The year 1992 was supposed to be a year of hope.

Davyn remembered that autumn day in 1991 when his father had returned from work all smiles and had announced that their lives, as well as everyone else's were going to get so much better.

The Cold War was over. Sirius saw this as an opportunity for all the inventivity and funding to go into improving lives and make it easier for Americans rather than outsmarting the Soviets. Because now, all the brilliant minds of the country could focus on something else.

The people.

And whatever great goal was in store for Davyn, it would be coming with more purpose than ever. He was meant to make the world better, and he would.

At that time, Davyn had fully believed his father. He always did. And his words seemed to ring true. A mere couple of days later, the news hit television stations everywhere and it was all anyone could talk about. The USSR was no more. America had won. It would be a time of peace and hope. A time of prosperity. For a few months, it even felt that way.

Then, Sirius had turned a bit more serious, losing his exuberance. Davyn hadn't noticed it then, because everyone around him was still in full celebration. But now that he thought about it, trying to find any rhyme or reason for his father's untimely demise, he could see it.

Sirius had lost his smile after the new year. They'd had a wonderful family celebration, but then everything seemed to darken. Training had become a bit more serious, his father demanding more and more out of him. He was quieter, didn't mention his secret purpose anymore. And then, just a few days ago, he'd seemed... sad.

Why was he sad? What had happened that had fizzled out his hope? Could it have been a very complicated suicide?

No, he would never do something like that. He was a fighter. A visionary. He didn't break his promises.

He wouldn't do something like that without giving Davyn some pointers, telling him how he was supposed to handle this, go on. His father would never abandon him.

And yet, it was his ashes they were lowering into the ground.

Even if Davyn had been half convinced that Freider would throw him out of the house for hitting him, his older brother actually complied and organized a funeral, even if they would be burying an urn.

It was still a nightmare. Their mother wasn't there, Ron was a mess of nerves, and Bill, who had taken the trouble to actually show up, didn't care.

It had been so long since Davyn had seen his oldest brother, he'd even forgotten what he looked like. Yes, he remembered he was blond, but not the dirty unkept kind, and he was almost certain he didn't have a beard last time. Whenever that had been. Bill had left the house when Davyn was only eight and hadn't come back a lot since.

The service had been short and lacked any kind of feeling, a random priest none of them knew giving a generic sermon. It made Davyn feel even worse if possible. Like his father had died again, this time not in body, but in spirit.

Rain pelted them, turning the remaining February snow into muddy mush. It felt appropriate somehow. A representation of how the hope had fizzled and died, being replaced by dreary reality.

Davyn didn't even feel it, his eyes fixed on the headstone Fredier had hastily put together. It contained both their parents names, even if their mother was technically still alive. He'd mention he'd have the years carved in later because it had all been short notice, but at the moment, it felt as if both their parents had died. Which wasn't very far from the truth. After all, their mother wasn't there. Davyn wondered if she ever would be again, or if she'd live the rest of her life in the asylum.

Ron sniffed loudly next to him as the priest droned on next to the hole which was already being filled. He'd been unable to stay in church after the ceremony started and he realized there was no body and they were basically buring Freider's malice. Davyn had found him near the entrance, crying his eyes out, once they were ready to exit. Now wasn't any better as he simply refused to watch.

Davyn placed his hand on his shoulder and squeezed. Ron flinched and looked up at him, light blue eyes filled with fear. Davyn opened his mouth, but he had nothing to say, as much as he could tell his brother needed it. He couldn't lie and tell him that everything would be alright.

Ron waited for a few moments, his lower lip trembling, then frowned and pulled away. The splashing sound his trainers made as he stomped away were like a jackhammer in Davyn's brain.

Why was he wearing trainers when he should be wearing boots? Why did he always run away and slam things? And why, oh why did Davyn still feel as if his head was bursting open? He'd taken one of his precious migrene pills right before they left for the funeral, aware it was the kind of event that would trigger something.

Even if he felt faint and nauseous, he'd kept it together. He still could if he'd just focus on something else.

"What the hell crawled up his ass?" Bill grumbled, shifting his umbrella from one hand to the other.

"He's just being a moody teenager," Freider said, not mentioning how Bill was acting like one as well.

"When's this thing gonna be over?"

"I don't know. Ask Golden Boy. He insisted that we do it."

Davyn clenched his fists, doing his best not to sink them into Freider's face. But apparently, to the two of them, saying goodbye to their father was nothing but a bother. They couldn't wait the two minutes it would take to cover up the grave.

The moment the diggers propped down their shovels, Freider and Bill both turned their backs on the grave and headed for their cars, huddled under their umbrellas. Davyn took in a deep breath and glanced at the headstone. Nothing but names.

"I'm so sorry, Dad," he whispered. "I wish I could've done better."

And maybe, at some point, he would. But for now, he had to find Ron and get him out of the rain.

It took him a few minutes to find him huddled at the bottom of a shrine with an angel statue on top of it. The craved figure looked vengeful, its stone sword reaching out towards the storm clouds.

Davyn crouched next to his brother and put his hand on his shoulder again. He didn't pull back, which he took as a good sign.

"Why did it have to happen like this, Dav?" Ron whispered. "Why did they both have to go?"

"I don't know, buddy," he whispered back. "It's really not fair."

Ron raised his eyes, and through the pain, there was also rage. "This shouldn't be happening. At least you got to grow up with them. I'm halfway way there! Just what the fuck am I supposed to do now?"

"You don't have to talk like that."

"Why not? You do?"

"I'm five years older."

"Are you going to start rubbing that in my face? That you had five years with them that I did not?"

"Of course not."

Ron didn't seem to care as the tears slid down his cheeks. His eyes still burned with anger, but Davyn could see the fear and despair behind it.

"I have your back," he said. "I'll take care of you."

Ron huffed. "You have your life. You shouldn't have to take care of me. My parents should be taking care of me." His voice cracked and he sunk his face in his hands.

Davyn moved closer and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, pulling him into a side hug. It broke Ron even more as his entire body shook with sobs.

"I'll be there," Davyn muttered through the weils. "I know I don't have to, but I will be. I'll take care of you."

Ron didn't answer. He was too busy bawling his eyes out and Davyn let him. He wished he could cry, too, that he could rage and curse at the skies for the injustice of it all. But he was afraid that if he started, he would never be able to stop, that he'd want to set the world on fire and watch it burn.

Fire... Like the one he'd seen in the hospital. It had been so mesmerizing, the promise of escape. And it would all be so easy. Just a match and then nothing. His temples throbbed again, harder with each or Ron's sobs. Fortunately, after what felt like years, he stopped.

They waited in silence for another few moments. Davyn's legs had fallen asleep and he wondered if he'd ever be able to stand again.

"I mean what I said." Ron broke the silence, his voice robotic. "It's not your job to take care of me."

"You're right," he retorted. "It's not a job. Now let's get you home."

Ron scoffed again. "Home."

It was clear from his tone that he felt the exact same way Davyn did. After their parents left that house, it was no longer a home. But they didn't have anywhere else to go. Just like they didn't have much of a choice regarding who would look after them from then on.

Davyn racked his brain on the drive back, trying to come up with a better solution than staying with Freider and potentially Bill.

They didn't have many close relatives since both his parents had been only children and his grandparents had died, so there was no benevolent aunt there to whisk him away from the home from hell.

Why would they, anyway? They technically had Bill and Freider, two grown ups more than fit to look after them. Except, as it turned out, neither of them wanted that.

"Finally! What took you so long?" Freider growled the moment they entered the house.

He didn't care that they were both wet to the bone and covered in mud. Bill didn't even comment on them showing up, just threw them a glance most likely because they'd made noise and alerted him of their presence.

"So," he asked, turning back to Freider, "you took custody of these two?"

Ron shot him a death glare and rushed up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. In mere seconds, they could hear his door slamming.

"What? Not like you offered," Freider mumbled, completely ignoring what had just happened.

Davyn looked after Ron, the worry in him only growing. "I think you guys should talk to Ron." But then, what they were actually talking about registered. "Wait, custody? What do you need to take custody for? We still have Mom."

Bill and Freider both glared at him as if he was the insane one and not their mother.

"She was declared unfit to care for anyone, even herself," Freider finally said, sounding tired. "Child Protective Services has been so far up my ass these past two days..."

"And you never thought it was worth mentioning?" Davyn clenched his fists so hard, it hurt. He'd been doing so much of that lately, he was sure he'd break off his knuckles at some point. But it was usually that or punch something.

"You talk to him," Bill mumbled to Freider. "I have no time for overdramatic teenagers. And since you keep living in this house, it's only fair that you take care of them."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Freider propped his fists on his hips. "They're your responsibility as much as mine."

"Hey, standing right here!" Davyn pointed out. "I'll be eighteen in two months, I don't need either of you being my guardian."

"You need it for school, idiot," Freider snarled, not even looking at Davyn. "And why aren't you in college already, anyway? I thought you were some sort of genius."

Davyn gritted his teeth, trying his best not to hit Fredier again. Hit them both. Violence was never the answer. "Because Mom and Dad decided when to send me to school." And his father had advised him to stick to a normal schooling rhythm and not skip grades, even if he could.

After all, he'd had so much to learn outside of school, it made sense. Let school be light while he poured over battle techniques, war strategies, biographies of the greatest men who'd ever lived and studies regarding the world's up and coming technologies.

But Freider never knew that because he didn't care. Bill even less.

"Oh, right. You and Ron go to that posh garbage which is very difficult," Freider mumbled.

"It's not garbage precisely because you didn't get in," Davyn snarled.

"Who cares?" Bill interrupted. "Just emancipate him and let him do whatever he wants."

Davyn and Freider both froze, and Freider watched him with a calculated gaze. "That's not such a bad idea. What use would it be for two months anyway? All that paperwork."

For once, Davyn had to agree. He sure as hell didn't want Freider making any kind of decision for him, especially with his atrocious habit of asking for no one's opinion.

"I know someone," Bill said, proving useful for once. "I can arrange for a hearing next week to get him out of our hair."

"Then I can be Ron's guardian," he said. Maybe everything didn't have to be shit after all and they'd survive this.

"No," Bill said, even if it wasn't and shouldn't be any of his business. "You can't be someone else's guardian when you're emancipated yourself. Freider will be Ron's guardian."

"Why?" Freider asked, throwing his hands in the air. "Why don't you get him?"

Bill squinted at him as if he were a braindead idiot. "Because I'm leaving, genius. I won't be here to sign his report cards. And since you'll be in charge of Mom's estate as well, you owe me this."

Freider scoffed. "Please! Mom's estate would be going into keeping her comfortable. And you're already getting your share of Dad's fortune."

"But you're getting to administer Ron's share. So you take care of him."

Davyn watched them going at it, passing Ron from one to the other, acting as if this was all about the money. He hadn't even considered the money, rationalize that there was an inheritance to be split between the four of them and their mother.

Their mother... Was she really that bad off, or were Bill and Freider somehow trying to get rid of her? He opened his mouth to ask, but realized he'd most likely hear a lie. He'd have to see for himself. And the money... As much as the idea made him sick, he really didn't want Freider to be administering his share of the inheritance. Ron's either, but it wasn't like he had a say in that. Even if he wanted to be Ron's guardian, Bill had a point. The age gap between them was too small and it would tie him to Chicago for another five years.

Then again... He wasn't really sure he wanted to be Ron's guardian. Yes, he wanted to take care of his baby brother, but he wasn't an adult. And maybe it was better for Freider to handle this. He was obviously not traumatized by what had happened.

"When can you handle the paperwork?" Bill asked, already sounding bored.

"You're all about the money, aren't you?" Freider retorted.

"Oh, aren't you? Or are you going to take over dad's business?"

Freider huffed and Davyn's heart sank. His father had run a very successful real-estate development business, doubled by smart investments in stocks. But none of them had actually prepared for taking that over. Bill was doing hell knew what, Freider was trying to get his private investigation agency off the ground and he'd been preparing for his grand destiny. Somehow, he'd always imagined that the business would go to Ron once he was old enough.

"Yeah, I'll figure out what to do with that," Freider mumbled. "I'm not giving up on my own thing for that."

His eyes rested on Davyn for the fraction of a second and he wondered if he'd ask if he wanted it. Freider didn't. He just turned back to his older brother with a sighed.

"I'll talk to the lawyer. Everything should be ready in the next couple of days."

For some reason, the splitting of assets made everything more real than the mock-funeral had. Davyn wanted to rage, argue that he didn't need his dad's stuff, that he just wanted him back. But it didn't work that way. Emancipation meant that he could handle himself. It also meant Freider could kick him out of the house if he wanted to.

No. The house is mine as well. That didn't force Freider to buy him food and clothes though. He needed the money. He needed financial as well as legal independence.

And then... Well, then life would somehow still go on.

"You guys should talk to Ron," he repeated.

They both looked at him as if he were insane.

"He's not my problem," Bill said with a grin. Like he'd won the lottery or something.

"Throwing money at problems won't make them go away," Freider said between his teeth.

Bill just shrugged. "It worked so far. And I know you agree. Your money, your problem."

Davyn's temples began throbbing again and he shut his eyes, trying to drive the migrene back. "Why do you keep acting as if he's a problem? He's a kid who lost his parents abruptly. He needs to know we're here for him. That Mom could get better and resume her life."

"I wouldn't put my money on that," Freider mumbled. "And you think this is not hard on us as well? Except someone has to be the grown-up here, handle all the legal aspects and organizing stuff. It's obviously not you. So maybe you could handle this one little thing?"

Ron's tantrums were not one little thing. And he'd already done his best. Freider's dismissive attitude was getting on his very last nerve. Making decisions at a whim, without thinking them through, was not the adult thing to do. But he no longer had any energy to discuss this with them.

Bill and Freider were a bunch of cold-hearted bastards and he would have to do this alone.

♣️♣️♣️

Don't you wish things would start looking up in this story? 😅

As it is, you get to meet the long lost brother. You also get some fun facts about the time period as well as a few more hints regarding some possible foul play when it comes to Sirius' death. I'm sure those won't be important later.

Poor Davyn really needs to find something to do to stay away from home. Let's see how that goes.

Thanks so much for reading and don't forget to leave a vote and comment.