Work Text:
I will not make the same mistakes that you did
I will not let myself
Cause my heart so much misery
I will not break the way you did,
You fell so hard
I've learned the hard way
To never let it get that far
Anders sat in the centre of his bed, legs drawn up to his chest, forehead resting on his knees in an attempt to fight against the dizziness from the blood loss. His bloodied clothes sticking uncomfortably to his skin as he tried desperately not to cry.
The silence of his flat was deafening. Even Bragi was silent, shoved into the background from his brush with death.
He was alone.
Truly alone.
But that was what he wanted, wasn’t it? As soon as he’d hit twenty-one he’d sworn to never follow in Mike’s footsteps. Never repeat the same mistakes he’d made, trying to bring Val into the family, letting anyone get that close. He’d learnt the hard way that you only get hurt if you let people get that close.
A lesson he’d had a painful refresh of with the whole Helen/Idunn/Gaia fiasco. Something he didn’t even have a choice in anyway, not that anyone believes him.
No, he was better off alone, no one could hurt you then.
And so what if he was scared of dying alone, what was one more fear to face in this farce he called a life?
I lose my way
And it's not too long before you point it out
I cannot cry
Because I know that's weakness in your eyes
I'm forced to fake
A smile, a laugh everyday of my life
My heart can't possibly break
When it wasn't even whole to start with
Alone.
If he was alone then Mike couldn’t point out every time he fucked up. He couldn’t blame him for things that weren’t his fault.
If he was alone then he wouldn’t have to hide the fact that he wanted to cry and rail at the world. He could’ve mourned Helen how he wanted to, instead of having to throw up his defences and fake a suitable response in the face of Mike’s words and attitude.
If he were alone then he couldn’t be mocked for being a heartless prick. He wasn’t heartless though, he still had pieces left that he protected with a viciousness that would surprise most.
If he were alone, maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t have to fake so much.
I watched you die
I heard you cry every night in your sleep
I was so young
You should have known better than to lean on me
You never thought of anyone else
You just saw your pain
If he were alone, Mike wouldn’t look at him with that disappointment in his eyes.
Anders couldn’t stand it. It was the same look he’d always seen in their father’s eyes, their mother’s eyes, and when Mike turned twenty-one, Anders lost his brother and was instead forever faced with those disappointed eyes.
It wasn’t his fault that he’d fucked up.
He was still a stupid teenager when Mike dumped it all on him and disappeared with Rob and Val for weeks on end.
He refused to see Anders was struggling, barely offered any help.
Just looked at him with those disappointed eyes.
Anders tried to build armour against it, like he had for the outside world. But Mike was too close, he was still Anders’ older brother, Anders still loved him. Even after everything. And it was that weakness that allowed his armour to fail every time.
So many times he’d needed his big brother. So many times he’d needed his reassurance like he’d given when they were younger.
So many times.
But all he was ever given were those disappointed eyes and lectures on how badly he’d fucked up.
He’d stopped seeking reassurance a long while ago, figuring it was better to play it safe and never mention anything, never ask for help that would never come his way.
Alone.
A bitter, painful laugh escaped his lips, tears finally sliding down his cheeks as he thought about it.
He’d never be alone. Not really. Mike would never allow it. Not while there was still something of Anders left to chip away at.
Mike.
Everything always led back to Mike.
The man who should’ve protected him, guided him was instead the cause of every insecurity Anders had.
Was it not following in his footsteps that had led to him being alone in the first place?
Anders scrubbed at his eyes.
He needed a drink.
Sliding from the bed he crawled to the kitchen and to the bottle of vodka he knew was in the freezer. A sigh of relief leaving him as the cold, clear, liquid slid down his throat.
He knew drinking wasn’t a good idea after the blood loss, but he didn’t care, and by the empty state of his flat, no one else did either.
As the vodka made the world start to spin Anders felt Bragi nudging at his consciousness.
“Not now,” he mumbled, though he crawled to the coffee table to grab the notepad and pen at the god’s insistence, regardless.
‘Dear Mikkel’
He started writing, barely catching the thoughts swimming around in his foggy mind.
Another hearty swig from the bottle and the world started getting dark around the edges.
He was vaguely aware that this could be him facing him fear.
With his vision failing, Anders wrote one last sentence before the pen slid from his unresponsive fingers.
-x-
A week had passed since the fight when two police officers came into the bar.
“Are you Mikkel Johnson?” the first asked.
“Yeah. How can I help you, officers?”
“We regret to inform you that Anders Johnson was found this morning….”
Mike was in shock, the officer’s words registering like a faulty phone connection.
“….suicide….alcohol mixed with blood loss…..hypoglycemic coma….our condolences…”
A letter was pushed into his hands as his knees gave out and he fell heavily onto one of the barstools.
With shaking hands he unfolded the page and looked at his brother’s familiar writing.
‘Dear Mikkel,
Because of you, I learned to play on the safe side so I don't get hurt
Because of you, I try my hardest just to forget everything
Because of you, I don't know how to let anyone else in
Because of you, I'm ashamed of my life because it's empty
Because of you
I am afraid.’