Wait to start the song.
***Major trigger warning for gore, suicidal thoughts, and blood oaths. Don't read this if you're sensitive to that.***

The house wasn't much different than it had been the last time Josh had been here, but he wasn't really looking around much either. There was only one thing he was looking for, and it wasn't going to be in plain sight. No. His father kept it hidden when he wasn't using it. Luckily, his father had trusted him with its location a long time ago.

Taking the stairs two at a time, Josh revelled in the refreshing lack of fear he felt. Right now, he was relieved. He was home, and this would be his last stop before he could follow in his father's footsteps in the only way that mattered.

Josh hadn't been allowed to enter his parents' bedroom as a child. It was his father's temple-or at least that's what he'd been told. Now that he was older, he understood that his father just didn't want him walking in on him while he was hurting his mother. Just because Josh saw taking spouses forcefully as disgusting but unavoidable for the consummation, he knew his father saw it as a necessity each time. He had to. He was the prophet.

Still, Josh opened his parents' bedroom door and went inside. Instinctually, Josh walked quietly through the room before he remembered that he was alone. No one was going to yell at him. For a little bit longer, he was safe.

Josh went to his father's side of the bed and lifted the mattress, reaching under it. He slid his fingers inside the hole on the underside of the mattress, feeling around for what he'd been looking for.

"Looking for this?" A voice asked.

Josh yanked his hand out of the mattress and flipped around, his heart pounding violently against his ribs. He let out a sigh of relief what he saw who it was.

"What the fuck are you doing here, Jordan?" Josh asked breathlessly.

His little brother shrugged, holding his father's dagger out to him. "Probably the same thing as you."

"I doubt that," Josh muttered as he took the knife and left the room.

He went into his old bedroom, where he saw that someone had drawn two eyes on the wall in blood. Below it was messy writing that read,

We're safe. We love you. -Pete + Patrick

Josh slowly walked over to the message, touching it softly. The blood flaked off beneath his fingers. It had been a while since they'd been here.

"That's been here for a few months," Jordan told him as he climbed onto his big brother's bed. "You think they're still alive?"

"I don't know," Josh replied quietly.

"You came here to kill yourself, didn't you?" Jordan asked, and the casual tone of his voice brought back the hurt from before. No fifteen year old should see suicide as something as common as turning on and off a light.

Josh glanced back over at his brother. One look at the younger boy told him that this wasn't casual at all. Tears had filled Jordan's eyes and his knees were pulled up to his chest. He looked so small.

"Yeah," Josh whispered.

Jordan nodded. "Me too," he whispered back.

That surprised Josh. Jordan had seemed to love life outside of the community. He loved sports and colours and kept begging their mother to let him go back to school. Where had this come from?

"Why would you want to die?" Josh asked softly, climbing onto his bed and sitting across from Jordan.

The younger boy shrugged, forcing a smile that barely lasted a few seconds. "I don't know. I miss Dad. I hate feeling like I don't belong anywhere. Bloodletting doesn't help much anymore. My blood is so dark that it burns my veins. I hate it."

Josh nodded. He could definitely understand. He wasn't going to argue with his brother or tell him things would be okay. They wouldn't. For the rest of their lives, the were destined be in limbo between trying to understand normal life and associating the term "normal life" with living inside of a fence.

"Give me your hand," Josh told Jordan.

Without hesitating, Jordan held his hand out. Josh pushed Jordan's sleeve up, revealing countless scars and scabs from bloodletting. It hadn't really occurred to Josh that his little brother had been forced to do that too. As the second son of the prophet, Jordan was easily forgotten by The Family. Josh was the priority. He was the one who would inherit that title and the cult along with it. Jordan just existed.

Josh used their father's knife to make a small incision on his brother's arm. Jordan didn't so much as wince as he trustingly watched his older brother dig a knife into his flesh. Josh then removed the knife, pulling his own sleeve up and doing the same to himself. His little brother smiled as he realized what Josh was doing. Apart from Pete, Josh had never done this with anyone. It only made sense to do this with Jordan. Carefully, Josh rubbed the two cuts against each other, mixing their blood together. He could feel his little brother watching him as he did so.

"Do we have to make promises?" Jordan asked curiously.

"Yeah," Josh told him as he released Jordan's arm, not bothering to bandage their cuts. Getting a little blood on Josh's old sheets was the least of their problems. "That's what being Blood Brothers is for."

Jordan nodded, looking down at his bleeding arm. He traced his fingers through the blood, smearing it across his skin. "You go first."

"I promise that no matter what happens, I'll carry some of your dark blood in my veins so it won't burn you as badly," Josh promised Jordan as he smeared the blood as well.

"I promise that no matter how fucked up we are, I'll always be glad you're my big brother," Jordan said quietly, and Josh could tell that he was embarrassed to admit that. He didn't blame him. They didn't talk to each other like this. They'd been conditioned not to.

"I promise that no matter what we go through, I'll always be proud to be your big brother, and I'll always take care of you," Josh replied softly.

Just seeing the effect those words had on Jordan made Josh glad he'd been here today. His bottom lip trembled as he looked up at Josh. It was clear that he was trying to keep from breaking, and Josh understood that too.

"Til the end?" Jordan asked in a tiny voice.

"Til the end," Josh confirmed.

He knew what Jordan was really asking. This was just his way of making sure that they were both leaving tonight. He had to be sure that Josh wouldn't make him do this alone. His big brother would be here with him until their souls left their bodies, and neither of them would try to stop the other. They understood.

Tears burned at Josh's eyes as he gripped the handle of the dagger. He knew his father had taught him some sort of ritual for this at some point, but he couldn't remember all of it. He'd just have to play it by ear. They both needed the familiarity of a ritual right now.

"Come on," Josh told his little brother as he handed him their father's knife. "We've got to get ready to go then."

Jordan nodded, taking in a deep breath. He followed Josh off of the bed and out of the room. They went downstairs quietly, and Josh wondered if this felt heavy on Jordan's heart too. As much as he was trying to push it to the back corner of his mind, he thought about his mother and Ash and Abigail and Liv. He thought about Tyler and Ashley and JJ.

Still, it wasn't enough. The heaviness in his chest was too much for him to carry. Their hurt was outweighed by the memory of red wine and dead eyes. He thought of Abigail's unconscious body laid out across the altar as he drenched her in blood. He thought of the screams in the now silent sanctuary, a sick feeling twisting in his stomach at the knowledge that he'd caused some of those.

The kitchen had been graffitied, which only made Josh feel more sick. False Satanic symbols littered the walls, along with Bible verses and the phrase, "Evil still lives here." He tried to ignore them as he dug through the drawers in the kitchen, praying silently that no one had taken what he was looking for. It was clear that a lot had been looted from their home now that he was paying attention to it.

Finally, he pulled out a butcher's knife. Mathias's blood had been washed away from it, but Josh could still feel his presence in the texture of the wooden handle. Since Tyler had his dagger, he had to find something else he'd spilt blood with. He could hear the sound of Mathias's skull cracking in the back of his mind, feeling his face be sprayed with blood and brain matter that had been washed away over a year ago.

He heard the door open and close as Jordan went off in search of his own. It hadn't occurred to him that their father had taught both of them this ritual, but of course he did. Ritual suicide was what had made him go down in history. It was only natural that both of his sons knew how to accomplish the same thing.

Start the song. It's Chapel by Nicole Dollanganger.

While his brother was absent, Josh took the opportunity to at least attempt to settle his conscience. He sat down on the filthy floor in their kitchen, pulling a chipped bowl off of the counter. This had been his grandmother on his father's side's china, but of course the people who came through to trash this place wouldn't care. All they saw was the evil here. Josh wished he could too.

Using the butcher's knife, Josh carved a small incision into his arm, allowing the blood to drip into his grandmother's bowl. He drew little comfort from the darkness that spilled out along with his blood. Bloodletting was an empty task when he didn't have his father here telling him what to bleed out.

He set the knife down as he dipped his fingers into his blood, the warmth of it feeling surprisingly foreign even after years of touching it. Still, he drew the devil's cross on each forearm, ignoring the blood already staining his broken skin. Then he crafted the pentagram on the floor, his fingers shaking as he did so. His fingers remembered the movement so easily, making tears sting his eyes. This had never left him. The darkness was always there.

He closed his eyes as he whispered his prayer. "Lord, I'm sorry," were the first words that flew from between his lips. "My dad was right. I should've come with them that day. All I've done is cause pain since they left. Ashley's son deserves more, and so does she. Tyler deserves everything, and I can't give him anything at all. They're better off now. I hope it's not too late for you to take me too. I think it's time."

The tears spilled over then, and he wanted to throw up. He wanted to be anywhere but here, yet he didn't want to go anywhere. There wasn't a single place that he belonged on this earth, and as much as he'd been told that this wasn't his fault, it still ached.

"Protect them," Josh whispered, the words sounding more like a whimper. "Please make sure they don't pity me or miss me or try to justify doing either of those things. Remind them of all the terrible things I did to them and other people while they were here. Let them remember me that way. They have to. That's all that's left of me. I'll see you soon. I'm sorry."

He rubbed his hand across the pentagram, breaking the line of contact. An uneasy feeling settled over him. He shouldn't be here. He just didn't know where he should be right now, and that terrified him.

In the back of his mind, he could hear his father's voice. "You belong here with me. You always have. It's okay to come home now."

He didn't look up when the front door opened again. His brother sat down across him him, dropping a dead cat between them. He then set down their father's knife, which was staining with blood.

"Ready?" He asked Josh quietly.

Josh met his little brother's eyes, finding them filled with tears as well. He nodded. "Yeah. Temple?"

Jordan nodded, picking up the dead cat, whose blood had already mixed with Josh's on the broken pentagram. He stood shakily, and Josh did the same.

The walk to the temple was silent. All around them were buildings their childhood friends had lived in, the building they'd attended school in before the government interfered, the Sanctuary Josh had taken his wife in, the barn he and Pete had run away to after his father had hit him for the first time. Graffiti stained their childhood home, and silence filled the community. This was a good place for it all to end.

Josh held the door to the temple open for his brother before following him inside. Abigail's altar still stood although most of the relics had been taken from it. Blood still stained the stone altar. Bile rose in Josh's throat as he passed it, leading Jordan past the room in which he'd consummated his marriage with Tyler.

They went into the room their father spent most of his time in. No discussion was necessary. They wanted to be with him while they did this.

"Do you think he can see us?" Jordan asked quietly.

Josh looked around his father's office. It had been trashed, every wall graffitied like their kitchen had been. He picked up a thick silver chain off of the desk. Their father's cross hung from it. Neither boy spoke as they looked at it. Jordan reached out and touched it as he let out a sob.

"He's here," Josh whispered, smiling sadly at his brother. "Don't cry. He'll protect us."

Jordan nodded, setting the cat down as he sat down on the floor. Josh sat down across from him. "Til the end," he promised his little brother, trying to keep his own tears from spilling over.

"Til the end," Jordan confirmed quietly. "I love you."

"I love you too," Josh told him quietly as he set the butcher's knife on his lap. "Ready?"

Jordan nodded. "Ready."