Post-Modern Prometheus

By TwinEnigma

Disclaimer: I do not own the Naruto series or characters. I am doing this because I'm in a Halloweeny mood.

Warnings: Multiple character deaths, violence, AU, desecration of the dead.

Itachi Uchiha, genius, was dying slowly. He was a doctor and chemist, gifted – the top of his class – and he knew the signs well. He'd treated enough patients to recognize the creeping malaise, pains of the head, slowly forming lesions and reddened, dimming eyes of the Great Imitator. He prepared tinctures and medicines from his own stock to treat the symptoms and hid his ailment as best as he was able, but it was only delaying the inevitable – he would die before long, likely insane, blind or crippled.

He lingered on in the city, despite repeated entreaties from his parents to return to their country home, citing study and duty to his patients as his reasons for staying. They were sad, of course, but they had his younger brother, Sasuke, to dote upon them. Sasuke would, undoubtedly, be the light that would allow his parents to survive their eldest son's eventual passing.

In this manner, Itachi was able to conceal his fading health for several months, until he was finally overcome by a terrible and gripping longing for the place of his birth and the faces of his beloved family. Their relief upon learning of his plans to join them was abundant in their letters, overflowing in every word upon the delicate pages. He packed his precious books and medicines, shipping his equipment on ahead of him. It was his plan that he should discreetly enlighten his father to his condition and spend out the rest of his scant time in study and reflection in the quiet of their country home.

Instead, Itachi arrived home to a tragedy. His young brother had been in an accident and now lay dead, his heart having simply stopped from the trauma of it. Little Sasuke – only five years his junior and a kind, delightful boy – had succumbed to death in a most terrible manner.

And there, on his brother's fresh grave, he vowed to find a way to undo this travesty, to bring his brother back.

Itachi poured himself into his books with abandon and, finally, in the edges of the margins between alchemy and chemistry, he'd discovered the key. He stole his brother's corpse from its earthy rest in the darkest hours of the night and smuggled it into his laboratory. It was here that the extent of the tragedy was revealed to him – his brother's hands had been mangled, his eyes were already devoured by the worms, and his once-fine skin now was nearly translucent. He whispered assurances to his brother's limp form and gently stroked the hair that was so like his own. He would fix everything.

Cousin Shisui was the first contribution to Itachi's cause. He had come at the insistence of Itachi's father, who was concerned for his grieving eldest child. Shisui had been horrified, but Itachi was most insistent and managed to at last impress upon him the seriousness of his mission. Shisui's heart replaced the one that had failed little Sasuke and his hands replaced the twisted ruins of Sasuke's own.

His father became the second contribution, his lungs and liver in fine condition and perfectly suited. He, too, had expressed a grievance with the manner of Itachi's plan, but that was resolved speedily and his cooperation was soon assured. His mother followed shortly thereafter, her eyes filling the empty sockets of Sasuke's face with perfect accuracy.

Itachi worked diligently in his preparations. Even so, his hands shook and his eyesight faded in and out, making his sutures large and clumsy in places. Chemicals sloshed across the laboratory and over the discarded forms of his helpful assistants, spilling across metal wires and cables connected to the lightning-gathering apparatus he'd constructed.

The sky spit violence and crashed down, descending into the room with white-hot fury. When the brightness receded, the room was half-ablaze, sparks showering from shattered equipment. The room itself smelled strongly of burnt hair and singed flesh, thin wisps of smoke curling off Sasuke's body.

Itachi coughed, blood dribbling down his chin, and staggered over, tearing the wires from his brother's body. The ear trumpet wobbled in his hands as he placed it over the sutures on his brother's chest and leaned in to listen.

There was nothing.

He howled, striking his brother's chest with his fist again and again, and violently cast aside his equipment, scattering bloodied scalpels across the floor. Then, slowly, he sunk to the floor, sobbing.

The corpse's fingers twitched and slowly curled.

Itachi didn't register the movement, not until he heard the grating, scratchy voice call out to him.

"Brother?"

He moved faster than he had ever moved before, darting to the table, and was rewarded with his brother's dark, watery eyes blinking at him, lips parted in a strange expression. "It's all right, Sasuke," he said, trembling as he scrambled to remove the restraints. "I fixed you up. Everything's all right now."

"Brother?" Sasuke said, allowing himself to be moved into a sitting position. He raised his arms slightly and again said: "Brother?"

Itachi swiftly gathered him into a hug. "Yes, little brother. It's me, Itachi."

Sasuke tightened his arms around him in return. It soon became constricting, painfully so, and Itachi was dimly aware that he was being crushed, smothered to death in his little brother's embrace.

He smiled and the fire consumed everything.

AN: Paging Dr. Frankenstein.

This idea had a very decidedly Frankenstein-feel from the start and I think I carried it over into the text pretty well. Itachi's illness - "The Great Imitator" - in this case happens to be syphilis, which can deteriorate eyesight and lead to eventual insanity and death if not treated.

You can read the end two ways - Itachi succeeded and Sasuke kills him unwittingly or Itachi is insane and hallucinates his success as he suffocates in the fire.