Chapter Text
Three days after Lup’s funeral, Taako sat in a full, but empty, house
Barry had come to help him pack up, of course. As much as he had probably wanted Taako to stay, he knew there was no point in keeping him in an echo chamber of grief. Taako would do what he always did when it got too hard, he would run.
His voice cut through the static in Taako’s mind, as he unloaded boxes into a small cottage at the edge of a quiet town. “This’ll be good for you.”
Taako absently nodded, watching as the dust settled with each new muted thump. He’d have felt bad, if Barry wasn’t trying hard to keep him in tact. They both knew it, there was no denying, Taako was a porcelain figure teetering on the ledge. The smallest push would shatter him.
They both had the urge to stay together, undivided in Lup’s memory.
There was no hope for that, Taako wouldn’t be able to stand walking past her grave on his way to work.
He’d bought the cottage a day after her funeral, grief stricken and fragile. Barry sighed when he’d told him, sipping warm tea out of a mug. “You should never make big decisions when you’re sad.”
“What else would I have done with the money?”
There was a pause, as the venom in the elf’s voice settled. They weren’t angry at each other, and they weren’t angry at Lup. They were angry it had to be this way. “When are you moving?”
“Two days.”
“Let’s get packing.”
“Taako?” Barry placed a gentle hand on his brother’s shoulder, ignoring the way he flinched. “I didn’t mean to startle you.” His hand retreated to pull off his glasses, cleaning them on the cotton material of his shirt. “You’re all set, the hardest part now is gonna be unpacking.”
Taako nodded wordlessly, hands fisting at the fabric of his skirt. “Will you stay a little longer?”
“Of course.”
Taako sighs, walking forward into Barry’s open arms. He buries his face into his brother’s shoulder, squeezing him tightly as his curls spill down his back. The words are on the tip of his tongue, floating around in his mind.
“You’re welcome.” Over their years of being best friends, Barry’s come to accept what Taako can’t say. The Taaco brand of affection has become his standard. The elf deflates, nodding against the fabric of the human’s shirt.
Taako gets the gas stove up and running, and Barry walks down the road to pick up ingredients from the grocers. They eat in a comfortable silence, dinner without Lup has become dinner without conversation.
Barry is long gone by the time Taako turns in for the night, departing with an unspoken ‘I love you’.
There isn’t much Taako can do. He hasn’t slept well in weeks, nightmares sending him upright in bed choking on tears. It might have just been spending time in the house where Lup died, but he isn’t risking it. He chooses to light a kerosene lamp, beginning to pull clothes out of boxes and crates, and hanging them neatly in the wardrobe in his room.
He gets almost completely through his room, hunched over as he clears out another crate of knick knacks and miscellaneous items, when his hand pauses, fingers ghosting over a rough leather book cover.
Barry.
The fucker must’ve snuck it in when Taako wasn’t looking
The book appears to be an old diary, likely from their days on the road together. It’s beaten, and one corner is singed lightly. For whatever reason, that makes him feel a bit less melancholy.
It feels invasive to read it, their rule of ‘no privacy between siblings’ doesn’t seem applicable now that there’s just the one.
Taako stands, opening the top shelf to his dresser, and sticking it in. He slides the wooden drawer shut until the diary is out of view.
A fit of nausea hits him as he makes his way back across the room, sitting on his bed and avoiding eye contact with no one in particular.
It’s only been three days, he has time to process.
He has time to heal.
Taako drifts off not too long later, squeezing a pillow in absence of a warm body.