ETHAN

He cleaned the last specks of dirt off the kitchen countertop before Mother arrived, Urto and Jesti disappeared and took their own rides back to Roxton. His compearl never made a sound to break the crackling pressure in his ears as he wiped off the last steak knife to place it back into the protective block before pushing it into the small unit, where the cover dropped down to hide it. It tightened with the tension in his temples as wheels crushed gravel on the beaten path.

Mother and Chalen.

"Mom's here," Keren said from the windowsill.

Lightning force sizzled through his world as he rested his hands against the rim of the metal sink. Tongues of intent licked his ears as he tried to crack out the stiffness in his neck. He dug his fingertips into the cleaning crevice while it shuddered his skull and crept down his back. Tighter. Closer. Teeth nicked his skin as he tapped his fingers to the tune of water and flames. Once. Twice. It coiled around his throat while the world slowly shuddered with red.

Someone's hand touched his back.

It whipped across his entire body, and he slid out of the contact. "Stars, Keren," he hissed, who withdrew his arm. "Don't sneak up on me." He rubbed his brow and longed for a peaceful sleep, while Keren pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you have everything packed? I don't want to have to drive back here because you forgot something."

"Yes, I packed everything." Keren pouted. "...nag."

"Such disrespect, maybe next time you can leave all your toys here and I'll pretend to not hear you when you complain about not having them," Ethan said and a door slammed closed. "Come on, let's get your bags to my car."

"Also, I didn't sneak up on you."

Ethan threw his bag over his shoulder and nudged Keren out the door and onto the grounds of the cottage. "Momma!" Keren called and rushed down the steps, and Ethan scoffed and took his packed bag from his flapping arms before he tossed it to the side. He steadied it against his arms and chest and shambled over to his car, where the trunk popped open when he pressed the edge of his prismkey against it with his hip.

He glanced at the three when Keren bounced between Mother and Chalen, who smiled down at him with warmth, locked with ice. Ethan tucked both their bags in the trunk to conserve space, but gripped the edge when Mother said, "Ethanius, can we talk?"

Ethan checked Keren once more, where Chalen distracted him with ease. "Is this about why we were sent here?" he asked and rested his hand on the top of the trunk.

Her gaze drifted to the left. "Yes and no. Did anything happen up here?"

"No, Mother."

"Are you sure?" she insisted. "Nothing at all?"

"No."

Keren's laughter broke the icy tension between them when Chalen gave him another small ship, which zoomed around with the remote in his hands. His fingers threatened to scrape the paint job of his car, where the lightning sizzled in his ears and he turned from her to stifle its grating lick. He grabbed onto his bag when it sank into his stomach and dragged down his alertness.

"Ethan." Mother's hand cupped his forearm.

"It's nothing," he said. "You didn't answer my question."

Mother drew her hand away. "You were sent up here to... spend a bit of time away from the city."

"Dad gave me the same spiel," Ethan said and leaned against the side of the trunk.

"Ethan." She brushed her hand against his cheek, and he almost leapt out of her arms. "What are you feeling?" Her voice strained into distress.

"Nothing."

"We talked about this, Ethanius," she said with a touch of firmness. "You know what I told you about—"

Ethan raised his hand to put distance between them. "I'm just a little tired. Keren kept me up all night because of tree monsters," he joked.

Mother's expression settled into a deep frown. "Did he get the same feeling?"

"I... no? He just heard a tree branch outside." Ethan rubbed his nose and shook the inferno air out of his ears. "Why?" It dawned on him. "You're worried he has it. You wanted us to come up here because you think—"

Mom motioned with her brow for him to keep quiet while Keren stopped his playing of the remote spacecraft. Ethan eyed Keren, who returned to it after a curious twist to his lips. "It was a tree, Mother," he whispered under his breath. "Not every noise is screaming danger."

"You checked though?"

"Of course I checked." It crackled around his brow, and he raised his fingers to press into the crease. "He might not even have it, Mother. You shouldn't stress over things that haven't happened yet."

"You had the sense — and your father found out." Her hand returned to his shoulder. "Ethan, if he does end up having it... make sure he doesn't find out about it this time, and don't tell him. Please?"

It swirled into a maelstrom between his ears. "Why do you believe I'd tell him?" He drew out of her grasp. "Why would I do that? I didn't mean for Dad to find out about mine. I didn't walk up to him and shout it to the rooftops for everyone to hear."

Shame sprinkled over the stressful grays in the roots of her hair. "I didn't... mean it like that, Ethanius."

He's a monster.

It cracked a whip of lightning into his neck and he jittered in place. He tapped once. Twice. Three times against the hood and tapped his heel against the grass. It wound a spring in his knees, but he forced himself to stay put though it longed to release the pressure to dodge.

"I just want you two to be safe," her voice tore apart the spring from underneath him. "I should've done more to protect you."

"Thanks," he managed out through the ice, and Mother winced.

It sizzled into nothing.

It tore the strength out of his bones, and he leaned against the car for support he struggled to grasp. "I'm fine," he repeated when he drew closer. "I just didn't get a lot of sleep last night." He brushed the heel of his palm against the top of his head, then breathed deep. "Nothing happened. It was quiet, as usual. Anything happen in the city?"

"More... talks among your father's associates," Mother finally admitted. "Once we get home, you can sleep. I'll make dinner."

He nodded and went to close the trunk when Mom turned her back on him.

"Keren," Mom said with a smile. "How about you ride with Chalen and I back home?"

Why? Questions repeated with the blood in his throat.

"What?" Keren mused.

"Your brother's tired," Mother explained, softer. "I'm sure he'd want some time for himself." Her green gaze settled on him with her own question.

Keren gave him the same curious glance. One of confirmation.

It heated against his back.

Ethan let go of the trunk and stared at the cottage and his last shred of stability.

Keren waddled over and replaced Mother when she headed back to Chalen. He lifted his bags into his hands with a small struggle, and Ethan lowered it into his arms, but Keren never left his side.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

Why?

He never questioned it when he let go of the straps to brush the top of Keren's head and flyaway hair before sending his hand into his shoulder to pat it.

"You're fine, Keren. Go with them," he said and nudged him out of the way of his bags all alone within the undercarriage when he placed the rest inside. Keren stuck in his shadow from the rising sun. His cheeks curled into a frown, but bowed his head before shuffling to Mother and Chalen, with Chalen keeping the door open for them both.

"We'll see you back there, Ethan," Chalen called with a smile.

Ethan raised his hand in dismissal, and listened to the gravel crunch behind him.

It went quiet except for the wind which tore through the leaves and left it fragmented.

He slammed the trunk down and it screamed through the forest.

Nails pressed against chalk in his ears, he breathed deep of the air and the taste of rust on the loaded spring. It drove knives into his fingertips and scraped against the paint to leave trails of damage behind him. He stretched his sounders and swallowed on air, and released all the pressure in one smooth, cold motion on his lips. His squeezing heart released the tension against his ribcage, and he brushed the hood before heading to the driver's seat.

Claws dug into his temples when he closed the door behind him and rested his head against the rest and continued to breathe. He waited for the silence, and when it returned, he slid forward to rest both arms on the wheel, and set his head into the crook of his own embrace. Water swelled behind his eyelids, stinging with scuffed dirt when he dug his brow into his sleeves.

I expect better.

He rested his chin on his arms and gazed at the dock where the old boat remained. Laughter bubbled in his ears, and he ran his hand down the control panel beside his knees with a scoff. Gravel crunched underneath his tires when he zoomed out of the campgrounds. Blood poured through his ears when he drove well into the afternoon back to Roxton. Beams of streetlights brushed over his car when he drove through the downtown area. Individuals stuck close to the clubs, eyeing down his car before going on their way. Into the casino district, he drove past the Roxton branch Chalen helped Father run and through the streets and into the gated suburbs.

Don't tell your father.

It was just a tree.

You can't tell him.

It was nothing else.

Ethan rolled his neck with a soft groan when the sizzle of lightning coiled around his throat and choked him.

He rolled into their driveway and his car purred with the twist of his prismkey before the control panels shut off and the wheels locked. Out of the seat, he sighed with no energy to retrieve his bags and shuffled to the porch. I'll get them later. Lead filled his heels when he dragged himself to the door and opened it behind a stifled yawn.

"What took you so long?" Keren asked from the couch, and Ethan shook his head when Keren rushed to him. "Mom was getting worried."

He pushed his palm into Keren's nose and nudged him out of the way. "Later." Ignoring Keren's indignant huffs, he crawled upstairs, past Mother's closed door to head into the last minute safety of his room. He slammed himself down into the covers, then rolled over onto his back to gaze at the roof.

His door creaked, and he opened his small bookshelf and opened his murder mystery. "I said later, Keren. I just got home."

Though he never does take no for an answer, does he?

Ethan focused on the words in the book when Keren scowled down at him. "If you won't move, I'll make you move."

"Oh, this I gotta see." Ethan wagged his hand at him then let Keren do his worst, returning to the confusion and tension on the page.

Keren tried to pull his legs off his bed, but he put up his small wall to prevent any cheating. Undeterred, Ethan brought his book closer to him when Keren crawled over him, and tried to lift him off his mattress. Ethan sighed, then dropped all the weight he held straight into his brother's hands, causing Keren to hiss out in frustration when he fought against the pressure, twisting so his back leaned against his own, with his feet against the wall.

"Don't hurt yourself," Ethan said, turning to another page as he leaned into his newfound cushion.

"Ow!" Keren whined and locked his knees with another strained huff. "You could help."

"I don't want to make it easy. You're the one that wants to drag me out of bed." Ethan picked up a clue within the lines. "Lift me out of it."

"You're heavier than I am." Keren pushed into his back, and Ethan counteracted the balance and refused to fight the lead in his shoulders. "Come on..." Keren crossed his arms. "Are you sure you're not mad at me?"

"Nope."

"Annoyed?"

"Nope."

Keren narrowed his eyes. "Are you saying nope just because?"

Ethan tipped his head against the back of Keren's. "Yep."

Keren groaned in frustration and crossed his arms.

A grin threatened his lips as he returned to his book, with Keren squirming and continuing his endless struggle. "I'm not used to wriggling cushions," Ethan mumbled and closed the book with a snap.

"Better get used to it then," Keren snapped and wriggled more.

"Just as I was getting comfortable." He sighed out his dismay, and when Keren made one last push, he edged out of the way to grab Keren into a lock, who squeaked in shock.

Both of them wrestled for the advantage, but he came out on top and wrapped his arms around Keren's head, who flailed for his lost grip. His fingers dug into his sleeves as he gave muffled sounds of protest, but Ethan refused to give in to his baby brother.

"That's not fair!"

"You started it. I'm just finishing it—Don't lick me." Ethan tapped Keren's nose when his tongue stuck out. "Accept defeat gracefully, Sellzora."

"Let me go."

"No."

"Let me go."

"No.

"I hate you." Keren squirmed and pushed into him. "You're so frustrating sometimes!"

"Aw, I love you too, Keren." He pinched Keren's cheeks, then pressed his face into his. "If you just wanted my attention you could've just asked. It could just be like old times where you refused to leave me alone and barged into my room like you owned the place... oh, wait." He dodged Keren's hand with a wild grin, then used the momentum to push Keren off his bed, where he steadied himself and smoothed out his hair.

"You did that on purpose."

"Of course." Ethan put the book aside. "I just need some sleep. I'll be up for dinner."

Keren clenched his fists. "Are you going to eat with me and Mom?"

Ethan blinked, then lowered his head. "I'll see how I feel when I wake up. Go enjoy your new model ship." He lounged across his bed and stuffed his face into the pillow. Supernovas burst in his temples when Keren made a small noise of understanding and left his room, and the door closed him in.

'Protect him, Ethan,' Mother's voice begged beneath the lines. 'I couldn't protect you.'

... don't cry. He expects better... I'll be better...

He slipped into the dark of sleep.