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My Brother's Keeper	By : PhoenixInnocence Category: Naruto > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1720 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto or it's characters. I do not make profit from this story.

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Disclaimer: I don't own Naruto and I do not make a profit from this story.
This story was Beta'd by the amazing MisatosPenPen. This story is also dedicated to MisatosPenPen. Chapter One is also dedicated to Catiemon.

Saturday October 10
As predicted, the weather turned warmer. Some of the police station windows were cracked open, allowing the spicy scent of an autumn day to waft inside. Kakashi sat behind his desk, desperately trying to drown out his partner’s incessant nervous twitching. Today, it manifested itself in the offbeat tapping of pen against desk, a sound that always grated on Kakashi’s nerves. Usually, he’d dismiss it; but today his nerves were frayed.
He shot a glare at his partner, who offered back a smile. The tapping ceased, leaving behind the everyday sounds of a squad room in full swing. Phones ringing, the fax machine buzzing, papers shuffling, a few curse words here and there, keyboard keys clacking away … it was music to Kakashi’s ears.
“Hatake, Sarutobi, in my office now,” Tsunade barked through her open door.
That was not music to Kakashi’s ears. He stood and popped his back, sighing in satisfaction, before winding his way through the maze of desks to their Captain’s office.
Tsunade was seated behind her desk, scowling as she replaced the phone in its cradle. As soon as Kakashi and Asuma entered, her eyes snapped to them. “Close the door,” she ordered.
Asuma moved first, closing the door swiftly.
“There’s been a kidnapping,” she started, staring hard at both of them. “It’s the son of Fugaku Uchiha and I need the two of you on the ground running.”
Kakashi cocked an eyebrow. The Uchihas were prominent and undeniably wealthy, the perfect target for kidnappers – definitely above their pay grade. “Forgive me,” Kakashi said, “but shouldn’t this be a job for the Feds?”
It wasn’t that Kakashi was shirking his duty, but with so many variables and outcomes with a kidnapping — especially with the son of a prominent businessman — it was better to have the Fed’s take control. He preferred it that way.
“They’re en route, but ETA is at least an hour and a half from the nearest satellite office,” Tsunade answered. “We need someone there now; there’s already been contact with the kidnappers.”
“Any demand for ransom?”
Tsunade shook her head. “No, this call was to get their attention. They’ll receive another at 2 p.m.”
“That’s an hour from now,” Asuma said, checking his watch. “We’ll need to hurry,” he added to Kakashi.
“The address is 1600 West 53^rd Boulevard, Tower A, the penthouse suite,” Tsunade said. Her gaze lingered on Kakashi a moment longer than was necessary.
.
.
1600 West 53rd was a modern apartment building of glass and metal, sitting directly in the heart of the city. From the moment you laid eyes on the structure, it captured your complete attention. From the four imposing cylindrically peaked towers arranged on a square lot, to the eight skywalks that connected the four towers to one another; it took up an entire city block. It loomed over the surrounding area with cold indifference and stood like an imposing beacon, dwarfing surrounding structures for miles. It spoke of immeasurable wealth, built by the wealthy elite for those of the top 2%. It screamed: look at me, while simultaneously warning you to keep your distance.
The doorman greeted them with urgency, opening the express elevator that went straight into the penthouse suite. Kakashi and Asuma were greeted as soon as the elevator opened by a distraught woman. “Please, come in,” she said, beckoning them with urgency. “I’m Mikoto, Sasuke’s mother. Fugaku’s in the study waiting for the next phone call.”
Her voice was soft and gentle even in her panic. Fear and anguish were a natural given, but it made itself known in the creases of her smooth, beautiful Asian face. Where the creases would detract from others beauty, it only served to enhance hers. She looked no older than thirty and Kakashi had difficulty believing this woman was the biological mother of a seventeen year-old.
Fugaku Uchiha sat behind his desk, eyes staring unseeingly out the wall of windows. There was an instant impression of floating high above the city; in a non-secure, free-falling, dizzying kind of way. A feeling some men in Mr. Uchiha’s position loved, even delighted in. A feeling of absolute power over the masses; that their word was law and to disobey was a call for high treason. A position where they were unattainable, unreachable; like Gods and Goddesses of Mt. Olympus and Asgard. Only in this reality were they attainable, were they reachable; subjected to the same perils that mere mortals they ruled over were subjected too.
“Fugaku.” Mikoto summoned his attention and he rotated his chair to face his visitors. He was nearly a stark contrast to his wife; whereas she was youthful and Asian, Fugaku looked more middle aged and more European. It wouldn’t be the first time a wealthy man took a younger, beautiful wife.
Mr. Uchiha appeared calm in a semi-detached way. No resemblance to the god, the modern day Zeus as they called him, the demigod newspapers and magazines called brazen and intimidating. This man was subdued, struck down by a low blow. Someone has dared to mess with his child.
“Sir, I’m Sergeant Hatake and this is detective Asuma Sarutobi.”
The man stood and held his hand out to Kakashi. “Fugaku Uchiha,” he said, gripping Asuma’s hand in turn.
“You’ve had a call already; were there any instructions you were to follow?” Kakashi asked.
“They said to wait for the next call at 2 p.m.”
“Was the caller male?” Asuma asked.
“It was distorted, but it sounded male.”
Kakashi nodded, taking out his notebook. “And did you speak with your son?”
“No,” Fugaku said.
Asuma grimaced.
“Is that bad?” Fugaku asked. His mouth clenched, pupils dilating.
“It’s preferable if contact is made with the victim,” Asuma said.
“Preferable, but not expected,” Kakashi added. “We’d like to tap and trace your phones; with your permission. We also want permission to track Sasuke’s cell phone.”
Fugaku didn’t even pause to think about it, “Of course, anything that’ll bring Sasuke home faster.”
Kakashi gave a curt nod. “Does Sasuke drive a car?”
“No.”
“MetroPass?
Fugaku nodded.
“Is there a photo of Sasuke?” Kakashi asked.
Fugaku picked up a framed photo on his desk. “This is the most recent photo we have. It’s his school picture.”
Kakashi took the picture. He could see some resemblance to Fugaku, only heavily influenced by his mother’s Asian heritage. “Do you mind if we hold on to this for a while?”
Fugaku nodded.
The study door burst open and a frantic man nearly bowled Kakashi over in his fervor. “Is it true, chichi,” he demanded, “was Sasuke taken?”
“Yes,” Fugaku said; a swift nod of the head for emphasis.
A look of abject terror passed over the man’s face and he sagged into the nearest chair, instantly deflating. Kakashi took a moment to study him. Light complected with dark hair and dark eyes; he heavily resembled the Asian woman who answered the door.
“I’m Sergeant Hatake,” Kakashi started.
The man rounded on him. “What are you doing to find my brother?” he demanded, catching a second wind.
There was a moment of silence on Kakashi and Asuma’s part. A quick glance to one another and they knew they’d been thinking the same thing. Their initial assessment of the man had been correct; he was a brother, but not to the Asian woman, but of the victim. Kakashi took another moment to let that fact sink in.
In the silence that followed, the man rose swiftly from the chair and repeated his question, “What are you doing to find my otouto?”
“Otouto?” Asuma asked.
“My brother! What are you doing to find him? Not sitting around with your thumbs up your asses, I hope?”
Kakashi’s lips twitched, instantly reminded of his own little brother. Naruto’s brash, bold words and the sheer loudness of him were easily conjured from memory. The smirk vanished before it was completely formed; his jaw locking against the memory of Naruto.
“We’re doing everything possible,” Kakashi assured him.
“And you’ll guarantee Sasuke will make it home.” It was a demand.
The vein above Kakashi’s eye began to twitch. “We’ll try everything in our power to insure that happens,” he said, pleasantly. It wasn’t without effort however.
The man scoffed.
“Itachi,” Fugaku warned.
“That’s not good enough, chichi,” Itachi said, rounding on his father.
“There are no guarantees, Mr. Uchiha. But I promise I will do more than my best for Sasuke and your family,” Kakashi said.
“We’ll see,” Itachi muttered. He left the room as abruptly as he’d entered; leaving an awkward silence in his wake.
Kakashi’s lips twitched. He was familiar with this type of attitude; he had experience enough with it, including his own.
Asuma shot Kakashi an inquiring look, mingled with a hint of surprise. Kakashi shrugged his shoulders, but deep down, he sympathized. He knew what Itachi was going through from the perspective of a brother. He’d felt the same way with Naruto.
“I apologize for my son,” Fugaku said, resuming his seat. He held his forehead in his palm and sighed. “He and Sasuke are very close being only five years apart.”
“There’s no need to apologize,” Kakashi said. “It’s a difficult time and stress can run high.” I’d be more concerned if Itachi wasn’t worried, he thought.
Fugaku swallowed and nodded. “How many kidnappings have you worked before?” he asked.
“Only two.”
“And how did they turn out?”
“We recovered one child alive, the other was not recovered.”
“Is that so,” Fugaku said steadily.
Kakashi felt an odd pull to defend himself. “The other child was abducted by their father who fled the country. We know where they are, that the child is indeed alive and well-cared for; better than they’d be if they were left with the mother. In my opinion, that case was a success.”
“Despite it being a career failure,” Fugaku said.
Kakashi nodded.
.
.
The next thirty-five minutes passed by slowly as the techs invaded the Uchiha penthouse and set up their equipment. Mrs. Uchiha darted in and out of the study, repeatedly asking if anyone needed anything as the minutes ticked by; sandwiches, water, even offering Scotch. Itachi was immediately by her side and quietly escorted her from the room. Kakashi felt a pang in his chest and a drop in his stomach as she was led away gently, Itachi’s voice low and soothing. A jumble of images of Kushina in the same distress pushed their way to the front of his thoughts and it wasn’t without effort that he reigned them back in. Sasuke Uchiha was his priority at the moment.
At the stroke of two on the grandfather clock in the hallway, the phone rang. Fugaku started, suddenly very nervous. Kakashi gave him the go ahead as he donned headphones to listen in.
“Fugaku Uchiha,” he answered.
“Mr. Uchiha,” the kidnapper said, his voice distorted and pitching octaves as he spoke. “Listen closely to my instructions or Sasuke will die. You will secure the sum of 1,000,000 dollars by midnight tonight; no excuses. I will contact you then with further instructions.”
“Wait,” Fugaku demanded. “Let me talk to Sasuke.”
“Midnight, Mr. Uchiha,” the kidnapper said and disconnected the call.
Fugaku deflated in his chair. His hands were shaking as he rubbed his forehead.
“You did great,” Asuma said, lifting the headphones from his head.
“Were we able to trace the call?” Kakashi asked, turning towards the techs.
“Yes,” one of the techs answered. “It came from a pay phone out in Greenwich Meadow. I’ll contact the local police and get them out there immediately.”
“That’s it,” Fugaku said. “You’ve traced the call and you’ll find Sasuke?”
“It’s hardly ever that easy, chichi,” Itachi said, entering the study and taking a seat. He’d been leaning against the doorjamb; quietly taking everything in.
“Itachi, please,” Mikoto said, following her oldest son. “They’re doing everything they can to help.”
Itachi scoffed.
“Sometimes it is that simple,” Asuma said. “Depending on whom we’re dealing with.”
“How many of these kidnappings result in a happy ending,” Itachi demanded. “How many are returned to their family after ransom has been paid? How many are never seen again?!”
“Itachi,” Fugaku warned, rubbing his temples. “Now is not the time, boy.”
Itachi either didn’t hear or ignored his father. Kakashi would wager on the latter. “I want answers! How many are even returned alive?!”
“Itachi,” Mikoto wailed.
Ignoring his mother, Itachi leveled a glare at Kakashi. “How many?”
“It depends on the type of kidnapping you’re looking at. The statistics vary by type and area. The most common are child abductions committed by a family member. According to the last study I read, that makes up a quarter of the 800,000 children under the age of eighteen reported missing each year. About 50,000 are children abducted by nonfamily members. About a 100 children are the victims of what we consider “stereotypical” kidnappings: the child is held overnight, transported 50 miles or more, killed, ransomed, or held with the intent to keep the child permanently,” Kakashi said.*
Itachi didn’t flinch.
“But you already know the statistics,” Kakashi said, a rare smile forming on his lips. In the forty minutes that Kakashi had known Itachi Uchiha, he’d already formed an opinion of him. He didn’t strike him as a man to do anything half-assed.
“I’ve read the 1999 National Study. It also says that the first three hours are critical,” Itachi said. “Over 76% of abducted children are murdered within that small window of time.”
“The recovery rate of a missing child is 97%,” Asuma said. “The statistics are good.”
“Statistics are just numbers. Sasuke is human, the kidnapper is human … we’re dealing with people and people are unpredictable!” Itachi said.
“Half the time, yes, but they’re also not very imaginative,” Kakashi said. “You need to let us do our job. It’s the best thing you could do for Sasuke. Can you get the full ransom amount, Mr. Uchiha?” Kakashi asked Fugaku.
“It won’t be a problem. I have half the amount on hand; the other half I’ll withdraw from the bank.”
“Let’s do that immediately. Detective Sarutobi will escort you.”
Fugaku rose, taking a moment to stare out the window with unseeing eyes. Mikoto rested her hand on his arm. He gave her a weak smile, covering her hand with his own. She nuzzled into the back of his hand, whispering, “It’ll be okay.”
“Of course it will. Sasuke is our son, after all.” Fugaku gave her a quick kiss before he left, Asuma close behind.
Mikoto waited until she heard the elevator ding before choking out a sob.
“Haha,” Itachi said, embracing his mother.
“You’re a good son, Itachi. I’ll be fine,” she said, pulling away. She offered Kakashi a watery smile. “We’ll have Sasuke home soon enough, I’m sure of it.”
Kakashi only wished he could feel as confident. One million dollars was a staggering amount, the largest he’d ever known to be demanded. The kidnapper knew with whom they were dealing, that the Uchihas would have no problem procuring the hefty sum. He liked the bumbling idiot kidnappers better; they were less methodical and prone to making mistakes that got them caught.
Kakashi’s phone rang, startling both Itachi and Mikoto. “Hatake,” he answered. “I see … any surveillance videos? How long will that take? Hmm … Keep me informed.” He took a deep breath, “That was the Greenwich Police. CSU is processing the phone booth and detectives are reviewing any surveillance footage from the last hour.”
He didn’t want to say that the prospects looked dim, that there were over a dozen prints from the phone booth and none of the security camera’s faced the payphone. It was looking like the kidnapper had seemingly disappeared without a trace.
There was a soft buzzing sound that filled the room, followed by a crackling voice to Kakashi’s left. He turned to look at the intercom box as the doorman spoke. “Mrs. Uchiha, the FBI has arrived.”
“The FBI,” Itachi said, turning to his mother. “You contacted the Feds?”
“Of course I did,” Mikoto said. She pressed the intercom button. “Send them up immediately, Guy.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Guy said.
“You called the Feds,” Itachi started again. “Does chichi know this?”
“Yes, ‘Tachi, he knows. We agreed that it was best for Sasuke.”
“I don’t like it. What if the kidnapper—”
“Itachi, please,” Mikoto said.
“What will they do to Sasuke?” Itachi asked louder.
Mikoto’s eyes glistened with renewed tears. “I don’t want to take chances that I don’t have to. Excuse me,” she said and greeted the two FBI agents, “Mikoto Uchiha.”
“Ma’am, SSA Ibiki Morino; this is SSA Anko Mitirashi.”
“Has anything new developed since we were contacted last?” Anko asked, turning towards Kakashi and raising an eyebrow.
“Sergeant Hatake with KPD,” he said, offering his hand in turn. “The kidnapper phoned promptly at 2 p.m. with their demands. They demanded $1,000,000 in ransom and will phone again at midnight with further instructions. We were able to trace the call to a phone booth in Greenwich Meadow. CSU is processing now. They’ll let us know what they find.”
“Has contact been made with Sasuke?” Ibiki asked.
“None, just the ransom demand.”
“Where is Mr. Uchiha?” Anko asked.
“He’s at the bank,” Mikoto said, fiddling with her pointer finger in nervousness.
“You intend to pay the ransom,” Anko said.
“Of course,” Itachi said. “Why wouldn’t we pay to have Sasuke back?”
“No need to get angry, sir,” Ibiki said.
“I’m not angry,” he said, looking anything but. “Haha, has anyone talked to Oji yet?”
Mikoto gasped. “NO!” she exclaimed. “Oh, how could I forget?”
“Oji?” Ibiki questioned.
Itachi rolled his eyes. Kakashi chuckled silently. It was such an immature response, but in his opinion, fitting of the situation. “Oji, means uncle,” Itachi said. “I’ll let uncle Madara know. Has dad talked to uncle Izuna?”
“I don’t think Izuna knows. Oh, how could I forget to tell them?” Mikoto said.
“I’ll let them know, as well as Shisui.” Itachi left, passing Ibiki and Anko without acknowledgement.
“Is he always like that?” Anko asked.
“Itachi can be intense at times, but he’s really a gentle boy. Sasuke’s his otouto, his little brother, and they’re really close.”
“Who is Shisui?” Kakashi asked.
“Shisui is my oi, my nephew. Madara and Izuna are my brothers-in-law. Shisui is Izuna’s son.”
“How close-knit is your family?” Ibiki asked.
“They live with us; except for Shisui. Madara is a shut–in; he’s been that way since Obito…” Mikoto paused, taking a shaky breath.
“Who is Obito?” Anko questioned.
“Madara’s son; he passed away a few years ago.”
“Accident?” Ibiki asked.
“Yes,” Mikoto said, sitting down. “It was stupid, really. He was drunk and high; took a walk off a 6-story building.”
Kakashi winced, recalling the story from the papers. It was a tragic end, but helped raise awareness to the dangers of illegal drugs and excessive drinking. It was a message that resonated within the community: drug related incidents were down by 20%, alcohol related incidents reduced by 35%.
“Madara hasn’t been the same since,” Mikoto finished.
“Tell us more about Itachi,” Ibiki said. “You said he and Sasuke are close? Have they always been that way?”
“They’re like any other siblings, I suppose,” Mikoto said. “They have their ups and downs, but they’ve always been close. Sasuke’s planning on attending the same university Itachi did. He’s just completed his application for early admission.”
“He’s a senior?”
“Yes, at Pennwood Heights.”
“Good grades? Well liked?” Anko asked.
“Yes, Sasuke is a straight A student. He’s looking at being Valedictorian. He’s popular, especially among the Lilac Heights students.”
“Lilac Heights? I thought you said he attended Pennwood Heights?”
“Lilac Heights is an all-female academy; Pennwood Heights is all-male. They’re sibling schools,” Kakashi said.
“I see,” Ibiki said.
There was a moment of silence, the front door opening and closing. Fugaku entered the study, noting the FBI agents who introduced themselves.
“You’ve the full amount?” Anko asked, immediately.
“Yes,” Fugaku agreed. “And I fully intend to pay, non-negotiable. Do whatever you have to; I don’t care about the money. They could have it all, for all I care. I only want my son back.”
“We’ll need to plan our best recourse, then. We want this to go as smoothly as possible,” Ibiki said.
“We’ll be going then,” Kakashi said.
“You’re not staying?” Mikoto asked.
“You’re in good hands, ma’am,” Ibiki injected.
Kakashi sighed softly. “It’s a joint investigation, but I see no reason the Feds shouldn’t run point on this. They really do have more experience in a kidnapping then we do and honestly, they’ve trained more for this. Don’t worry, you’re in good hands; and so is Sasuke.”
Mikoto looked down and took a deep breath. “I suppose you’re right,” she said.
It sounded weak to Kakashi and he immediately regretted the decision to leave; no matter how much he desperately wanted to distance himself from this case. He should’ve known better, but it wasn’t enough to change his mind. This case was hitting too close to home and the memory of Naruto, especially on his birthday, was a nagging itch that was begging to be itched with alcohol. Kakashi took a deep breath, “We’ll be back in the morning to check on how things went.”
“Thank you,” she said, as softly as a kiss from an angel.
Kakashi gave a nod and shook Fugaku’s hand. “We’ll see ourselves out,” he said, motioning for Asuma to follow him.
“So, you’re leaving,” Itachi said, stalling them at the elevator. “I thought you said you’d do your best for Sasuke? All I see is you slinking away as soon as the Feds arrive. How cowardly.”
“We’re not slinking away,” Kakashi said. “We’ll be back in the morning to follow up.”
“And how is that helping Sasuke,” Itachi demanded. “You don’t give a damn about him, do you? He’s just another spoiled rich kid getting what he deserves, right?”
“Wrong,” Kakashi said. “If you’d stop being so defensive, you’d see that. Your family’s wealth means nothing to me. If Sasuke’s a spoiled brat, that means nothing to me. No child, no matter their station in life, deserves to be taken from their family who loves them in demand for money. Now, I am making the decision as to what is best for Sasuke in this moment and the two agents standing in your father’s study are the best for Sasuke. Our resources are negligible compared to theirs, they’ve completed training courses for just such this occasion, and have been extensively trained in the art of negotiation—should it come to that in the end.”
Itachi’s jaw was working furiously, it looked painful. “If the FBI is the best, why does it feel like you’re abandoning Sasuke?” he asked, softly.
“I’m not abandoning anyone. We’ll be back tomorrow morning.” Kakashi pulled out his wallet and retrieved his business card. He grabbed his pen from an inside jacket pocket and scribbled his personal number on the back. “Here,” he said, offering the card to Itachi. “Call for anything.”
Itachi took the offered card, staring at the line of numbers sloppily written. He smirked for a moment, sarcasm getting the better of him in that moment. “You have shitty handwriting.”
“I don’t need flowery and graceful penmanship to be a cop,” Kakashi countered.
“It should at least be legible. Is that supposed to be a six or a zero?” Itachi asked, nose wrinkling with confusion.
“There are no zeros in my phone number. It’s perfectly legible, so stop being an ass.”
Itachi chuckled. “What good is it if I can’t give the fuzz a hard time?”
“It’s all fun and games, but never forget it’s the fuzz who take the call when things go wrong,” Kakashi said, boarding the elevator.
Itachi sobered immediately. “I’m not likely to forget something like that,” he said, as the elevator door closed on Asuma and Kakashi.
*Information used from the 1999 study for The National Center for Missing & Exploited Children^®
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My Brother's Keeper