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"KATHANI!" Anthony screamed, thunder dulling the sounds of his desperation as he watched the woman he'd grown to love violently thrown from her mount. A blind panic washed over him, chilling his blood to ice. He could've sworn his heart had stopped, had he not been able to feel its frantic rhythm pounding in his ears. Time seemed to stutter as he raced to her side, finding her eyes peacefully shut, not even a twitch at the pounding rain battering her body.
"No no no no no," was all that seemed to tumble forth from his mouth, crescendoing when he reached for her and came away with bloodied hands. For a moment he stared incomprehensibly the blood coating his fingers. Bile rose in his throat when his eyes settled on the rock that Kate had struck her head against. Joining in the cacophany now, his thoughts screaming this is your fault, this is all your fault.
The next minutes - or maybe hours - passed in flashes of panic and color. Anthony taking Kate in his arms, rushing her home while pleading with her to stay with him, his heart seizing every time he glanced down at her pale face.
When he came back into his body, he was staring down at Kate in the bed in front of him, being attended to by the surgeon. Benedict had come up next to him, was addressing him, but Anthony wasn't processing his words. A heavy hand came down on his shoulder, just as he finally heard Benedict saying his name. Anthony finally met his eyes, and Benedict's expression changed, darkened with worry. Time stuttered again as Benedict led him from the room and sat him down in the parlor. Outside, the storm raged, the sky pitch black and roiling.
"Anthony, breathe," Ben was on his knees in front of Anthony now, holding his gaze.
It was only then that Anthony registered the panicked, gasping breaths coming from him, and became aware of the burning in his chest and the room spinning around him. Yet still, he couldn't catch his breath, every cell in his body screaming for oxygen.
"Anthony," Benedict said again, reaching out to place both hands on his shoulders. "You need to breathe." He demonstrated, taking exaggerated breaths for Anthony to mimic. Anthony took a few shuddering breaths, though his eyes continued to glaze over with dizziness.
"It's - my - fault," Anthony gasped, his voice a fear panicked whisper.
"Come here," Benedict ordered, gently pulling his brother forward to lean his head between his knees. "Before you pass out." He shifted his grip, placing one hand on Anthony's back and moving it in soothing circles. "It will be alright, I'm right here."
Minutes passed, the rhythm of the rain keeping time, as Anthony's sharp gasps started to turn to wracking sobs. Benedict leaned forward, wrapping his arms tightly around his older brother, supporting him through his broken cries and feeling the full force of his body's violent shaking. He couldn't remember a time when Anthony had been this vulnerable. It would have been touching if not so unnerving; Benedict's heart both warmed and broken for his brother. The younger shielding the older as wave after wave of emotion crashed and broke over him.
After what must have been close to half an hour, the commotion in the hall had started to fade. It was replaced only with intermittent sets of footsteps, one of which seemed to be hesitantly approaching the door. Benedict raised his head, ready to glare daggers at whoever dared to intrude. Instead, he found himself looking at Colin, backlit by glowing candelight.
"Is he alright?" Came Colin's anxious inquiry through the darkness. Anthony didn't even look up at the sound of Colin's voice. Benedict frowned, pulling back to glance down at their brother. He could tell he had exhausted himself, his sobs starting to fade. The trembling, however, had not calmed. By the time Benedict had looked towards Colin to answer, Colin had already crossed the room to their sides.
Meeting Colin's eyes, Benedict could only murmur "he will be" as a response. "Col, will you get him a glass of water? And then we need to make sure he gets into warm clothes and into bed before he catches his death." Colin nodded, leaning forward to squeeze Anthony's shoulder before heading out to fetch water.
"Anthony," Benedict started again, meeting his brother's red-rimmed eyes. "Kate will be alright. Col and I are going to make sure that you are alright as well. I don't care what's happened, but I will tell you until I am blue in the face that none of this is your fault. I know you don't believe me right now, but I will repeat it until you do. And in the meantime, I am here. So is Colin, and Daphne, and Mother, and Eloise, and even Greg and Hyacinth if you think listening to bickering will get your mind off things. I know you are used to taking care of the family. But for now, just keep breathing, and we'll take care of the rest."
Anthony's eyes gleamed with unshed tears, his face reflecting the magnitude of his shame. "Thank you," he murmured. "I'm sorry."
Benedict smiled gently. "Brother, you have nothing to be sorry for. I am grateful that I am able to be here for you, as you have been here for us so many times."
A few errant tears stole their way back down Anthony's face as Colin re-entered, a glass of water in one hand and a wet cloth in the other. Without preamble, he took Anthony's hand and washed the blood off of it. He quickly took the bloody cloth out of sight and placed the water in Anthony's hand.
"Can't have you dirtying the good china, after all," Colin smirked.