“Not in our world,” Sasuke repeats, eyes following as Itachi moves to sit on the edge of the bed. Part of him wants to lunge forward again and hang on, but he knows it would seem childish, brash. He’s shaking, but the need to be comforted has been slaked somewhat by the earlier hug; he’s still crying, too, but they’re slowing into an occasional hitch of breath rather than the tight sobs they’d started as. So he pushes back the fear that Itachi will leave again, and tries to listen.
Another world. Kidnapped, sort of. Complicated. He nods to show that he understands and that Itachi can continue.
But he can’t stop himself from reaching out and looping his fingers and thumb around his brother’s wrist. Bony. Almost as thin as his.