Chapter Text
I thought it was over.
The tip of his cigarette glowed briefly in the darkness as he inhaled. Almost down to the filter. The remains of an envelope lay scattered across the concrete. The letter itself he held clutched in a sweaty fist. One look at the return address and he knew he couldn’t bring the damn thing into his apartment.
Konoha Correctional Facility.
Why now, after all these years?
He threw the butt down and ground it out with his heel.
The deaths, the trial, the ensuing media circus; he’d been young enough then to avoid the full brunt of the situation, managed to corral it all away into a tiny back corner of his mind so he could focus on what really mattered- rebuilding the family name along with the business. Itachi could rot in jail for the rest of his life for all he cared. He deserved worse, after what he’d done.
And he’ll get it soon, he reminded himself. Isn’t that what this is all about? The execution, one last request…
“Fuck!” He whispered into the pallid glare of a streetlight.
Dearest brother, the letter began, written with slightly cramped but impeccable penmanship. That was as far as he ever got before the gorge rose in his throat and he could feel a pressure building right in the center of his forehead.
Stop it. Just put it down. Hell, burn the damn thing and walk away. You don’t owe him anything.
Still, his fingers refused to move; the same paralysis he’d felt that night, and most nights since whenever he thought too hard about Itachi. His smile haunted him more than his parents’ empty stares.
I need a drink.
As if attached by invisible spider-silk, the letter stayed at his fingertips as he moved through spartan rooms. Kitchen. Top of the refrigerator. It hadn’t been hard to find a gas station that didn’t bother carding. Especially if he happened to slip the cashier an extra twenty.
Putting my inheritance to good use, he thought bitterly as the burn hit his throat, raw as fire.
I will not cry.
Three shots later, he tried to read it again.
I know you might never forgive me, and that’s alright…. Things I have to explain… Meet in person… His eyes skipped to the bottom of the page.
I will love you always.
After that, he drank straight from the bottle, which grew lighter with every swallow. Drank until he couldn’t see, staggering out into the bathroom with half-formed curses falling from his lips.
Can’t get away.
The medicine cabinet. Nothing really strong, but enough aspirin would do the trick. About ¾ of a bottle left. It’d have to do.
He washed the pills down with the last of the booze, and the walls started to stretch and constrict around him like a giant artery.
Have to get out.
Somehow he was on the street, the stars whirling overhead in a dizzying kaleidoscope. Then concrete, rough against his cheek. He closed his eyes, feeling vaguely seasick.
Dimly, he registered that the letter was still in his back pocket, hovering over him like a bad dream.
You don’t have power over me anymore, he thought with some measure of satisfaction, until his stomach heaved and his vision narrowed to grey slits then nothing at all.
Itachi’s face hovered in front of him, undulating wave-like behind closed eyelids.
“Why, Sasuke?” His lips weren’t moving but his voice reverberated deep inside Sasuke’s bones.
You know why.
Itachi continued to stare, unblinking.
“What do you want from me?!” The words tasted like bile.
His older brother just smiled sadly, the image growing larger, brighter until all he could see was a glaring white. Arms reached out on all sides, clamping down on his limbs.
“Let me go you bastard!”
“Hold his head.” A voice, not Itachi’s, far away and muffled as if the speaker were underwater.
A stab of pain in his right arm.
Silence.
The little man sitting across from him was such a caricature of a psychiatrist that he would’ve laughed if he had the energy; golden pince-nez spectacle, sharply parted hair, tweedy brown suit. All that was missing was a German accent and a couch.
“How are you feeling today, Sasuke?”
He resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Barely.
“Fine.”
“That’s not how most people feel after-”
“I wasn’t trying to kill myself,” He spat, twisting the hospital bracelet that encircled a wrist that was a bit paler and skinnier than it had been a few days before. They’d removed the handcuffs for now, at least.
“The doctors tell me you took nearly a hundred pills and washed them down with a significant quantity of alcohol.”
“I had a really bad headache.” This time he did laugh; a grating, hollow sound. His throat was still sore from the lavage, activated charcoal lurking in-between his teeth.
Doctor Whoever frowned slightly, then smoothed his brow to hide it as he scribbled some notes on a pad.
“Would you care to tell me about the contents of the letter you were found with?”
Like you didn’t fucking read it already.
“No.”
Sasuke turned to stare out the window. The sky was a pure sort of blue, cloudless.
“And if you were to get another one of these ‘headaches’ would you try and repeat the process?”
A crow landed on the windowsill, tilted his head and watched with bright, curious eyes. The scratch-scratching of the doctor’s pen sent an unpleasant tingle up his spine.
“Considering your… family history,” the doctor coughed delicately, “I’d like to recommend intensive inpatient treatment.” A pause. One that Sasuke had no desire to interrupt. “There’s a bed open at a nearby facility. We could get you settled in by this afternoon. It’s a daunting prospect, but you can get better.”
From what? A shitty childhood and Death Row inmate for a brother?
Sasuke snorted. “I’m medically emancipated. You can’t act like I’m a ward of the state or something and force me in because I’m not eighteen yet.” He kept his gaze fixed firmly on the parking garage.
“But we are allowed to hold patients who present a danger to themselves or others,” the doctor replied evenly.
Shit.
“I had hoped that you would admit yourself voluntarily but-”
“I TOLD you I wasn’t trying to kill myself!”
“Then will you agree to sign a no-suicide contract?” A sheet of paper waved under his nose.
He bristled, shoving it aside. “That’s idiotic. What if I just lie? Nobody’d know. You wouldn’t be able to stop me until it’s too late.”
The doctor stood with a sympathetic shake of his downy head. “I thought you might say something like that. I hope you understand we’re trying to help you here.” He left, leaving the door wide open behind him.
Sasuke lay back in bed with a heavy thump.
Stupid.
Riding in the ambulance was absolutely humiliating. Sitting on a gurney like an invalid under the watchful eye of a paramedic who had an annoying habit of whistling fragments of different songs through his teeth. At least the last time he’d been more or less unconscious.
Neither he nor the paramedic made any attempt at small talk, and Sasuke spent the ride examining the drawers packed with IV tubing, syringes, rolls of bandages, and a compact little defibrillator.
Eventually, they rolled up next to a sign that read “Admittance” with an arrow pointing down a tree-lined path leading to a squat brick building. As they drew closer, Sasuke noticed that the windows on the upper floors were barred.
Welcome to the loony bin.
The paramedic helped him gather his pathetic collection of possessions; toothbrush, comb, a spare shirt, pants, and change of underwear. His own clothes had been deemed too soiled to return. They’d also confiscated his cigarettes, much to his annoyance. He had no idea what happened to the letter and told himself he didn’t care.
Wasn’t like I was going to read it. Whatever Itachi wanted to say is irrelevant. He’s going to die and then it’ll over for good. No more skeletons in the closet.
The admissions procedure was long and boring; a tired nurse asking questions he didn’t feel like answering while a security guard stood outside the door processing his meager possessions.
“On a scale of one to ten, with ten being the worst, how would you rate your anxiety right now?”
“I’m not anxious.” Sweat was beginning to bead under his arms, but the room was awfully warm for a day in mid-September.
“Do you ever wish that you could go to sleep and never wake up?”
Who doesn’t?
Sasuke shrugged his shoulders.
And on and on about mood swings (no), street drugs (definitely not), depression (well everyone else seems to think so), until he was ready to bash his head against the wall just to get a few minutes’ peace.
“Do you drink?”
“I’m underage.”
The nurse gave him an “oh please” look and not-so-subtly checked her watch.
“Only enough to get to sleep,” Sasuke grumbled, then instantly regretted it when she raised an eyebrow. He cursed himself for letting his guard down.
Don’t let them get inside your head. You’ve managed fine on your own for this long. Just focus on meeting whatever their standard for “normal” is so you can get out of here.
“And how much is that?”
“Not that much. Maybe one or two drinks?” It’s hard to tell when you don’t use a glass.
“Of what?”
“Whatever I can get.” Preferably hard liquor. Top-shelf is worth the price tag and I’ve got an inheritance to burn.
The nurse’s expression softened from skepticism to something that resembled concern.
“We just need to know so that we can anticipate any detox and get you medication to make you more comfortable. Trust me, we’ve heard it all around here- I doubt anything you say could surprise us at his point.”
Remember the news stories about ten years back? An entire family wiped out by their teenage son? Only one survivor? Yeah.
“I’m fine.” But as soon as he said that, he felt a pressure start to squeeze at his temples.
Three days. One of which I was mostly unconscious.
“Could I have a glass of water?”
“Sure,” The nurse smiled. “I can get that for you, and then we’ll have a quick tour of the place and make sure you’re settled into your room. Sound good?”
Sasuke declined to answer.
I can beat this on my own. Itachi would never- He put the brakes on that thought because it hurt to know that, after all these years and everything he’d done, Itachi’s perfect golden-boy façade still hung over him like an oppressive shadow.
The plastic cup trembled slightly in his hand as the nurse led him out of the intake room and down a long, bland corridor filled with offices. This gave way to a rather narrow staircase that lead up to the ward itself two floors higher.
Key-card access only, Sasuke noted as the nurse swiped her badge. They entered a circular day room dominated by the nurse’s station in the center, presumably so that someone was keeping an eye on the patients at all times.
“Those hallways are patient rooms,” the nurse explained, pointing at one on either side of the nurse’s station. “One for boy, one for girls. This here’s the rec room,” she gestured to the space around them- A sad little bookcase, a stack of battered board games, a long table pushed off to one side, and a cluster of chairs and a sofa around a TV.
Two girls who’d been lounging turned around at the sound of her voice, peeking over the back of the couch. One was blue-eyed and boney, the other had hair dyed a violent shade of bubblegum pink. Blondie gave him an appreciative once-over and whispered something to her friend, who blushed even darker then her hair. They started giggling and quickly ducked out of sight.
Weird.
The nurse didn’t notice, or else chose to ignore them.
“The dining room is to your right. Attendance at mealtimes is mandatory- We get a lot of people with eating disorders here, and the rules apply to everyone regardless of their diagnosis,” She added when he opened his mouth to protest. “Besides, it’s a good way to meet people.”
I’m not here to make friends.
She pushed him gently towards the corridor on the left side of the nurses’ station. Sasuke had to make a conscious effort not to flinch away.
Everyone gets a different array of therapies depending on their needs. You’ll meet with someone tomorrow to help figure that out. For now, let’s get you settled in!”
They stopped in front of room 318. It didn’t even have a door to push open, but Sasuke hesitated outside all the same. The nurse looked at him expectantly.
“The security guard already brought up your things. If you need any help, have any more questions, or problems with your roommate, just let me know.”
He nodded, with no intention of doing any such thing.
Wait did she just-
But the nurse had vanished like smoke.
“Heyyyyyy newbie!” A grating voice called from inside.
Oh hell no.