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Dana and Alex's relationship had been a bit of a strained one. They were much closer as kids. Being born to a dysfunctional family, they often had just each other for the support that they couldn't find in their parents. As they got older and matured into adults, naturally they drifted apart. They still looked out for each other, but as the years wore on, it became more and more apparent that Alex was getting lost in his work at Gentek. He had had more strained contact with his already few in number loved ones, had gone down a bad path of neglecting his health and needs. This had led to him becoming foul in temper and drowning in self-loathing. He had even broken up with his girlfriend of some years, Karen, which had also taken on a toll on him.
Throughout all of this, Dana had always tried to bring her brother some semblance of comfort, sparse as it may be. After what had transpired afterwards, she wished she could say she'd tried to be of better help.
Then had come the incident.
31st of March, 2009. It had been all over the news. Fleeing Gentek scientist releases viral outbreak onto Manhattan. Madman researcher carrying confidential data cornered by military personnel at Penn Station. Headlines were various, but all footage released to the public was the same. They all saw the same thing: a man in escape, holding some sort of vial, being pursued by who they would later come to know as 'Blackwatch'. They corner him at Penn Station and in a fit of what seems to be anger and frustration, he smashes the red vial onto the pavement and makes history. They gun him down in front of all sorry passers-by and waste no time with the aftermath. Soon, he's just another body bag, just like all the others. The masses don't know what the virus is, the spilt vial is of little concern to them. It's red, it might as well just be regular blood, right? It had all mixed with his once he had crashed down on the ground anyway; the contents of the vial and the blood itself were indistiguishable. Their main hysteria is instead with the brutal act of extermination right in front of the public.
Not for long, though.
Soon, lot by lot, all of Manhattan is engulfed in chaos and havoc after millions wind up dead and dying of the virus dubbed 'Blacklight'. A deadly thing indeed, meshing with the victim's biomass to allow the host to shapeshift in the form of any being it's consumed. Streets become indistiguishable from morgues and the whole island is a warzone. Civilians are in mass panic and evacuation and Special Forces have little to no control over the gory situation.
All the while, Dana is watching in horror. This entire horrific terrorist attack, all the work of her older brother? Quiet Alex, who had sat in the back of every classroom he'd ever been in? Sensitive Alex, who had played bad boy all he'd wanted but had sought hugs from Mom upon coming home from a really bad day, whenever he'd caught her in a good mood? Defender Alex, who, during their school days, no matter the circumstances and odds almost never being in his favor, had never left her defenseless in the face of her tormentors, had stood up for her time and time again, enduring black eye after black eye and crushed fingers and bandages, just for her sake? She had stopped breathing when she had seen his face on the TV screen then, bold and assertive in the face of fate.
Naturally, she'd thought he was dead. It was a punch in the gut. They weren't close any more and she had seen what he'd become, but she'd never expected such an outcome for her brother. Why had he been fleeing in the first place? How dangerous was his research that the military had gunned him down on the spot for it? Why had he smashed the glass vial? All throughout her mourning, she couldn't keep these questions at bay.
She'd informed her estranged parents, Karen and some other distant family members that she'd thought would care. Not that they hadn't known, of course, they'd all seen the news -- but still, she'd thought that recieving the information on a more personal level would bring more comfort and closure to them. They had needed to grieve together. 'Closure' is a strong word, since they'd known next to nothing of the case, but it was something.
So imagine her surprise (and really relief, fear and confusion mixed all in one) when just a week or so later, the very same Alex had stood in her open doorway, unharmed.
"...Alex?"
"Hey, I'm sorry, I know it's sudden, but--"
His words were choked out and cut short by Dana's strong embrace. She crushed him unapologetically and began crying, staining the shirt underneath his jacket. Her fingers clutched the black leather and her knuckles turned white. He hugged her back then, fearful, hands unsure if they were allowed to touch, fingers trembling as they made their way up her back. They hadn't seen each other in so long, neither fully convinced of the other's existence before them, but they were so, so happy nonetheless. Brother and sister reunited at last.
"You have so much explaining to do, you.." Dana sniffled, reluctantly letting go after her cries had subsided.
"I know," Alex sighed, pained. "Could I come in? I'll tell you everything. I just want to be safe."
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After a long, long afternoon of explanations of his whereabouts during the last week and what really happened on the fateful March day, Alex was quite exhausted. It had been a separately arduous journey to get to her apartment safely, and after the whole emotional rollercoaster of seeing her again, all he wanted was a good night's rest. He had had trouble sleeping lately, so he earnestly hoped it would come easily tonight. Dana wasn't much better herself, she also wanted to give them both some space to process the events that had occured. She fixed them up something quick and simple to eat and after they finished, she showed him where he would be sleeping. They lightly hugged again for goodnight and Alex was alone again.
So much had happened in this span of time. He'd uncovered secrets at Gentek that would send the world into chaos if they made it to the public eye. He'd lost himself and what mattered to him most in the process, despite trying desperately and ultimately pointlessly to salvage what little was left. And to top it all off, he was supposed to be dead by now, but he wasn't. He had woken up in an unfamiliar world, in a body he somehow knew wasn't completely his, with shallow sense of self and no direction of where to go and what to do in order to find out who had done this to him and why. He was left a broken man. It just repeated itself in his head relentlessly as he walked to his door. Broken, broken, broken.
Why had he even sought Dana after all this time? Was he really worthy of her support and attention after years of his near-negligence of their family ties and his other relationships? He was a wanted man, a terrorist, an outright enemy of the state and all its citizens -- why would his sister want anything to do with him anymore? What kind of masochist did she have to be? She assured him that no matter what happened, he was still her brother and she would always be by his side, but he wasn't so sure. He felt certain that sooner or later he would do something to break her undeserved trust and send their relationship spiralling into ruin, and then he would truly have no one left at all.
These thoughts swam in his head as he closed the door and sank heavily onto the floor with only the top half of his body leaning on the bed, his loud exhale of defeat and anger sounding like a pained whimper. He didn't want to break in front of Dana, though he was sure she could see him come close, because even after all this time and them both being grown adults, he still felt like he had to fulfill the older brother role he always had as a kid. It's strange what the human mind retains, but Alex was, in his own, still shackled to that role, that obligation. Even though it was perfectly normal, he couldn't allow himself to cry before her like a child; it was shameful. Because older brothers never show weakness in front of their little sisters. Never.
It's ironic that he quickly broke that one rule that he'd followed all his life. It all just got too much for him to bear on his own and even though he tried his hardest to stifle the cries by burrowing into his sleeve, he was powerless. His emotions overcame him like a cruel tide and he had no control of them whatsoever. He couldn't remember the last time he'd cried like this, but gut-wrenching sobs came rushing out of him one after the other in quick succession, each louder and more pained than the last. He just felt so confused and beaten, damned, like he was both the abused slave and simultanously the master who held the whip. It was just too much.
Dana, herself tossing and turning the night away, jumped out of bed to her brother's room upon hearing his cries. But once she slowly cracked his door open and caught a glimpse of his pathetic form, she stopped despite herself, stunned. It was ironic. In their past, she was always the one running crying to her brother's room, be it because of a scary movie or their parents arguing or whatever else had driven her to tears. And he was always the one to comfort her, to soothe her, to caress her hair and rub her back, whispering assurances that everything was going to be alright. She had never seen the roles reversed and truthfully, didn't much consider it possible, so she was almost too afraid to speak, taking in the sight before her in some grotesque revelry that she didn't like. His whole body was shaking. He was just so vulnerable. So, so fragile.
She compelled herself to move before she disgusted herself further and opened the door fully with a worried "Alex!" before kneeling on the floor beside him and hugging him, rubbing his back, frantically asking what was wrong.
"It's-- It's just-- I can't--" Alex sputtered pitifully, trying to get words out but failing spectacularly. He gave up and just gave way to a whole new wave of sobbing, feeling so horrible that his little sister had to hold him in her arms. She shushed any of his further attempts to explain and just rubbed his back, lightly rocking them from side to side, whispering assurances and sweet things, whispering, whispering, whispering as he sobbed his heart out. Shh, shh, shh. Just like he had done countless times before.
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After the whole crying fest was over, and it lasted a very long time, Alex was finally more in control of himself and able to speak much more coherently, though still a bit choked up.
"Good God, Alex, what's wrong?"
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, it's just--"
"Don't apologize to me. Just tell me how you're feeling." Dana rubbed his shoulder.
It took some time for him to speak up. "I just feel awful. I don't know who I am. This body isn't mine, somebody's done something to me and I don't know what. I barely know where I am and I have no idea what I'm supposed to do with myself. I don't know where I'm supposed to go, I feel like I'll just be wandering the streets aimlessly like a stray mutt for who knows how long. No one around me outside feels real, I try to reach out somehow to anyone but it just feels like they fade into a blur or a silhouette. Nobody's real, for fuck's sake!" he stopped to catch his breath, as he felt winded from talking so much about how he felt for so long. Dana listened patiently.
He continued. "And I wake up on a fucking autopsy table with no idea of how I got there, and I escape these fucking lunatics, and I barely know who the fuck I am or what I've done, and I'm just supposed to... Fuck! Fuck! I don't know! I don't know anything! I lost fucking everything that mattered before the incident! I lost everything, Dana!" he looked up at her for the first time since this started and she was almost startled to see his otherwise clear blue eyes red-rimmed and welling with tears. "I don't have shit left! I pushed everyone away and now I'm back and I have no fucking idea why or how I'm somehow supposed to get it all back! And I'll lose you too, I KNOW I will! I fucking KNOW I will and there isn't shit I can do to stop it!" he yelled painfully, and this was the part that most pained Dana to hear. Why was he so sure of this awful fate?
As Alex's confession ended, Dana began to tear up as well. Her poor brother. Her poor brother who she had loved so, hopeless, in such a sorry state. As she recounted the events he'd told her about earlier, she couldn't imagine in what pain he was. All she could do was try to support him in every way she could, and make sure he stayed out of danger, out of the hands of the state.
She hugged him. "God, Alex, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry.." was all she could say for a long time. "You have me. I promise I won't leave you alone. Even if you try to push me away and go out on your own, I won't let you. You're still my brother, for fuck's sake. Just, please... Please stay out of danger. We'll figure this all out together."
They would try their best. But such endeavors had to wait till tomorrow. For now, brother and sister sat still in the night in each other's arms, cheeks wet, faces red, chests heaving, with no idea of whether things would actually turn out okay.
But they would try their best.