Morgan sat on his bed reading Cold Fire, his favorite Dean Koontz novel that he could recite by heart, when a knock sounded at his door. "Yeah?"
He was surprised to see his brother appear when the door opened. He had his arms crossed and his head down and Morgan noted he looked nervous.
"What's up?" Morgan asked with a small frown.
"Can I come in?" His voice sounded strange to his brother. Quiet. Shaky.
"Sure."
Fox shut the door behind him with a soft click before sitting on the bed. Leaning forward he braced his arms on his knees and looked around the room as if seeing it for the first time. "I wanted to talk to you...I've been working up to it for the last week or so, I just...haven't had the guts to come and talk to you." Morgan frowned but didn't say anything, knowing Fox had more to say.
"I've been a real bastard toward you since the shooting. You don't deserve that, Morgan, and I'm...I'm sorry. I took something from you that you can never get back. And that wasn't your fault, Morgan." His voice faltered and he closed his eyes, willing himself to go on.
"I'm not making excuses for my treatment of you. There are none to make. Though I was hoping that maybe I could..." A tear slipped free from his eyes and he looked down at his folded hands. "I...I'm still in that hallway, Morgan. Every day of my life for the past five years, I've been walking down that hallway and finding River dead on the floor." He wiped his eyes again and Morgan noticed the tight grip he had on his hands, clasped together as they were.
"And I've been so fucking scared..."
"Of what?" Morgan asked gently.
"That you and Mom and Dad would see...that you would see what I see. That you would know...so I pushed all of you away. I pushed you away the most. And I know you didn't and don't understand why." He paused before, "I thought the it was the best thing for you at the time. But in hindsight, I realize that that was the worse thing for me to do. And I'm so fucking sorry, Morgan. If I could change it...I would...I can only hope that I can fix what I can..."
"What are you so afraid of I'll see and know? So much so that it caused you to...treat me like you have." Morgan's voice broke then and Fox looked over at him. "All I've wanted is my big brother back."
"I know. Now I know."
"So, what then?" Morgan sniffled and wiped his face, trying to control his emotions.
"That it's my fault, Morgan. He's dead because of me. And...his blood is all over me. It's on my hands it's on my skin... and I see it...every time I look at myself, I see it." He opened his hands and stared into his palms. His eyes snapped upward when Morgan took his hands in his own.
"Fox...let me ask you something, okay?" At his nod, Morgan continued, "Did you shoot River? Did you give that kid that gun and tell him 'go shoot my brother'?"
"No."
"Then it isn't your fault." Morgan didn't bother wiping his eyes as he said this, his hands never leaving his brother's.
"But you don't know what happened," Fox argued.
"Then tell me."
***
"Hey, did you get your math homework done for Mr. Dexter's class?" River asked Fox as they approached the lockers.
"Yeah. Need to copy it?" Fox grinned at his brother.
River smiled sheepishly and nodded. "Yeah. I was kinda caught up last night."
"Fucking your girlfriend doesn't count, River," Fox told him with laugh. "Fuck her after your studies and you won't have to worry about it."
River rolled his eyes and shoved his brother's shoulder, both of them laughing.
Their laughter soon died as shots erupted through the air and the student body began screaming and running and every direction.
Fox pulled on River's arm, shouting, "Fuck, River, run!"
***
"I ran into the girl's restroom that was quite a bit down from our lockers. There were several kids in there already...huddled together..."
***
Fox looked at the students, arms wrapped around each other, cries echoing quietly in the room. Turning to where he thought River was, was stunned that he wasn't there.
"River?" He turned in a full circle, his heart beating wildly when his twin was nowhere to be seen.
Without thought he went for the door before hands were gripping him, pulling him back. He fought the hands but was overpowered and held there until silence permeated the air. When released, as he was held down until the final shot, Fox jumped up from the restroom floor and ran back to where he'd last seen his brother.
He found him easily enough, lying there on his back, his shirt soaking with spilled blood, his shirt torn where the bullets ripped through muscle, bone, tissue and fabric.
***
"It's not your fault, Fox. How could that be your fault?"
Fox's tears came a bit faster. "Because I left him there. I should have made sure he was behind me. I shouldn't have let go of his hand. We both should have survived, Morgan, or neither of us should have. And I'm here and he's not and I shouldn't be...I shouldn't be!"
Morgan pulled his brother to him then, hugging him like he'd wanted to hug him for years, but never daring to. "No, you shouldn't be. I need my big brother. If I can't have both of you, I still need you." His breath hitched as he buried his face against Fox's shoulder. "There's so much you still need to teach me. Guide me through like only a big brother can." A sob escaped him and he grilled tighter to Fox, feeling very much like a small child seeking protection from the boogie man who his in the darkest shadows of his room. "I want my brother back, Fox. I want you back."
Morgan sat up then and wiped his eyes, however futile it may have been. "Fox?"
"Yeah, kid?"
"Do you still love me? I know I'm not River, but...do you still love me anyway?" Morgan's blue eyes, eyes of their mother, shined at him with a myriad of emotional upheavals and fears. The question broke Fox's heart, as did the look in the boy's eyes.
"I never stopped loving you, Morgan. I'm sorry for everything. I didn't know how else to cope with it all but to do it alone. Because that's what I deserve."
"Well, fucking stop it, already. I need you now. I lost both of you that day, Fox. And it's been so much worse with you than losing River 'cause you're here...but you're not...and I need my brother back." Morgan cried softly into his brother's arms, who pulled him, this time, into his chest.
"I'll be better, Morgan. I'll be the brother I started out to be, I promise."
"That's all I want," Morgan whispered brokenly, clutching the hero he still looked up to, even if in secret.
"So, a few days ago I mended fences with my brother. He's fourteen. We had a long talk...we cried and hugged...and he forgave me. I've been a fucking bastard to him the last five years. Sorry, Littia." He smiled at the elderly lady and everyone shared a laugh.
"I told him things I've never told anyone...and it was freeing. Before the shooting, he was just a little kid. Not quite ten yet...and he was always at our sides. River's and mine. Afterward...I...I was so angry...I push them all away, but no one more than him.
"And I know now that I shouldn't have done what I did...I know I went about things the wrong way and with him. He didn't understand. All he saw was his big brother, his hero, turn away from him when his other brother and hero was killed." Fox took a deep breath, once more searching out Kennedy for the needed strength to get through this last part. Kennedy nodded in encouragement, a small smile and a look of pride in his eyes as he did so.
"He asked me if I still loved him. And that question...the look on his face and the tears in his eyes...broke my heart. But since then...the last few days...have been good. We've been spending time together like we used to... he's still a bit cautious, but...I'd say that a little bit of progress at least."
Fox smiled wide as everyone in the group clapped their hands and his back, congratulating him on making another step in the healing department.
At the meeting's conclusion, Fox caught up with Kennedy halfway to his car. He wondered why he didn't wait up for him like he usually did. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah. What's up?" Kennedy asked him. The look on his face told Fox that he was anything but okay, however didn't press it.
"Morgan has a game tomorrow. Starts at four. I wanted to see if you wanted to come with."
Kennedy smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Sure. That sounds fun. Morgan is a good kid, I like him."
"He likes you, too. Are you sure you're okay?" Fox took a step closer, placing his palm gently against a stubble-roughed cheek, his thumb tracing Kennedy's high cheekbones. "You can talk to me, you know."
Kennedy took his hand and held it against his face, leaning into the touch like he craved it. "I know. But I can't right now."
Fox nodded. "Okay. Call me if you need me, okay?"
"Okay." As he watched Fox walk back to the concrete steps where we met his mother, Kennedy spoke softly enough no one else could hear. "I do need you. There in lies the problem."
The next afternoon there was a knock at 3:30 on Fox's front door. Fox came bounding down the stairs at the knocking, jumping over the last four steps to the landing. He was grinning widely as he answered the door and Kennedy couldn't help but to smile in return.
"Hey," Fox grinned wider. "Come in. I'm almost ready. Everyone is already at the field, so it's just us."
Kennedy nodded as he stepped inside and looked around. Inside was nicely furnished with high-end furniture, expensive, yet cozy looking. On the far wall in the living room was a mounted a sixty inch smart t.v. that wasn't turned on. Just under that was a grand, stone chimney. Lined along the walls were family and candid photos. Kennedy stopped at one of them and smiled.
The picture showed two boys about the age of fourteen, arms around each other and grinning widely at the camera. Their matching clothes and caps indicated they were at a baseball game. Kennedy could see the closeness of the two boys, the connection they shared plain as day. Fox and River were identical twins, but as Kennedy looked at them, he could still pick out Fox between the two.
"That was a good day." Kennedy jumped, engrossed in the picture as he was, at the sound of Fox's voice next to him. "It was our birthday. Dad took us to the Astro's game. They won and River caught a home run. Afterward we went out to eat." Fox paused for a moment percing his lips together. "I really miss him." Fox leaned into Kennedy's side, his forehead coming to rest on his shoulder. He sighed heavily before standing upright. "Come on. We better go."
As he started to walk past him for the front door, Kennedy caught his hand. The look that had taken residence in his eyes pulled at Kennedy's heartstrings. "Come'ere." And gently pulled Fox into his arms.
Fox hugged him tightly, his arms anchored around him as he tried to regain control over his emotions. When he pulled away, Fox smiled at him as they walked out to Kennedy's SUV and headed for the game.
They arrived at the ballpark with just enough time to grab food and drinks and sit down before the first pitch was thrown. They cheered loudly when Morgan stepped up to the plate, causing the boy to smile as he settled himself into the batter's box. The pitch was perfectly thrown. A high and outside change-up that, when Morgan swung, connected beautifully with the barrel of the bat, sending the ball flying high and long. The outfielder gave chase, but he soon realized there was no point as the ball flew over the fence.
The crowd jumped up and roared with cheers as their room took the lead at the bottom of the fourth with Morgan's three-run home run. As the boy went across the plate looked up over at his big brother in the stands and grinned proudly at him, walking back to the dugout with his head held that much higher.
Kennedy smiled and nudged Fox with his shoulder. "Seems like the talk y'all had did some good, huh?"
Fox smiled an almost shy smile, ducked his head and nodded. "Yeah. We're making our way back to each other. Sometimes it's all still a bit awkward, but...I think that's 'cause we're both still a little unsure around each other, but I think it'll pass."
Kennedy smiled at him, glad that he was getting this part of himself back. "That's really great. I'm happy for you. And I'm sure it will pass. Just give it some time." Fox nodded, grinning.
After the game, Morgan came running up to them, excited as a kid Christmas morning when he spied all his spoils under the tree. "Did you see that hit?" he asked with all the enthusiasm he could muster.
Fox smiled at him and wrapped his arm around the boy's shoulders. "I did. And what a great hit it was! I am certain that that home run won the game."
Morgan smiled a prideful smile at the compliment. "Thanks, Fox." He looked to Kennedy and smiled at him. "It's good to see you again, Kennedy."
Kennedy smiled at him. "It was good to see you again, too. You played damned well tonight." The boy grinned before looking back to his brother. "Thank you for coming."
Fox's throat clogged momentarily and he pulled the boy into him for a strong hug. "Thank you for wanting me to come."
As they watched the boy walk away, Kennedy turned to Fox and asked, "Hungry? Wanna go grab something to eat?"
Fox smiled. "Yeah, sounds good." Fox moved in a bit closer to him to whisper in his ear, "Then maybe we can go back to your house." Lightly he bit and sucked on Kennedy's neck and was pleased when the other man groaned. "I've missed you."
Fox could feel Kennedy's body responding to him in ways that made him want to forgo food...and eat something else instead.
Kennedy pulled away with a grin, "Vixen." Fox laughed and taking Kennedy's hand, began walking toward the car. Fox smiled at him and Kennedy smiled back, even as his gut wrenched and anxieties spiked. He tightened his grip just slightly around Fox's hand as he realized the depth of his feelings for this man, how fast they came on, and how much that scared the ever living fuck out of him.
He'd always vowed never to let anyone this close. To never give anyone else the chance to leave him. To never love anyone so deeply again that when they did eventually leave, he would not feel so ripped to shreds over their absence. The very prospect of total abandonment from someone he loves was something that shook him to his very core. It was something that very nearly killed him once, and he didn't think he could handle it again.
He knew his own fragility, even if he didn't readily show it to the outside world. He knew. When they got into the car, he paused before putting it in gear, frowning slightly, his lips poised as if about to say something.
Upon his hesitation, Fox asked, "You okay?"
"Do you think we can order something from my place? Just...have dinner there?"
Fox noted he seemed a bit jumpy. "Yeah, of course. Hey," Fox reached over, playing with the hairs on the back of his neck. "Why are you shaking?"
It was then Kennedy realized he was indeed shaking. "I don't know. It's okay, though. I'm okay." It seemed to Fox like he was trying to convince himself of this factoid than Fox, but Fox didn't comment.
Along the drive, Fox kept an eye on Kennedy as covertly as he could. Something was bothering him now that hadn't been before. At least not to this extreme. Being able to read body language was something that Fox always prided himself on. He noticed Kennedy's grip on the steering wheel, the grief muscle working on his forehead, the tight set of his jaw and steering arm. He noticed the clear signs of stress and the look of disparity in his eyes.
Fox set his hand over Kennedy's and he instantly turned his hand to lace their fingers together. Fox noticed that his grip was tighter than necessary and the move worried him. Not out of fear of physical violence or domination; he didn't think Kennedy would ever hurt him.
Not like that. But even as they drove and Kennedy clung to him in the only way he could while driving, Fox felt that something was just around the riverbend.