sounded light, whispery. Not seductive, but … intense. Persuasive.

"Of course," Izuna answered, smiling. He tangled the fingers of his left hand in the hair at the nape of Itachi's neck and ran them through a few times. "Are you looking for me to just stay with you until you fall asleep?" He asked, single brow lifting as his expression turned slightly more coy, "Or shall I have the honor of tiring you out first?"

My brother snorted, rising from his position on Izuna's lap and striding over to the doorway. "We'll see how the evening goes."

XxBxExLxOxVxExDxX

Fugaku Uchiha, contrary to common belief – was really not the biggest ass hole ever to exist on planet earth. Sure he dabbled with frequency in literally all seven sins – but c'mon! Who didn't? His brothers certainly did. Madara and Izuna get to practically marry each other, and here he was – considered the bad guy just because due to circumstances that were frankly no one's business he had let someone else raise his kids? Not fair. Or, at least, not to him.

This was the rant that bounced through the vast abyss of his skull as he drove to Madara's job five days after he'd last seen the man. He had with him the a copy of the script they would be producing together, and wanted to get another set of eyes on it before they started casting the following week. Namely, his brother's. Madara was known for harsh critique – but everything he touched exuded perfection. Fugaku wanted in.

Los Angeles wasn't giving the best first impression as far as easy commuting goes. His rental was ill-prepared to handle the constant inching forward with the gas this low, and he mourned his decision not to stop and fill the tank at the last station.

After several loud road-rage induced exclamation of fury, he finally reached the building he was looking for. The sheer height of it was impressive considering California's reputation for being prone to earthquakes, but he supposed that if you could afford the repair when it all came crashing down – why not reach for the stars? His family's crest stood proud and glistening in the sunlight on the east side of the building, and he had a brief cause for contention – only for it to be quickly stomped out when he saw the cost to park in the lot.

Twenty dollars an hour? He was going to be here all day!

"Fucking ridiculous…" He muttered under his breath, yanking the ticket from the machine and pulling into the first space he saw, completely ignoring the sign that declared it was only for the handicapped.

Luckily for him – Madara's office was quite easy to find. Simply a matter of riding the elevator all the way up to the very top floor an then walking straight down the hall. His secretary was absurdly attractive, and Fugaku was momentarily annoyed by his certainty that Madara paid the little beauty absolutely no mind.

"How're you doing today, pretty lady?" He asked, leaning over her desk and displaying a thousand watt grin.

"Just as married as you are." She answered with a mildly incredulous expression as if she just couldn't believe his behavior.

Okay so she clearly knew who he was. "I think we started off on the wrong foot here…"

"Your brother will be in momentarily, Mr. Uchiha. Please take a seat there." She pointed to a leather three-seater well across the room, and turned to her computer, clicking away at the keys until the phone rang.

"Thank you for calling Uchiha Corp.! You've reached Madara Uchiha's personal desk. This is Mito speaking – how may I help you this morning?"

Sulking just a little, Fugaku went over to the sofa as he'd been told, listening to half of her conversation.

"… No, Mr. Uchiha isn't in at the moment…Yes, I can take a message … Is that so? … I see … If it's that urgent I would suggest calling Mr. Izuna, then… Yes, he should also be listed as an emergency contact on Itachi's file… Not a problem! Feel free to call this number back in ten minutes if you can't reach him and I'll plug you right through to Madara's cell… You too … Goodbye."

Curiosity brimming far over the limit of peaked – Fugaku approached her desk yet again.

"Was that Itachi's school calling?" He asked.

"Please take a seat over there, sir." Mito answered, scribbling something by hand onto a post-it note in a language that he couldn't make out at first. He examined it a bit more closely and then furrowed his brow.

"Is that … Hangul?"

Her eyes snapped up to his with clear irritation. "Your brother prefers that any messages taken down about his personal life are not legible to nosy people."

"Fair enough – but I'm not being nosy. Since you seem to know so much I'm sure you're privy to the information that Itachi is my son."

Mito gave a rudely loud snort. "I'm aware of his genetic disposition yes. I assure you – his biological parentage hasn't ever meant any more to me than it has to you. Now if you would please take a seat!"

Fugaku sat.

He sat and he worried which was something fairly odd to him. Was Itachi okay? He might not have been able to raise the kid himself – but he'd always known that with Madara and Izuna Itachi was okay. At this moment, he wasn't so sure. Why would the school call Madara's personal office? Also – why would the school have a complete waste of space like Izuna listed as an emergency contact? There was only thing Izuna did in an emergency for as long as Fugaku could remember, and that was scream and cry like an infant.

When Madara came into his reception room he was texting – which Fugaku found to be just a little bit annoying.

"Is Itachi alright?" Fugaku asked by way of greeting, and Madara looked somehow pleasantly stunned. He smiled kindly at his brother and nodded.

"He'll be fine, just a little stomach flu probably, nothing to worry about. It does take quite a lot for him to go and admit himself into the infirmary at school, but he's in good hands."

Sneering angrily, Fugaku stood up. "What do you mean in good hands? Your secretary told them to call Izuna."

Madara nodded. "Yes, I was just texting him. Better he leaves work than I do, since I'm so far from the school. Zu's gonna pick him up and take him to the ER so they can hydrate him on an IV. Nurse says he's not keeping water down."

"Would you like for me to put on your coffee, Mr. Uchiha?"

"Yes, Mito. Thanks!"

Fugaku was confused. Here this guy was – telling him that his son was about to go to the hospital and yet he was casually discussing this morning's brew with that stuffy bitch as if nothing of severity was in occurrence!

Clearly able to sense his brother's mood, Madara sighed, looking somewhat sadly towards the younger man.

"This is hardly the first time Itachi has gotten sick, Fugaku. It will doubtlessly not be the last. I know the concept is entirely new to you – but I promise, he'll be fine. Your concern is … touching, but unnecessary at the moment."

Mito didn't look touched.

Deciding to analyze his feelings at a later point, Fugaku nodded and let Madara show him into his office – which was almost obtrusively perfect. He moved his own chair out to the other side of the desk so that they could sit together, and then pulled a pair of reading glasses out of the brief case that Fugaku hadn't even noticed him carrying. Pushing them up on his nose, he pulled out a blank notepad, and held out his hand.

"The script?" He clarified after the tenth second of Fugaku awkwardly staring at his open palm.

"Oh – right!" Pulling it out of his own (slightly shabbier but still just as fucking nice god dammit) brief case, he handed it over.

Madara pressed a button on the telephone on his desk, "Mito I need you to make copies of this script for me and prepare some coffee for my brother if you would, please."

Not five minutes later she had returned with two perfectly foamy lattes and took the script from Madara, promptly reentering the room just two minutes after that with two copies of it in hand.

Fugaku tried not to be nervous when Madara handed him back the original and then took out two ink-pens. "Red is grammatical errors that stand out to me – or wording that distracts from the flow of the scene." He held up the red pen, "Blue," He held up the blue pen, "Are personal suggestions to enhance the picture. Got it?"

Having been in this industry for quite a long time, it took a great deal of work not to show he was insulted. Settling on a stiff nod as his response, Fugaku leaned back in his chair and sipped at his coffee while Madara began to immediately decorate the first page with a highly intrusive amount of ink.

His mind was drifting back to Itachi though, as the seconds ticked on into minutes. Not able to keep water down? So he was throwing up? Non-stop vomiting could easily be a symptom of a Very Bad Thing. Capitalized. Madara's phone was sitting innocently at his desk, and Madara himself was rather immersed with the screen-play, so Fugaku took it upon himself to take a quick browse through the man's recent texts.

Izuna Uchiha: Sweet baby is sick : ((
Izuna Uchiha: Awwww he's been in the infirmary for a whole hour poor thing!
Izuna Uchiha: Sorry I missed your call, I'm on the phone with the nurse.
Izuna Uchiha: I asked her to put him on. Little lamb sounds absolutely miserable.

The texts ended there, and Fugaku could only assume that Madara had received the afore mentioned phone call. Just as he was about to put the phone back down, it vibrated and another few texts from Izuna arrived back to back.

Izuna Uchiha: Salmonella! Fucking salmonella!
Izuna Uchiha: The amount of money we pay this school and the lunches gave MY BABY salmonella!

Next came a picture message of Itachi looking appropriately agonized considering his discomfort.

Izuna Uchiha: They're writing him a prescription for Loperamide? I'm gonna ask wtf that is.
Izuna Uchiha: You do not want to know what that is.
Izuna Uchiha: I'm gonna drop this off to the pharmacy on the way home, can you pick it up after work?

It was when the eldest Uchiha answered Izuna's question that Fugaku realized Madara was not only completely aware of his phone-swiping, but also reading the texts upside-down.

"Of course I can. Also – ask him to text me what kind of take-out Sasuke would like for dinner, so I can pick that up as well. If we've got the salmonella virus in the house I would prefer not to be cooking at home until Itachi is better. Oh – and ask why they didn't prescribe him an antibiotic."

Seeing as he was just a little bit embarrassed to have been caught snooping in the first place – Fugaku made no complaint in typing out Madara's requested messages to Izuna, and waited patiently for a reply, shocked when instead the phone rang.

He answered it, and put it on speaker so that Madara could hear.

"Can't text and drive, Love." Izuna clarified, and Fugaku heard an unpleasant groaning in the background that was, presumably, Itachi. "Hinata's been raving at Sasuke about Umami Burger for about a month or so now, so why don't you pick him up from school and take him out? I'll stay home with Sickie."

Madara frowned.

"You need to eat too, Izuna."

A whimper, and then the unmistakable sound of aggressive vomiting.

"Yikes! Gotta go. Love you!"

Madara looked at his watch and sighed. "If I'm picking up Sasuke from school, we need to wrap this up. I still have two other clients to converse with before four o'clock, and I'll have to skip my lunch as it is."

Fugaku didn't see much wrong with skipping ones lunch. He himself had absolutely no appetite – but he realized something that he hadn't even been willing to consider before. And while he couldn't explain why this realization so severely comforted him – it really, really did.

Itachi was in good hands.

XxBxExLxOxVxExDxX

Twice in the same seven days was a bit too frequent to go out to eat, in my opinion. I was hardly recovered from Friday's weird instance with Deidara and Sasori when Madara showed up at my school the following Wednesday. But Hinata had talked up this burger place way too much for me to say no.

And she'd been right. I never want to eat a hamburger at a single place other than Umami ever again in my life.

Okay, that's a bit of an exaggeration but suffice to say that they're damn delicious.

Mutually agreeing that sitting down together just the two of us was a bit more awkward than either of us could handle, and also mutually anxious to see Itachi – Madara and I ordered our food to go, getting a side of sweet-potato fries for Izuna, who had a strong aversion to red meat.

The car ride was fairly silent after the mandatory 'How was school' and 'Do you have any homework' questions were answered, and I resolved to get started on my math worksheet on the way home. Thankfully, my studious behavior discouraged any further conversation from popping up just to fill the silence. Madara put on some jazz radio station that he could idly hum along to, and I got to work on figuring out what the deal is with triangles.

It was after we got inside that I tasted the fantastic food. Izuna was in the kitchen rinsing out a stainless steel basin and I decided to eat in the dining room so the smell didn't ruin my appetite.

"Where's Itachi?" I asked in-between bites of the sensational meat.

"Asleep in me and Mada's room," Izuna answered, giving a sympathetic pout for my brother's sake. "The doctor gave him some melatonin, and he knocked right out as soon as we got home… poor thing. He looks like a little porcelain doll."

At first I found this hard to believe – but I was fast approaching a new epiphany. The epiphany is this – Itachi Uchiha turns into the most adorable creature in the world when he is sick. It might seem odd to think of my older brother as cute and helpless, but I assure you – anyone who laid eyes on him would have thought the same.

"You never answered me on why they didn't give him antibiotics." Madara stated, handing Izuna the white paper bag that I had had to move off of the passenger seat when I got in the car. It rattled when Izuna held it, and he pulled out a tiny bottle of pills. "After all, you can get a pretty basic version of this stuff over the counter – can't you?"

Izuna nodded, "Yeah, they just upped the dosage a bit. They said he has what's apparently a mild case of salmonella so antibiotics would just make it last longer somehow. I have no idea why – I don't pretend to understand that sort of thing."

Madara looks suspicious and in want of a second opinion.

"And you're sure he got this from the school?"

Izuna nodded, "Mada, when I picked him up the infirmary was like a Civil War film. About the Confederate army. After battle. Post Gettysburg."

"Okay, okay. I get it."

I was a little bit cheered up to understand the reference, as I was studying the very same war in my History class, but decided against expressing this delight, in favor of taking the last bite of my burger. Magical. Hinata deserved a prize.

Then, I made my way upstairs. At this point, begin countdown for the epiphany.

Creaking open Madara and Izuna's door, I was greeted with the sight of a pale-skinned but flush-cheeked Itachi, breathing slowly through his mouth, which was open in a tiny 'O' shape. He was laying on his back, surrounded by pillows and blankets that he had clearly thrown off in his sleep. His hair had a slight curl to it, presumably from sweating, and was sprawled out across an enormous teddy bear that was clearly from the hospital gift-shop. He was laying on its arm, and I wondered how it was that he discarded every single pillow and favored sleeping on the bear. With his head tucked into its armpit, and his leg thrown over its tummy – he looked unbelievingly small.

And since when did he own matching pajamas? Must have also been from the gift shop. My therapist's office was in the same hospital that Izuna had taken him to – and the gift shop was quite extensive.

"You can wake him," I jumped, not having realized that Izuna had crept in and was right behind me, "He needs to take his medication now anyway."

I nodded, "Oniisan?" I called out, coming forward and prodding his shoulder slightly.

He pouted, and my eyes widened, legitimately appalled by the cute.

"I know, right?" Izuna squealed, knowing exactly what I was going through. "He's like a kitten."

"C'mon, Aniki … you gotta wake up." I prodded his shoulder a bit more firmly, and he whined, letting out a frustrated huff of breath.

"M'sleepin … go 'way … I don' feel good." He slurred out in half-English half-Japanese.

Okay that's it. Without his usual eloquent speech pattern he had completely reduced himself to a little ball of sweetness, and I couldn't handle it.

"Itachi-Nii … please!" I hissed out, and he finally blinked his eyes open, scrunching up his whole face when he saw me, and looking around.

"This isn't my room." He stated plainly.

Izuna chuckled, and came to sit beside him on the bed, handing him a bottle of water and a pill. "Swallow this down, sweetheart."

"M'kay." Itachi rasped sleepily, throwing my emotions into panic mode when he lazily opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue for Izuna to put the pill onto rather than just picking it up himself. How? HOW could he be so … ugh. I couldn't take it.

When the pill was successfully swallowed, he detached himself from the bear, wrapping literally all of his limbs around Izuna's lithe body and refusing to budge.

"I've gotta go tell Mada you're doing okay, Cuddle-Buddy," Izuna reminded him – inspiring absolutely no loosening of Itachi's grip.

"I'll tell him," I offered, accepting the thankful glance that Izuna gave when Itachi only tightened his hold and then fell asleep right there against Izuna's chest without another word.

I think that in the short time span of only six days – I grew to see an entirely different side of Itachi and Izuna's relationship. The side that must have been there all along. The side of them that had existed in the very beginning, when Itachi was very, very small – and doubtlessly lost and confused as to why his 'real' parents didn't want him, just as I had always been. I'm sure that Izuna, back then, was lost and confused for his own reasons as well…

I realized that outside of their sexual relationship, Itachi and Izuna maintained this … other side that was very, very sweet. They were … like soulmates, but not in a way that was necessarily only romantic or only platonic. Itachi and Izuna just made sense together – I guess. This, oddly, did not upset me or make me jealous or make me feel anything but good. Because while this relationship did not technically involve me at all – being able to witness it made me feel that much closer to both of them.

And that – that made me smile.

A/N: Thanks for waiting on yet another slow update from me! I haven't even read over this chapter so excuse any typos or other unwanted shite.

The quote from this chapter is very poorly translated and also a wee bit altered to suit its purpose so just ignore that if you will.

Thank you SO MUCH for your continued support and a big thanks to anyone who has reviewed, as well! Y'all are my faves!

Love,

-Beloved