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Connor always felt like he was being watched among the infinite darkness.
It engulfed him with every step he took forward.
It was well late into the night, the foster home lights having already been ordered to be out hours ago, as the seven year old made his way down the narrow dark hallway without pause, relying on sore muscle memory to carefully avoid the discolored floorboards he knew creaked under sudden weight.
Despite being a planned out routine, it never calmed the growing apprehension that loomed in the back of his mind of being caught awake.
Especially when knowing what consequences would follow.
When he reached his desired destination, he let out a breath of relief as he stood before the familiar brown chipped door.
Reaching up, he took hold of the loose metal knob, twisted it, and pushed it open, where he was met with a small quaint room being casted in a moonlight glow.
Walking across the carpeted floor, he came to a stop beside the only bed in the room, watching the lone figure that laid on top with observant eyes.
“Colin.”
From the lack of response and steady breathing, Connor might’ve thought that his twin brother was sleeping, and out of respect, would've just left him in the peaceful state.
But then fingers curled around the top wrapped blanket.
It was subtle, but Connor caught it nonetheless.
“Colin, I know you're awake. I can see your fingers moving.”
Connor’s lip tugged upwards in amusement at seeing those said fingers being pulled from view.
“Now you're making this too easy.”
With a grumble of incomprehensible words, his twin shifted to the side, where he glanced down at him from the corner of his eye.
“What do you want, Connor?”
The said twin took that as an invitation to climb up onto the bed.
“I wanted to talk to you.” He began, laying back on his knees expectantly.
“Well I don’t. Goodbye.” His twin concluded, laying back down.
Connor huffed, already crawling towards his brother. “This is serious Colin, I need to speak with you.”
When he didn’t get a response, Connor did the only sensible thing he knew would get a reaction.
He jumped onto his twin.
“Colin, Colin, wake up Colin!” He whispered loudly.
Before Connor could react, his twin turned over with a sudden force and shoved him back hard with a scowl.
“Connor, get off me!”
Connor frantically his arms rapidly as he tumbled off the bed side with an ‘oof’.
After passing a dazed moment, he sat up, rubbing his aching head before standing back up.
Crossing his arms, he frowned at his twin disapprovingly.
“You shouldn’t push people off beds, Colin.”
The said twin was now sitting up himself, glaring in return. “Go away Connor.”
Connor ignored the comment as he made his way back onto the bed. Noticing the way his twin curled in on himself, he studied him with worry. “Are you okay?”
He was met with a burning sneer. “I said go away.”
Connor blinked, pausing in thought. “I was worried about you, you know.” He suddenly admitted, before his twin could utter another word to shoo him out. “You always say you don’t care about our foster families.” His eyes gleamed with sorrow.
“I think you did today though.”
For a quick flash Colin looked taken aback, before shrugging off the concern comment just as fast with an annoyed frown.
His non caring remark betrayed his unknowingly guarded eyes.
“Well don’t be. I’m fine.”
“Colin..”
“I’m fine.”
When silence passed between the two brothers, neither of them moving an inch, Colin heavily let out a sigh, his brows bunching together in frustration at the sudden subconscious feeling of being put on the spot by his brother’s gaze.
He crossed his arms, turning away. “I don’t need you to worry about me Connor.” He huffed.
His expression suddenly broke into confusion when he felt his hand being grabbed. Glancing back, Connor was still staring at him, a frown tugging at his lips.
“That’s what brothers do though.” He broke into a sad, soft smile. “I can’t help but not to.”
Colin studied him for a bit, before dropping his gaze down towards their joined hands, a sudden warm feeling oozing in the pit of his stomach.
Before he could utter a reply, however, the feeling vanished at the sudden sound of a door creaking open, their hands breaking apart as both their heads snapped towards the direction in alarm.
It was like an instant wave of relief washed over them upon seeing a familiar pair of blue eyes stare back at them from the dark corridor.
“Oh great.” Colin rolled his eyes. “Here comes the baby.”
Quiet as a mouse, their little brother scurried across the floor towards them, wrapped in a blanket as he climbed up onto the bed.
He kept his gaze downwards as he began twirling a piece of string around his fingers, remaining quiet. Connor blinked, studying his behavior inquisitively. “Caleb? What’s wrong?”
When his brother didn’t respond, Connor furrowed his eyebrows in worry.
Leaning in close, he searched his brother’s blue eyes. “Caleb? Please tell me what’s wrong.” His voice came out soft, soothing.
After a moment of silence, Caleb sniffed. Making eye contact with his older brother, his lips quivered as he spoke.
“I miss mommy.” He whimpered, unshed tears gathering in his eyes.
Connor felt his heart clench.
His twin growled beside him.
“Well mommy isn’t coming back.” Colin snapped, a sudden spark of anger exploding inside him. “She didn’t want us or you, what part of her leaving don’t you understand?”
The amount of venom he spat out made both Connor and Caleb flinch.
Colin froze.
Caleb’s breath hitched as he stared at Colin with wide eyes, seemingly frozen in place himself.
"I-."
The middle twin went quiet, lifting his hands in a non threatening gesture towards his younger brother, seemingly trying to try to say something, anything, but ultimately couldn't utter a word past his lips as they kept opening and closing in disbelief.
His hands flinched back when Caleb's face suddenly scrunched up, and before either twin could do anything, a mixture of fear and hurt flashed between their little brother's eyes, causing Colin to instantly deflate into guilt on the spot.
Bursting into tears, Caleb’s shuddering wails pierced through the silent night.
Moving quickly, Connor pulled his distressed little brother into his arms, wrapping around him tightly as Caleb buried his head into his thin pajama shirt.
“I’m sorry.”
Connor glanced towards his twin.
“I’m so sorry.” Colin gasped, covering his mouth with trembling hands. “Caleb…” He choked out in horror.
He made eye contact with his elder brother.
“I-I didn’t mean it!” His voice rose as panic seeped into his frantic breathing. “I don't know why I-." He cut himself looking genuinely lost at what to do or say. "I didn’t mean to make him cry, I’m so sorry!”
The way Connor noticed his twin backing away like a scared animal made his heart clench with unexplainable fear that he was going to run away and cry alone in some dark corner that before his brain could process what he was doing, he shot his hand out and grabbed Colin’s wrist.
With a silent plea begging for him to stay, the middle brother didn’t resist as he allowed himself to be pulled forward into a warm embrace, where he internally focused on letting a familiar string of calm, soothing words to ground him.
It felt like hours had passed before Colin could safely resume steady breaths, and Caleb's wails had all but died down into occasional sniffs.
The three sat there, content in each other's presence that neither of them moved, a silent agreement passed between them of not wanting the moment to end.
With closed eyes, Connor solemnly reflected back on everything that had transpired over the course of a few days. Unlike their previous homes, The Hemingtons, their most recent foster family, were generally a nice couple who cared for the boys' every need, and took the time to listen to them whenever they had a problem, followed by certain little other actions that spoke volumes of their character.
Maybe it was the way their foster mom would cut the crust off from their peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, or the way their foster father would play football with them after coming home from school, that resulted in a blindly misplaced trust that they could finally live their dream of becoming a family, was all the more reason it hurt the moment the boys took one look at their packed suitcases, and instantly understood what that entailed.
Despite knowing how the system worked, moving between foster homes was never easy for the three brothers.
Connor had felt a spark of anger at first, an emotion that only intensified as he watched their case worker pull his little teary-eyed brother away from the women who had been labeled as their mother.
It was the same spark that had melted into a pit of gloom when he studied his twin, the way he curled in himself in an guarded attempt to cope from the hurt of their lost, false sense of security.
And then from that melted gloom, Connor had only felt a pit of numbness as he watched their illusioned family disappear in a blink of the eye.
It wasn't hard putting the pieces together once Connor had allowed himself to examine all the evidence.
The Hemingtons, just like all those before them, only wanted to adopt one child. A boy, nonetheless, and had only agreed to take them all on, in sort of a testing trial for which brother they wanted.
In the end, however, It was a desired dream of becoming a family by both sides that fell flat.
Was it wrong of Connor to take that dream away from one of his brothers, due to his own selfless desires and pleas of wanting to stay together?
Or was it wrong of their case worker to not have simply denied the request of the family in the beginning from taking them in, and thus saving them from the more everlasting, emotional scars that dug deep in their skin, all due to the ever growing knowledge that once they hit teen years, it would be almost impossible to be adopted?
Perhaps it would forever be a necessary evil for both sides of an ever spinning coin.
“Connor?”
Hearing his name being called, the said twin was pulled out of his thoughts as he opened his eyes.
He shifted his head in Colin’s direction.
It was silent for a moment, as if his twin had seemingly changed his mind and just decided to backtrack in whatever he wanted to say. And for a quick second, Connor would’ve almost believed his twin had just simply fallen asleep.
But then Colin did speak again.
And his voice was quiet.
Tired.
Broken.
“Why doesn’t anybody want us?”
Connor squeezed his eyes shut. There was a sudden, and unexplainable feeling that bubbled up from his chest.
A feeling that threatened to escape from his quivering lips.
It was a painfully familiar thing.
When his hands began to shake, he tightened his hold on his brothers, silently hoping neither of them noticed.
Connor thought about all the foster families they had stayed with, and thought about those who they would one day meet.
It broke them down a bit, each time they would enter a new home, only to leave in a blink of an eye.
It was an immeasurable amount of pain that made them seek out for one another, under the disguise of darkness, when it all became too much.
He wouldn’t wish that kind of pain on anybody.
He wouldn’t wish this pain on his brothers.
They were his entire world.
And he loved them more than anything.
A bittersweet smile graced Connor’s lips.
There was nothing he wouldn’t do for them.
When the bubbling feeling had finally dissipated, and his slightly hitched breathing returned steady once more, Connor pushed it all back down, where he locked it into a chamber within him, tossing the key away.
He needed to be strong, for them.
“We don’t need a mom or dad to be a family Colin.”
His voice came out soft, reassuring.
He was going to be the glue whenever they fell apart.
“You two have me, and I have you.”
He would fill the aching hole a temporary home couldn’t fill.
And be the thing they didn’t realize they so desperately needed.
Connor was going to be..
Their missing piece.
It was a promise he would never break.
“That’s the best family I could ever wish for.”
With those words having left Connor’s lips, Colin stiffened in his hold, before hesitatingly shifting his body around. Without another word said, he hid his face in the crook of Connor’s neck, where a sudden cool feeling of liquid began soaking Connor’s pajama shirt, once more.
They stayed like that, for an unknown amount of time, where they simply enjoyed being in each other’s presence.
And when Connor’s eyelids begin to droop, he directs himself and his brothers to lay back onto the bed, where they would be most comfortable, instead of falling asleep sitting upwards.
Neither of them protested at the sudden shift change, for they already had lost their own battles against exhaustion.
And without even needing a blanket, Connor felt the warmest he’s ever felt as he laid there, his brothers wrapped protectively in his arms.