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It took Natalie too long to realize that she had not been studying for the past seven minutes, and instead just staring at the second hand on her watch go around and around and around. Goddammit. 2:13 AM, for what it was worth.
Everything, the Natalie of a few months ago would have said. This time could decide her future. Its worth was immeasurable. The Natalie now…
Natalie now’s life had gotten even harder than usual recently, and though it had started to ease up, tonight she was just tired. Not the never-ending exhaustion she’d lived with for so long, but the kind that was caused by the caffeine from her drink waning and would be helped by sleep. It was comforting, almost. Enough to be worth satisfying.
She started to clear her work into the appropriate folders, squinting with only the light of her small lamp to see by, and immediately ruined that painstaking sorting when she dropped them in surprise the moment she turned around.
Her brother was there.
She hadn’t recognized him, that first time two weeks back. How could she? Not like there were any pictures of him since he was a baby – not like Dad had let her see those anyways. Dad had been there the first time. No one had spoken. By silent mutual agreement, Dad and Natalie had ignored him, more or less. He hadn’t tried to change that. And now here he was again, just standing there, not talking to her. Why? He’d never seemed to shut up around Mom. What was his deal? Somehow, that was worse than anything he could have actually said. The mystery. What he might bring in the future.
“Why are you here,” Natalie said, voice sounding far away even to herself, and then the reality of this hit her. Her dead brother was in her room. Her dead brother who had almost killed her mother, who apparently wasn’t just a hallucination, who wouldn’t leave her the fuck alone, was in her room. “Why are you here!” She snatched up her drink, registering that it was still partially full as she hurled it at him. It hit his chest, sloshing out and staining the pale gray of his hoodie darker. How it could interact with him if he wasn’t real, was one question, but one that only murmured quietly inside her, drowned out by her anger. Her fear.
Her anger.
“Why,” she said a third time. She advanced, reaching out to – to hit him, to grab him? – before snatching her hand back. “TELL ME!”
“I don’t know,” he snapped, and she reeled. “I don’t know, I don’t know! Happy?”
She stared at him. It dimly occurred to her that his voice was higher than she’d expected. She’d had an expectation about that? And it had been – what, like some villain in a musical? His words caught up to her, and she snorted a laugh. “Fucking ecstatic,” she said. “You don’t know. Sure. What? You couldn’t get Mom to kill herself for you again, so you figured you’d settle for the sister?”
He flinched. “That was- I didn’t-” He drew in a shaky breath. “I did. I did,” he repeated, more to himself than to her, turning away.
How dare he. How dare he. He owed her an explanation, after sixteen years. “Okay,” she said, leaving that topic for the moment. “You’re not a hallucination. You can’t be, Dad can see you too. So Mom-”
“No,” he said before she could finish. “Mom didn’t… I don’t think she was supposed to see me that much. I don’t think I’m a hallucination either, though, but don’t take my word for it.”
“So, what? A ghost?”
“Maybe.” So very helpful.
“A manifestation of all my issues.”
“If you want.”
“I don’t,” she snapped, and felt pedantic for it. For all of this. Why are you talking to him? “I want you to be gone.”
“That makes two of us.”
“Like hell it does.”
“It does.”
His cadence was similar to hers. A sign that he was a figment of her imagination?
“Or a sign that you’re one of the few people I’ve heard talk in the past eighteen years,” he said, and at her startled look: “Yeah, you said that out loud.”
“Or you heard my thoughts. Because you’re from my brain too.”
“Didn’t you say that I can’t be a hallucination first?”
She ignored that. She had, but…
She didn’t know anymore. She didn’t know anything.
“What’s your name?” The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could think about it. “Actually, I don’t care. Just go away.”
He smiled, a little. “Gabriel. Like the angel.”
“Some guardian angel,” she muttered. “Devil on Mom’s shoulder, more like.”
He winced a little at that. “There are angels of death.”
“That’s Azrael,” she said automatically, then: “And who the fuck says that about themself?”
He didn’t take it back. Just looked at her with a steady gaze. Natalie held it, despite the urge to look away. She would not be the one to back down. “Gabriel,” she repeated. “Gabe. Natalie.”
“I know.”
“Of course you do.”
Her tone was more resigned than confrontational, now. Earlier, she’d been certain there was some angle to this conversation, something he wanted from her. Something she damn well wouldn’t give him. After this…
After this, he sounded more exhausted than her.
“You have Mom’s eyes,” she said. Darker than hers. Wider, too, in a way she couldn’t attribute to either of their parents. Maybe it was just his expression, younger than a legal adult’s should have been.
Older than an eight-month-old.
It made sense. Or, it would have, for Mom. The real memories and the visions of what might have been merging in her mind, resulting in… Gabe. For Natalie, maybe it did too. She’d thought about it before, what he’d be like if he was alive. What having an older sibling would be like. In her head, it wasn’t all bad. Not in the slightest.
The hope that ever lingered and the truth that wouldn’t be forgotten, and the boy who didn’t know what he was at the end of it all.
“Hello,” Gabe said, waving a hand in front of her face. “Anyone in there? Am I invisible again?”
She jerked away. It was too casual. Too normal. She was not normal, but she was getting closer, and she didn’t want him to be a part of that.
Except for how a little bit of her did.
No.
“For the record,” Natalie said, “I hate you.”
His mouth twisted into a rueful smirk, but she could see a flash of pain in his eyes. “That’s fair.”
“How long will you keep bothering me?”
“Told you, I don’t know.” He was silent for a moment. “I hope this isn’t the last time.”
“So you lied earlier?”
“Yes. No.” An exhale. “I shouldn’t come back. I’ve been fucking terrible, every time. But… I’m scared, Natalie. I don’t want to be alone.”
“Are we telling sob stories now?”
“I hope not. It’s a school night.”
“Very funny.”
“It was,” he said, a note of triumph in his voice as he pointed at her. “You almost laughed. I saw it.”
“No you didn’t.”
“Yes, I did!” He glanced at the door. “We are so lucky Dad hasn’t woken up.”
“Not a concern. He sleeps like the dead.”
Gabe considered. He said, “Not really.”
Natalie rolled her eyes. Gabe lifted a hand. “Goodnight, sunshine.”
“Goodnight.” She moved toward her bed, and hesitated. “Are you… going to leave?”
He looked down at himself. “I guess not. I’ll go wander the house or something until I do.”
“Sure. Fine. You do that.” She watched him push open the door and leave. She’d failed at avoiding casualness, but she could be okay with that. She’d go back to ignoring him tomorrow.
But when tomorrow came, he was gone. Natalie didn’t think much of it. She scarfed down a bowl of cereal, grabbed her bag and headed to the door. Routine. She paused, though, with one hand on the door handle. “Dad?”
“Yeah, Nat?”
“What was his name?”
Dad blinked. “What?”
“My brother.”
Dad studied her expression for a moment. Then the grain of the table. Then her again. He said, “Gabe.”
That had been true, then. Real. Something to build off of. “Thanks,” Natalie said, and made her way out of the house and to her bus stop.
“Okay, Gabriel,” she whispered into the air as she walked. She didn’t know if her brother was listening just then. She didn’t know if she wanted him to be.
Yes, she did.
“You can stay,” she said. “Just for now. And if you try anything, I’m finding a fucking exorcist.” Natalie Goodman tilted her face up, studying the sky. “But we can try this.” Could try coexisting. Some semblance of sibling-hood.
It might be interesting, at least.