Mar 02, 2021 2:31 PM
sean struggles to live, desmond choses to forget
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Sean looks at Desmond for a long moment, and then goes back to work.

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Desmond hits his heel against the box for a bit, trying to make a rhythm. 

Eventually, he can't stand the silence. "Why don't you sleep?"

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Sean stops unpacking the box for a moment, and clenches his hands so hard he's surprised the skin doesn't split. 

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Sean didn't have to answer that, Desmond knew what that look was. But it wasn't good enough anymore. 

"That was five years ago." 

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"You say that like grief has a time limit."

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"No, I mean- I miss them too. But they'd want you to have a life, Sean. We've been living here for a year now and you haven't relaxed once."

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Sean feels his eyes burn with tears. Have a life. What kind of life can he have, knowing what he does? Having seen what he did? 

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He doesn't want to cry, so he gets angry instead. Anger is easier. 

"I swear to god, Des, if this is about the fucking motorbike again-"

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Desmond flinches. "Fuck me for giving a shit about my brother! No, this isn't about the bike."

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"Really? Because if you wanted to wear me down, Des, I would say that ambushing me on little sleep would do it."

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Desmond gets up, shoulders tight with fury. But he's not thirteen anymore, and he doesn't stomp off and hide. 

"I'm not gonna fucking fight you. You want to get all defensive and act like it's my fault you haven't had a life, go for it."

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Something cold and bile-tasting settles in Sean's stomach. "Des-"

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"No, no. I don't want to hear it. I listen to your rules. I keep myself safe like you told me too. But you act like if you breathe the wrong way someone's gonna gun you down. You gotta move on, Sean." 

He goes to leave.

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"We're never gonna be safe from them. We're William Miles' sons."

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Desmond turns around, cold steel in his eyes. "I don't think we have anything to fear from dad's little cult following."

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"I-"

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"We're probably not even his kids. He was making child soldiers, Sean. It's fucked."

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"It-" It was real. Sean knows it was real. Every word from Desmond cuts like a knife. 

But he's safer in denial. "I can't tell you what to think."

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"Could've fooled me." Desmond is a little regretful for being so harsh. His brother bruises so easily now. 

"You'll get over it. Guy at work showed me some stuff on cults. You just gotta break the mentality."

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