A/N: This is based a few years after the fight between Sasuke and Itachi. Sasuke decides to return to Konoha soon after he finds out the truth about his brother rather than seeking any more revenge. Itachi managed to survive, spending years being treated for his illness, which he eventually overcomes.

Summary: Sasuke is so sure that the figure of his brother standing in his home is a figment of his imagination. Is this real? Or is it just one of his ridiculously detailed hallucinations again?

Warnings: Itachi/Sasuke. Incest. Uchihacest.

"You're...back." Sasuke starts for a moment but any other words he wanted to say catch in his throat. He grips the handle of his katana in reflex but hastily drops his appendage by his side once again. In his other hand is a plastic bag full of groceries from his latest shop and he clenches it hard as he shuffles through the sitting room towards his small kitchen, taking careful steps around the apparition. Even after all this time he can't bring himself to step through it.

A scarcely audible sigh leaves his lips as he places the bag of food on the table. Sort out groceries, prepare dinner, keep going. Ignore it. Pretend it isn't there. Breathe. It isn't there.

"Otouto?" It sounds more like Itachi every time. More than it ever used to. Sasuke swallows the lump in his throat. His hands shake as he slices the freshly bought vegetables for dinner. He hasn't forgotten his voice, then. Not yet. Would he ever? How could he ever erase the last moments with his aniki from his mind? The same film strip behind his eyes, playing over and over again every time he closed them. He didn't need the sharingan to memorize every detail of their closing moments together.

"It's been a long time, otouto." He doesn't look up from chopping the vegetables. Instead, he busies himself with scraping the slices into a wok to fry. He can discern the apparition in the smooth metal objects; the kettle, the saucepans that hang on the wall, the shiny metal handles of the cupboards. It's been a while since he's seen his brother in anything but the Akatsuki cloak or the dreary grey clothing underneath it. This time he's clad in the typical Uchiha garments - clothing that Sasuke has long since dressed in for reasons he doesn't like to divulge - the dark high collared shirt with the clans symbol embedded on the back. Awfully similar clothing that the two of them used to wear before the massacre. When Sasuke and Itachi shared a life together. A life together. Sasuke scrunches his eyes up in a futile attempt to stop them from seeing the apparition that dared insult his brothers memory by mimicking him. It doesn't work, of course.

"You always show up this time of year, I can't say I'm surprised by your visit today." The anniversary. It's so close, only two days, and Sasuke can almost feel the rain on his skin and smell the blood in the air. It's suffocating and it takes all of his willpower to keep breathing with the dense weight on his chest. He's forever telling himself that he'll stop counting the days - not this year, he tells himself, I won't do it this year - but he always disappoints.

"Sasuke-"

"Sakura wants me to take some form of medication." Talking to himself; not exactly an outstanding declaration of sanity. But when was the last time he'd truly deemed himself sane? Not for a long time. "She says that everything will be ok when I stop seeing you at every turn I take. That I'll-" move on. He wants to say it but he catches the words before they're uttered into the chilly air of his apartment. For a time he thought that she was jealous but he sees now that she just worried for him. She was forever concerned for him and he thought that maybe he should just ease her distress for once and take the medication. He just couldn't bear the thought of never seeing Itachi again. The fear of not being able to recall every detail of his physical being. The sound of his voice. He feels his chest tighten at the very thought.

An anti-psychotic pill? Is it so terrible to see things that aren't actually there? To wish that they were? He was forever wishing and never hoping because his hope was non existent now. He'd made sure of that with his own bloodied hands.

Still can't look at him. From small glances in the reflections around him he sees that Itachi looks older than he remembers. Sasuke's scared, almost certain, that if he were to turn around and face the man he so craved, that he will be gone. Vanish into thin air as if he were never there in the first place. Which was true in a way, because Itachi was never there yet he was always there. Always with Sasuke. He couldn't get rid of him even if he wanted to. Sees him in his own reflection.

He needs to see him, needs to hear his voice just like he needs the air to breath, just like he needs food to sustain him. Without Itachi what would become of him then? Itachi was his life, is his life and forever will be his life until his last breath. Sasuke wants this to last, can't bear to lose him again. So he doesn't look round, doesn't face him.

It takes him a moment to realize that he'd served his own dinner and was currently sat at the the small, bare table in the kitchen. He thumbs at the unseparated chopsticks laying next to the bowl, considering his next words. "I think about you a lot, you know." He doesn't declare that he's moved to furthest part of the village away from the Uchiha compound. He doesn't mention that just being in the village itself brings back way too many memories for his liking. The Hokage monument, the academy, the small shops and the training grounds. It's overwhelming. It's been so long that no one remembers Sasuke Uchiha: avenger, rouge nin. That's a life long gone, one that went with the death of his brother. "I'm normal now...now that you're gone. I have plenty to be grateful for, yet I'm still so unsatisfied. I think this life would be better suited for you. Father always said you were the perfect one." A bitter laugh. More bitter than he'd intended it to be. His poor attempt at a joke but now his voice just sounds rough around the edges. "I wish I'd taken your place."

He knows that Sakura and Naruto will be around within the hour. They always are without fail. They enjoy keeping him company they say. They worry for him when he becomes so reserved. Sasuke tells himself that he needs to get rid of the ghost standing in his kitchen before they see him like this.

"Sasuke-"

"Why are you being so insistent?!" He shouts, his breathing hard as he pushes his bowl away. He hasn't touched his dinner. It's probably cold by now.

"I miss you so much." His voice finally cracks and he barely holds back a pained sob. His hand clutches at his chest, gripping the soft material that hangs above his heart. It feels like it's being squeezed from the inside, something akin to a raging beast clawing at his flesh, tearing him up behind his rib cage.

He's silent then, leaning over the table in a slumped position, his hand still clasped by his chest. All he can hear is the incessant ticking of a clock and Itachi's soft breathing. In and out, it's soothing and so, so familiar to Sasukes ears.

He stiffens. No. Itachi can't breathe any more, he's dead. An apparition. A ghost standing in Sasukes kitchen. Ghosts don't breathe. He sinks his teeth into the flesh of his lower lip until it bleeds if only to remind himself of reality. It stings and he gives a small sigh at the feeling. Good.

Standing, he composes himself, wiping stray tears from his eyes and licking up drops of crimson from his lip. He's careful to avoid looking at the apparition as he scrapes his cold food into the bin and begins to wash the bowl in hot, soapy water. Looking at his brothers reflection again, longer this time, he sees that Itachi, other than older, is also skinnier, his clothing almost hanging off of his thin frame and his features, more gaunt than Sasuke recollects. Perhaps it's his sick imagination telling him that the very image of his brother is rotting even within his mind. He needs to leave, he thinks as he glances at the clock. He's too old for imaginary friends now.

Sasuke's about to turn around and tell him to leave him alone. That he's had enough emotional torment for one day. That he'll probably be haunted by him again tomorrow, and the next day and the day after. If he's lucky. That is until he hears the padding of footsteps against the wooden floor and the soft weight of a hand on his shoulder. The warmth of it radiates through the thin material of his shirt.

He jumps, managing to slice his hand on the kitchen knife he's been scrubbing. A gasp as he sees the red dripping into soapy water but the pain is overshadowed by the pressure on his shoulder. The gentle squeeze. Apologetic. Reassuring. Comforting. Friendly. Loving. So many words to describe the simple action.

He spins around and looks directly into his brothers face for the first time since that fateful day.

"Forgive me Sasuke." And it's so much like déjàvu that Sasuke is glad for the cut on his palm to reassure him that this is anything but a dream.

Yet, It can't be real. It's so overwhelming and his mind is in haywire. The illusion, the ghost had never lasted this long in the past, had never seemed so real, had never smelt so much like his aniki before, had never touched him before.

There's such a sudden onslaught of emotions and Sasuke craves to touch his brother. He reaches out with his unhurt hand, fingertips tracing a soft cheek before his brothers face is cupped in his palm. He's trembling all over, knees weak, everything weak and still Itachi is clutching his shoulder, his caring, gentle eyes staring into Sasukes own and he's yet to disappear.

Itachi doesn't disappear. Instead two strong arms wrap around Sasukes body, clutching him close like Itachi is afraid his little brother will run away. Sasuke can barely breathe, is scared to breathe in case this is all an illusion and his world will once again shatter around him. The sound of blood rushes in his ears and his heart pounds away behind his rib cage. Finally his mind allows his body to respond and he's bringing his own arms to wrap around Itachis thin but solid (so unexpected, so unbelievable) body. His fingers tangle in the ponytail that cascades down between Itachis shoulder blades and it seems so real, as if it's the most accurately sculpted daydream. Sasuke thinks that if this is a genjutsu, he prays it never ends.

Nothing else matters to him in this moment of time. He buries his face in Itachis neck and breathes the familiar, comforting, reassuring scent that is his older brother. Sasuke soaks in the memories that this familiarity, that the feel of his brothers body brings and he's breathing heavily now, open-mouthed, placing small kisses and nips along the bottom of the elders jaw. Lips against his skin just below his ear, nuzzling into the warmth of his brothers skin. His imagination really had outdone itself this time. He can feel warm breath against his own ear, panting, a deep husky groan that would be barely audible if they were not within such close proximity of each other. Sasukes body responds like any other mans would, almost tempted to take up the opportunity to act upon it, yet he chooses to ignore it instead. He's still terrified that if he moves Itachi will disappear. It doesn't stop him from pressing even closer to his brother though.

"Sasuke," Itachi says softly, understanding laced his tone. "I'm here for you now." Arms tighten around the youngers body. His knees are weak and it's so much effort for him to remain standing, his fists clutching his brothers shirt for dear life, never wanting to let go. It doesn't add up to Sasuke. The warmth of the body he's clinging to. The words, the weight of the others touch. It's never been like this before. Not this detailed. Maybe his decent into madness had finally torn his mind apart.

"Sasuke, can you hear me?" The warm body holding him starts to pull away. Sasuke panics for a moment and frantically pulls him closer, now gripping the collar of Itachis shirt with shaking fingers. Don't leave me. Don't leave. He wants to scream it but his voice won't work. "I'm here, otouto. I won't leave you any more."

"You're not. And you will. You always leave." His voice breaks on the last word. His body and mind are at war. He feels physical pain due to the anticipation of loss. He doesn't think that he can bear the loss again not after such a vivid hallucination of his brother. But somehow his pain is eased with the pressure of the other body against his own. He knows he'll be lost when this dream is eventually over.

"I'm here, I'm real. I went through hell to be by your side once again. You're everything to me, Sasuke." Hearing his name pass those lips shatters something. The body holding him loses its grip but Sasukes grip is strong and he knows he should be pushing rather than pulling the ghost towards him. "I'm not going anywhere, I won't leave." A promise from such a familiar voice. A lie. How many times had Itachi lied to him before? He never thought this man would ever stop lying to him. "Look at me, otouto."

His eyes. It's hard to believe that he's looking at thin air. He doesn't want to believe that he is. Sasuke lets himself succumb to his instincts and presses up with a searching mouth, fully embracing the comfort of the illusion.

He doesn't expect to feel warm lips press against his own - ones that are just as desperate - yet he unmistakably feels them. Nothing prepared him for this. The warmth. The need. The love. All here, in the present. Here, now. Not a dream. Not an illusion.

But how can it be? It's not possible. He saw his aniki die right in front of him. It was Sasukes fault.

"Sasuke." A whispered repetition of his name, breath ghosting across his cheeks, his jaw, his neck. With a heavy chest, the younger wheezes each breath and his hands slacken their hold on the mans collar only slightly. Any minute now, he thinks. Any minute he'll wake up and this will all be over. There's a selfish urge to keep; to protect his minds illusion no matter the cost. He must keep his brother at all costs. He would sacrifice everything - his sanity, his reputation, even his life - to just stay in this moment for a lifetime. It would all be worth it. "Sasuke." No harsh words or accusations. Just his name on those tantalizing lips, his name that hadn't passed those lips in the years that they'd been apart. His name said as if the very word itself had piled up all this time. He's pressed so close to his aniki - can feel every breath between them- but he still feels it's not enough - it'll never be enough. But it's never been like this before. It has to be real. It has to be.

"Itachi." Sasuke swallows the last of his doubt, uncontrollable shaking racks his body. He sobs, buckling forward with the sheer pain of everything he'd bottled up over the years, all this time he'd had to remain strong. But here and now he didn't have to. Not when he was with his brother. His brother had always seen through his insecurities and had seen Sasuke for who he truly was. Hows and whys cloud his mind, unending curses that he wants to release on his brother. He wants to punch him so hard, wants to punch him over and over again until his hand hurts. All the grief Itachi had put him through, but this was nothing different, Itachi had been doing this to him for a long time, he thinks. Yes, he wants to scream and curse and hurt him but above all, all he wants is to cling to him, hug him, kiss him, force him to never leave ever again. Such a brilliant, intelligent, insufferable bastard, was his brother. But still. He wraps his arms around Itachis waist and tugs him closer. Rests his head on his shoulder with a content sigh as he calms from his earlier outburst. Right now is all that matters. They hold each other in each others arms. It's more than either of them could have ever asked for. They're a tightly-knit mass in the middle of the kitchen, all limbs and shuddering breath. "Itachi?" There's no question more important to Sasuke right now.

"I'm still here, otouto. I'm here, I'm not leaving this time." Strong arms tighten around Sasukes body minutely. And although Itachi had lied to him a substantial number of times in the past, just this one time, Sasuke believes every word entirely.

"I love you."