AMERIICAN REQUIEM
✹
"SHARED FAILURE."
// ONE

" WELL, DON'T YOU LOOK LIKE SHIT?" Wyatt Dutton hums, molars ripping apart the toothpick in his mouth. The wood splintering, poking into the soft flesh of his cheek, one arm extending to hold his weight against the hand on the bonnet of the truck.

There's a soft buzz around them, glancing at the people who stand by the trucks and cars parked beside his. Laugher and affection rings through the air, cutting through the sound of planes and engines. It doesn't reach as far as the two siblings, neither attempting to close the space between them.

Wren Dutton hadn't seen her brother in almost a year and a half. She hadn't seen anyone bearing the same name and in some cases, the same eyes as her since the thanksgiving before last. When she brought herself back out for the weekend, to play the momentary happy families she could stomach before getting the next plane back to New York. Which was ten minutes into thanksgiving dinner, if anyone wanted to know.

Her fingers softly padding on her cheekbone, hoping to press in the concealer she had applied in the bathroom only five minutes ago further into her skin. Kicking the bottom of her sneaker against the piece of gravel on the sidewalk, lifting one hand to hide her face from the sun. No longer having the skyline of New York to hide it for her.

" good to know we still have a resemblance then." she tells him, her tone shorter than it use to be with the brother closest to her. If not in age, then in almost everything else.

He snorts, head tilting back as a soft laugh mingles with the drawl that pulls his lip down as he speaks " damn wren, all those manhattan martinis washed the south right off your tongue."

She smiles at that, a slight annoyance creeping into her that she does. As he lets out a small cough, lifting up from bonnet and walking over.

" as much as I love this attempt at small talk."he mocks softly as he grabs her couple suitcases by the handle with ease, placing them in the back of the truck " I got a job to get back to."

Wren hums, walking around the front of the car. Head turning and eyes lingering a little too long on the people hugging beside the truck. Crawling back into the passenger seat of the truck she could remember being in at an age that her feet struggling to brush the floor of.

Subconsciously flickering the mirror down to press against the delicate skin of her aching skin. Acting like she was running it under her eye to catch flaked mascara as her brother gets into the truck beside her.

The low sound of the local radio station rings through the air to try and fill the sound of conversations that should be flowing.

Conversation that wouldn't come as easy as they both wouldn't admit they wanted it to. He wouldn't ask about her work, how she liked New York, and especially not her husband. And she wouldn't ask him about the ranch, about if he had met anyone, and especially not their father.

" shit, this ain't suppose to this awkward is it?" Wyatt runs the back of his hand over his mouth, poorly concealing his awkwardness that translates to a laugh " Beth at least makes some bitchy comment before we drive in this sorta silence."

The woman looks at him, " how is she?" as he replies with another laugh bordering mania and shrugs.

" Hell, I should be askin' you that!" he comments, tapping his fingers against the wheel " she's the only one of us that you'll talk to on a day the bank is open."

A soft scoff falling from her lips "that's not fair wylie..." the tension in her voice falters at her childhood nickname for him. Too young to say 'wyatt-Lee' so regurgitated it into a nickname that their siblings caught onto, and proceeded to torment him with until his early adolescence.

He shrugs his shoulders, simply stating in reply "yeah maybe not," his glance looking past her as he pulls onto the intersection "but its the truth ain't it though wren?"

She wriggles in her seat, fingers reaching to fidget with the band of her wedding ring — feeling displaced as she pinches at the skin of her finger instead.

" what brings you back then? thought you liked city life." Wyatt gives her a tilted look as one hand rests on the wheel and the other tapping at the side of the door as he drives in the quiet traffic of the early morning, " last I heard you were saving lives in some fancy private hospital."

Her mind hums to a different place than her mouth as she shrugs her shoulders " just needed to get out for bit."

Wyatt acknowledges her comment with a laugh "that's exactly what you said to me the night you left." he told her, watching as her head dipped to look at her lap " you always need to escape, hell I don't know what for..."

His sister lifts her head to look at him with a downturn of her lips that unlike her smiles, reached her eyes "you knew what for."

Brows lifting at her statement, as his nose scrunched with a sniff as he glanced back at the road.

" and what does your husband think about you traipsing back to the place he probably flouts around wall street saying he so heroically saved you from?" his voice is tough, always is but noticeably so when talking about Aaron Jackson.

A roughness noticeable in his younger sister's voice as she shakes her head " honestly, I don't give a fuck what he thinks."

His head turns slightly, registering the soft jitter in the leg closest to his as she watches the world move by down the highway "hmm, trouble in paradise i see."

Snorting "I'm burning the whole fucking lot down." she tells him, the quake in her voice shaken off with the shake of her head " I'm leaving him wylie,"

She doesn't wait for the comment of her brother before taking another breath, "but every divorce lawyer knows every other lawyer in manhattan." she tells him, " and I don't want him to know until those papers arrive at his office."

That brings his eyes back to his little sister, who jaw tenses slightly. A soft jitter shakes the muscle fibres from not so soft memories of the last year.

Wyatt sniffs " he's not gonna like that" he asks, "cause from what I remember, he has had a fuckin' collar around you since you were nineteen."

His reply a shake of the brunette who hums " he probably don't even know that I left New York yet."

His steady eyes watch her ones that aren't so for a moment longer before looking back to the road, his grip clamping around the wheel a little tighter.

Not looking at the woman beside him as he lowers his voice slightly, " he hurt you?" he asks the question he doesn't really want to know the answer to. It's more of a need, he knew the man she married wasn't a good one — he just let it pass because he thought he would be a good one to her.

Her head shakes, despite the many times that pass by her mind that prove otherwise as the question slips from her brother's lips " not anymore than people before him have."

A not so silent silence fills the truck in the same way it had since they were twenty. When she left, when they lost touch. Because he hated the man who seemingly had her orbiting around him, and her because she couldn't see anything but him.

" always talkin' in fucking code." Wyatt mutters, wiping a hand over his mouth again.

It was Naivety mixed with the gentle touches that she had never felt before, that felt so foreign that she devoted herself to the first person who brushed against her.

But she was older now, the woes of whatever she had called love at twenty one had died a long time ago, and those soft touches turned brutal along with it.

IT WAS LIKE SEEING A GHOST. except instead of a translucent figure hiding in dark corners of night, it stood proud and very much alive. The pillars that held the entirety of the Dutton ranch for the last hundred years or so. The walls that concealed so many secrets that it could secrete them all with one hack of an axe.

Generations of her bloodline had stood where she did now, staring at the building that would house successors of the place she called home. Herself included.

Wren wondered, as her eyes squinted and her mouth parted as heavy breath passed through them, did anyone feel the same as her? Feel the ache that was born into her bones, feel the heaviness against their chest? Or was she first? But she definitely wouldn't be the last.

A heavy hum of a voice she recognised calls up from the lawn " look what the alley cat dragged in!" Lee Dutton gazes at his youngest sister, adjusting the brim of his hat.

She spins to face him, he doesn't change. Never has — except his skin is more wrinkled, both by his age and the sun damage that he endured after his sister wasn't there. Flicking through magazine on the porch to hum about the long-term effect of sun damage.

Her lips curve, into a softer smile than one she's wore in the last couple months " fuck off," she tells him, but it's not rude. It's soft as Lee's ruggedness mutates into a laugh and smile as he walks towards the shorter one of the two.

An arm running around her shoulders, pulling her in the same way he had done for the first eighteen years of her life. His chin still sitting perfectly on top of her head " missed ya kid."

Wren hums, trying to push away the mingle of fear at the collision of contact. Trying to steady the heart she could feel pace in her chest cavity, "what, not enough trouble without me here?

Lee hums, pulling away as his hand moves to mess up her hair — " oh, plenty of trouble wren..." he tells her "just none of it makes me laugh as much as when you were the one making it."

She stands there, watching him for a second longer — a warmth that wasn't coming from the sun spreading over her, faking a soft cough as she places her hands on her hips.

" where's dad?" voice humming as Lee gestures to the lodge behind them " last I saw, he was stitching himself in the kitchen."

Wyatt letting out a soft scoff, appearing from the doorway " shit, he still ain't seen a doctor?" he says, his hands wiping against each other.

" you know dad, stubborn as a fuckin' bull." Lee tells them, as Wren nods her head — placing her hair behind her ear as she glances back at the building.

Eyes wandering back to her brother " better go say hi." she hums softly, feet moving with the gravel as she steps away, turning to walk up to the front door.

" hey wren?" Lee calls out, making his younger spin back around to face him.

" yeah?"

He shrugs, " next time you leave in the middle of the night," he says softly despite the ache in his chest at the memory "let me know?"

She doesn't reply, turning back around to the front  door of the lodge — it opens to the silence that quakes through the lodge, it never use to be like that. She could recount days she'd come back from school or the yard and hear voices. Whether it was the squabbles of Beth and Jamie, the scuffle of dirty boots of Kayce and Wyatt which would earn the calls of her father, that belonged once to her mother.

But now, you can hear the steps in the creaking floorboards more clearly. Wren can hear the soft groans and muffled curses of her father.

" that looks infected," her body leans in the doorway, watching the older man who sits on a chair in front of a small mirror. Tweezers most likely plucked from his bathroom counter, washed under hot water and called 'sterilised' gripped in his fingers.

John Dutton's gruff voice makes a noise resembling laugher as his head turns. A smile pricks on the corners of his lips as he watches his youngest child in the lodge. A ache he'll put to his old age at now misplaced she looks stood in it.

Her jeans were clean, the collar of her white shirt hidden by the top buttoning of a red cardigan. Bracelets on her wrist poking out the material as her arms crossed. Everything about her fresh, clean, everything about her looked like nothing around them.

" you can tell that from all the way over there huh honey?" John asks, as his daughter nods her head with a small smile.

" you would've wasted all that money on my college if I couldn't." she replies, watching as her father lets out another groan as he struggles.

Stepping forward, one foot hooking around a stool by his side. Taking a seat as a soft huff leaves her mouth " here, let me."

Not wanting to look at her father who watches her as she takes the reins. The left side of her top teeth gently bite into the corner of her bottom lip as she looks at the attempt of a stitch he had tried to make.

" always knew it would handy, having a doctor in the family." he murmurs.

Wren nodding as she began to threat through the thread through his wound, "especially when you seem to adamant on not going to a hospital." she inspects the bruising around it "how long you been walking around with an open wound daddy?"

The man brushes it off, sniffling " doctors ask too many questions, questions lead to many things I can't answer honey." he informs, like she didn't already know secrets were as common in this place as grass in the fields.

Her head tilts, delicate with her hands as she stitches the wound " momma would have killed you for leaving this if she were still here."

Her voice lowers to a whisper, unintentionally as she speaks about the woman she sometimes fails to recollect. She was only three, barely even that old when it happened. Catching glances of the woman who grew her in conversations with her siblings, little inside jokes around the dinner table that she'd make herself laugh with the rest of her family to try and jog something inside of her.

John breathes out, humming as he speaks softly
" you got her hands you know?"

Wren shakes her head, smiling softly " I don't think that's how dna works dad.." she tells him,

John watching his daughter for a little bit longer, noting each feature which was passed to her by Evelyn.

She definitely had inherited her mother's smile, the colour of her eyes and the softness in them when she felt safe. John never wanted that softness to disappear from her eyes like it had done some of his other children. Yet, as he watched her, he couldn't see it as clearly as he once could. It was glossed over by things she wouldn't say willingly.

"why you back sweetheart?" he asks, noticing the soft furrow of his daughter's eyebrows. It was no surprise that one day his youngest would leave, all the children drifted away as they grew up.

But Wren was the first one that left a mark on the place. It was coming, they all knew that. Her siblings had spent the year prior trying to pry her out of whatever grip some guy had on her. But with each ache of her four brother's hands with each pull, she only recoiled further into the arms of the man they were trying to help her escape from.

She was the baby after all, the last baby born to Evelyn and John Dutton. The one that the baby's before her needed to protect. Even as she grew, Wren remained the delicate one. The world threw itself at the other five children, but they had wrapped themselves around their younger sister to keep her away from it. And her leaving was their shared failure. It still quakes at family events where her chair sits empty, a place still set even if they all know nobody's coming to fill it.

A soft mocking laugh passing her lips " you spent the last five years tryna' get me home and now you're not pleased I'm back." she comments.

John scoffs, shaking his head " I'm happy you're home sweetheart, don't get that twisted." Wren not looking at her dad to read how much he meant it in his eyes " you just, seemed a little upset when you called last night."

But with most things with her father, she can't fight it — dropping the needle as she shakes her head. Forcing a tight lipped smile on her lips that makes the rest of her face ache " I'm fine daddy, I promise."

Wren turns her head at footsteps, Jamie walking into the family room — a stark contrast to his father and sister as he stands in his suit.

Arms folding at the scene he walked into " well, look who's back." he says, his voice alone making his sister's eyes roll as she wets her lips.

" look who's still sleeping in the same room he was born in." she quips back, "gotta leave the nest some time Jamie, no matter how much of a daddy's boy you are."

Jamie's body tenses at the mocking, stepping further into the room " I need to talk to dad." he says, his pleasantries only momentary.

Wren humming, turning back to her dad as she continues to clean the wound.

" go ahead." she said, knowing what he meant yet not listening.

Jamie fakes a cough " Alone Wren." he hums "I need to talk to dad alone."

Wren looked at her father who was already watching her, with a soft nod of his head it was clear it was a dismissal. The woman dropping the needle back on the table.

" fine, although I doubt anything you have to say is anything I'm gonna be interested in." she stands up, placing the needle and thread down to look at her father.

" I'm gonna go unpack, but come and get me if Jamie can't stitch it." she said, walking past her brother who body tensed as she walked by, forcing her lips into a tight smile.

" from what I remember he has a tendency to be a bit messy."

ELLIE SPEAKS

happy first chapter!! if you've read this book before you'll realise things look a little (a lot) different — but I'm a sucker for complex characters and family dynamics so here we are!!

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