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Michael sat behind the speaker system on the roof of the apartment complex, twirling his mic in his hand.
"It was only just a few weeks ago," a dark voice in his head began, "when Keith and his girlfriend hid right here as…"
"No!" He straightened his back, arguing against it, "I'm not going to think about that! Tonight is going to be a good night. Keith and I are going to have a fun, light-hearted rap battle, maybe tease each other a bit. Talk, joke, the usual routine."
A smile spread across his face as he reminisced, thinking of all of the nights he'd spend with his little brother. All the laughter, the stupid little arguments, and wild antics that only the 19-year-old could think of.
"Yep. It's gonna be a good night."
For Michael, spending time with his family was where he was the happiest. After that first run in with that misguided angel, feeling safe enough to be near them was almost impossible. It took a lot of work, and a lot of support (and pushing) from Keith, but he finally came to the point where returning to his family didn't seem so daunting.
"Beep B?" He jumped slightly as a voice pulled him from his thoughts.
Michael peeked from behind the speakers, and upon seeing his little rapper brother, grinned as a devious idea popped in his head. Keith slowly approached the speakers, calling out for his brother again, unaware that that was exactly what he wanted.
When he was finally close enough, the older one jumped up from behind the speakers with a loud shout, causing the younger to scream as he fell flat on his butt.
"Gotcha!" Michael yelled around his laughter.
"Asshole!" Keith shouted in reply.
Michael walked around the speakers, offering a hand to his brother to help him up. Keith grumbled as he took it.
"Sorry, little man, I just couldn't pass up the chance." He looked at his brother, a smile turning into a frown, not liking what he saw.
"Damn," He cursed in his head, "he looks freaking awful. I can feel him shaking a bit, too. Not good. Did he just not sleep last night, or did he catch that flu that's been going around?... Or maybe it's…"
Before his brain could finish that sentence, Michael forced the idea away.
"Uh… you okay, dude?" He asked, "If I'm being honest, you look like death warmed over, and trust me, I know what that looks like."
"I'm fine." Keith muttered, "You just caught me off guard, is all."
Michael raised an eyebrow, "You sure, man?"
"Yeah, I'm sure! You worry too much, man! C'mon, let's get rapping! Unless you're stalling 'cause you're scared I'm gonna wipe the floor with ya?"
"I'm not scared! Bring. It. On!"
"Funk yeah!"
Truth be told: Michael was a little worried. Not about losing; he would happily lose to his little brother just to see him smile. He was worried about the fact that Keith was obviously ignoring his health… and maybe something else. Call it his brother's intuition, but Michael always knew when something was bothering his siblings, even if they were good at hiding it.
Instead of the usual fast paced, rapid-fire lyrics the boys would usually spit at one another, Michael took it a bit slower, knowing Keith would mimic his tempo. He kept his gaze focused on his younger brother the entire time, taking mental notes of how he's swaying a bit more than normal, putting more effort into sustaining his notes. He almost missed his cue as one thought kept recurring:
"That's not normal for him at all."
When the song finally ended, Keith took a step back, pumping his fist in the air to celebrate his win as he caught his breath.
"Damn, Michael!" He playfully chided, "Were you even trying?! That was too easy!"
The older brother chuckled, "Looks like you caught me! I just wanted to give you a win before I really go all out. Not really fair to you if you spend all night losing to your big brother!"
"You don't have to go easy on me, BB! I've been through a whole lot worse!"
That comment broke the playful tone of the moment, making Michael's heart flutter uncomfortably.
"Wait, what?!" His anxiety peaked, "What exactly has he gone through? Could it have been enough to cause this?"
He took a few deep breaths, silently muttering a mantra, until he felt his heart rate calm, hopefully avoiding another episode.
"What do you mean by 'you've been through a whole lot worse'?" He asked, narrowing his eyes in concern as Keith flinched in response.
"I-it's nothing, man!" The younger quickly tried to dodge his question. "Really, it's nothing! Let's just get back to rapping!"
"Chill, dude. I was just asking! You know I worry about you."
"Like I said, you worry too much! It was nothing, I'm fine, let's just keep going!"
"Nice job, Michael." He internally chastised himself. "Mom always said that Keith acted like my mirror as a kid, trying to do everything I did. Of course he's still looking up to me, and picking up on some of the habits I'm working on leaving behind. Letting him push himself to his limit is only gonna make things worse, but I can't force him to stop if he doesn't want to…"
He let out a sigh, "Alright, man. But if you feel off, just tap out, okay?"
Keith flashed a cocky grin, "Thanks for the reminder, but I won't need it!"
Their second song started off without a hitch. Keith took the lead for this one, hitting the notes as fast as he could. If he were honest, Michael did have a hard time keeping up with him. But as the music continued, it became apparent that Keith was really struggling to maintain his facade. He began to stammer and trip over his words, as if he was going too fast for even himself. His swaying became more dangerous, and his voice began to waver due to his mic shaking along with his hand. Michael never took his eyes off of him, not even for a second. He stood on high alert, ready to act if needed.
As the music began to fade out, he cautiously approached his little brother. "You okay?" He asked, placing a hand on Keith's shoulder.
"He's obviously not okay, why even ask?!"
The younger merely glanced at him, more focused on grabbing the sides of arms, as if it would stop his violent tremors from showing. "I'm fine…" he murmured, "just… a little dizzy."
The words barely left his mouth before his knees gave out, causing him to fall forward.
"Keith!" Michael acted without a second thought, quickly tossing his mic to the side before grabbing his brother and lowering him to the ground.
"Woah! Hey!" He yelped, pulling Keith closer to him. "Take it easy, man. I've got ya."
Keith only whined in reply, letting his mic fall to the ground beside him. Michael placed his hand on his brother's forehead, humming a low tone when he didn't like what he felt.
"Yeah, that confirms it. Whatever he's been doing stressed him out enough to set off one of his fevers."
"Okay, that's it." He said, "We're done for the night. You've got a fever. Why didn't you tell me you weren't feeling well?"
The young rapper muttered something, but Michael couldn't make it out.
"What was that?"
"I wanted to spend time with you."
"But you shouldn't be pushing yourself while you're this sick! If you chose to stay home, I wouldn't have been upset at all."
"Bee do boo skep beop de bip."
Michael sighed hearing his brother use his made-up language. He only uses it when he's around people he doesn't know, or if he's uncomfortable. Thankfully, he could decipher the beeps, but still wasn't happy about what the younger said.
"Hey, I'm not planning on going anywhere for a long ass time, bro. Not if I can help it. So, don't even think like that. Now, c'mon, let's get you inside."
Michael slowly stood up, helping his younger brother get to his feet. Keeping one hand on the teenager's back, he used his free hand to pull out his key from the pocket of his hoodie as they walked to the roof access door.
"Dude, your stupid cat won't leave me alone!"
It only took a couple of minutes for the boys to get to Michael's apartment - despite the few stops to keep the young rapper from falling due to his vertigo - and from the moment they entered, the elder's cat was sticking close to the two of them; mainly Keith. The tan and white tabby stood beside the younger brother, who sat on the couch with his head in his hands, rubbing up against his arm and purring all the while, much to Keith's annoyance.
"That's what he does, man." Michael called from the kitchen, "He can sense when you're feeling like crap and will hang around you to make you feel better. At least, that's what he does for me."
He rummaged through his cabinets, letting out a quiet "Yes!" when he finally spotted his thermometer, and pulled it down from its shelf. He quickly took the cap off of the device and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, before walking into the living room.
Keith was now meekly looking at the house cat, holding his head in one hand while petting the animal with the other. The older brother gave a small chuckle of amusement, catching the younger's attention. He laughed harder when the young rapper pouted at the sight of the thermometer.
"I'm not a baby." He whined, "You don't need to take my temperature."
"You sure sound like one when you whine like that." Michael quipped back, "It'll only take, like, what, 30 seconds to check it, man? Humor me."
"Fine." Keith huffed, taking the device from his brother. He took a moment to stick his tongue out at the young adult, before turning it on and placing it underneath it. Michael chuckled some more.
"At least he's still got his attitude." He thought to himself, "That's a good sign."
True to Michael's word, it wasn't long at all before the device beeped. Keith took it out of his mouth and quickly read the display.
"What's it at?" Michael asked, sitting beside his brother. Keith looked at his brother, then the device, then his brother again. The young adult glared at him.
"Well, usually a good sign."
"I'm not gonna fight with you over the damn thermometer like we did when you were 10. Either tell me what it says or just give it to me."
The younger rolled his eyes as he handed the device to the older, who gave him the water bottle in return.
Reading the number on the display, Michael quickly realized why Keith was hesitant to let him know. 102.6° was not a very reassuring number. He glanced over at his brother, who quickly caught him looking as he finished his sip of water.
"Well, uh…" Keith started, "It was nice seeing you again, and thanks for-"
"Oh, HELL NO." Michael cut him off, "Don't you even think about it! There is no way I'm letting you walk home, at night, with that temperature! What if it gets any higher? What if you get hurt, or pass out on the sidewalk?!"
Keith sat quietly, shaken at his brother's outburst, looking at his hands. Michael could tell that he was still trying to hide the fact that he's not well, and was failing. The younger's hands were still trembling, and he was fighting to keep his eyes open. It also didn't help that he was just reamed out by someone he's trusted his whole life.
"Oh, crap." He thought, "I can't believe I just did that. He already feels like shit, and has been trying to hide it all night… probably because he didn't want to make me worry. And I snapped at him for it. I really need to make this right."
He sighed.
"Look, Keith, why don't you stay here with me tonight?"
"Ska bo bee da bop?" He scatted softly.
"It wouldn't be any trouble, man." Michael said calmly, placing his hand on his brother's back again, "No trouble at all. It's honestly the least I could do for you, after everything you've done for me recently. Just text your girl and let her know what's going on, and I'll get everything situated here."
Keith gave his brother a meek look, but nodded in agreement.
With a sigh and a smile, the older reached for a neon colored throw blanket on the back of the couch, and continued to speak, "And, I'm sorry for snapping at you like that. You know that I care about you, and that I love you, but I really shouldn't have aired my concerns that way. Guess I really do worry too much, huh?"
He wrapped the blanket around the younger's shoulders, who accepted it with a grateful beep. He then stood and stretched for a moment.
"I'm gonna go get you a pillow, okay?"
"Okay," the younger hummed, "BB?"
"Yeah, bro?"
"You don't worry too much. If anything, I don't worry about myself enough. Thanks for always taking care of me."
"Anytime, bud."
Tears pricked the corners of Michael's eyes as he tried to quietly stifle a yawn. He took a small glance at the sleeping form laying beside him on the couch, letting out a silent sigh of relief. It wasn't long after he had returned with the pillow that Keith finally let sleep win, curling up under the blanket, not even protesting when his brother's cat decided to lay behind his knees, or when the young adult put a damp cloth on his forehead. Despite it all, he seemed content and comfortable, and the last thing Michael wanted to do was accidentally scare him awake.
Picking up his phone, he flinched at the brightness while checking the time. He may be able to see well in the dark, but that sudden change in light will always be bothersome.
"1:30." He thought to himself, "That's a little early for me to be going to bed, but after tonight…"
Suddenly, the cat jumped from his spot to the floor, the fur of his tail slightly puffed. Michael looked over to Keith, watching him closely as he turned in his sleep, readjusting to find a more comfortable spot.
He let out a faint chuckle. "I guess he scared you, huh?"
The cat only looked at him before bolting to his scratching post, almost knocking it over.
"Or you've just got the zoomies."
"Please don't jump on him, or break something."
He caught another movement out of the corner of his eye, and quickly turned in an attempt to find out what it was, only to bite back a scream.
Keith was now sitting up, staring at the wall behind Michael. If he hadn't known any better, he probably would've thought he was a zombie. Slowly, he reached out to the dazed teen.
"Keith," he whispered, "What's up? You alright?"
The younger one didn't respond, frightening him more. He placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Hey, buddy. Is something wrong?"
In a split second, the teen fell forward, burying his face into his brother's chest and clinging onto his shirt like a lifeline. Michael froze for a moment, before instinctively pulling him into a hug. He could barely make out the half-conscious words spoken by the younger in between the frantic beeps and whimpers that weren't muffled by his own chest.
"What?" He tried to decipher the words, "Whitty? Rosie? Tabi? Filo? Is he just listing names? Are those people he met? Well, whoever- or whatever- they are, they must've shown up in a fever dream and freaked him out."
He gently started rubbing the younger's back, something that's always comforted him in the past. Maybe it'll help him a little.
"It's okay," he reassured, "You're okay. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. I won't let them hurt you."
After what felt like an eternity, but wasn't much longer than a few minutes, Keith had finally settled down, once again staring off into space as he rested his head over Michael's heart; too out of it to comment on the fact that it was beating a little too fast. Michael closed his eyes and took a deep breath, repeating his mantras a couple times over in his head. When he opened them, he looked at his younger brother, brushing the bangs out of his eyes.
"Man, whatever that was, that was intense." He said softly, "You wanna talk about it, or-?"
He trailed off when he noticed that the teen had already closed his eyes, one hand still gripping the fabric of his shirt, dozing peacefully as if that prior meltdown never happened. He smiled at the sight, pulling the blanket that was tossed aside and ignored mere moments ago over him.
"Yeah, you really need some sleep. I guess I should get some, too, huh?"
With a small "mrrrp", his cat jumped on top of his lap. He circled a few times before finally laying down, and began to purr. Michael gave him a few scratches under his chin, to which he purred louder.
"Well, that answers that question."
With one arm wrapped around his little brother, and the other hand resting gently on his cat's back, he closed his eyes. Sleep came easily to him for the first time in a long while.
Sunlight pouring through the windows and the sound of early morning traffic passing by was a welcome wake-up call for Michael. He was used to rising to the balring of his alarm or the cries of the ghosts who came to him for help. He had seen a few of them the night before, watching over him and Keith, but they didn't ask for much at all.
"They were acting a bit odd," he recollected, "but come to think of it, they may have been concerned about him. I did see a couple spirits doting on him when I went to get the cloth."
Now that the sun has risen, the ghosts were nowhere to be found. They'd return come nightfall, but until then, it was just the boys and the cat.
Keith, who had woken up as well, was still curled up against his brother, watching as the cat happily rolled around in a sunbeam that stretched across the floor. He glanced up for a moment, and upon realizing that Michael was now awake, he moved to break free of his brother's embrace with a quiet "Sorry."
The young adult quickly stretched, hoping that he didn't look as hurt as he felt. "No, no worries, man. It's fine. You feeling any better?"
Keith raised a hand, using his wrist to make a "so-so" gesture.
"Not much, huh?"
He shook his head.
"Shit. Sorry, man. I wish there was more I could do to help."
"It's okay. It isn't your fault."
Michael let out a sigh, thinking to himself, "The only way to stop a stress fever is to get rid of the stress causing it. Maybe those people he brought up during his meltdown last night had a hand in causing some of it. He may not like it, but I have to ask."
"Hey, Keith," he started, "Do you remember anything from late last night?"
"No, not really." The younger replied.
"Well, at one point, you woke up and were freaking out about something. Maybe a fever dream, I don't know, but you kept bringing up all these different people."
"What people?" He looked a bit nervous.
"I didn't catch all of them, but I heard 'Whitty', 'Rosie', 'Tabi', and 'Filo'."
Keith looked at his brother in fear.
"Are they friends?.... Or, are they more like that… Angel Freak?"
No response.
"Keith?"
Michael turned to face his brother, and felt his heart sink. His younger brother had brought his knees up to his chest, shaking violently as he grabbed fistfuls of his hair.
"Oh my God! What have I done?! He's starting to panic! I shouldn't have brought them up! Great, now I'M getting anxious! The last thing he needs right now is to see me freak out, or have another episode if I can't get my stupid heart under control! Calm down, Michael. Use your mantras."
Suddenly, he was hit with an idea. He took a deep breath before reaching for the teen.
"Keith." He said as calmly as he could, "Can you look at me, please?"
Doing as his brother asked, the young rapper looked up at him with bleary, tear-filled eyes.
"I want you to do something with me, okay? I'm gonna say a phrase, and I want you to repeat it. You don't need to say it out loud if you don't want to. Just repeat it a couple of times in your head, okay?"
The younger nodded. Michael took a deep breath.
"Okay, ready? This too shall pass."
He waited for a moment, repeating the phrase to himself a few times, before switching to the next one.
"I am safe and under no threat."
Another pause. He quickly glanced at the teen. While he still looked a little overwhelmed, he could see the younger working to focus on the words, instead of the fear. Exactly what he wanted.
"I understand all is well, even if I don't see it yet."
As Michael's heart started to steady back into a normal rhythm, Keith's shaking also began to subside. While they may be simple phrases to most, to the boys, their calming effects are welcomed. After a few moments of quiet, the young rapper broke it with a small laugh.
"Damn," he said, "I'm totally stealing that technique from you."
Michael chuckled in response. "It really helps you that much, huh? Honestly, go for it, man."
"Really?"
"Yeah! I mean: it's not like a secret or anything. A lot of people use it. Basically, by repeating something over and over, it tricks your brain into believing it."
"You probably learned that from your therapist, huh?"
"Uh, yeah, actually."
Keith paused for a few seconds before sighing. "I'm a goddamn hypocrite."
Michael gave him a confused look. "What? Dude, you're not a hypocrite."
Forgetting about his illness, the younger of the two jumped off of the couch, dramatically throwing his brother's blanket on the floor. "YES I AM!" He shouted.
The fever, however, didn't pause for his outburst. Before either of them could react, he plummeted to the floor with a loud thud. Michael wasted no time bolting upright and helping the teen up, inspecting him to see if he was hurt.
"That fall aside, what makes you think like that? That you're a hypocrite?" He asked, as he helped his brother back to the couch.
Keith sighed as he sat down. "It's just… I pushed you to go get help. To see a therapist for your issues, when I can't even think of doing that for myself."
Michael gave him a quizzical look.
"Whitty, Rosie, Tabi, Filo," He continued, "They're all people I've rap battled against. But, they all ended up being a lot more dangerous than I thought, and I really wouldn't realize it until long after the fight was over. At least Whitty doesn't completely hate me anymore after I made him blow up, and even though she tried to shoot me for walking through her park, Rosie chilled out and is a pretty good friend. Tabi still wants GF and me dead; and Filo… She says she's a nurse, but I'm pretty sure she tried to infect me with something after GF and I accidentally stayed past the hospital's visiting hours."
"WHAT THE FUCK?!" Michael tried not to let his fear show through. "This is what he's been dealing with?! No wonder he's stressed! HE'S BEEN RAPPING FOR HIS FUCKING LIFE!"
"But, getting back on track, I've basically been dealing with a lot of crazy and intense stuff, and it's been messing me up. I know, I should go get help, but I feel like I'm the one at fault for getting myself into those problems, and that I kinda-"
Keith jumped as his brother suddenly pulled him into a hug.
"You don't deserve that." Michael whispered, "You don't deserve to live in fear, Keith."
For the second time that morning, the teen began to cry. The elder slightly tightened his embrace, continuing to whisper kind words to him. They remained like that for a while, until Keith calmed down and gently broke free from his brother.
"Thanks, but," he said as he wiped the remaining tears from his eyes, "You don't always have to take care of me like this."
Michael gave him a smile, "C'mon man, I'm your big brother. It's my job to take care of you."
"Since when?"
"Since the day you were born, dumbass!" He gave his little brother a gentle punch to the shoulder, earning a chuckle in response. "Now, I'm gonna go make breakfast for us, okay? Hopefully that fever didn't completely kill your appetite."
Keith smiled, "Awesome! Thanks, BB!"
"And after we're done eating, you're gonna make a phone call to your doctor."
The young rapper looked up at Michael with surprise, only to be met with a look of seriousness that only an older brother could give.
"You're gonna watch me to make sure I actually do it, aren't you?"
"Hey, you did it for me, little bro. The least I can do for you is return the favor." He flashed a snarky grin.
"Asshole."