Kindling

Tobirama swore desperately, falling to his knees next to Madara on the asphalt, ignoring the painful bite through his torn jeans. Madara was unconscious already and even as Tobirama set the phone on speaker and dropped it next to Madara he knew he was running out of time; fuck it had been a long time since Tobirama had done CPR on someone, he had to hope was that even if half remembered and out of date it would still be enough to save the older man. Madara probably would rather die than have Tobirama touch him after what had happened but there was no way the albino was going to let the Uchiha die; no matter how bad things had been at the end he had never stopped loving Madara (was never going to, the words along the line of his spine were a promise of that). Over the beat of his pounding heart Tobirama heard Madara’s ribs creak and tried to ignore it, he knew CPR done right broke ribs but the idea of feeling Madara’s bones snap under his hands made him feel sick; the phone cracked and a sharp voice echoed out “An ambulance is on the way, just hold on” the 911 operator said and Tobirama gasped, throwing his weight behind the chest compressions and gagging as he felt the older man’s ribs give out under the pressure, bile bitter on his tongue.

“Are you there?” the operator asked and Tobirama struggled to speak around the tightness in his throat “Yeah” he gasped “his ribs just broke” he told the woman on the other end of the phone wetly “Good, you’re doing a good job, just keep it up a bit longer” she said soothingly and Tobirama forced himself to focus on her voice and his heartbeat and not how still Madara was or how his chest felt (god humans weren’t supposed to be squishy like this). The sound of sirens came from a long way away but it was the sudden appearance of hands next his and a hand on his shoulder that jarred him out of his focus “Hey, it’s ok, we got him now” the paramedic said, pulling firmly until Tobirama fell back, scrambling away to give them enough space to work. They were here, Madara would be ok, it was going to be ok. He looked though blurry eyes at the paramedic, glancing around for the police he knew would be near. He needed to leave. He didn’t know anything useful, he needed to leave before one of the officers recognized him (he didn’t want to leave Madara, didn’t want to stand up, wanted to curl in a corner and try to calm down).

Shaking Tobirama pushed himself to his feet, leaning against the dirty wall behind him and making sure he was unwatched (he might be stupid pale but he had long experience in making himself unnoticeable) before jumping and catching the bottom of the fire escape, pulling himself up in a smooth motion (not to fast, that would attract attention, fast movements meant something trying not to be seen, slow on the other hand…what fleeing person would move slowly?) and fading back into the shadow, taking one last look at Madara as he was loaded into the ambulance and the doors were shut behind him (doors between Tobirama and Madara were always shut); Madara would probably survive, his Geas would save him (it had to, Tobirama wouldn’t live in a world where it didn’t) and that was what mattered. It was time for Tobirama to get out of here, get as far away as he could; someone would give the description of what he looked like and then the entire Vow Core would be after him, every Uchiha capable of serving and in possession of a Geas after his blood – just like they had been five years ago.

Madara woke slowly, his chest a dull ache on the other side of the pain killers. He blinked at the blurry ceiling, distantly confused; he wasn’t dead? He should be dead. He was sure he should be dead. The Gold Brother had slammed his fist into Madara’s chest, he was sure of it and that was a death sentence – after all that was the only reason that the Gold Brother had left him dying on the ground, he had known that Madara couldn’t survive that strike (Madara knew Madara couldn’t survive that strike, Geas helped healing or not). “-ara? Madara? Brother?” Izuna’s voice swam in his ears and he struggled to focus, turning his head with difficulty to look at his baby brother; “’zuna?” Madara rasped and Izuna laughed wetly. “Hey stupid” He sniffed “you’ve been out for a week, Kuro was here yesterday but she was called away when you stabilized” Madara blinked slowly at his brother (Izuna was far to good at telling Madara what he needed to hear when he woke up in the hospital, they had to much practice with this) trying to focus on Izuna’s face, looking for the guilt he knew would be there.

Izuna had never stopped feeling guilty, not after the accident that left him with a cane and prosthetic and unable to serve the Vow Core in the streets (not after he had left Madara with a Geas strained to the limit – almost but not quite violated and vulnerable for it ((Tobira))) and every time Madara got hurt Izuna beat himself up for months. “Not on you” Madara slurred, fuck this hurt, this was probably the worst shape he had been in in years but…”How ‘m I not dead?” Izuna bit his lip “I don’t know, someone found you and started CPR and they knew what they were doing, busted your ribs and everything” Madara’s eyebrows went up sluggishly, someone strong enough to break Uchiha bones was rare “Still shouldn’ have been ‘nough” he said with a sluggish tongue. Izuna nodded, “I know” he hesitated “your Geas…” Madara frowned, reaching for the power and feeling the mark light in his eye as he did so; Izuna was right, there was something different, something…it didn’t feel as strained as it used too and the stress on his body was much less. “What?” his head hurt, his Geas hadn’t been right ever since he – Tobira – but now it felt, well, not fixed or whole but better than it had in five years.

Izuna touched his shoulder, bringing his attention to his brother and the Geas in Izuna’s eyes (he was lucky his Geas was versatile enough to be useful in a support position in the Vow Core, Madara’s had only ever been good for attacking- not true, once there had been something else- no.- and he would be no good in support) as the younger brother checked over Madara and the lines of power in his bones and blood; “You should be able to get out on here in a week and be able to come in, maybe work in Central for a week or two, before you can go back out. It depends on what your Geas does.” Izuna said. Madara grimaced, weeks on the sidelines, fuck he hated that. But it was better than it could have been and frankly after the last few years he was just grateful it would take as little time as it would; his impatience had been tempered over the years (too little too late, Tobira-) and he would bear this with as much as he could. “Get out of here Izu” he said, Izuna bit his lip but under Madara’s steady stare his shoulders sagged and he sighed, nodding quietly to the ground; six years ago- hell four years ago- Izuna would never have listened so easily but, ha, things changed, people changed and Madara was just glad their relationship was as good as it was, there had been a time when he couldn’t even look at his brother. Forgiveness had always been hard for Madara and though he had forgiven Izuna as much as he would ever be able to he would never be able to forgive himself (things would never have gone that far if Madara had been a bit more patient, a bit less hotheaded, if Madara had done things a bit better maybe…ah well, regrets were an old companion).