NP: Say When by The Fray

Come close and then even closer
We bring it in but we go no further
We're seperate.
Two ghosts in one mirror, no nearer  

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Yet again, Alex sneaked me under Vincent's radar to do some research about my condition. I didn't think I was much help. Me and books really don't get along. Most of them were written in Sumerian, Latin or Enochian in which cases I was only good for making coffees. The guy had enough coffee to make an elephant shiver.

All I did was stare at some random page for the last few minutes. Or hours. I couldn't tell anymore. Every time Alex would check up on me, I kept nodding. I couldn't understand what he was saying most of the time. The symbols on the book kept moving, like Nysmic lulling me into a waking dream.

It started with the smells. Anything within a hundred yards made me queasy. That was before I went completely numb. I couldn't move and the room was whirring around me.

I was thirsty. So thirsty. For the first time since I got out of Hector's lab, I longed for the half-filled glasses of water with drops of pink swirly liquid Millie slid into the chute whenever Hector was out. I wanted it so bad it hurt. My throat burned. Something seemed to twist inside my chest.

As I fell to the floor, a spasm raced down my body in waves. Last thing I saw was Alexis' panicked face. And then it was dark.

I was supposed to be unconscious. But in this darkness, I could feel everything. I could hear everything. From the hissing, the rustle of cloth, the low growls to the warm, humid breaths on my nape. . The smell of blood, of something that died weeks ago lingered in the air. Those cold gnarly hands made my skin prickle. Everything felt so real, I wasn't sure if this was a nightmare anymore. One thing I was sure of was that the creatures in this world of darkness weren't human.

It was an endless poking and pulling. Claws raked into my skin, not too deep that I would bleed to death, but just deep enough to make me scream until I couldn't scream anymore.

I crawled away from the creatures, onto what felt like a pile of flesh only to be hindered by glass walls. Then I curled, hugging my legs and hiding my face onto my knees. Cried like I never cried before. Shouted for help. Called for Vincent. Still, no one came to pick me up from the dark pit of squirming creatures.

The tears eventually ran out.

I kept telling myself this wasn't real. But before long, I started to doubt that. And the pain—a blend of all things vile and agonizing—was easy to get used to. It had become my reality. Until that tiny drop of sweet, sweet hope touched my lips; that bitter, intoxicating taste masking everything else.

"She's still weak, but I think it's working what we're doing." It was Alexis. I would know that smell of espresso and old books anywhere. "It's not an exact science but, she's responding well to titrated amounts of SirenSoul. If we give her just enough to curb the withdrawal symptoms and slowly wean her off, we should be expecting better results. Just give me a few more days."

"I don't have a few more days, Alex!" Vincent's gravelly voice reverberated on the walls. "I can't just rely on the fact that she's stopped thrashing and screaming her head off. I need to know for sure."

I heard a long sigh. "We can't."

"Well, do something!"

"Vincent, I'm trying."

"You should've told me, Alexis!" he roared. "You sonova— You should've told me the second you knew."

"She knew you would panic," Alex answered, his tone quiet, even. "Like the way you're acting now."

I heard a crash, like someone hit a table or something. I forced my eyes open. At first, my lids wouldn't cooperate, but I was persistent.

We were back inside the castle. In Vincent's room. Nothing much had changed except that most of the furniture and decorations were now smithereens on the floor.

Vincent was pinning Alex on the wall by his collar. Smoke was wafting from his skin and the floor around him was beginning to smolder.

"She's my familiar." Vincent's voice came out a quiet snarl. "You hear? Mine. You don't get to decide what's good for her. That's uh... kind of my job. So if something's happening to her, I get to know first."

"Assuming that I told you, what could you have done?"

Vincent had no immediate answer. With his head hung, he let go of his brother. "Anything... Everything."

I opened my mouth and tried to say something, but my voice seemed to be missing. My lips cracked. My mouth tasted like blood. Something with claws must have made its way out of my throat because it hurt like a mother.

Alexis tugged his shirt back into place. Instead of anger, I saw pity in his listless eyes. "You know your boundaries, Vincent. You go the other way; what are the odds that it ends well?"

"I know what I'm doing."

"Clearly you don't. I'm not saying what happened to me would happen to you. Who knows? Perhaps, I'm just cursed—"

"So don't tell me what to do, Alex." It was something short of a whisper. "You're not my brother."

Alexis suddenly made eye contact and punched Vincent in the face. Vincent swayed sideways and leaned on the table. His lip was busted.

With an unreadable air, Alex grabbed Vincent by his shoulders and gave him a rough pull. "Take that back." It was more of a plea than a threat. "Take that back this instant."

Vincent chuckled and spat blood. "No."

Alex threw left and right hooks. Vincent crashed against the shelves, groaning. As Alex was standing him up, he grabbed Alex's shirt and twisted, slamming him on the shelves. A broken shard drove right into the back of Alex's shoulder. He pulled it out and lunged at Vincent.

"You bastard!" Alex yelled.

Alex pummeled Vincent's face into the floor and Vincent just let him. Soon enough, Alex stopped as if sapped of all his strength. Vincent wedged his knee into Alex's stomach and shoved him away. Alex slumped on the floor with his back on the wall. Vincent stayed flat on his back, staring at the ceiling.

Silently, they both caught their breaths.

All of a sudden, Alex started laughing. "Remember that time Kyoshiro was in so much trouble and Vlad had to go to Burma to save his obstinate bum? You were how old back then? Seven?"

"Nine."

"Yes. You were a late bloomer. Max never stopped teasing you because you were short and scrawny."

Vincent rolled his eyes. "But look on the bright side. Now, I'm tall enough to kick his Sasquatch ass."

"Vlad had to leave you with us for weeks. Max was always forcing you to make snowmen every day and pretend they were your familiars. You hated it so much."

"Not really. It's just... It's really cold."

"It's the Arctic. It's supposed to be cold. You were always running back inside the house whenever Max wasn't looking."

Vincent sniggered. "Yeah, and he'd keep playing by himself anyway. And he named his snow people too."

"Six-foot-four, hundred-years old grown man playing with snow in the middle of the Arctic."

"The Abominable Snowman." Vincent grinned at the ceiling. "I didn't hate playing with Max. I just... liked it better in your study; drawing, drinking hot coco."

Alex's eyes went blank. "Sasha did know how to whip up the perfect hot chocolate."

Again, they fell quiet.

Alex fixed his eyes on the ceiling as though to grasp what Vincent was looking at. "When Max and I were captured, you didn't hesitate to surrender yourself for us."

"Only 'cause Max would end up dead if I didn't. He just won't keep his mouth shut. Always knew how to get the twins mad. Sometimes I think he actually enjoyed getting tortured," Vincent groaned. "You know he was doing that to keep the twins to himself, right? So when they get to you, they won't have as much energy to carve pictures on your sorry hide."

Alex nodded. "Back when the twins were torturing Max, you always yelled and goaded them until they turn their attention toward you instead. Did you think I didn't notice that?"

"So?"

"That's what a brother does, imbecile," he rasped. "Look, Vincent. I could not care less that you're the spawn of the devil—"

"And you're the son of Death." He said that like an insult.

"Fair enough. Thank you for reminding me of our disturbing family background. The point is, it doesn't change anything. I'm still your big brother. Since Sasha d-died, I... let myself go. I just"—he opened his hand and stared at it—"held onto the pain and forgot about everything else."

Vincent sat up. "Okay. Let's talk about our feelings like a couple of girls. Sounds like fun."

Shaking his head, Alex blinked rapidly to clear the mist from his eyes. "I'm serious, Vincent. I forgot I had six little brothers to take care of. I should be the one looking after you imbeciles. Not the other way around. But I had been nothing but a burden." He wiped his eyes on his sleeves. "And now... Max would not wake up. Kyo lost a familiar. So did I. Joaquim is a drunk. Hector has become a—"

"Stark-raving psycho?" Vincent threw in. "Come on, man. How's that even your fault? He's probably born that way."

"Vincent, I taught Hector everything he knows. Remember? I'm partly—if not fully—liable of his actions."

"If you're so sorry about what he did, let's just off him."

"And you, Vincent... have this uncontrollable entity inside you. Vlad has no choice but to take charge of everything. For once, I just want to decide to be fine and function again. It's about time I did my part."

"We're not going to start hugging now, are we?" Vincent chided, sniffing inconspicuously.

"Do you want to?" Alex answered, clearly oblivious of the joke.

"No."

"Agreed. It would be inappropriate... unless you really want to."

"That was—ugh, forget it," Vincent said, standing up.

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Hey there. if you like this chapter, please give show some love by voting. But if you really like it, do comment and spread the word about this story. It would mean the world to me. For those of you who're asking me to make a Reapernomicon (or reapertionary), I would love to but it'd have to wait. Or else I might be too hooked up writing that and not this. There's just one of me and lots to do in so little time. Gome