A/N: Well, since I've been obsessing since I read the DL, I figured I should write something already!

Disclaimer: SRB own the DL. I'm not her.

Nick scowled into his coffee. He had just gotten home from school, and it had been the worst day yet in his new home. His teacher had called him out to read in front of the class. Maybe these damn teachers wouldn't make him do such stupid things if they saw him with his sword. Teachers always did seem rather against long, pointy objects.

He hardly glanced up when Alan came limping into the room.

"Hey," Alan said with an easy smile, "I think the coffee's sufficiently intimidated by now. You've been glowering at it for at least an hour."

Nick refocused his glare at his older brother.

"My question is what do you get to do all day while I sit imprisoned in a classroom with a droning old hag!" he threw at the mellow redhead.

Alan chuckled.

"I sit paying bills until I get to go to work at Larry's Corner Shop, where I spend the rest of my day cleaning the men's room and selling soda and potato chips to angry looking motorcyclists."

Nick snorted. At least he had a reason to be moody. He lived on the run with his brother and insane mother being constantly pursued by a bunch of bloodthirsty magicians, and in between all of this, old ladies forced him to read. His life sucked.

He pulled loose from these thoughts at the sound of Alan sighing.

"What?" he asked gruffly.

Alan glanced at him.

"Nothing," he said, pulling the cold cup of coffee from in front of Nick and dumping it down the drain. He was such a housewife.

"You sighed. That means something. I've lived with you for sixteen years now."

At that remark, Alan looked uncomfortable. Nick made a mental note of this, but pressed on.

"I know something's wrong. Now tell me."

"It's just- Well, don't you ever enjoy school?" he asked. Nick snorted. "I'm not just talking about reading, and learning things, but what about friends? You have friends at school, don't you? I've seen you hang around with Jeff McClintock and his gang. Don't you like hanging around with people your own age?"

"I have you," Nick replied, confused, "Why should I need friends?"

Alan looked disappointed. Nick's confusion mounted.

"Why do we need anyone? We do just fine by ourselves! Look at us! They don't know anything about me, or what my life's like. I have no idea what their lives are like either, and I don't give a damn what their lives are like!"

Alan peered into his face for a long moment, then turned away. Nick shut his eyes tight when Alan began to limp away again.

"Wait," he called after his brother, who turned back at the sound of his voice, "Why…" he trailed off, searching for the words. Words were so damn hard! "Why are you always so disappointed in me?" he asked, "Why do you always care so much about me having friends, or caring about people? Isn't it enough that I care about you?"

Alan stared hard at him again, and Nick saw the faint, shiny trace of tears welling in his eyes. He didn't know what he had said to set off Alan's emotional side again. He was sure Alan knew that he thought that his brother was the only important thing in this world. What else did he have? As long as he could remember, Alan was always there, taking care of him.

"Nick," Alan said, his voice faltering, "I'm not disappointed in you. If I'm ever disappointed, it's in myself. But- well, it feels…nice. To hear that, I mean."

"Stop being so stupid," Nick said, feeling the words wash over him without any recognition of what they meant. "Why the hell would you be disappointed with yourself?"

Alan smiled a grim smile.

"Because you're my brother," he said finally.

Nick never knew what the hell he was talking about.