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The Favorite Son(s)
A biiit of an au…( I think. Fairly canon compliant but)
Gareth was never one to tell people his “backstory". He never saw it necessary for connecting with people. Not that he cared for connection anyways. The fellow dinner guests liked him well enough, but all he felt was indifference. He was never one for showing emotion. It was weak, pathetic. His brother however, was always emotional. Even if he didn't want to admit it. He was angry. All the time. He woke up angry, he went to bed angry. The only times he would be happy is whenever someone would feed his insatiable ego. Sure he was more
Quiet, but he was always angry.
Gareth understood why he was so angry. Mother treated them like one person their whole life. Everyone did. It felt like everyone was against them and all they had was each other. They were all that mattered. They were what was most important.
They prided themselves in their ‘work’. Enjoying Leon Prater's bonus for ‘before photos’. Gareth's love of photography was on full display. Albeit in a more morbid way than he hoped. He was the favorite, the one who followed the rules, stayed quiet and didn't get into trouble with the law. Everything he wanted. He had seen it all before, loud ones who couldn't keep their mouth shut, the ones who asked for too much, the ones who got arrested, “Uninvited” as he called it.
They knew what Prater meant. They'd be killed with the same weapon they killed others with. Or in other cases, the same methods. It was just a matter of time before someone slipped up. Going to the dinners was certainly an experience. Mia, Keith, and Al were all fairly nice, treating him with respect, as an equal. Yet they still saw them as a single person. Sure they wanted to stay as ambiguous as possible. Being one another's alibi. They are looking for one man after all.
He was never truly himself. The mask was heavy, stuck to his face like those starfish from that movie him and his brother liked. Never being able to tell anybody. Sure it wasn't as heavy as when he was at work, when working with newborn children and their mothers, you have to keep a happy, almost excited appearance. Even with the little kids who came to visit, loudly asking their parents about the blotches of lighter skin on his body.
It never bothered either of them to answer these questions, they accepted that they looked a bit off putting. Their pale skin clashing with the bright tans of everyone else. A lot of them being farmers or being in some line of work that caused them to be outside a ton. They'd ask other questions too. Their black nail polish was a big one, the normal things little kids growing up in a fairly rural part of Kansas thinking it was illegal for men to wear makeup or nail polish.
As a kid, they continued to pose as one person, doing the same activities, same classes, never acknowledging the other. Keeping to themselves didn't help them either. Being voted ‘Most Likely to be a Serial Killer’ senior year. At least they were right. There was this guy, Lowell. He went to school with them during high school. The strong, fairly smart boy was in a completely different circle of people than he ever was. Sharing a class or two with him. He was popular, nice, didn't read social cues or boundaries the best, but still seemed kind, thoughtful. The last person he thought of when thinking of a serial killer. One of the twins was fairly put off by Lowell, citing his lack of boundaries while the other has some type of crush on him. They'd argue back and forth on how to approach him, or even if they should in the first place. The only time they had ever interacted was when they had a project in the same glass together. And he never seemed to leave one of their minds
Gareth was fashionably late as always, Prater never really seemed to mind. Especially now because a serial killer killing rideshare drivers was on the loose. The people were admittedly paranoid. He hated it. He looked like the type to saw heads off. Tall, Brooding, with an antisocial personality.
He noticed the guest list and saw the name Lowell, he was shocked, unsure if it was the same Lowell from so long ago. Surely it was a coincidence? Low and behold, it wasn't. The moment he walked into the room where the four people were already sitting he saw him. He still looked the same, the messy, dirty blonde hair that always seemed to evade light, his light blue eyes that looked a little green in the right light, his–
“Gareth! You made it!” Al popped up from his seat “Apologies. My rideshare was a bit late” Gareth tried his best not to make eye contact with Lowell, trying to hide the fact that his cheeks were reddening at the mere sight of him. He was that same awkward teen who had his face in his collar. “This is Lowell, or the tattoo collector.. He was just telling us about his year!” Al had that same, dumb smile he always did. Oblivious to the history between the two, er, the lack of history.
All turned Gareth around, standing face to face with him. This was the guy he was gushing over? Out of everyone in the room, him? The new guy? Lowell had a smirk plastered on his face. It wasn't malice, but a look of love, or kinship at least. “Nice to meetcha, Gareth.” a look of knowing who he was, knowing him better than anybody else in the room aside from himself, yet he still didn't acknowledge it. Whether it was to not embarrass him or not, puzzled Him.
At dinner he sat in the chair furthest from him. Not with any intent, But out of habit. He always sat next to Al. It was familiar, comfortable. The one thing Gareth hated more than anything was Unfamiliarity. It scared him. He tried to face his fear. How would he ever live if he couldn't bear such a common thing like unfamiliarity? Maybe he could just get drunk and forget everything. That surely would bury the fear of unfamiliarity, right?
It really didn't do anything to help. He just got more and more upset as the night went on. It wasn’t a loud protest, nor was it violent, but you could tell. He seemed more closed off than normal. Sitting on the expensive couch, staring off into space. He was in no mood to drive, or talk, or even leave. Sitting on the couch, dissociating was all he could do.
An unfamiliar warmth sat across from him on the couch. He had a glass of water in his hand, and a glass of whiskey in the other. “I'm not drunk.” Gareth's words were slurred. He was a bad liar when he was like this. “You are a terrible liar!” Lowell chirped, replacing his wine glass with the glass of water. Gareth slumped into the couch. He was too tired to protest.. A look of comforting sadness was all Gareth could describe how he was feeling.
He shakily grabbed the glass of water, taking a sip. “Thanks.” He glanced over to Lowell, and quickly looked back as Lowell noticed he was staring. His cheeks reddened. “Dont mention it. Anything for an old friend.” He smiled. In any other situation this would be a bit weird. He didn't know why this felt.. Sweet. “Such a coincidence for us both to end up serial killers don't you think?” Gareth tilted his head. Focusing on a painting on the wall. His words were more focused this time. Lowell smiled, chuckling. Lowell went on and on talking about his life after high school. Gareth didn't mind not having time to speak. Anything was better than talking about his childhood.
By the end of the night, Gareth was still too woozy to get off the couch. He wasn't as sober as he hoped. Lowell pulled him up as Gareth leaned into him. His eyes only slightly open. “You’re lovely guest Gareth, Had a bit too much to drink!” Lowell chuckled. “It was very nice meeting you and your guests here. Thank you for having me, Mister Prater!” He shook hands with the billionaire. “It was wonderful having you here as well, Lowell. I’m sure our friend Gareth is very appreciative of your helpfulness.” Prater smiled. He seemed oblivious to the history between the two. It was odd, this was the man who knew all about his guest, yet he seemed to know so little at the same time.
Lowell grabbed his and Gareth's keys, walking out to the eccentric car garage and into the expensive car Prater had so kindly lent him. He drove to the nice condo that Prater had paid for. No music or chatting, just silence with the sounds of the city muffled around them and the sound of Gareth's soft snoring.
Oh the enemy of all drunk people and people with luggage alike. Stairs. The elevator was in maintenance so that route was a dud. “Alright come on, you’re doing fine” was repeated probably a million times by Lowell to reassure Gareth. He messed with the keys as he tried to unlock the door. Gareth climbed onto him like life support. He couldn’t see what Lowell was doing at all. He hauled his own luggage into the condo along with Gareth. He intended to stay the night just to make sure he was okay.
He took off Gareth's coat and shoes, sitting him up between the bathtub and toilet. “Just- Just stay there. I’ll get you some water or something.” A mumbled “Okay” was the only thing Gareth had said in quite a while. While filling up a glass of water, he could hear Gareth throwing up whatever he drank.
He sat on the floor of the bathroom with Gareth as he rubbed his back. “It’s okay, It’s okay. You just had too much to drink.” Gareth didn’t know why he was acting so weird. He never drank too much, he never was this miserable. Why was he like this? Why is he so pathetic? Why is he so emotional like his brother? “I’ll get you some different clothes.” Gareth looked up at him and nodded.
“For one of the most wanted killers, you sure like superheroes!” Lowell giggled. Grabbing a ‘sleep shirt’ and pajama pants from his luggage. “Here you go.” “Thanks.” Gareth looked up like he was waiting for him to leave. “Oh, right. I’ll leave you to it!” He sat on the couch waiting for Gareth to come out of the bathroom.
Gareth shuffled out of the bathroom in his Superman T-shirt and plaid Pajama pants, laying down on the couch, resting his head on Lowell’s lap. They both watched some superhero movie Gareth requested. He wasn’t going to argue with a miserable drunk guy.
The movie was interesting, and the soundtrack was good. But Gareth fell asleep first, and he didn’t want to leave him to sleep on the couch. He carefully got up, and carried Gareth to bed. Closing the door and leaving Gareth to sleep. “Goodnight Gareth.” He smiled, closing the door behind him.