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His day had been rough, a mess of wires and tumbles that left bruises and sprained his wrist, and though he had pushed against it, Jody stomped her foot and demanded he take a week off, at least. So he sighed, cradling his newly bandaged hand to his chest and turned to go to his car.
The long drive felt emptier than usual, no matter how loud the rock radio screamed at him through the speakers, he couldn’t help but feel that something was terribly wrong. Other than his worse than usual injuries, of course. Trudging his way up the steps to his humble apartment, he came to an abrupt stop as two blonde heads turned to look at him from the couch, a re-run of some comedy show on.
One slicked back, with strands coming loose from natural movement, and another messy and ridiculously bed-like. The latter had a red twizzler gummy hanging out of his mouth in shock, the other popping a large bubble of pink chewing gum, before they registered that he was actually there.
“Colt!” The youngest exclaimed, happiness radiating off his body language as he tumbled over the couch, long, thin legs caught in the blankets, while the oldest just blinked, and then smiled at him. “Colt.” He had said much more calmly, and only then did Colt see what was wrong.
Court was supposed to be in Belgium for another week, overseeing some underground EU meetings, and Ryland.. Ryland wasn’t even on Earth, he hadn’t been for a long 16 years, and Stratt had told him herself that he wouldn’t be coming back.
He thought it was just his luck, that his brothers had come back to him no matter the odds until he raked his eyes over their bodies in his disbelief.
Court’s shirt was soaked in blood, riddled from bullet holes in a peace-meeting gone wrong, and Ryland looked gaunt in his usual goofy shirt, like all the water had been sucked out of his body, radiation burns littering up and down his arms.
He had opened the door to greet his dead brothers a broken hello.
Ghosts were real, apparently. Against all logic and whatever bull the internet spouted, they were corporeal and your hand did not go through them, sending icy shivers down your spine. Colt made that mistake when he reached to touch one of Court’s bullet wounds, looking at his hand in horror as his hand came away slicked with his brothers’ blood. He had promptly fainted then.
Ryland couldn’t help the little snort that escaped him as he softened the blow, making sure Colt’s head didn’t hit the floor on his way down. Court made his way around the couch proper to pick their brother up, carrying him over to the bed and made him comfortable as the ghosts stood around the last remaining member of their family.
“So..” Ryland started awkwardly, twisting his hands around in front of him. “How’d you die?” He asked, like it was simply about the weather. Court’s lips twitched upwards, and he crossed his arms. “Shoot out at the parliament, very messy. You?” He shot back, like ordering dessert. Ryland moved on to fiddle with a loose string on his t-shirt, a sad little smile on his face. “It was either me, or my friend.” And that was that.
They stood in stasis, watching as Colt’s breath steadied, and waited for him to wake.
The smell of breakfast being made woke the second born, a heavenly mix of fried eggs and toast before the events of yesterday slammed into him. Colt shot up with a gasp, disoriented and confused as he yanked the blanket laid over him in a sharp motion, wincing at the throbbing pain from his wrist.
Please don’t let it be a dream, his mind begged quietly, please don’t take them away from me again.
He stumbled into the doorway of the kitchen in a panic, watching in stunned silence as his brothers flitted about making him food and coffee, just as he liked it.
Court noticed him first, because of course he did, greeting him in that stable way he always did. “Colt.” He said simply, placing down a steaming mug down in front of him on the counter and Ryland whirled around from his place by the stove to shoot a wide eyed look at his twin. “Colt!” He said again, just like yesterday. Ryland turned the stove off quickly, plating the eggs so they wouldn’t burn and ran up to his brother.
“Hey.” He said a lot more calmly, a touch awkward.
And Colt sobbed, dragging his martyred brother into a tight hug, ignoring the way he could feel every bone under his thin shirt.
He would never let go ever again.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t pick up that day.” He had whispered into the quiet of his living room, a random feel good movie on the TV. Ryland’s hand tightened their grip in his hair, before resuming the gentle brushing.
“It’s okay.” He had replied a few moments later, as Court reached over to place a hand on Colt’s thigh. “It wouldn’t have changed a thing.” He gave his brother a sad smile that didn’t reach his dead gaze, brushing a stray lock out of his eyes.
And though the regret had been eating him alive for the past almost two decades, he found a bit of the weight lifting off his shoulders.
He took Ryland’s shaking form into his arms, letting his built up anguish spill over like a broken dam.
What if it did, though?
The week passed in a blur, full of warm, ghostly touches and nostalgic breakfast with the light chatter of people who should’ve passed on by now.
“I don’t want to leave you.” Ryland whispered selfishly to him in the dark of his room, the sun set to give them privacy, when he asked them why they still lingered.
Court held his hand until he was asleep.
The again went unsaid, but they all had heard it.
Soon it was time to go back to work, and though he felt like a child on their first day of school, he still swallowed past the lump in his throat to ask his brothers a question.
“Will you still be here when I come back?” He twisted his hands around themselves in his nervousness, a deep set of sadness weighing him down.
Court’s eyes softened as he stepped forward to place a gentle hand at the base of his neck, Ryland smiling at him with that brighter than life smile.
“Always, our dear brother.”
And Colt closed the door, knowing he wouldn’t be coming home to an empty house ever again.
“How was your day?” Ryland had asked him every day after work without fail, arms open in invitation as Colt slammed himself into them.
And though they weren’t really there, Colt could still hug them like before, and he found that it didn’t really matter that he couldn’t feel their hearts beating anymore.