Trigger Warning: This chapter contains scenes of domestic violence and intense family conflict. Reader discretion is advised.
Chapter 2 - Broken ties
Izaya's heart pounded in his chest as he watched Oliver's fragile body miraculously evade the charging horse. The sheer shock of the accident paralyzed him for a fleeting moment, but anger swiftly coursed through his veins, igniting a furious inferno within him.
"Father! You monster! How could you?" Izaya's voice trembled as he unleashed his pent-up fury.
With rage, he pushed their drunken, menacing parent, a burning determination to avenge his brother driving him forward. The scene attracted a growing crowd of onlookers, their murmurs and gasps filling the air. But Izaya payed no mind to the gathering throng; his sole focus was on getting Oliver to safety.
He rushed to his fallen brother's side, helping him up with trembling hands. His brother was pale from haid to toe, and his lips kept quivering.
He took his hand and Oliver seemed to regain light in his eyes, his expression changing from concern to relief .
Together they fled the growing spectacle, the echo of their father's furious shouts and the distant clamor of the gathering crowd fading behind them. They ran and ran until the village's familiar houses came into view, their refuge from the horrors of the city.
Izaya's heart ached with the weight of his brother's accident as they returned home.
Their mother, a picture of surprise and concern, greeted them, her eyes wide with anticipation. Izaya recounted the horrors they had just witnessed in the city, and their mother looked at her sons with an apologitic gaze, her heart sank as she listened to their harrowing tale.
Tears welled up in her eyes, and she kept apologizing, not only for what they had been through, but also for fear of the meaning behind Oliver's relieved face that didn't waver as Izaya recounted their ordeal.
"I'm so sorry, my darlings," she whispered, her voice quivering with a mix of fear and sorrow, as she enveloped them in a warm, trembling embrace.
But their moment of fragile comfort was shattered when their father staggered into the house, his volatile rage unrelenting.
As he turned his fury towards them, Izaya and Oliver bore the brunt of their father's wrath, their bodies absorbing the physical blows while their spirits were crushed beneath the weight of his verbal tirades. He was so furious of what happened in the city that he egan questioning that they were even his children as they couldn't even do what he asked.
Their mother launched herself at him telling them to hide, bearing no heed to her own body, Izaya's heart twisted with a paralyzing mixture of horror and helplessness.
Oliver, however, was different. His anger, still simmering from the recent events, refused to be extinguished. In a moment of raw, impulsive fury, he snatched a broken glass bottle from the floor and thrust it into their father's back. Their father's agonized hunch and retaliatory kick sent Oliver harshly backwards and his back colided against the wall, but the burning wrath in his eyes remained undiminished.
His hands found Oliver's throat, mercilessly squeezing the life out of him. Izaya, shaken from his initial shock, grasped another discarded bottle and brought it crashing down onto their father's head. With a thunderous thud, their father's grip faltered, and he crumpled to the floor, unmoving.
The room was steeped in an eerie silence, broken only by the erratic rhythm of their own terrified breaths. Oliver and Izaya locked eyes, their shared horror and relief mingling as they clung to each other, tears streaming down their faces.
After several minutes of inconsolable weeping, their mother finally stirred. Her eyes darted around the room, catching sight of the lifeless figure on the floor. An anguished cry escaped her lips, and she rushed to her children's side, enveloping them in a tender, tearful embrace.
And once again she, kept apologizing, trying to reassure them that it wasn't their fault.
They left the lifless body as it was and stayed in another room, and in the next morning, together, they made the grim decision to bury their father, a man who had brought them nothing but misery.
They lived for a few days on their mother's savings that she hid away from from their father, providing a temporary lifeline. But their peace was tragically short-lived, for a week later, their mother fell gravely ill.
They remained faithfully by her side, their love and care unwavering, as they watched her weaken day by day. Izaya earnestly took care of her, knowing that these were his last moments with her. He studied her features, cleaned her skin several times a day, and massaged her feet and arms until she fell asleep.
Oliver, on the other hand, showered her with kisses and words of love. The boy felt too guilty for his mother's misfortune, even though his brother assured him that this was not the case. He couldn't help but blame himself, as all of this had started when he threw himself in front of the wagon. Perhaps he could have found a better way, a way to save both his mother and brother. Perhaps if he wasn't such a coward, he could have confronted his father earlier.
After three heart-wrenching days, their mother succumbed to her fate, leaving Oliver and Izaya orphaned, alone in a world that had shown them nothing but cruelty.
In her final moments, their mother left them with parting words. As she lay on her bed, each of her sons on one of her sides, she parted her thin and shredded lips.
« M-My children, Izaya and Oliver, I love you s-so much. Huff* I-I am sorry to leave you so you young. Izaya, my boy, you are the oldest, care for your brother, and Oliver, listen well to your brother, p-please don't bear your burdens alone, confide to each other. Huff* O-Oliver, my child, your r-real father, a kind man h-he will accept you, Huff*, he is a duke, y-your name O-Oliver, will guide you, Huff*, I-Izaya, you two are brothers, e-even if Huff* your fathers differ... »
« Mother ? » Izaya was the first one to speak, his eyes flodding with tears, Oliver shook his mother befor crying out her name, and when she didn't respond they broke into a pit of sobs and wails, they clung to her desperatly as if she were their lifeline.
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Oliver oppened his eyes and realized he must have fallen aspleep, he looked at his bother, at his chest that was lifting up and down, then back at his mother, her skin was pale, and chest unmoving, she looked peiceful.
His mother died on his birthday.