Coquelicot

28 2 5

by EPrescott

by EPrescott

#HalloweenVault2 magic

WORD COUNT: 675

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"Where are you going?"

Connor jumps, his palm jerks away from the doorknob for a second like a child caught eaten candies before bedtime.

The floorboard creaks. The moonlight filtering at the end of the hallway barely backlights Davo's tiny form, which took Connor's eyes a few seconds to pick out. From where he is standing, he can partially glimpse at Davo's and his shared room and beyond, a brewing midnight-burgundy sky. Electric neon-green lightning slits across the cloud, and Connor realizes Davo has actually moved closer than he expected.

"Are you leaving?" Davo says quietly, the outline of his bare shoulders slump forward. "Are you leaving me?" Connor's heart clenches, and he isn't sure if it is Davo's broken voice or Davo's forlorn shadow that did it. He suddenly feels dizzy and sick, like he is hit by a blunt object right between his eyes.

Connor tries to smile even though his smile is crooked and deformed because he doesn't know if he should smile in this situation or not. He leans down and gathers Davo up, kissing Davo's soft wild hair. Blackness presses against his nape, tangible and thrumming with urgent as the clock inside his head ticks down. He walks back to Davo's room. A lump starts forming in his windpipe, only growing spikes when Davo noosed his little arms around Connor's neck.

There are a million things he can say right now, a million lies he could feed Davo to sooth his childish worries. Davo would understand. Davo would know why. He is small, but he is perceptive. However, a sob escaped from Davo's throat made Connor felt ashamed for even considering lying blatantly to his brother like that. But he can't bring himself to say the truth either, so he clamps his mouth.

"I don't like this house," Davo says, burrowing into the crook between Connor's chin and shoulder. "It's so cold. Nobody lives here but me, and I've been here for so long. I miss you, I miss Mam and Dad. Aunt D. says you'll never return when you get back to the Other Side."

"She is lying," Connor lies.

Davo trembles as Connor lays him down and tucks the comforter around Davo's small body. Davo grasps at Connor's shirt hem before he stood up. Connor's giant, calloused hand comes up and squeezes Davo's fragile wrist once, and Connor is grateful that it's too dark to see if Davo is crying at the moment when Connor pushes him away. "I'll come back to you. Promise."

Connor forces himself to walk out Davo's room and bolts out the front door this time, lest he second-thought himself. Dethila was already waiting outside, across the deserted street, when Connor stumbles down the cracking driveway.

The dark crimson sky overhead casts an eerie red to the objects on the ground and specifically makes the chalk circle drawn around her radiates menacingly. She raises her hands at Connor, palms up.

"You should have told him the truth."

"I did."

Dethila looks back pointedly at the house. Connor doesn't. "Would he be happy if he wakes up from his coma tomorrow and realizes his brother has died for him?"

"I crashed the car," Connor says, not looking at Dethila's abnormal glowing eyes. The air visually cackles. Electricity dances along his arms, going under his skin. "It was supposed to be me who should be dead in the first place."

"It is not too late to turn around," Dethila continues. "He'd understand if you explain it to him. A week of your natural lifeline for every day you spent down here with him is a great deal, no?"

Connor sets his jaws.

Dethila sighs. She grins wryly and crooks a finger, beckoning him closer. As soon as he steps into the circle, a white flash blinds him. Words rush past his ears. Dethila hovers above him, her mouth is moving but he can't detect a sound. Colours blur into continuous black streams.

Connor takes a deep breath and lets everything within him burst.