Author's Note: Hey everyone! I am so super sorry about the long wait for this chapter! I know, I don't have a good excuse, so much has been going on in my life and I've been working on other projects, but I haven't given up on this story. I do want to finish it and I know where I want to go, it's just getting there that's taxing. Don't worry! I haven't given up and hearing from y'all has really helped push me along! I do enjoy hearing from all of you! Thank you all for over 200 reviews! I appreciate it! Let me know what you think! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing except for the OC's I create.

Warnings: Language, OOCness, un-beta'd, talk of death.

Word Count: 4,568

Madara stares back at Itachi with his eyebrows pulled together tightly. "What? What does that mean?"

Itachi turns away a bit, not able to look into Madara's eyes anymore. Too ashamed. He raises his eyes slowly to see Hashirama staring at him, eyebrows pulled together tightly. He didn't know what else to do. There is no way that Madara and Izuna are going to just let him continue to get away with this. Damn! Why couldn't he have just surrounded himself with people who honestly didn't give a shit about his physical health so long as he was still doing his job and managing it in his own way. Why did he have to have wonderful brothers and friends who unfortunately gave a fuck?

"I'm dying, Madara," Itachi says softly, looking up at his big brother's wide black eyes.

"What are you saying?" Madara asks blandly, obviously not liking Itachi's words. If Itachi was to bust out laughing and say that this was all a joke, he's about two hundred percent certain Madara would beat the ever loving hell out of him. There would be a moment of surprise, then of disbelief, then rage and that would be the last thing Itachi would ever see. Madara would beat the ever loving hell out of him until he would never be able to walk or talk again, nurse him back to health, only to do it again.

If only Itachi was joking.

Itachi didn't know if he could even form the words. He's not even sure what to say beyond that. His dark eyes rise to the only person who might be able to say something, Hashirama. Itachi walks over to him, stopping in front of him before reaching out and taking his hand and putting it on his chest, staring up into Hashirama's kind brown eyes.

"Feel," Itachi says at Hashirama's confused look.

"Feel what?" Hashirama asks slowly.

"Inside." Itachi closes his eyes, letting out a shaky breath. Hashirama stares down at him, understandably confused before he sends chakra to his hand. Even with his eyes closed, Itachi could practically see the crease forming between Hashirama's eyebrows as his other hand lands on his stomach, sending chakra there too. He hears Hashirama gasp softly as he slowly moves his hands across Itachi's chest and stomach.

Hashirama starts shaking his head. His dark brown eyes are staring at his dark blue shirt, but they aren't seeing it. His 'sight' is on the inside of Itachi's body.

"Kami," Hashirama whispers, the horror evident in his voice.

"What?" Izuna asks, looking at them with wide, pitch black eyes. Now if Hashirama was joking around, Madara and Izuna would beat the hell out of him.

Hashirama shakes his head a little bit more, his hands moving more frantic across Itachi's chest and stomach. It's kind of odd to Itachi, having someone touching him like that, but he knew that he had to ignore it. It was too late to go back now, no matter what. Even if he wanted to.

Hashirama's eyebrows pull together tightly, brown eyes flickering back and forth, not seeing with his eyes but with his hands.

"Hashirama," Madara says, his voice completely toneless, the muscles along his throat and jaw are working. "Hashirama, what is going on?"

Hashirama pulls his hands away, blinking a few times to focus in on Itachi's face. He studies the younger boy for a moment, while Itachi closes his shirt back up, tying it into place. Hashirama reaches out toward Itachi again, like he wants to grab hold of the younger boy and pull him to his chest, but his hands close into tight fists and a pained look crosses over his face.

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" Hashirama asks softly.

"I didn't want anyone to worry about me," Itachi admits. "And..." he hesitates, before confessing, "I honestly didn't care."

Hashirama flinches, like Itachi's words were a physical slap to his face. "Not care?" Hashirama echoes. "Not care? How can you not care about your own health? Itachi, do you have any idea how bad this is?"

"I do," Itachi says calmly, staring up into the Senju Patriarch's eyes.

Hashirama shakes his head. "I don't think you do! You wouldn't be so calm if you knew what I do! If you saw what I did!" Itachi can see Madara and Izuna exchanging alarmed looks in his peripheral.

Itachi reaches up and tucks a loose strand of hair behind his ear. "I'm going to die young, right?" Izuna and Madara practically yelp in alarm, snapping their necks toward him.

"Not just that," Hashirama says, his voice a mixture of panicked and angry, "but soon!" He looks desperate for Itachi to feel the same kind of alarm that he - and Itachi's brothers now - feel. But none of this was news to him. Itachi knew, right away, that this sickness was going to kill him. He was going to die from this. It was as simple as that.

"I know," Itachi says.

"What is happening?" Madara asks, his voice laced with rage. "He's sick?"

"Very," Hashirama says, looking over at Madara. "I don't even know how to tell you."

"Just say it," Madara snarls. "I can take it."

Judging by the look on Hashirama, Itachi's not the only one who didn't buy that in the slightest. Hashirama looks over at Itachi and asks, instead, "Do you know what it's doing to you?"

Itachi shakes his head. "Not really. Just that it hurts is all."

"I bet it does," Hashirama says, brokenly. "I bet it hurts so bad. Itachi, this sickness is liquefying your organs. They are covered in some sort of horrible substance that is breaking them down. I have no idea how you are functioning."

"Poison?" Izuna asks, faint hope in his voice. If it's poison, they might be able to fix it.

Hashirama shakes his head. "Not that I saw. It's your body turning against you. I've never seen anything like this before. Why, Itachi, why? Why didn't you ever say anything to me! I would have helped you."

Itachi smiles ruefully at Hashirama. "I know you would have. But I don't want your help. I don't want anyone's help. I want to find the bastards that killed my brother, and yours," he looks between Hashirama and Tobirama, who probably came to see what was going on, standing off to the side like he wasn't part of the conversation, before looking at his own brothers, "and I didn't want you guys to focus on me. I want to avenge Marume and Kawarama. I don't care about me."

"You don't care about us, either?" Madara asks, chillingly, his eyes narrowed.

Itachi is surprised by his question. "No, of course I care about you. And Izuna."

"You have a hell of a way of showing it," Izuna says bitterly, glaring at him, while Madara is shaking his head.

"No, you don't. You don't care about us. If you cared about Izuna and I, you would do everything you could to take care of yourself, to make sure that you would be able to stay with us for as long as humanly possible." Madara looks absolutely pissed. Itachi understands it, to a degree, but he can't bring himself to feel bad about it. It's how he feels. He doesn't care about himself, but he does care about his brothers. Would he love to be able to spend the rest of his life with his brothers? Sure, he would. But it's not realistic. He's in this world because he wasn't strong enough to get to Marume in time. It should have been Marume that was with them instead of Itachi.

But it wasn't.

"I love you," Itachi says, looking between Madara and Izuna. "I really do. But I won't let you guilt me into fighting for something I don't care about."

"Why?" Izuna snaps. "Why don't you care about yourself? Damn it! You are the most selfish person I have ever met! You think it makes you selfless to want no one to bother themselves with you? No, it makes you stupid! You're a damned idiot!" Izuna is seething with anger, his body shaking hard trying to contain it. Angry tears wet his eyes and his fists tremble at his side.

Itachi doesn't say anything. He doesn't know what to say, and even if he did, he knows that his brothers both don't want to hear it and won't like it any more than his silence. So he keeps his mouth shut. He just looks at his older brother, taking a moment to read the pain on his body and face and in his eyes. It's reminiscent to the moment Marume died. He can recall looking at his brother, angry tears in his eyes and shaking, wanting to reach out and punch the person closest to him, some way of trying to release the anger and pain in his body but not knowing how to let it out.

"How long has this been going on?" Madara asks, his voice completely flat, his dark eyes threatening. If Itachi lied about anything right at that moment, he's not sure how his eldest brother would react.

"I started to feel it after the war ended," Itachi says. "Maybe I felt it before but never noticed, I don't know. I just know that once the war was over was when I realized it was happening."

"Why didn't you say anything to me?" Madara asks.

"I didn't care," Itachi says and realizes as soon as the words left his mouth that it was the wrong thing to say - even if it was the truth.

Madara throws him to the ground and hovers over the top of him, hands filled with Itachi's shirt. Itachi's not going to lie, being thrown to the hard ground sent a throbbing pain through his body, but he didn't outwardly react, that would just fuel his brothers' rage even more. Hashirama calls out to him, yelling at him that he couldn't be rough with Itachi, not with his insides the way they were, but Madara wasn't listening.

"Why?" Madara screams at him, slamming his fist right next to Itachi's head, making him flinch. "Why don't you care? Why? Why? Why? Why? Why?" Dust is kicked up in his repeated punching of the ground making it harder for Itachi to be able to breath, but he doesn't say anything. He's too busy staring at his eldest brother's broken face. "How can you care so much about other's but not about yourself? Why?"

Itachi doesn't respond, he doesn't know what to say. He simply didn't, it was as simple as that. Some days, it felt easier to have never existed in the first place, but he wasn't the type of person to just end his life, he just didn't care much to live through it. It was just something that he was doing until it was over. He's not sure why he felt that way, just that he did.

"You are okay with me having to bury another baby brother?" Madara yells, glaring down at him with impossibly wide, black eyes. "You are okay with Izuna and I being alone in this world? You're okay with that?"

Itachi shakes his head. "No. I..."

"Don't care about your life, I know, I heard you," Madara growls, staring down at him through long, wet lashes. "You would rather die a slow, painful death than have a smidge of attention on you. I don't understand. I'll never understand. I want you. I want your life more than I want Marume's murders to pay!"

Itachi shakes his head more. "Don't say that. Marume's-"

"Dead, Itachi, he's dead," Madara says cruelly. "He's not going to come back, even if I slaughter the bastards that took him from us. I don't want to watch one brother wither away to nothing while we are trying to avenge the death of another brother that we might never to able to avenge. Who knows how many years it would take to do that, even if we managed to find them? What if you aren't even strong enough to help us, have you thought about that?"

No, admittedly. He hadn't thought about weakening. He was in pain, yes, he was dying too, but he wasn't weakening. Not really. Nothing too noticeable. At least, not yet. He hadn't thought about that. He had been so busy trying not to think about himself, that he hadn't considered that before he dies, he might be weak before then. He can't afford to be weak, though. He has to be strong so that he could find the person who killed Marume. He had to be there when they found the people who killed Marume, and make them pay.

Itachi didn't say it aloud, but the look on his face was enough for Madara to get it.

Madara's face is twisted in pain and he slowly pulls himself away, looking destroyed. His shoulders are slumped in defeat and his dark eyes are unbelievably sad. He turns away from them, heartbroken.

"Madara?" Itachi calls out to his eldest brother. Madara is so subdued right now. He's never seen Madara like this before. He looks so utterly defeated, like a man who has resigned himself to failure. It's alarming to see that look on his big brother's face. "Madara?"

Madara shakes his head slowly, unable to look at Itachi. "I can't deal with you right now. I can't with a clear head."

Itachi pushes himself to his feet, ignoring the throbbing in his stomach. "Aniki-"

Madara shakes his head again, quickly. "No, I can't. Leave me be." With that, Madara storms off, shoulder bowed deeply in defeat and pain. Izuna looks after him, wanting to follow after him, even taking a step in his direction, before turning to Itachi, mentally warring with something before stepping up to Itachi and wrapping his arms around Itachi, hugging him close.

The action is surprising, to say the least. They weren't very touchy feely with one another. At least not this way. A pat on the shoulder or a playful shove tended to be the extent of it, with the rare exception, so this was a very odd feeling. Itachi was in so much shock, he didn't have time to react to his brother's action until he was already pulling away, looking up at his older brother with large dark eyes.

Izuna looks sad. "I wish you would cherish your life even a smidge as much as we do." With that, Izuna takes off after Madara, leaving Itachi standing there with his arms hanging at his side. This wasn't how he wanted his birthday to go. Not that he cared too much for the day itself, but over the years his brothers always found a way to make him feel special enough whether he wanted to or not.

Maybe he's been taking their doting for granted.

"Come," Hashirama says, reaching out and touching his shoulder. "Let me take a look at you."

Itachi sits in the middle of Hashirama's neat bedroom with the top of his yukata pooled around his waist as Hashirama sits behind him, hands roaming over his pale back, getting a really good look at what's going on inside of Itachi. He has a scroll next to him that he's taking detailed notes of what he's seeing and how to go about treatment.

Itachi didn't want this. He didn't want the attention, but if he didn't at least get looked at, there would be a lot of people who wouldn't be talking to him. Not just both of his brothers. Hashirama's hands are large and warm against his back. It's strange because he's not big on people touching him so he's not used to the physical contact, especially from someone who isn't family.

Thankfully, Itachi doesn't have to focus on the hands on his back and can just focus on the little noises that Hashirama is making. His sighs of disbelief and worry, and the click of his tongue. He's too nice of a man to turn away form someone in need, but that doesn't mean he's happy about the situation in the slightest. If Itachi didn't need medical attention and Hashirama wasn't the only one who they trusted to look after him, Hashirama might be too upset to be with him right then too. But Hashirama was the only one who could look after him so he has no choice but to stay.

"Are you mad at me?" Itachi asks softly, after about ten minutes of listening to Hashirama mumbling to himself.

Hashirama's hands still on the center of his spine and his right shoulder. "Yes," Hashirama admits after a long silence, his hands start moving again. "I wish you would have said something. Both families have lost so much over the years, I thought that we were all done losing things."

Itachi looks over his shoulder at the older, brown haired man, wondering how to get him to understand how he feels. "Everyone has been worried about me since I was young. My parents, my brothers, they've always worried about me. I just didn't want people to worry about me anymore. I don't want people blowing things out of proportion for me anymore. I want to focus on Marume, and Kawarama."

"We can appreciate that," Hashirama says diplomatically. "But, as much pain as this brings me, my precious baby brother isn't here anymore. As much as I wish it wasn't true, it is. I happen to agree with Madara, no vengeance for one brother is worth losing another. I know that you feel like people have been babying you all your life, but I hate to break it to you, Itachi, you were the youngest of four brothers. You're the baby." Hashirama smiles faintly, with a touch of mirth.

Itachi appreciates him trying to lighten the mood, and goes with it. "I know, but I'm not a little boy anymore. I am sixteen years old. By clan standards, I am an adult."

"But by doting big brother standards, that's not going to happen," Hashirama says, grinning at him. "Ask Itama, if I could get away with speaking to him in a baby voice, I would."

Itachi actually laughs at that, looking forward again as his long, thin hair slides over his shoulder and onto his back, ticking his skin a bit. He shivers at the feeling. Maybe he should cut it? "I pity poor Itama. I would kill my brothers if either of them spoke to me like that."

Hashirama laughs as he gathers up Itachi's hair and pushes it over his shoulder again, his movements slow and purposefully. His fingers ghost over Itachi's - begrudgingly - thin shoulders, cause gooseflesh to appear. "I know, he's threatened me many times. I can sort of get away doing stuff like that as a joke with Itama, Tobirama would literally murder me just moments after the first sound left my lips. He's got no time for nonsense. He's too serious all the time. Where is my precious baby brother?"

Hashirama lets out a long, dramatic sigh, shaking his head and bring one of his hands onto Itachi's shoulder, pushing one side forward a bit, so that he would be able to see something in the light. He presses against something on Itachi's back, just below his right shoulder blade. His fingers wrap around Itachi's ribs while his thumb presses against the spot again. "Does that hurt?"

Itachi shakes his head. "No, why?"

"There is slight discoloration there, I wondered if maybe it was bruise but it's hard to tell in this light," Hashirama says. "Well, if it doesn't hurt you now, then I won't worry about it, but be honest with me if something starts to hurt."

"Yes, sir," Itachi says, turning his eyes back to the window that he's been looking out of since he got into this room.

"I mean it, Itachi," Hashirama says, warningly. "I won't be able to fix what's wrong with you if I don't know everything."

"Do you really think you will be able to fix me?" Itachi asks smoothly. He has no delusions, somehow he's always suspected that this sickness would kill him. It was just something that he knew. He wasn't afraid to die, but he was scared to leave his brothers behind with bitter feelings about themselves and their lives. They would hate themselves if they didn't do everything they could to try and save him. Itachi almost wished they hated him, then he could die without worrying. At least in that case, they would be happy that he was gone.

"I do," Hashirama says, assuredly. "Just give me some time. I'll have you better than ever in no time. Count on it."

Itachi wished that he could have that level of confidence, but was wondering if maybe he was just trying to cover his worry over not being able to fix what was wrong with Itachi. He appreciates the optimism, but he doesn't have that much faith. Somehow, since he was a child, Itachi never expect that he was going to live a long, full life. He was destined to die young. It was a feeling he didn't know how to explain to others, it was just something that he felt, that he knew in his heart.

Itachi bows his head a bit, pulling his shoulders in. Hashirama pulls back a bit, seeing the back part of Itachi's ribs and his spine pull at his skin, belying how sick he's becoming. He didn't have any appetite and was loosing weight because of it. Hopefully, now that Hashirama knows that there is something wrong, he's going to be able to help the younger boy in front of him.

"Madara," Itachi says, His older brother doesn't move, just stares out over the village from atop of the mountain. He's been looking for his eldest brother for hours after Hashirama let him go, telling him to come back the next morning so that they could start treatment. He had to take some time to think about what they needed to do. Itachi wasn't optimistic, but was willing to go along with it in order to somehow stabilize the relationship with everyone.

If Itachi doesn't attempt to get better, his brothers might never speak to him again, let alone look at him.

"Brother, you can't ignore me forever," Itachi says.

"It's not going to be forever," Madara says to the wind, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees. "It's just going to be until I die, because there is no way in hell my baby brother isn't going to outlive me."

Itachi doesn't respond to that, he just walks over to the edge and sits down next to his big brother, hoping that Madara had calmed down enough not to just shove him off the side of the cliff and fall to his death. Thankfully, when Madara looks over at him, his eyes were sad, not angry. So at least he's got that going for him. He can roll with that.

"You know I love you, right?" Itachi says, leaning forward and looking into his brother's eyes.

Madara squeezes his eyes shut tight for a moment, trying to find the words, before turning to look at Itachi with large, dark eyes. "And I you, brother. I was only given three brothers in this world. I already lost one of you. I don't want to lose anymore. I just want you to take care of yourself more. I want you to find a reason to keep living that isn't just to kill Marume's killers. I want you to be happy to be alive."

"I'm not unhappy," Itachi tells him. "I just wanted you to know that. It's nothing you and Izuna did. I suppose it's just how I'm wired. I have always been nothing but a burden to you and Izuna, and our family, since the day I lost my memory. Since the day I failed to save Marume. I didn't want to be a burden anymore. If I had it my way, I would quietly fade from existence without anyone knowing."

Madara shakes his head, a frown pulling on his lips. "I just can't understand that. Why would you want that?"

Itachi smiles thinly back at him. "I don't know. I just do. It's just how I feel. Is there no way for you to be able to understand that?"

Madara looks away, shaking his head again. "No. I don't think I can. I can never understand why someone would rather wither away to nothing, making his family suffer through watching him do just that, instead of trying to keep himself with those that love him more than anything. I can't understand that. I won't apologize for that."

Itachi also looks away. "I understand. I know that you want me to try and fight for my life, and for you and Izuna, I will try."

The muscles in Madara's jaws starts working, flexing and relaxing. That wasn't what he wanted to hear. He wanted Itachi to fight for his life, for himself. Not because others wanted him to, but so long as he was fighting, Madara was willing to let that be as it may. He doesn't like it, but he'll live with it for now. So long as Itachi starts taking better care of himself, then Madara will let it be. For now. Step one.

"You're going to get better," Madara says, nodding to himself. "Hashirama's going to fix you. I know he will." Itachi pulls his eyes away from his brother to look back out over their home. Today wasn't the way he wanted his birthday to be like, but the truth had to come out somehow, someday. He neatly folds his hands onto his lap, a strange feeling settling in his belly. It wasn't the painful throbbing any longer, but something else that unsettles him. Something he's not sure about yet.

That night, he dreams of Marume.