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Grian was happily bundled up against Scar as he sat through his boyfriend’s endless slew of movies he insisted Grian had to watch to truly understand the world. His happiness didn’t come from the films themselves, and Grian used them more as a vehicle to serve himself doses of boyfriend cuddles and getting his hair fiddled with. That wasn’t to say the movies were bad, and he could see why Scar liked them, but he knew he was nowhere near to his boyfriend’s level of enthusiasm on anything.
When the doorbell rung its way through their apartment, Grian couldn’t help the shiver that ran down his spine. He knew, realistically, that it was probably just a neighbour who needed to borrow some sugar, or a spare key, or maybe even the grouchy old woman who lived upstairs and threw a fit whenever they talked louder than a whisper in their own home. Despite understanding this fully, Grian always reacted the same way to the doorbell, which meant it was Scar’s responsibility to open it.
Grian reluctantly let him go, and sat petulantly on the sofa as he left, his boyfriend shaking his head, smiling as he turned to look back at him. He heard the door open, though he didn’t hear the voices of any of their neighbours respond, instead it was the voice of a young boy who spoke.
“Oh. Uh, hi.” The boy said, audibly taken aback by Scar’s appearance at the door, “Is this flat 8?”
“Yep.” He heard Scar reply, “Can I help you?”
“Does Grian live here? Grian Slayer?” The boy asked, and Grian’s shudder returned.
“Why do you need to see him?” Scar asked, and from the slither of Scar’s back still in Grian’s line of sight he could see his boyfriend shift to block the door slightly.
“Um,” The boy stammered, “My name is Jimmy. Grian is my older brother. I don’t know if he’s ever mentioned me or-”
“Tim?” Grian rushed to the doorway and took in the sight of his little brother all grown up. For a second his vision flashed and the nine-year-old Grian had left behind was stood there, though he quickly returned to the lanky fifteen-year-old who stood nearly as tall as the doorframe.
“Hey.” Jimmy said awkwardly, putting a hand up in a bad impression of a wave before returning it back to his pocket, “Mum and Dad kicked me out.”
“Oh.” Grian said intelligently.
“Yeah. Pearl and Joel left so, I guess they wanted rid of all of us.” Jimmy explained, looking everywhere but Grian’s face, “Could I stay here for a bit? Until I can find somewhere else to go?”
“Where are Joel and Pearl?” Grian asked, almost immediately regretting it, “I mean yes, of course, you can stay here as long as you’d like. Please, come in. Have you had anything to eat today?”
Grian could see in Jimmy’s eyes that he was over doing it, but that didn’t stop him rambling. The boy shook his head and Grian went directly to the kitchen to find something he could make quickly. He tried to think back to when he first left his parents’ house, and what kind of foods he could stomach, and he eventually settled on a simple bowl of noodles from a packet. He poured the water and added a vegetable stock cube before leaving it to boil for a second on the stove, glancing towards the living room where Scar had led Jimmy to sit down.
His boyfriend quickly and stiltedly removed the evidence of their night-in, and Grian could tell he was trying to make conversation with the teenager, though most of his attempts seemed to be falling flat. It reminded Grian of when they’d first met as half of Scar’s conversation starters included references to films or music, most of which he’d never even heard of, never mind seen. He supposed it was the same for Jimmy now.
The noodles were quickly done, and Grian gave them to his brother without a word. Similarly, Jimmy ate them wordlessly before feigning a yawn.
“We’ve got a spare room. You could stay there if you’d like.” Grian said, face palming mentally when he realised that of course Jimmy would be staying there, where else was he meant to sleep, on the sofa?
His brother didn’t say anything though, instead he simply picked up the battered backpack he’d brought with him and followed Grian into the spare room they had for when friends stayed over.
“Do you have any pyjamas with you?” Grian asked, and Jimmy shook his head as he looked up from where he was rifling through his bag for a toothbrush. Grian nodded and quickly exited the room. He worked his way through Scar’s side of the dresser, finding a random pair of pyjamas the man rarely ever used and returning to the spare – or Grian supposed now Jimmy’s – room.
After successfully handing his brother the change of clothes, Grian said a quick goodnight before leaving him be, trying not to be overbearing but wondering if that’s what Jimmy wanted. He chose not to think too hard about it, knowing it would only make him tailspin more, and he soon found Scar in the kitchen, standing around idly and unsure.
“You okay?” His boyfriend asked when he appeared, seeing the roots of panic starting to set in.
“Yes.” Grian said abruptly, and even he didn’t believe himself, “I just don’t know what I’m meant to do. I haven’t taken care of my brother in six years, haven’t even seen him, and now I’m supposed to look after him again.”
“He doesn’t want you to go back to being his parent, he just wants somewhere to sleep.” Scar said rationally.
“I know that.” Grian said, “But I don’t even know how to talk to him Scar. I abandoned him and the others. How am I meant to make up for that?”
“Well, I don’t know about that. But hey, you have me.” Scar said, smiling goofily, “And I would say I’m pretty good at helping random blond Slayer boys with their issues.”
+++
Jimmy had been living with them for a couple of weeks, and they had been fitfully coexisting. Jimmy rarely left his room, and whilst Grian thought it might have something to do with him, he tried to listen to Scar on the fact that he too had been reluctant to be anywhere but alone for quite a while after he’d run away.
The stalemate couldn’t last forever though, and one morning Grian sat in bed by himself after Scar had left for work, scrolling through his phone. In the corner of his eye he caught a figure standing just behind the slightly open door, and he quickly sat himself upright and gestured for his brother to come in. Jimmy awkwardly shuffled into the room, sitting on the bed with a rigid posture that made him appear even taller than he already was, and if they had been more comfortable around each other, Grian might’ve even made fun of his brother for it.
“How do you do it?” Jimmy asked out of the blue, seconds before Grian was preparing to ask him what was wrong.
“Do what, Jim?” Grian asked.
“You act so normal.” Jimmy explained, and Grian almost burst out laughing, “Like nothing from home bothers you anymore.”
“Well, I don’t feel very normal.” Grian said, placing his phone to the side, “But I’ve had time. And I’m surrounded by good, normal people. That’s done most of the work for me; just being around… normal.”
“I want that.” Jimmy said.
“I know.” Grian said, “You’ve got plenty of time to find it, Jim.”
Jimmy went quiet for a long while, just thinking over what Grian was saying before finally responding, “I used to hurt myself to feel normal. I still want to, but I haven’t since I came here because I knew you’d have to deal with it. I didn’t want to ruin your perfect life.”
Grian wilted at the confession, but he pushed forward for his brother’s sake. He surged towards him and wrapped his arms tightly around Jimmy, “You could never ruin my life, Jim.”
“But before-” Jimmy started, though he was soon cut off.
“That. Was nothing to do with you. And I’m sorry that you ever thought it was.” Grian asserted, “I stayed all those years that I did for you. And for your brother and sister. It was our parents I couldn’t stand, and they’re the reason I left, not you.”
“Then why’d you ask why I didn’t go to Pearl or Joel?” Jimmy asked.
“Oh Jim, I didn’t mean it like that.” Grian said, placing Jimmy’s head on his shoulder and holding onto his hand tight, “I just wanted to know where they were. I never thought about the fact they would leave too someday. In my mind you’re all still those little kids I remember.”
“Have you moved on yet?” Jimmy asked, “From everything.”
“God no.” Grian said, blowing out a long, drawn-out breath just thinking of the idea, “Just because I haven’t expressed it physically doesn’t mean I’m not still experiencing all those thoughts going around your mind up here.”
Grian pointed to his temple with the hand not tightly grasped in Jimmy’s.
“I hallucinate. Pretty much every day still.” Grian said, not looking to see Jimmy’s reaction, “And it sucks. And I wish it didn’t happen. But it’s much better now than it has ever been. Sometimes they can even be pretty nice.”
Jimmy leaned into Grian further, head tucked under his, and for a moment Grian could imagine he was a toddler again.
“I used to practically live a hallucination.” Grian admitted, “I’m not telling you this because I want you to feel bad for me. I intend on keeping your struggles and my own as two separate things.”
Grian sighed as he rocked himself and Jimmy slightly for comfort.
“But I do want you to know that you’re not alone going through this shit.” Grian explained, and he couldn’t help but feel like Scar, if with more swearing, “And that I will do everything in my power to make sure you get to your normal one day.”
+++
Jimmy fumbled with the key Grian’s boyfriend had gotten made for him, scratching around the keyhole before finally managing to put it in and turn. His hands shook from the cold, though he hadn’t entirely convinced himself that it was the reason for his awkward entry. He toed off his busted, old sneakers at the door, careful to let them hit the floor with the dullest thud he could manage before he ventured further into the apartment.
The spare room that Grian had made his was only a few doors away, and Jimmy was almost sure he’d made it in undetected until he heard the clear sound of a light flicking on somewhere deeper in the building. He stood still for a moment, hoping that the walls were just thin enough that he’d heard a neighbour waking up to go to the bathroom, but his hopes were shattered when a door opened behind him and let the light flood into the hallway.
He turned around slowly, as if he could avoid detection if he was still enough, though he could practically feel the eyes trained on him. Eventually, he unwillingly saw Grian stood there, and the tired look in his eyes was almost too much for him to handle, “Where have you been?”
Grian was making it worse on purpose, Jimmy decided. He wasn’t screaming, and if he didn’t know any better, Grian could be having a completely calm conversation with him. Jimmy unfortunately did know better, and Grian’s rage that Jimmy had only ever seen on the face of a particular anguish filled painting was only hidden beneath a thin layer of varnish over his eyes.
Grian clearly got impatient waiting for Jimmy to respond, “Jim.”
This time Grian was betrayed by his emotions, voice cracking in a wet way that reminded Jimmy of a soaked pier support finally breaking under the strain of the sea. His eyes were similarly wet, glossy in the yellow light still emanating from Grian and Scar’s room.
For a split second, seeing that glossed over stare, Jimmy’s mind went to a mean place and wondered if he could convince Grian he was just another hallucination or, better yet, that the last few days had been a hallucination and Jimmy had never left. Scar ruined both plans he supposed, and although the man had been so kind, Jimmy was cursing him now.
“I went out.” Jimmy shrugged with an as unbothered an expression he could muster, “Saw some friends.”
“For three days?” Grian asked, but it sounded more like a statement, “Without telling me.”
“I don’t have to tell you everything.” Jimmy said.
“It sure would have been nice to know.” Grian laughed, though Jimmy heard the opposite of humour in his broken voice, “You could’ve told me. Texted me on your way there. I would’ve let you go, you know.”
“I didn’t need your permission, Grian. You’re not Dad.” Jimmy snapped back, for a moment he thought he’d won, but as he looked back at his brother, he could practically see storm clouds in his vision, and Jimmy was filled with the sudden urge to run.
“Well thank fuck for that. No, Jim, I’m not Dad. Because I actually give a shit about where you’ve been for the past three days, and I’m not gonna beat your ass for not telling me, even if I really want to because you had me so worried.” Grian retorted, barely coming up for air, “I try so hard to not put my bullshit on you Jim, but if you could at least not actively try to give me nightmares of you lying dead in a ditch somewhere, that would be great.”
Jimmy opened his mouth, ready to say something that would hurt, but Grian didn’t give him the chance.
“In fact, I didn’t even need the nightmares, because my brain decided to show me that every waking second as well.” Grian continued, “If you want to get back at me for ditching you, I completely understand, but don’t do this again, please.”
Jimmy felt tears brewing in his own eyes as he saw Grian crumple to the floor, beaten down by his own ramblings. He made a step towards his older brother, but thought better of it and stayed back, “I wasn’t trying to get back at you.”
Grian stayed on the floor, and Jimmy wasn’t too sure if he’d even heard him.
“I just didn’t think you would care this much,” Jimmy said, a little louder, “I’m sorry.”
Grian glanced up at that, bringing the cuffs of his sleep shirt to his face to wipe it harshly, “It… it’s okay Tim.”
The nickname sent a pang of pain through Jimmy’s heart, though he tried to hide it with a joke, “You don’t get to call me that just because I made you worry.”
Grian eyes suddenly turned conspiratorial as he stood up, “Oh I think it’s a fitting punishment, Timmy.”
“No please,” Jimmy said, huffing as Grian approached him and wrapped his arms around his waist, attempting to pick him up even if Jimmy was a head taller than him, “Please, I’ll do anything.”
The older swung him around, cooing over him like a mother bird and occasionally slipping in the dreaded nickname until they eventually stumbled upon the living room sofa. Grian finally let go, instead bundling Jimmy into a blanket and sitting with him up against the arm of the sofa until his brother fell asleep.
“Why do you call him Timmy?” Scar asked, walking delicately towards the brothers and handing Grian a mug of hot chocolate, placing one down for Jimmy on the side table, “I’ve been desperate to ask ever since the kid showed up.”
Grian smiled a little maniacally for how tired he looked, “Shaun the Sheep was the only show we ever watched as kids. My cousin gave the first season to me for my birthday on a DVD even if I was already a bit too old to be watching it. Jim loved it so much he called me Shaun the whole first year he could talk.”
Grian idly played with the hair sticking up on the back of Jimmy’s head as he spoke.
“So, as revenge, we’ve called him Timmy ever since.” Grian chuckled to himself a little evilly, “He hates it.”
“No I don’t.” Jimmy suddenly spoke, though his eyes remained shut.
“You’ll do anything to contradict me, won’t you Tim?” Grian smiled, shoving his brother off of him so that he was in a prime position to be tickled, “Did you pretend to hate Timmy Time as well?”
Grian continued his tickling rampage, deaf to Jimmy’s curses and pleads. He only stopped when Jimmy brought down a cushion on his head which he’d managed to grab a hold of in the chaos. However, whilst the tickling stopped, this only caused another flame to spark behind Grian’s eyes as he too reached for a cushion and flung it with all his might at his little brother.
The boys scrambled and fought for only a short while, both too tired to battle for much longer, and soon they were back to being tangled up on the sofa together.
Briefly, thoughts of Pearl and Joel washed through Grian’s brain, though they soon faded as his head lolled to one side and he was captured by sleep.