The Uchiha's\\ Sasuke xreader // Itachi xreader

Welcome home

It had been a couple of months since I regained consciousness in the hospital, with Sasuke faithfully by my side and a large portion of my memory seemingly erased. The events of the past few months were a blurry haze in my mind, likely a result of the amnesia I suffered during my coma. I could vaguely recall the sensation of falling from a cliff. Still, the circumstances leading up to that moment and how I managed to escape from Itachi remained a complete mystery. Examining my bruised and chipped nails, I speculated that they must have been damaged during my desperate attempt to halt my descent down the cliff. A surge of tension gripped me as the memory of that terrifying ordeal resurfaced in my mind.

I was slipping, and my nails were digging into the rocks, my fingers hurt so much, I was crying, my tears stinging my eyes and mixing with the blood on my face. The rocks tore at my flesh as I cascaded down the mountainside into a straight free fall. The only thing that saved my life was the trees and vines as I plummeted to what I thought was my death. I hit branch after branch, vines wrapping around my body like snakes, stopping my body from going any further, but it was not enough to hold me. My weight pulled them out of the mountainside, and I kept falling. My body felt like it was being ripped apart, my skin being torn open by the tree. I screamed as a vine ripped over my head, slicing into my forehead; a warm feeling of blood trickled down my face; the pain was unbearable, like a thousand knives being stabbed into me. I could see the grown rushing towards me. "This is it..." I thought, my body bracing itself for the final impact. I smacked on the last branch, a vine tearing into my flesh. I descended, my vision blackening, and finally, everything was gone, and all that was left was a peaceful quiet.

"Baby, are you okay," the voice is Sasuke's, but when I turn to look at him, I can't help but notice the frightening resemblance to Itachi. I shift my head to get a better look at Sasuke, my eyes narrowing in suspicion. Sasuke's hair is much shorter than the last I saw him. He is wearing a dark grey shirt that exposes part of his chest, a waist covering, and a purple rope tied around it with black pants. "(F/N).." Sasuke says and moves to grab my hand, but I pull it away, still staring at him. He has the same aura as his brother, dark and looming, a darkness hidden beneath his cold eyes. His purple chakra surrounded him like a fire, hot and dangerous, threatening to burn those who get too close.

"I'm sorry," I murmur, my hand hesitantly reaching out in a futile attempt to bridge the growing distance between us. Guilt gnaws at me for pulling away, but I can't reveal the reason for my sudden retreat. "I don't know what came over me," I fabricate, unwilling to let Sasuke see the haunting image that flashed before my eyes. "It's okay," he replies, his voice strained and Sasuke's expression inscrutable, yet a fleeting pang of hurt flickers across his eyes. "I'm sorry," I repeat, my voice barely above a whisper, overwhelmed with remorse for my unkind behavior. Despite his unwavering support during the ordeal, I can't shake the feeling that I'm failing him.

"Baby, don't worry about my feelings; I'm a big boy; I can handle it," he reassured me, his smile showing genuine concern this time. His fingers gently traced the scars on my arms as I averted my gaze, feeling a mix of embarrassment and shame for not opening up to him about what was really going on. It was clear that he could sense something was amiss; my behavior had been distant and unusual. To his credit, I'm sure he understood the weight of everything I had been through. Cupping my cheek, Sasuke gently turned my face toward his, and his lips brushed against mine. "Let me take you home today. I can take better care of you by myself," he said softly as he pulled the sheet back.

I looked down and saw the state I was in. The white hospital gown had been pulled up, I had a large scar going up the right side of my legs, and the bruising had faded and was a light brown color. My arm was wrapped in bandages, and a large scar went from my hip to my thigh. "Wow," I gasped in disbelief, "how did that happen?" I say, pointing to the ugly mark on my leg. "The vines are what saved you." His finger traced the outline of the scar." The vines wrapped around your leg, tearing into your flesh as they slowed your fall. Your leg was dislocated. The cut was deep. Luckily, you didn't suffer any permanent damage, except the scar," he says bending down softly kissing the scar, "I am thankful for it. If not for this scar, you would be" he trailed off