Oh Brother (Completed)

Hangover Helper

Every time a stair creaked beneath my foot, I cringed. The only two Bennett's that hadn't successfully made it back to their room were sprawled out in the living room, likely to wake up at any second with how loud the stairs were creaking under my light steps.

Aden was curled into a fetal position on the couch, a few empty solo cups around his head, a thin blanket draped over his body. Below him on the Persian rug, not even five feet away, was Buckley. His mouth was wide open, legs straight out, arms crossed over his chest. I shook my head, a little amused a little disappointed, before heading into the kitchen. I found Phil a groaning mess on the floor, back pressed against a kitchen chair, hands pressed against his ears. I looked over my shoulder to find Sam behind the island, a slew of tall glasses of a green smoothie across it. I walked over, examining the green liquid.

"What are you doing? What is this?" I asked him.

Sam grabs a glass and points toward Phil. ."It's the only hangover remedy that works for these idiots. This and pizza, but that's still on the way."

Mom had always told me that was a good piece of knowledge to have; grease helped with hangovers.

"Where are the trash bags?" I responded, eyes scanning the kitchen. He points toward a cabinet under the skin to his left. I crouched down and grabbed a handful of them.

"It's not your job to clean up after them, you know. They made the mess and should be the ones to clean it up."

I shrugged a shoulder. "I was at the party too, therefore I have a part in helping clean up."

He chuckled quietly to himself and kissed my forehead before ushering me out of the kitchen. I caught a glimpse of him handing Phil a glass as the door swung shut behind me.

Sighing, I climbed the stairs again and started tossing the trash into the bag. I gagged a little when I reached the third stair, finding a used condom on it. Swallowing, I scooped it up with a solo cup and tossed them into the black bag. I had barely rustled the bag and started to stand again when I heard a groan from the living room. I looked just in time for Buckley to roll on to his left side and throw up all over the rug beside him. I rubbed a hand along my forehead before setting the trash bag at the foot of the stair case and walking to my brother, careful to step over the vomit beside him.

"Come on, Buck." I encouraged, trying to sit him upright. The thought of trying to help a twenty-two year old man out of a pool of his own vomit had just marked the top of the list of things I nerver wanted to experience again. I succeeded in getting him to his knees, but just as I looked up again, Aden's hooded eyes opened a fraction of an inch and he threw up all over me. Buck laughed, then groaned and grabbed at his head. I straightened myself, shaking my hands in the air to fling the excess off and looked toward the hallway in hopes it'd stop the rush of nausea that was ravaging my stomach.

Damien decided to grace us with his surprisingly not hungover and very sober state, touching the back of his arm to his mouth to keep from laughing. He cleared his throat a moment later and crossed the room to help me with my brothers.

"I don't think it's funny." I said, then thought about it. "You want a hug?"

The laughter finally shook him a little beside me. "I do. I've been there. We all have. We take turns being the designated sober person for this reason. Come on, I'll help you get them cleaned up."

*

I pulled the towel from my hair and draped it over my arm as I edged back down the stairs. Aden and Buckley were now on the couch, stuffing their face with pizza, each holding one of Sam's smoothies in the other hand. Sam was on his knees, scrubbing the carpet while Damien vacuumed around him. All looked toward me the moment I tripped over my foot and caught the railing before I could faceplant.

"Sorry." Aden mumbled, avoiding my eyes. "About earlier."

Buck muttered something similar as I passed him behind the couch. Damien opened his mouth to say something, but slowly shut it again when Nix appeared halfway down the stairs, massaging his temples.

Just as he brushed passed me and headed for the kitchen, Hudson stepped out from the hallway and they ran into each other. They exchanged a long, half hearted apology before Hudson rammed into my shoulder a little too hard on his way in. Nix, seeing what he'd done, grabbed a crushed beer can from the floor and threw it at the back of Hudson's head. My half brother didn't even turn around, but flipped Nix off over his shoulder and disappeared into the kitchen.

"You good?" Nix asked, his arm brushing against mine. I forced a smile, ready to respond, but Buckley answered through a mouth full of food, arm hanging over the back of the couch.

"She was until she was wearing Aden's puke."

Nix's nose scrunched up in disgust and he shuddered moments later. "Don't miss that at all."

Without another word, he flashed me a smile and followed my half brother into the kitchen.

*

"I wouldn't touch that." My head whipped up, causing me to almost lose my balance and fall face first into the water. Damien caught my shoulder to steady me, then backed away and started picking up the trash under the lawn chairs. I was honestly a little surprised he had ventured off on his own to come help me. None of my brother's had budged from the couch, and they didn't look as if they would anytime soon. Nix had wandered back up the stairs with a promise he'd join the living again once his headache was gone.

I used the pool net to fish out the thong I'd been about to pick up and dumped it into the trash bag beside me.

"Why didn't you drink last night?" I blurted before I could stop and think if I wanted the response.

Damien shot me a confused look over his shoulder. "I had a few beers."

"When I came down you definitely weren't drunk."

"You talking before or after my brother kissed you?"

My cheeks flushed at the comment. "You saw that?"

Damien was laughing now, obviously finding my embarrassment his newest source of entertainment. "It was pretty slick, I'll hand him that. But he was so drunk he could barely stand up, so pretty sure he doesn't remember it. No need to worry about any weirdness between the two of you."

"That was my first kiss." I didn't realize what I said until a beer bottle slipped from Damien's fingers and fell on to the lawn chair. He recollected himself and dusted it into the trash bag, then turned his full attention to me.

"I don't really know how to respond to that." He confessed, gray eyes finding my own. "You could try to talk to him about it, but he'd just feel guilty since he doesn't remember. Maybe just pretend it didn't happen?"

I nodded. That was about as close to it never happening as I'd get. Luckily Damien, and possibly Sam, seemed to be the only two that had been witness to it, and sober enough to remember.

"I just didn't feel like it." He broke the silence once more, but when he met my eyes, his broad shoulders fell forward a little, "Nix and your brothers were all pretty wasted. I was afraid you'd get yourself into something and wouldn't have anyone to turn to."

Rather than try muster up a response, I started to turn back to the pool, but he caught my arm so I was forced to stare into his haunting, guarded eyes. "Give us a chance to prove we aren't who you think we are, Arianna. One chance, and if we screw it up, that's on us."

I stared at him, recalling my conversation with Sam last night. He'd said something similar, to give them a chance to be the brothers I'd lost the chance of having ten years ago. It wouldn't kill me to give them the benefit of the doubt, and as Damien stated, if they did mess it up, it'd be on them.

"Okay." I whispered, tearing my eyes from his figure in front of me and looking down at the water. In the reflection I didn't see the tense, arrogant mess of a seventeen-year-old boy beside me, but the scared, vulnerable seven year old that had held my hand in my bedroom the night the finally thread of hope I'd had unraveled and the life I had known slipped through my fingers.