Work Text:
Aaron never celebrated Halloween with his mother.
Not one that he can remember, anyway. There was a picture hung that had hung in a glassless frame in their barebones living room, one of baby Aaron. He couldn’t have been more than two, dressed in black with little wings attached to his back. Tilda, holding him, had been swathed in a long red-and-black dress with fake fangs dripping fake blood.
A pale hand rested on Aaron’s back. The photo had been ripped, the man cut out and away as cleanly as in life.
Aaron doesn’t care. Can’t make himself care. What’s gone is done and all that.
But.
But this year he has Andrew, has Nicky. Has someone who wants to celebrate.
And Nicky has given up so much. Aaron can suck it up for a day and let Nicky drag him to whatever party he inevitably gets invited to.
Then the day comes, and Nicky hasn’t mentioned any party. He’s talked about Halloween, and costumes, and makeup, and movies and everything even remotely connected, and yet. He hasn’t said anything about a party.
Aaron confronts him over breakfast-Andrew had made pancakes, a rare but welcome thing.
“Nicky,” Aaron says, and watches him freeze with his mouth full. “What party have you decided to go to?”
Nicky blinks, swallows. Syrup drips down his chin. “Hmm? Oh, I haven’t. I mean, I’m not going to a party. I thought we could, you know, just get some greasy take out and watch a bad movie or something.”
He’s almost stuttering at the end, glancing between Aaron and Andrew. Aaron considers, shrugs. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Fine with me.”
Nicky’s shoulders slump-with relief, Aaron thinks. He shovels another bite of pancake into his mouth and checks the time.
“We are getting Chinese,” Andrew says, voice as flat as it was the first time Aaron heard it. “I am not calling. Clean up when you finish.”
And Andrew stands, leaves. Leaves Nicky staring at the door with his mouth open and eyes comically wide, leaves Aaron near frozen in his seat.
The front door slams and a car speeds down the street. Aaron swears-he’ll have to catch the bus. He meets Nicky’s eyes and sees, amidst the shock, the realization that he’d need the bus too.
As he leaves, scooping his threadbare bag from its hook, Aaron contemplates the pros and cons of saying fuck it and buying a car with Tilda’s money.
…
Aaron manages to catch Andrew in time to get a ride home from school.
Aaron’s annoyed, and he can tell Andrew is too. They don’t have many classes together, but all day they’d been asked again and again what they were dressing up as. Near fourth period Aaron had given up trying to explain that he wasn’t, that he had other plans, and had just told everyone he was dressing up as Andrew with the most deadpan voice and the flattest look he could manage.
It satisfied everyone who asked-or unnerved them enough to stop-so Aaron kept with it throughout the day. Andrew, apparently, had decided silence and death glares was a good enough answer to anyone who dared to ask.
The ride home is as silent as it always is. Aaron stares out the window, watching houses pass in blurs of white and black. Trees, still clinging to what little leaves they had left, streaked by in yellow and orange and red.
“Tomorrow,” Andrew says and Aaron starts. Andrew doesn’t usually talk. “We are going to the store, and we are buying out all of the sale candy.”
“Okay,” Aaron says, hesitantly. “I can donate twenty bucks or so.” He doesn’t really want to, it’s coming from his tutoring money, but it’ll satisfy Andrew.
And Aaron, as much as he hates to admit it, is still Andrew’s twin. They have more than their looks and eidetic memory in common.
Aaron’s sweet tooth is nowhere near rivaling Andrew’s, or even Nicky’s, but he still has one. And post-Halloween half-off candy is the only time he lets himself splurge and buy useless things.
Andrew turns the radio on and blares the first music station he finds. It’s all generic pop top-40’s, and Aaron tunes it out, pulling his Chem notebook from his bag instead.
They finish the ride in pop-music and page-rustle silence.
…
Nicky arrives with arms full of brightly colored plastic.
Aaron wanders into the kitchen as Nicky dumps them on the table, singing along to a loud bouncy song in Spanish. He grins at Aaron, swinging his hips and holding up a bag of mixed candy. He tosses it, and Aaron catches it easily.
As he rips it open and pulls out a handful, he surveys his cousin. Nicky’s hair is pulled back in a stubby ponytail, and the circles under his eyes are dark and deep. Despite that, he looks genuinely happy in a way he hadn’t before.
Aaron supposes not having to hide who he is helps with that. He ignores the chorus of Luther’s droning voice in the back of his head, drowns it out with chocolate and music.
Andrew thuds down the stairs and into the kitchen. Aaron thinks he comes down the stairs as loudly as he can on purpose, though he doesn’t know why.
Nicky pauses the music. Andrew takes two of the bags. Aaron watches.
“Okay,” Nicky says, half-breathless and bouncing on his toes. “Pick what you want from that Chinese place down the street. I think there’s a menu around here somewhere. Aaron, pick a couple movies from my room when I go to pick it up. Andrew has veto power. I’m going to take a shower.”
Andrew gives Nicky a look of impassive boredom-the effect of which is only slightly lessened by his full cheeks and chocolate-smeared fingers. Aaron grunts an affirmative.
Nicky leaves, humming under his breath. Andrew finds the menu stuffed into the back of he junk drawer.
Aaron decides on what he always gets. Andrew picks the spiciest thing he can find. They leave a note for Nicky, and Aaron goes to fit in some last minute studying while Andrew does who-knows-what.
…
Aaron chases the last piece of chicken with his chopsticks. Beside him, Nicky is silent, curled up under a blanket and watching the screen with wide eyes. His food lays abandoned on the table, though if the way Andrew is eyeing it is any indication, it won’t be for long.
Andrew, in the armchair, makes his way steadily through a bag of assorted candy. His dishes are next to Nicky’s, a thin coat of alarmingly red sauce at the bottom.
Nicky yelps as a girl onscreen is decapitated with a spray of obviously fake blood. Aaron snorts-it’s so fake, he doesn't get why Nicky is so freaked out. When he glances his way, Andrew is just as unaffected, staring at the screen as he methodically unwraps another piece of candy.
The movie ends abruptly, frozen on a madly smiling face amid a pile of corpses. Aaron, yawns, stretches, stands. It’s been his job to switch out the movies-they’re two in already-and he does, replacing one gory disk with another.
While they’re waiting for it to start, Nicky hops up and makes his way towards to bathroom, complaining dramatically about how he won’t be able to sleep tonight. Aaron rolls his eyes and gathers the empty bags and containers.
He stops at Andrew’s chair, holding out one of the tubs. Andrew deposits his wrappers and snags Nicky’s leftovers in a clean, neat movement.
As Aaron turns to leave, Andrew snaps his fingers. Aaron glares at him-he isn’t a goddamn dog-but Andrew ignores it, instead holding out his bag of candy. He’s still watching the screen blankly, so Aaron takes a handful and leaves.
He thinks, idly, that this really isn’t what he imagined when he found out he had a twin. Dead mother, living with their cousin, ex-addict. A deal set in iron on his shoulders. Horror movies and takeout on Halloween.
He thinks he likes it. Wouldn’t change it, at least.