Well, that was unexpected

Sorry (Not really)

     Son of a bitch!  Izuna had landed a good hit on him.  Tobirama hated to admit it, but it was true, and the dark blood flowing freely from his arm was proof of his folly.  His sword had slipped just a fraction of an inch against Izuna's own, but it had been enough to give him the opportunity to break away from the clash of blades and swing at Tobirama's shoulder.  It just had to be his sword arm too.
     He took a moment to assess the situation.  Izuna was staring at him like a cat does its prey, and it was honestly unsettling.  He was wounded pretty badly, Izuna seemed more excited for battle than usual, and Hashirama was too busy yelling after Madara about friendship to come to his aid.  Speaking of Madara, he was much more excited today as well.  His fire jutsu seemed more brilliant and extravagant, his movements much more fluid and energized, and Tobirama had noticed that every time he caught a glimpse of the Uchiha he had been grinning (no Tobirama hadn't been trying to look at Madara and no he hadn't been distracted at all by the bright smile and long hair and-) and being much too joyful for a battlefield.  Tobirama forced his eyes away from the dark hair that his eyes were (constantly) drawn to and back to his hot tempered little brother.
     He could tell that Izuna was gearing up for another attack (by the tensing of his shoulders and how he shifted weight between his feet) when Hashirama called for a retreat.  Izuna's posture noticeably sagged with disappointment at the end of his fun, though Tobi could've swore there was still some remnants of glee in his eyes for some odd reason, as he retreated back to his brother's side.  Tobirama treated himself to a last longing gaze at the long hair of the Uchiha head (yes only the hair obviously not his smile or his eyes or his-) before turning to search for his own clan head.  Hashirama was waving at Tobirama to hurry, though his eyes were glued to Madara's face (why was Madara's chakra suddenly going out of control?).  With a roll of red eyes, he started a light jog to join his clan now that the call for retreat had saved him from battle (seriously, why was Madara's chakra acting weird now?).  Just as Hashirama disappeared into the woods after their retreating clan members and Tobirama was getting ready to run full speed to catch up, Madara's chakra flared with something desperate, and Tobirama was being lifted into the air before he could even react.  When his head slammed into something red and solid (Madara's armor?) the world went black and he surrendered to the sweet grasp of dreams, surrounded by warm chakra and the scent of lavender.

••••••••••

     In his dream, he was surrounded by clouds.  They were his bed, blanket, and pillow, keeping him so warm and so comfortable and relaxed that he didn't want to wake up.
     That didn't last long.
     The sound of a sob rudely woke him from his sleep.  As a seasoned ninja, Tobirama's body was conditioned to wake at even the smallest disturbance, and what was going on outside the door was more than enough to disrupt his dreams.  There were shouts and sobs from a very familiar voice (paired with a very familiar chakra) that he couldn't fully understand through the thick mahogany door.
     As he fully awoke and came to his senses, he realized that what he had felt in his dream as clouds were truly silk pajamas and sheets draped across a bed he knew not to be his own.  It was much too large and soft to have belonged in the Senju compound.  The rest of the room was much like the bed in terms of extravagance.  There were paintings on the wall and fur rugs across the floor.  There was a large wardrobe left slightly ajar that showed Tobirama there was much more silk waiting to replace what he was wearing and long, beautifully embroidered yukatas waiting for someone to fill them out.  The Senju rooms were much simpler, having small beds with thin, worn sheets and trunks for clothing rather than large wardrobes.  They did not have furs and paintings and definitely did not wear yukata, their clothes were all made to allow them to be both casual and battle ready. Yukata did not work well in the midst of fighting.  Though the room was lovely, he had not been looking for the sole sake of admiring the decor.  He had found his armor (sitting atop the wardrobe, though his weapons were nowhere to be found) and had realized that the only ways out of the room were through the door and the window.  Without any weapons to fight his way out of the building with, he realized that his only chance to escape was through the window.
     After all, he was a prisoner of the Uchiha.
     Before he could reach for the window though, the door slowly creaked open.  He braced himself against the side of the wardrobe and grabbed for the chest plate of his armor for at least some protection.  But what came through the door made his grip on the metal falter.
     Madara had come in the room so slowly and opened the door so quietly it seemed like he was a father afraid of disturbing a toddler's sleep.  And when he realized that the bed was empty he shrieked in horror and whipped his head around the room until his eyes locked on the terrified pale creature huddled in the corner and tucked against the wardrobe like a child.
     When Tobirama realized that the man's face was being stained with fresh tears, he let the armor slip from his fingers.  Madara had been the one sobbing outside the door, he had known that.  The voice and the chakra were too well ingrained in Tobi's mind for him to not have known.  But hearing was so much different than seeing the grief on Madara's face, and his heart broke for the man standing before him.  Tobi didn't know what was hurting him, but he wanted it to stop, wanted to never again sense the suffering that Madara's chakra reflected.  He was utterly confused but knew whatever it was he wanted it to end.  And the confusion only further ingrained itself into his mind when Madara grasped at his heart and whispered thank god before throwing himself against Tobirama's chest and wrapping his long arms around his neck.  The sigh that fanned against his neck made up for all of Tobirama's confusion as he awkwardly returned the embrace.  Senjus did not hug, so he was not quite sure what to do aside from wrapping an arm around the man's waist and standing still while he sobbed.
     Madara did not stop crying for ten minutes and did not withdraw for another ten.  Even then it wasn't for long, as Madara pulled the both of them back toward the bed and slipped the covers over their chests before merging their personal spaces once again.  It took an hour of silence before Tobirama had the courage to speak.
     "Madara."  His voice had come out as barely a whisper, like a man who hadn't spoken for days.  He cleared his throat before speaking again, though it didn't help.  "Madara, what's going on?  I don't know where I am or what I'm supposed to do.  I need answers."
     His courage to speak was not rewarded as he hoped though.  Madara simply replied with a soft "Sleep now, talk later", before pulling the covers even higher and closing his eyes.
     Tobirama was not pleased with his answer, though he wouldn't argue if it meant losing the beautiful view of a sleeping Madara in front of him, long lashes nearly brushing his cheekbones and a softness in rest that he knew would never show any other time.  And so he savored the sight until he too fell into rest.