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The Rook household had been filled with most of the expected rules of childhood. There were carefully constructed curfews alongside of reminders of what to do around strangers. It was just that the most common one to hear the twins repeat was one that no one would ever expect to hold as much weight as it did. Not in a place as otherwise safe as where the two grew up, at least.
Look out for one another.
It was what had Shaun racing down from the Henbane, barely pausing to nod at Mary May before climbing the stairs two at a time.
How Silas had managed to get all the way to Fall’s End from up in the Whitetails was little short of a miracle. So, honestly, Shaun wasn’t all that surprised to find him curled up on the floor when he came in. At least it meant that Silas couldn’t catch how quick he was to grit his teeth against the sight of all the blood covering his brother; blood that couldn’t be his own.
Almost all the weight that Shaun had struggled to put back onto the other man had been stripped away from time spent in Jacob’s damn pens.
“Si?” Shaun bent down, hand braced on Silas’ back as his brother started. “Hey, it’s just me. Do you think you can get up?”
The nod was barely noticeable, but Silas climbed to his feet all the same, having to cling to Shaun’s arm so not to stumble so bad. He was rocking by the time Shaun placed him down to sit on the toilet, watching with half lidded eyes as Shaun filled up the tub. It was even harder to get his clothes off with Silas borderline unresponsive, eyes darting away from each mark Shaun had to unearth.
He clambered back up to his feet the moment Shaun gestured, though, shoulders climbing up and head ducking down when his brother’s eyebrows lifted.
“You need orders now.” Shaun couldn’t keep the hollow tone out of his voice. Not when it felt like his insides might very well have been scooped out with something rusty. “Don’t you?” He sighed at Silas’ nod, trying to straighten his features out into something that conveyed less judgement. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t fought against the same with Jacob, swallowing back the urge to follow even without the music.
If it weren’t for the dressings of the cult, Jacob Seed might very well have been a man Shaun would have idolized. And the implications of that were never nice to consider.
“In the tub,” Shaun settled for, jerking his chin. “No point in letting you sit in this filth.”
Silas got in so quick that water sloshed out along the sides, making Shaun shake his head with a chuckle. It didn’t do much to ease the tension out of Silas’ shoulders, but the kiss Shaun dropped there as soon as he knelt down helped with that. “Relax,” he said. “You’re not going to be punished for a bit of enthusiasm in following.”
It didn’t take long for the water to become a lost cause; the quality worsening with each bit of Silas that managed to get scrubbed clean. Shaun settled with wringing the washcloth clean in the sink until all that was left was Silas’ face, which he tipped up towards him.
It was something of a blessing to find that Silas was capable of melting into it.
“I’m not going to do anything while your in this.” His brow twisted when Silas’ head darted away. “Si, please, I—”
“I don’t even know their names.” Silas had risen his hands out from the water to stare at them. From how quickly his eyes were darkening, you would think they had never been rinsed clean. “God, I’m not even sure if I know how many of them there were.”
“That isn’t your burden to bear.” Shaun settled his hand on Silas’ shoulder, fingers digging in at the effort to shake him off. “I’m being serious, here, alright? None of this is on you.”
“I’m the one who decided to come,” Silas muttered. “You followed
me
. What aren’t I responsible for?”
“Well,” Shaun said, “last I checked you didn’t make the cult. And those lot have made their own disasters.”
Silas tipped his head back, face screwed up in the way that had always spelled Shaun’s downfall as a kid. “But we’re going to save them,” he said. “Right?”
Shaun swallowed hard, forcing back any of what he actually wanted to say. Given the lies their parents had based onto his shoulders rather than their own, it almost came easy. “We’re going to do our best,” was what he settled for.
It was best when it was a lie you wanted to believe in too.
Silas drew in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “Then…” The tip of his tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Will you fuck me?”
It already should have been wrong, but it was worse now when Shaun felt like he was trying to stitch Silas’ mind back together whenever their bodies pressed together.
Silas, for his part, however, clung just as hard. If it wasn’t his fingers then his mouth was somewhere on Shaun’s body, biting in marks that couldn’t be mistaken for anything else. A way of letting whoever else got their hands on them later that someone else had been there first.
At least Silas had wanted to be on his back, letting Shaun press in as close as he wanted. He wasn’t sure what he would have done if his brother had asked to be on his stomach. As it was, Shaun could already hear himself straining to catch another name on Silas’ lips.
Maybe, if the Seeds really could be saved then he could learn how to come around. But, for now, it was more important to focus on what
could
be fixed.
(Or so he hoped.)