for weirdoherelol ❤
| Chapter 53 |
| my brother's keeper |
"Leave." Nick's voice was cutting.
Bree stood completely still as she kept her eyes trained on the guy who was seated on the front steps of Nick's dorm building. He was a few years older than them, that much was certain -- and though she'd never seen him around, that pair of amber eyes, short but angular nose, together with the lean body frame, told Bree that he was definitely related to Nick.
And when she'd heard the name Mike spill out of Nick's mouth, she suddenly remembered;
I had a brother. . .Michael's not - he's not dead. . .He's not someone I'd be able to recognise. . .I had a brother. . .because now he's something else. . .
Mike. Michael. Nick's older brother he'd only ever spoken about once to her.
Bree stepped back to stand shoulder to shoulder with Nick, somehow wanting to put more distance between herself and the stranger. He wasn't leaving though, despite what Nick had just said.
She turned her face towards Nick, feeling utterly helpless right then, with no idea what to do -- but found his eyes already on her.
And then Bree froze, realising that Nick's "Leave" hadn't been directed at his brother but at her. At Bree.
"What?" She blinked at him. "Nick--"
He pulled his hand from hers, ripping out his fingers from the tight grip they had on her own ones, and stepping away from her side. "Go, Bree," his voice was a touch softer than the harshness of his movements. "Go."
Bree had never brought up Michael after that one time Nick had mentioned him -- and Nick had never really spoken about him again. She'd figured it was a sore subject, but this still hurt.
Deep down, she was aware that this was like a punch to the gut for Nick himself. Because she doubted he ever expected to find his brother waiting on the doorstep -- literally at the doorstep -- for him.
But, for now, witnessing Nick send his walls flying back up around him and watching him slip back into that shell he once used to shield himself with hurt her in a way she didn't think was possible.
Bree saw the old Nick once more, caught a glimpse of the boy she met months and months back. She saw it in the tight set of his mouth, in the hardness around his eyes, in the tensed posture of his shoulders. The boy that had been scared, but cautious. The boy whose fears had been borderline paranoia.
She was watching him transform from the Nick he'd slowly unravelled himself to be, to the Nick from a lifetime ago -- she was watching it happen right in front of her eyes, with him being just an arm's distance away... and Bree could do abosultely nothing to stop it.
Bree was powerless.
Nick had pushed her away several times before, and Bree had always pushed back until he'd caved.
Nick was pushing her away again now -- but Bree was, for the first time in their forever, too afraid and uncertain to push back this time around.
So she surrendered to that uncertainty, to that flicker of doubt, and turned right around and walked away, breaking into a run as she neared the campus entrance.
She'd just have to brace herself for another fight past Nick's walls and armour again. Because she wasn't letting him slip away that easily.
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Nick wanted to carve out the image of the hurt look in Bree's eyes from his mind. And it wasn't that hard to forget about for now, not when there was a more pressing matter just a few feet away.
For one wild moment, he expected his father to step out of some hidden spot. Maybe he'd appear from around the corner of the dorm building. Maybe he'd pop up from behind Nick and make him feel stupid and careless for not spotting him earlier. Maybe--
"He's not here," Michael said, and Nick abosultely hated how he could just read him like an open book.
But Nick found that he couldn't quite respond, or use his voice in any way whatsoever. He didn't know what to say, if he should be saying anything -- and heck, he didn't want to dare risk speaking only to hear for himself that his voice shook or trembled. Because Nick didn't want to be shaken. Nick didn't want to tremble. He didn't want to feel anything.
He stood there, rendered speechless and motionless, not trusting himself to take a step back. Not trusting himself to take a step forward.
And maybe Michael sensed that about Nick too, because he was slowly rising to his feet, about to make a move when Nick was stuck not knowing how to proceed -- just like Michael had always done for him.
Nick watched with wary eyes, his shoulders growing painfully stiff with tension, as Michael took cautious steps towards him. As if he'd just found an injured animal, caught and caged in, and didn't want to scare it away with the slightest misstep.
Nick's breath stuttered when Michael reached him, not flinching away even when he reached out to place a hand against Nick's cheek -- because as much as he wanted to hate the guy and wrench his hand off him, Nick knew his brother wouldn't hurt him.
But could Nick afford to trust him that way right now? What if Mike just used it as leverage? What if he saw that as Nick's weakness and took adavantage of it? Nick knew that their father definitely would. Hell, Frank Crawford probably saw what remaining bond existed between the two brothers as a sign of weakness already.
Michael pressed his forehead against Nick's -- those familiar yet haunted eyes searching his own. "Hey," he said then, voice low and scratchy. "I missed you, little brother."
And right then it didn't matter whether he was Nick Fraser or Nicholas Crawford, because he felt his heart crack and shatter all the same.
Nick felt his shoulders drop on instinct, as if it was only natural for his entire being to respond to Michael this way -- his guards lowered, and defences dormant.
Lowered, but not gone. Dormant, but not down. Because no matter how non-threatening Mike came off as, Nick had to still keep himself on his toes. He couldn't afford blind trust and solid faith -- not now, not anymore.
So he clenched his fists and steeled himself, not willing to risk allowing any lingering sentiments to cloud his judgement.
And that thought sickened Nick -- because it made him sound so very much like his father.
That's what Frank Crawford would say, wouldn't he? That emotions did more damage than good. That survival wasn't built on love, or any feelings that came close to it.
Nick pulled away, turning his cheek to shrug off Michael's palm resting against it, and creating distance between them. He wouldn't give anybody from that side the satisfaction of seeing him break.
"Why are you here?" Nick asked finally, averting his gaze because he wasn't sure if he could maintain that aloof, cold exterior while meeting his brother's eyes.
There was an almost inaudible sigh from Mike. "For you," he answered. "Needed to talk."
"I don't want to talk," Nick said through clenched teeth, his pulse racing. "I want to be left alone."
"You are alone right now," Mike pointed out. "Unless I'm a crowd?"
"You're always a crowd," Nick snapped suddenly, his chest heaving as he whipped his head around to glare at Mike. "Wherever the hell you go, our father's not that far behind. What, did you bring him along for this reunion too?"
Michael's eyes flashed dangerously, and Nick had the sense to take a step back. He watched his brother's face harden, something like resignation settling in his eyes.
"I came alone," he said, voice sounding controlled. As if he was restraining his anger.
"One of dad's tactics?" Nick lifted his brow. "Does he think you can convince me of doing whatever the hell he's planned for me? Does he really think I'm weak enough to give in? Just because it's you here?"
"I'm pretty sure he hoped for it," Michael muttered, lifting one shoulder in a noncommittal shrug, his eyes sweeping their surroundings.
Nick laughed darkly. "Is that what this, then? A test?" His lips curled back in a bitter grimace. "He wants to know if the easy way will work with me before having to resort to his other methods?"
"Maybe," Michael said in that same dismissive manner, further infuriating Nick. "Though I think this was also a test for me. I think he wanted to see if I could do what was necessary to bring you back -- regardless of the fact that I..." Mike paused, and Nick watched his jaw clench. "Regardless of the fact that you happen to be my brother."
"You mean regardless of the fact that you care about me," Nick finished his earlier statement, feeling an unwanted pang in his chest.
Michael met his eyes, challenging him. "Do I?" He asked, tilting his head. "Maybe I'm just doing father's bidding after all. Like father, like son, right?"
"Fuck you, Mike," Nick seethed, suddenly able to feel his legs again as he moved to push past his brother.
Just as his shoulder collided into Mike's, Nick felt his arm being grabbed into a strong, ironclad grip, and then he was being whirled around, facing Michael's burning glare.
"You're the one who insinuated that I brought our father along with me here," he said heatedly, not allowing Nick to get away. "So don't give me your attitude."
"Yeah, well learn to deal with it," Nick hissed, tugging on his arm to get himself free of Mike's vice-like grip, but to no avail. "Let me go."
"I don't want to," Michael said, and Nick knew there was another meaning underlying those words. He wasn't just speaking of not letting go of Nick physically.
"Let me go, Mike," Nick repeated, deliberately not meeting his eyes, keeping his focus on trying to free his arm.
"You're my brother," he snapped, "How the fuck am I supposed to just let you go, you asshole?"
Nick closed his eyes, stopped fighting off Michael as he tried to focus on taking deep breaths instead.
He didn't want to have this conversation. He didn't want to go down this particular road. There was no version of a future where Nick and Michael could be siblings in the typical sense of the way.
"Why are you here?" Nick asked his earlier question again, opening his eyes and fighting to keep his voice steady.
"Like I said, because I needed to talk to you," Michael told him patiently.
Nick waited a beat. "Is he here?"
Michael's expression darkened with a flash of annoyance. "No," he said, "I told you. I'm here alone."
"Why?"
"He wants you back, what else?" Mike scoffed, letting go of Nick's arm gently and shaking his head to himself. "I... I asked him to let me try speaking to you, rather than having him bring you there by other means."
"What other means?"
"You're completely ignoring the part where I said I had to ask him to come here myself," Michael pointed out, apparently not about to let Nick get away with putting up a detached exterior. He seemed to be on a mission to make Nick feel that it was still his brother standing in front of him.
"Because that part makes no difference to me," Nick told him with a cold edge to his voice. He felt something rip through him at the visible flinch in Michael's eyes. But he couldn't afford to be weak -- Nick needed to self-preserve.
"It makes no difference to you that I cared enough to stop our father from getting to you in ways less favourable than this?"
"Nope," Nick shook his head, hoping that his voice didn't betray him. "I think it was just a way to ease your guilt -- you know, in case things got a little out of hand while somebody else dealt with bringing me back there. At least if you're the one doing it, you have control over what happens."
"You're an even bigger idiot than I thought if you actually believe that," Michael said, his voice low and angry now. But... There also seemed to be a touch of sadness in there that Nick didn't want to hear.
"I am an idiot," Nick murmured, looking past Mike's shoulder. "Or at least, I was. Only an idiot would've thought his brother would choose him over their psychotic father and a lifestyle of violence and crime."
At that, Michael grew eerily quiet. Even the breeze that'd been blowing around them seemed to have ceased in its soft whispers.
"Not making the mistake of letting myself believe you'll have my back again, Mike," Nick told him, his voice finally cracking. "We could've been free from that life. We could've been free from him. We had two options and you picked the one that gave you the life you loved the most -- and it wasn't the one where I could be happy."
Nick met Michael's eyes, saying the words he'd had engraved in his heart for far too long, "You picked to stand by who you loved the most," his breath caught, choking his voice, "And it wasn't me."
"Yes," Michael said after a long stretch of silence, "And I'd do it again, Nick."
The words were like a slap to his face and Nick actually stumbled back a few steps. He'd known this the entire time, ever since Mike had followed in their father's footsteps without any reservations. But it still stung like hell to hear the words from his own mouth.
"But that doesn't mean I'm not here with genuine concern," Mike said, eyeing Nick warily. He didn't try to move closer or bridge the gap between them, and Nick was grateful for it. If Mike tried to step any closer, Nick was positive he'd end up throwing a punch. "You'll need to come home," he said, "He made it clear there's no room for argument."
Nick shook his head, slow and determined. "That can never be home," he told Michael, all the fight having left his body at his brother's stinging confession. "Not to me." And then his eyes widened, "Mum." His breathing quickened. "Mum. Is she--"
"She's fine," Michael murmured. "Worry about yourself."
"Been doing that since forever," Nick returned, looking away. There was a beat of silence. "You need to leave, Michael. Go back to where you came from, okay?"
"Not without you," Michael replied, his mind seeming made up.
"Michael," Nick sighed heavily, "I'm never coming back there -- do you understand?"
"Doesn't matter what I understand or not, because our dear father never will," he shrugged. "He will have you back there, Nick. Either by you walking in on your own will, or by having you dragged in with this new life burnt down to the ground. It's up to you whether you want to do this the hard way or the easy way." Michael took a step back, his eyes not giving anything away about what he was feeling. "I'm just the messenger, Nick. But if it's easier for you to hate me, then hate me. I've been putting up with that shit from you for a while now."
"I'm not the one that came here to do our father's bidding," Nick snapped.
"And I'm not the one who ran away and left his brother behind," Michael spat back, before taking in a deep breath and gaining back his composure. "Not that it matters now -- seeing as I'm still a part of this life and you're still running." He turned around with a shake of his head. "I'll try knocking some sense in your head again -- when you're not still reeling from the shock of seeing me here and have a clearer mind."
Nick watched Michael leave, his chest confusedly constricting at the sight of one of them walking away from the other yet again.
He brought his hand to his chest, rubbing his fingers against that spot in the centre again, wondering why this still hurt him -- wondering when he'd no longer feel the pain at a physical level.
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thank you so much for reading❤