Chapter Text
It was only a week after Jim had died that Richard had stumbled upon the letter with ‘Miss Me?’ written on the outside of it in Jim’s handwriting. He pauses for a second, wondering just where the letter had come from and if it was meant for him. Looking around the area by the desk where he had found it, he didn't see any clues or signs to what it could be, just the paper that had been laying between a couple of books that were stacked up on top of it.
Taking a breath, he calls, “Severin, come here for a minute,” He calls out softly, looking over at the kitchen where the other was standing.
Severin, picking up on the worried tone in the other’s voice, puts down the pan he was washing, and picks up a towel, drying his hands as he makes his way over to Richard, “What is it? What’s wrong?” He asks, worry noticeable in his voice as he looks down at Richie and then the letter.
“Jimmy’s writing,” He whispers, looking down at it as he leans against Severin lightly, “I don’t know what it is but I’m afraid to read it.”
“Why?” Severin asks, carefully taking it and looking it over, searching to see if there was anything else on the outside before starting to try to open it, looking at Richard to see if it was okay and getting a nod.
“Are you sure about this?” Richard asks, “I mean, what if it’s not for us? What if it was a message for Sebastian or something?”
Severin looks over at him, “Then it would have probably been left at their house,” He replies, kissing his cheek, “Come on, I’m sure that there’s a note saying who it’s for inside it, we can just check if you’re comfortable with that?” He asks, pausing his movements.
Richard nods, “Yeah, go on and open it, I need to know,” He replies, his heart beating fast as he moves to sit down on the couch, his hand going out to Severin’s arm, trying to pull him down with him.
Sitting down next to Richard, he nods and finishes opening it. It only takes him a moment to point out the beginning where Richard’s name was written. “Here, love, want to read it then? Ready for that?”
Nodding, Richard accepts the letter and takes a breath, “Rinny, can I have a drink?” He asks, softly.
“Of course, you can, bunny,” He replies, not mentioning it being midday on a Tuesday. He gets them both a beer and comes to sit back down next to him, opening the bottle for him and passing it over.
“Thank you,” Richard whispers, taking a drink before starting to read over the letter.
“Richard,
I don’t really know how to start this letter, I’m hoping it won’t come to this but, if you’re reading it, that means things got a bit out of hand. Don’t worry though, I’m still in control of the situation. I hope you’re doing well and know the truth by now. You always were so good at that.
Brother, my biggest concern right now is Sebastian. Of course, I’m worried about you too, but you have Severin, you have the control and the consciousness to stop you. Sebastian doesn’t. I need you and Severin to watch him and make sure he stays alive for me. I’ve tried to tell him, tell you all, about this and I’m not sure any of you have picked up on it. I’m not calling you all idiots, but you are missing the obvious. If you could do this one thing for me, I will always be in your debt.
Take care, Richard, I need my twin alive as well. Remember Severin is there for you, your husband loves you. Sometimes it seems you forget that, but everyone around you knows it well and can see it.
-JM”
Richard looks over at Severin, feeling tears sliding down his face as he watches the other finishing reading the letter. His mind was spinning with thoughts. Just what was this about? Did Jim have something else planned originally and then this happened instead? He did say something about things getting out of hand. But then does he really still have control? Richard can’t see a way that he could. His brother is…was a man of many talents but returning from the dead? It doesn’t seem likely and as much as he insists that Jim is alive, that he would feel it if he was dead, he can’t help but recognize that Sebastian insists on what he saw and he’s been told to stop telling Sebastian Jim’s life still.
“This is…a lot,” Severin says after a minute of silence after finishing the letter, his eyes going back over the words again as though trying to pick up on just what the words mean.
Richard nods, “What do you think it means? There’s just more questions this brings up.”
“I think Jim might have given this letter to someone to deliver to us if he wasn’t back by a certain time and he didn’t come back. Or maybe he put it there himself to pick back up when he returns but then he died and we found it. I don’t think it’s anything to look into, other than the order of keeping Seb safe.”
For a moment, Richard pauses, considering before speaking up, “You know, maybe we should ask him if he wants to move back in here, with us?” He suggests, “That way he’s no longer alone and, if nothing else, it will get him out of their house for a while. Tell him he can keep it if he wants but we can watch him and make sure he’s okay.”
“Are you sure you’re okay with that?” Severin asks, “I mean I know you two don’t really get along well and if you don’t want to we can just keep checking up on him.”
Richard shakes his head, “No, we should do this and we’ve been getting along more recently. I mean I know there’s the whole thing of me wanting to believe Jimmy’s alive, but I think he wants to believe that too. Just, Severin, can we?”
Truthfully, Severin isn’t sure it’s a good idea for Sebastian and Richard to get together and talk about Jim still being alive, he’s sure that will give them both false hope and will keep going until someone gets badly hurt or they realize they have wasted their entire lives waiting and hoping. Still, he nods, agreeing. He does need to keep watch of his big brother, after all.
“Yeah, we can tell him this evening, invite him for dinner, who knows when he last ate, I’m sure it’s been a while and ask him then.”
“Thank you,” Richard says, drinking more of his beer, downing over half of it at once, before cuddling in against Severin’s side.
Holding his husband, Severin sighs, the dishes and contacting his brother can wait. It’s not like the man’s going to have plans for tonight anyway.
***
Sebastian hasn’t been having a good day, or good week, or month, for that matter. Since Jim’s death, everything seems to just keep going downhill.
He’s laying in the middle of the floor, right in front of the couch, feet against it as he stares at the ceiling. Every place he’s sat or laid down he’s only had Jim on his mind, reminding him that Jim chose the furniture, the times they had sex on the couch, on their bed, holding the smaller man in his arms. Even now on the floor, he isn’t away from those memories haunting him. All he has to hold onto now is the hope that he and Richard share and the bottle of whiskey.
Around him is a disaster, DVD cases, books, various little decorative things Jim had bought and left around the house, most of them now broken or chipped, glass and plastic, broken DVDs. He had started trying to put some of Jim’s things away but that hadn’t gone well as he realized that everything was Jim’s. The man is everywhere he looks and he can’t escape it.
He sits up a little and raises the bottle of whiskey, taking a drink of it. Originally he had a glass drinking out of it but decided that only slowed him down. The shot glass is now shattered next to him and his left hand bleeding, not that he can be bothered to care.
He falls back down against the floor, wishing he could just pass out for a while, he hasn’t managed more than an hour of sleep since Jim died and even then it was spread out over three nights. Every time he’s woken up screaming, only to realize that the nightmare was also his reality.
Then an idea comes to mind and he pushes himself up again, this time to his feet and stumbles for a moment before regaining his footing. He makes his way to the medicine cupboard and finds some of the meds Jim had for sleeping. Without thinking, he gets out two of them and downs them with the whiskey he’s holding onto, as though it was the solution to bring Jim back to him. A week in and it hasn’t worked yet.
Without bothering to put the bottle back, Sebastian makes his way into the library that Jim had worked to have installed for him and filled with books, some his favorites, some new for him to read. Looking around, it was almost too painful knowing Jim was the one to organize it but it was one of the few rooms that was more him than Jim and a place that Jim didn’t spend much time. He falls down onto the leather couch, laying on his stomach and hiding his face in one of the cushions, the grip on the bottle never slacking.
Thankfully, it doesn’t take him long to pass out into a dreamless sleep for the first time in a week.
He’s not sure what he expected, that sleep would fix it all, that he would sleep the rest of his life away or that Jim would, by some miracle, would be there when he wakes up, but none of that happens.
Instead, he feels himself being shaken but knows immediately it’s not Jim, no, the feeling is much too rough for that. Jim might be rough with him but whoever is doing this is much stronger than Jim, the hand too large.
“Come on, Sebastian, you idiot, what have you done?” Severin. It was Severin shaking him.
He reaches a hand around behind him to knock his brother’s hand off him, “Stop,” He mumbles into the cushion before slowly moving, turning around and sitting up, only now realizing that his bottle of whiskey is gone and his right hand is empty.
He glares at his brother, “Where is my whiskey and the hell do you want?” He asks as he sits and rubs his hands over his face, “And what time is it?” He adds.
Severin sighs, “I took it, I don’t know how much you had but that bottle was almost empty and that’s more than enough. That with the state of your house and I would say you passed enough days ago,” He states. “Rich and I have come to talk to you about some things and It’s 5,” He replies before adding, “In the evening.”
“Wasn’t it just night?” He asks, looking around the room for some sign of the lighting outside but not finding one, the room being an interior one with no windows.
“Jesus, Seb,” Severin says, tiredly, “We were waiting for you to wake up and it was a couple hours and nothing. I didn’t know you had been asleep that long. But, listen, there’s something Richard and I want to talk to you about.”
“What could you two possibly want?” Sebastian asks, falling back down, laying on his back, looking at the ceiling.
Richard walks in at that time, carrying a glass of water and a couple pieces of toast that he sits on the table by the couch Sebastian is laying on.
“Your kitchen is basically empty, what have you been eating?” He asks, going to sit on the arm of the chair that Severin was in.
“The food that was in the kitchen,” He replies, dryly, “What the hell do you want? Either tell me or just get out.”
A sigh leaves Severin, clearly frustrated by his brother, “Eat the toast, drink the water and, while you do, we’ll talk.”
Rolling his eyes, Sebastian sits up, starting with a piece of toast, “Talk,” He orders, mouth full. “This is a very bland meal.”
“Well, maybe if you didn’t have the most depressing kitchen supply I’ve ever seen,” Richard starts.
His hand going to Richard’s back, Severin interrupts, “Not the point. Or, perhaps it is. We were talking about asking you to move back in. It’s clear that being here isn’t helping you any and at least at our place all signs of him are gone.” He has gotten used to not referring to Jim by name unless one of the others has first. “It would be good for you to get out, be around some other people who know what you’re going through.”
“You don’t know shit,” Sebastian says, jumping in before Severin can continue, pausing only to drink half the glass of water, “You two are just wanting me out of here to keep an eye on me, you don’t trust me. I have Tiger and Schrödinger. I don’t need anyone else.”
Richard and Severin share a look before the younger speaks up, “Sebastian, where are those two now? We haven’t seen them,” He comments softly.
“The bedroom, they were asleep in there.” He replies, gesturing in the vague direction.
“You’ve been asleep for what sounds like close to twenty four hours. How do you know they’re still there?” He asks but doesn’t pause for an answer, “Think about it. They need help too, someone to make sure they’re getting fed and taken care of. And you can say we don’t know what you’re going through and maybe we don’t feel it the exact same way but I did lose my brother,” The words are barely even a whisper, his voice breaking as he says the words for the first time, having insisted until now that Jim is still alive but, if he was, wouldn’t he have shown himself by now? “He was part of me, I could feel him and he’s been by my side since we were conceived. I know we have often been jealous of each other and I think that shows that we were both really close to him. I’ve been feeling that too.”
Sebastian looks up at Richard, a tear sliding down his face for the first time since he held Jim’s dead body against his own. “How are you so okay?” He whispers out after a second when he thinks he can trust his voice.
“Because I let Severin help me. Because I know Jim would want me to keep on. And I know that if, by some chance, he is alive, he would want me to still be here when he comes back.” He replies simply, “So, let us help you and you can help us. Bring the kittens and some of your clothes and come to the flat with us. At least for a while and just see if it helps.”
For a moment, they’re all silent, waiting for the reply as Sebastian thinks the words over and then, finally, he nods.
“Yeah, okay, for a week and we’ll see then,” He agrees.
Standing up, brushing his hands over his pants, Richard nods, “Come on then, start packing up some and we’ll take you back with us this evening.”
Sebastian nods and pushes himself to his feet and then almost falls back onto the couch that he’s just stood up from. By this point, he’s used to it and just keeps going, not even noticing the worried glances that Severin and Richard share.
Walking through the house, he mostly keeps his eyes trained on the floor, everything else was too painful, Jim was really everywhere and, as much as he doesn’t want to leave the place that he can feel Jim the most, he knows he needs to get out because now the feeling is suffocating, holding him down, making him unable to breath, to live. It’s too much pain, but Sebastian always was a masochist.
Once he arrives outside the bedroom door, he pauses, body seeming to refuse passing the doorway into the other room. He hasn’t sat foot in the room since the night after Jim died when he got some of his clothes out so he wouldn’t have to face it again. Now he’s not sure he can still.
With a deep breath, he forces his foot up off the ground and pushes it into the bedroom and he has to do the same thing with the other foot. Once he’s fully in the room, he looks around and everything is just normal. Jim’s little box of tie clips and cufflinks on the dresser, his cologne next to it, an extra pair of shoes right next to the closet door, things that are so Jim, things that have been his normal for the last twenty years.
Fuck, it’s been twenty years of Jim. Almost half his life, over half of Jim’s and yet it has seemed like days. How’s he ever going to learn how to live without him again? Or did he even know how to live before he met Jim? He doesn’t think that could be considered true living.
The weight of his thoughts or some other invisible force presses down on him and he falls to his knees, pain shooting through them but that is nothing compared to the deep, stabbing pain in his heart. He drops his head down into his hands and sobs openly, body shaking with each breath he takes. Whatever he thought pain was before was nothing. He would gladly take the tiger if it meant not having to feel the pain of living without Jim.
He’s not sure how long he’s there but it goes until he’s certain there are no more tears for him to cry, he’s tired, exhausted and his knees are hurting significantly more than they were when he first fell to the ground.
After a moment where he catches his breath and collects himself a little, he starts to stand, just noticing that Tiger and Schrödinger had climbed onto his lap during his cry and were curled around each other. Rather than trying to get up and having to move them, he sits back and crosses his legs, holding onto the cats for a moment.
“Seb, you okay?” Severin asks, walking towards him down the hall minutes later. He had heard the crying but thought his brother would prefer it if he didn’t come in on the middle of him sobbing, and so he waited until he was sure it was done.
Sebastian looks up from the two balls of fluff on his lap to nod, “Yeah, I am now,” He replies, voice rough from the crying and not bothering to wipe the drying tears on his face, knowing it would be pointless. His face was already tearstained and red anyway and there was no way Severin and Richard hadn’t heard him crying.
“Any closer to getting packed? Or do you want some help?” He asks, stopping in the doorway since he couldn’t get through and not certain he would be welcome into the bedroom even if he could.
Shaking his head, Sebastian stands up, letting the cats jump from his lap, “No, I can get this. Though if you and Richard could get these two ready,” He says, motioning to the cats, “The foods in the kitchen, as are their bowls. They have a crate you can put them in by the door, under the little table. Just grab a couple of the toys that are scattered around the house and throw them in there with them. Oh, and litter box is in the bathroom, might need to be cleaned.” He adds as he goes to get his own clothes, things he doesn’t care nearly as much about, just pulling them out of drawers or out of the closet and cramming them into his suitcase.
Severin laughs softly, thinking that maybe Sebastian had been taking better care of the kittens during the last week than he suspected as he goes to start gathering up their things.
It doesn’t take Sebastian too much time the way he’s going, not bothering to fold or organize. Once he has enough clothes in his bag to last the week, he goes into the bathroom, pulling out his body wash, toothbrush, toothpaste, razor, anything else he can find that he might need over the next week.
Then, as he’s about to walk out of the bathroom, he pauses, seeing the bottle of pills he had earlier (or was it last night?) sitting on the counter. He picks them up and throws them into the bag too, deciding he might need them. Then he makes his way out of the room, through the bathroom and out and then finds his way to Severin and Richard.
“Ready to go?” Severin asks, looking over at his brother as Richard gets Tiger into his carrier, finishing up the kitten packing.
Sebastian starts to nod and then pauses, making his way back through the house and grabbing a couple of books he had been wanting to read and throwing them into his bag before returning to them. If he’s going to be trying to work through everything, the occasional distraction and escape might be helpful.
“Yeah, okay, I’m ready now,” He replies, getting his bag and Tiger’s cage, then goes on out to climb into the back seat of the car, leaving the other two to follow.
Picking up Schrödinger’s carrier, Severin looks over at Richard, both still more than a little concerned about Sebastian and the complete mood switch is more unsettling than the sobbing from earlier. Neither of them know what to do about it but they follow out to the car, Richard closing and locking the door to the house as Severin goes to sort Tiger out in the back of the car with Sebastian.
Once they’re all in the car and ready, Richard starts the car and takes them all back to the flat that the four of them had shared what felt like so very long ago.
The trip is spent in silence, none of them knowing what to say to start a conversation and so they decide it’s best to just say nothing at all, still the silence isn’t uncomfortable, Richard driving, Severin thinking about his brother and Sebastian staring out the window, too caught up in his own thoughts to even notice the world passing him by. The good mood he was in as they were leaving the house was momentary and long gone by now.
It could be moments or days later that Richard is stopping the car in front of the building they live in and getting out, going around to open the door and get one of the kittens cages out, Severin following along behind him to get the other, leaving Sebastian to grab his bag and follow them into the building and up to the flat.
Only once the kittens have been let out and Sebastian is the room he and Jim shared once, putting his things away do any of them speak.
“I can’t decide if he’s better or worse than I was expecting,” Severin whispers to Richard as the two walk into the kitchen area and begin trying to come up with something to eat, thinking it would be a good idea to get something more than dry toast into their new flatmate.
Richard nods, “He went from really not okay to even more not okay then he was fine,” He sighs, “How does your brother work?” He asks, leaning against the taller man, closing his eyes.
“No one knows the answer to that one except my brother. And sometimes I think even he doesn’t know,” he replies, honestly. “Come on, we’ll make sandwiches, he likes those and we can go from there. It’s never a good sign if he turns down food.”
Richard nods, then pauses as a thought occurs to him, “Do you think we should get rid of the alcohol we have? I mean it seemed like he was drinking a lot more of it than he should have been. Maybe we should get rid of anything that might tempt him?”
“Maybe,” Severin replies, “But it’s not like we have anything that hard around here anyway, unless you’re hiding a stash somewhere?” He asks, teasing.
Richard laughs a little and shakes his head, “You know I’m not. Just beer is all we have, right?”
Severin nods, “Yeah, that’s all we ever have and even at that I think we only have a six pack left. I think we’ll be okay for now and see where things are going tomorrow, if they’re gone then we know we have a problem on our hands and shouldn’t get anymore. Sound good?”
“Yeah, sounds good,” Richard replies, getting the things out they’ll be needing to make sandwiches, sneaking a bite for the kittens who have joined them.
“I saw that,” Severin warns playfully, making Richard laugh a little.
It’s a couple minutes later that Sebastian walks out of the room and goes to sit at the table, pulling a chair out to watch the other two, knowing well that he shouldn’t make any move to help them in the kitchen. That was a lesson he had learned long ago.
“So, what are the two of you making?” He asks when no one speaks up.
“Sandwiches, almost done,” Severin replies, putting the top slices of bread on the three of them before carrying them over to the table and sitting them down, one in front of each and then going to grab some packets of crisps to eat with them as Richard grabs them each a water from the fridge, deciding it would be the best option. If Sebastian hasn’t been taking care of himself then he’s sure he hasn’t been drinking water and at least they managed some vegetables and fruits on the sandwiches. Small steps.
The three of them begin to eat in silence, mostly because Severin and Richard are watching Sebastian while trying to make it look like they’re not, just to see if he’s going to eat any of the food or not.
They hadn’t needed to worry though, as they sit down and begin to eat, Sebastian does the same, taking a large bite of the sandwich and chewing as he makes a grab for some of the crisps. He always was on to eat his feelings, just glad he has a high metabolism and obsession with exercise to combat it.
After they finish dinner, Sebastian stands up and collects the plates, deciding to do the washing up and leaving Severin and Richard to go on to bed, it is late, after all.
Sebastian sighs into the quiet once they’re gone, finishing up sorting the dishes before going to flop back on the couch, mind racing with what he could be doing, what might help, anything to get Jim off his mind. He feels confident that he’s helped ease the worry on his brother’s and Richard’s mind but he doesn’t feel any different. No matter where he is, it doesn’t change the fact that he’s alone and Jim is dead, that Severin still has Richard there with him and he’s like a live-in third-wheel now.
For a moment he considers searching and finding out what kind of alcohol they have, finding anything that might help him forget, even if he hasn’t found anything to help with that yet. The only thing that stops him is remembering Richard doesn’t like whiskey, the sight, smell, and taste of it so he’s certain if they have anything it won’t be strong enough.
Then he remembers it’s London. Pushing himself off the couch, he makes sure to be quiet. He goes to pull on his boots and slides out of the flat, grabbing one of the keys off the table by the door as he goes, just so he has a way in when he returns.
Once he’s out of the flat, he takes a deep breath and leaves the building. The plan is to buy a few bottles of whiskey, making sure he has extra for the next few nights at least, then come back, down one and take a couple of the sleeping pills and hopefully he’ll be out for the night then.
But it doesn’t seem like things are going to work in his favor. He walks into a small shop, a sign in the window saying they have alcohol and then finds they only have beer in stock. So he walks out, going to find another place. Completely out.
At this point, it’s just a strange coincidence, right? What kind of party is going on that every place is sold out of alcohol, he wonders, and where can he get an invite?
Nevertheless, he continues on and he continues to hear the same sort of story about how they don’t have anything, sold out, never carried anything more than light alcohol. And Sebastian isn’t about to buy enough of the watered down stuff to get him pass-out drunk.
So, instead, he goes back to the flat, gets himself a cup of water to take the meds with, feeling annoyed and a little pissed about his luck.
It’s not the way he wants to go but three of the pills later and he can’t bring himself to care any more about the lack of alcohol and, soon enough, he’s drifting off into a deep, dreamless sleep.