Chapter Text
Ryland had been sitting lost in thought watching his ramen coagulate as he stewed over his humiliation so far at the UNESCO conference when he got the call. It was a Florida area code and the only person he knew in Florida that had his number wasn’t one to make phone calls lightly. He answered quickly on the second ring.
“Is this ______ Gentry,” Ryland gritted his teeth slightly at the unknown voice on the other end before taking a deep breath and giving a brief affirmative. He looked at his watch he only had 15 minutes left of his lunch, he didn’t have time for whatever this call was about if it wasn’t Courtland directly, he thought impulsively it didn’t dawn on him that this was not going to be a normal call from his baby brother.
“This is Chaplain Price with the Florida Corrections I’m sorry to report that on April 29th at 1400 HRS Courtland Gentry was killed in a prison riot.”
Ryland felt sick so suddenly the anger at his name and the wasted minutes of his sad lunch left him in one harsh swoop his knees shook as he held the phone with tight white knuckled hands. That was 5 days ago….how?....why? He couldn’t he—he couldn’t speak tears welled in his eyes the Chaplain continued after giving Ryland stuttering breath time to break the silence.
“The autopsy is finished that is why we are giving you this courtesy call at this time I unfortunately have to advise that the body was so badly damaged we could not offer a body for pick up as he has been cremated, but the ashes are here for you as next of kin to pick up at your expense of course you will have to speak with administration to see about setting a time to pick them up or declare abandonment and he will be interred here on the prison property.”
The Chaplain paused waiting to see if Ryland’s shaking breathing would have anything to say, Ryland didn’t know how, but he let out the quietest “yes I understand,” and promptly hung up the phone. Ryland sagged back in the chair a hand over his mouth and tears a constant stream down his face.
Court was gone just like that and had been gone for quite a while, Ryland was always of the belief that if either of his little brothers would leave this mortal coil he would be at least the second to sense it, he didn’t have the same connection twins had like Court and Colt but he felt he knew them enough to be second place. Ryland selfishly thought of Colt then… the other half of Court, he wondered morbidly if Colt had felt it when Court had gone that gnawing empty pain that Ryland felt now.
Ryland stared stupidly at the phone trying to conjure up any numbers that could get him in contact with Colt, but Sealed adoption papers and uncooperative foster parents who thought murderous twin and parentified older sibling who had just aged out of the system shouldn’t be a part of their child's life had spurned Ryland from contacting him no matter how many letter or phone calls Ryland had sent, but it’s been 6 years Colt was now 21 years old and still hadn’t reached out so Ryland was at a loss. Whenever Ryland had contacted Court in prison, he reluctantly told him the same thing sounding like it was painful to be stuck in easily found place and his twin not even trying to locate him they had assumed Colt had basically dropped off the planet.
“Dr. Grace...um...are you ok?” A timid voice sounded off to his left-hand side he turned the opposite way and started wiping at his face almost violently trying to get the tears to stop. His handler for the conference looked uncomfortable even asking about his wellbeing so he didn’t feel the need to answer them in that moment verbally he just shook his head and took a deep breath.
“Well...uh the lunch period is over and we’re just getting started your advisor is wondering where you are...” the handler finished awkwardly Ryland got the tears to stop he was already having a hard time being taken seriously here, he didn’t need them to think his crying was any of their doing.
The Disaster that followed really didn’t surprise Ryland that much, being basically called a “quack” and “emotional mess” as soon as he walked through the door had crumbled any resolve to try and be professional and to bow out of the argument. Calling the lead advisor a “Staggering waste of carbon.” Had all but imploded a promising career he had mapped out, the security escorting him out and he lobbed insults that would make Court laugh made him almost forget why he was feeling this way. At the airport he still sat as final boarding was called, waiting for Courtland to call him and tell him it was an awful joke that he wasn’t really gone. It didn’t happen and Ryland had to change his flight to stop in Florida before continuing to San Franscisco.
Ryland held the small cardboard box of what was left of Courtland it sagged in the humidity looking even more sad than it needed to be. The feeling of being truly alone hit him then, he sank to his knees in the dirt outside the prison and just stared at the box, no thoughts, no tears (for once), no feelings.
Ryland thought back to how he would pick up the twins when they were little their small frames and bony bodies elbowing each other and him as he ran laughing feeling like the strongest person ever, Ryland wasn’t as strong now the life of labs and long hours in front of computers, arguing with highly respected people in his field had changed that. Rylands lip finally trembled Court was too light even lighter he had ever been as a baby, just a pile of burnt up bone fragments Ryland wondered if the pins in his arms were in the box from when their father had broken it, he was half tempted to shake Court like a present to see if he could hear the metal rattling inside.
“Be a man! What type of men hides behind their sister!” Their father growled at the twins Ryland winced standing between them again he felt the coiled anger radiating from the back of him as the twins took turns holding each other back and trying not to jostle Ryland out of the way. Ryland knew he never had it as hard as the boys just classic macho man sexism most days or the constant uncomfortable reminders from their father of how much he looked like their mother. He was hit but he wasn’t burned like Court and Colt he thinks their father used Ryland’s care for his brothers against him most times and he took as much as he could to spare the younger boys, but it was never enough. Ryland’s childhood was always jumbled never a long-standing scene like in a film just grainy pieces of moments sticking out sharp like glass and always hitting at inappropriate times.
It had been 10 years since Courtland had died, Ryland had taken to talk to the small urn every morning traded out of the sad cardboard box for a somehow sadder warped silver bird shaped urn, the teacher salary barley survived but at least Courtland wouldn’t become a soggy cardboard paste if his leaky roof finally caved in, it was sad and a little morbid but the apartment was more quiet than normal the most recent relationship Ryland had finally fizzled out, his girlfriend had left for some guy named Mark that as she put it was a way more successful than him and didn’t have his head in the clouds. Ryland had spent the last 10 years on T so when he looked back at his reflection off the urn on this brief morning conversations he thought he looked like what Court and Colt should/would look like now.
Ryland was freshly 18 slamming his body against the locked bedroom door hearing Colt struggle in the water their father yelling at Court to watch what happens, their father rambling that he couldn’t raise the twins without Ryland there to keep them in line, that he was just going to even it out if Ryland was just going to leave them like their mother. Ryland remembers screaming, begging, promising anything to their father through the door offering himself in Colt’s place even. This whole thing being brought on at the remark Ryland had made about going to college. At one point over the screaming and the struggling there was a loud gunshot and a longer silence afterwards. Ryland bashed against the door finally busting it off the hinge and ran his bruised body to the bathroom.
Court stood in shock as Colt laid there outside the tub making choked sobbing noises as blood and water surrounded him and their father’s dead body laid slumped into the tub submerged in the water that he almost drowned Colt in, the gun was on the floor still smoking at Court’s feet. Ryland remembers grabbing the boys dragging them out of the room Colt grabbing onto him so tight he had bruises on his arm, Court was the opposite completely detached like he wasn’t there, checked out even the sirens grew closer he didn’t even fight when they handcuffed and arrested him. Ryland remembers being torn to try and stop them but also checking on Colt who sat looking so small in the back of the ambulance oxygen cannulas in his nose and tears in his eyes his arm a vice grip on Ryland.
Ryland shook his head roughly a little disturbed he made it to the school so locked into those memories. Kids ran past him, bells rang, class started Ryland kept having this feeling nagging him throughout the day something that had brought on those memories, but he didn’t know what it was. Talking to the kids about the Star Eaters and the Petrova line had compounded the fact that something was off so when Eva Stratt walked through the door looking for him there was a buzzing in his head like it was meant to happen.
“Knock, Knock” she stated she as she walked in.
“Whose there?” Ryland replied ever the optimist.
“I’m not good at jokes,” she waved her hand in front of her
“Not good at jokes who?” Ryland ribbed a forced smile on his lips.
“Did you write this paper.” She continued pulling out his dissertation and calmly held it in front of his face, Ryland’s face dropped. Even though it was a question it didn’t sound like a question. Ryland couldn’t think of anything to do but laugh and start planning a very obvious escape. It was at the point he tried to turn from Eva Stratt and ride off in a general direction that could be his house or down a very steep hill when he hit a very human shaped wall.
Ryland craned his head and looked up at the very intimidating man and felt his blood turn to ice the almost striking image of his father stared stoically down at him, Ryland suddenly felt five years old and very small. Ryland tried to play it off stepping back eyes downcast and holding out his hand the stranger who seeing the slight tremor his hand was doing didn’t take it.
“…Hi, nice to meet you, and you are?” he spat out trying to be friendly.
The man didn’t answer he squinted a little like he was trying to figure out something but shook it off in a quick moment and looked behind Ryland back at Eva who spoke again.
“His name is Six he’s on loan from the CIA as security for the task force. He’ll be shadowing you through the whole process if you are up for it. Six this is Dr. Ryland Grace he will be, helping us with the Petrova Taskforce.” Ryland humorlessly smiled at the illusion of choice followed by a command and quickly looked back towards Six to see if he caught it to, he had calmed down considerably and could look at this large man who did look like his father at first glance but now looked like wanted to be anywhere else, Ryland’s father was a large man but years of alcoholism and laziness turned a lot of his brute strength just in his weight, Six was a brick house and made the fading image of Ryland’s father look so much smaller and frailer in his head, it made him loosen up considerably. Six seemed to relax a bit when he noticed Ryland not freaking out staring at him again, which also appeared to confuse him slightly but whatever internal monologue he had was shaken off by duty or whatever he straighten and opened the SUV door for Ryland to step inside.
“The sun’s really dying, isn’t it?” Ryland looked at Six who simply nodded and ushered him into the car.