KEREN

Ethan recovered, but from the way Father's Associates acted on the day to day, the drawn out stalemate between the two warring families broke - with the death of Jestirian. "The Azaika's cornered him," Father gave the news to Ethan, and Keren listened from around the corner, but with no hint of care in his voice. "We need to get to work."

In a single moment, Ethan built another wall, a distant, broken visage of who his brother was once. Mother, then Jestirian, and the life took too much. Keren found himself in Ethan's constant, swallowing shadow, and he found his hope for a better life dwindling.

His seventeenth birthday passed with the routine of their life taking a tense shift in cracked directions. Unable to disobey, to run back to the cottage and his previous innocence and false freedom. He stared at the model ships he had left on his showcase stand inside his room, a strange emptiness in his heart for the constant hell he found himself in; for Ethan. His breath caught in his lungs at the crimson memory of Ethan's near miss. Is this all I have to look forward to now? He looked at the scout ship him and Ethan built together, his grief barely able to muster tears for another death.

Ethan's been... different since he got it confirmed that Jesti got killed. And for what reason?

He saw himself change too.

Everyone knew he'd never be one of them — not truly. He had not a single speck of respect outside of Chalen and Ethan. Keren found his mindset slipping down the slope of bones. He found himself irate when someone refused to cough up what they were owed. It was for their own good, their own wellbeing. If they refused to pay, they would suffer the consequences. And I know that. I know that better than they do.

I hate it. I hate this.

Tears stung in the corners of his eyes when he cupped the scout into his palms. He ran his fingers down the grooves and tried to imagine somewhere far away. It was his only reprieve away from his terrible actions. Among the stars and colorful nebulae. Keren put the scout back on its stand, and sighed. Another day, another night of returning to the same drop-off, and he no longer asked, no longer cared to ask. He left his bedroom, fixing his sleeves and drifted past Mom's old room, where Ethan kept all her things in boxes, but never moved them out — and never let him help sort through them every so often grasping for something they'd never have.

Downstairs, Ethan sat at the dining room table, sipping at his coffee, but the empty reflection in his green eyes swallowed the warmth of Mother. It simmered underneath the surface of his own heart. Trust no one — or safer to say, get close to no one. But we made a promise... and I still refuse to be the reason you die, but who am I kidding? Keren swallowed his tears. You're slipping away already. You're slipping away right in front of me but I'm not going to let you go. I'm still here, why can't you see that?

"Ethan?" he forced out.

"Hm?" He stared down at his datapad.

His one lifeline in a sea of splattered chains. Keren came closer to it, to reach out to his one last piece of his dream of family before it escaped forever and drowned in constant loss. Keren placed a smile on his face, as apathetic as his mind. Ethan raised an eyebrow. "What's with the weird grin?" he asked, echoing his own expression, but it was no more happy than his.

"I dealt my first Chain Winch game a couple days ago." Hands tucked in his pockets, he observed his reaction. Watch the eyes. Watch the body language. Tell me you're still you, Kellzoro. Tainted by the hardships of the life, Keren tried to shake himself out of the radioactive toxin swallowing his brother. It clawed and chewed at their smallest interactions, and he hunted for the return of resentment, but Ethan gave none — as empty as a husk. Trust no one, you told me. Trust no one. I trust you...

What has this done to you? To me?

Keren wanted to scream.

"I heard," Ethan said with a tip of his head. "I told you it was easier than it seemed." In an instant, the last remnants of pleased pride fell into the event horizon of a black hole. "Had to deal with any cheaters?"

"Um..." Thompson's squeaks rang through his ears. "No. I think people learned their lesson last time." Keren rolled his shoulders free of the gravel, and sat beside Ethan, who considered him, his expression softening — a ghostly visage. "Chalen told me to tell him if I spotted anyone cheating, and he'd take care of it. All I have to do is deal tables."

"Good." Ethan returned to his datapad without another word.

Fantastic start... Keren gazed at the wall at the end of the universe. Keren brushed his nose and prodded Ethan's shoulder, causing him to break empty eye-contact with his datapad. "Do you want to play a game?" He scooted closer, hunting for the child he used to be. "I'm supposed to do another run tonight, so..."

"I'm busy," he readied himself to hear. "Maybe some other time."

"I'll see what I can do," Ethan said to his desperate wish of escape, and handed off another model ship. It wasn't the real thing. It wasn't an escape. It wasn't real. It was as fake as their lie of a family when he built the scout so long ago with Ethan. A lie. His entire life had been a lie, but he refused to let Ethan slip out of his grasp.

Come on, Ethan. Keren pleaded to nothing. Come on, Kellzoro, don't leave me like this. You can't. I know how much it hurts! I cared about Jesti too! And I almost lost you. I am losing you, but I'm still here.

Ethan gazed at him, then smiled. "Sure." He pushed the datapad out of his way. "I will always take any excuse to shirk when I can."

Hope bloomed deep in his soul. "Can I deal?" Keren tugged out his deck of cards and shuffled them through his fingers, then met Ethan in the eye when he tented his fingers and rested the tip of his nose against them. Distance crawled across the green, but Keren refused it all. Chain Winch, the liars game. It revolved around a simple goal, to reach the end of the chain and bluff and force the victory on your terms. Ethan studied him when Keren split the card in two, but used his sleight of hand to slip a hopeful card into his deck.

Keren's stomach curled at the thought of using Ethan's distraction and emptiness against him. It worsened at another truth of a game's ruthlessness. Ethan... would do the exact same thing. I've seen him do the exact same thing.

But how else do we survive this?

Cards in play, the game started. Keren gave Ethan equal amounts of attention to catch him in a bluff, in a lying act. One of his hopeful cards tucked into the winch, it ended the garrote of a chain. His one win against his brother.

The seven of hearts was all he had for victory.

It could be worse.

Keren schooled his expression as Ethan shuffled his own deck, twice more distracted. He flicked the edges of the cards on the tips of his fingers, and then created another link in the chain. In a flip of cards, Keren scowled when Ethan wrested control and the power of the winch right out from underneath him. Ethan tipped his head to the side in a slight, smug manner.

Fine, I'll just take the next one. Keren refused to roll over and be useless. I just need to call his bluff. Next card down, Keren leaped at his chance for success, and refused to let Ethan gain the upper-hand or use his passive features to catch him unaware. Nothing betrayed him. Not even his previous vulnerability. Keren picked up the shuffling deck, causing Ethan to raise an eyebrow, before folding his arms with a growing grin.

"Don't tell me I already have you on the ropes?" Ethan teased. "We just started, Keren, come on."

Yes, please come back.

Keren shuffled and kept an eye on the one card for his victory, the one to set him free and win the game. He slipped it over the top of the winch cards and reached the end of the link. One last go. Ethan excelled at long games, so a short strategy had to work.

Keren flipped the seven of hearts at the end of the chain as Ethan overturned his own.

"Huh." Ethan's smug grin formed with pride. "That's interesting."

The other half of the deck, another seven of hearts.

"Great." Keren sighed and shook his head.

"Why are you so gloomy?" Ethan picked up his datapad. "It usually takes you longer to tie with me."

No. It's not that...

One game. One game for his hope. Unable to win against the undisputed champion of the house. Keren put his head in his arms and fiddled with the edge of the heart. Paper cut skin, but couldn't tear down walls of the universe.

"Keren?"

"It's nothing." He peeked over his arms to where Ethan studied him. "Just... really bummed out that I still can't beat you after all this time." If I could just win once... maybe I can steal you back.

Ethan's smile drifted into emptiness. "You said you're doing another run?"

"Don't worry," Keren mumbled out apathy. "I won't make the same stupid mistakes I did the first time. I've gotten... pretty good at finding my way around the city. If I run into any trouble, I'll use your safe spots. You doing anything today?"

"Waiting around," Ethan said with a shrug. "I can wait at the casino for you if you want."

No, I can't be your shadow anymore. Against his head, he nodded to the beat of his heart. "Think we can grab dinner after, Ethan?" he asked, trying to find his brother among the shadowy foundations which crushed him. "Talk a little?" Like we should've done... so long ago... when you came home and I swear I... Keren choked on the past electricity. He waited for Ethan's response, and trembled at the lack of it. Stars... we should've done that when you were recovering... talked. We should've talked. Instead I just... I just watched our father hurt you again and again while you grappled with the fact you lost your friend to this life. Just like we lost Mom and just like I'm slowly losing you.

"Okay." Ethan nodded. "Sounds good. Need me to drop you off at the casino then?"

One chance. "I'm going to walk there... because its right there." Keren indicated out the window, with the casino on the edge of the block, not too close to crush their house, but close enough that Keren could pick out constant familiar faces of Father's Associates outside.

Ethan nodded again.

"Why do you offer?" Keren asked. "Are you going somewhere today?"

"Like I said, waiting around, so... I'll just be running around with no particular destination in mind until I get called," Ethan said and sorted through the bag leaning against his chair. "If you need anything you can call me."

"I'll be okay."

Talk to me.

Ethan got out of the chair. "Well, if you change your mind before you have to go I can probably swing by if I'm not occupied," he said, and Keren frowned when he grabbed his jacket off the rack, buttoning it as he opened the front door to the light drizzle. "Take care of yourself, Keren."

"You too."

Ethan stopped at the threshold, and turned around to face him with a hard to read expression on his face. "If you have any place in mind you want to go out and talk to, send a message." He buttoned the rest of his jacket, but Keren winced at the splattered blood of his old one.

"I will," he forced out, but wanted to cry instead.

Ethan gave one last nod, then stepped out of their home and into the pattering rain, disappearing into the stormy shadows as the door swung closed, and the wall continued to build on itself.

Keren let out a shuddered exhale, slipping his head into his hands when the lock clicked closed. No. He sniffed and tried to fight off tears.

And failed.

No.