Hey everyone! Danni here! Sorry it took me so long to get anything out. Fear not, I AM working on the next chapters of each of my fics, they're both in progress as we speak. I'm in the long run of the last couple weeks of school, so bear with me. Summer is almost upon us!
In the meantime I've been wanting to get this out of my head, and I figured you guys would like to know what happened too. I keep thinking of these little things that have happened in the boys' childhood, so maybe if there's enough interest I can always write more.
Don't forget: I'm always willing to answer any questions, comments, or concerns, so leave a review or shoot me an ask on my tumbler of the same name.
The Smythes couldn't ask for better children than their sons. Sebastian and Tobias were the sweetest boys in the entire world: Eight years old and bright as the sun. As twins they did everything together, never wanting to be apart for anything, and their parents were more than happy to indulge their every whim.
Toby was usually the one dragging Bastian from one adventure to the other, weaving tales of suspense sewn together from multitudes of storybooks, and directing his brother through his roles in order to make sure the fairytale had its happy ending. Bas followed dutifully, adding life with his own flare to the princes and monsters he was assigned.
At the time the Smythes assumed the two would be unstoppable when they grew, but one day in September changed everything.
It was a morning like any other. Dad had the day off, content to spend a day at home with his family, and Mom had just completed her winter deadline. The boys were outside playing in the sprinklers, their laugh echoing clear across the block as Bas chased Toby through the water. He dove as he caught up to his brother, catching him around the middle and sitting on him as he determinedly poked at Toby's sides. Toby squealed and tried to squirm away, slapping at his hands. It wasn't long before the boy cried mercy.
Bas crowed in victory. "Now you're my prisoner!" He grabbed Toby's hand and scrambled off of him, tugging him to his feet. "Come on!" He took his brother around the yard, trekking through tunnels and skipping across hot lava as he stole away the defeated prince.
They dashed across the driveway and up the incline towards the house, stopping for breath beside their father's mustang. Giggles slipped through their teeth as Toby began adding to the story. Knights were chasing after them to save the prince. Bas wouldn't get away with his crime!
A smug smile pulled at Bas's lips. "Ah, but I have a dragon!" He gestured grandly at the mustang, and then pulled at the handle. He threw his weight back to pull open the door, hurrying to get on the other side of it once it was open. "Your chariot, sir." He stated with a flourish, bending a little at the waist and throwing out his free arm to invite Toby up on the seat as he pushed back against the door.
Toby frowned slightly. "We're not supposed to be playing with Daddy's car, Bas." He said softly.
Sticking out his lower lip, Bas shrugged. "We're not going to break it. We're just going to sit in it."
It took less than five seconds for Toby to make a decision before he was climbing into the car. Bas jumped in after him, letting the door slam shut. They sprawled across the sun warmed leather seats, voices breathier and more excited as the risk of getting caught settled on them.
"Comfiest dragon ever." Toby said after a little while, leaning over to poke Sebastian in the stomach. Bas flailed in surprise, almost sliding off the seat, but reached up in time to catch himself. With a bright roar, he launched himself across the middle to get his revenge.
The car suddenly lurched, the kids so involved in their game that they barely noticed until they felt themselves start rolling back down their driveway.
"Bas?" Toby asked, pushing at his brother's shoulder. "What's going on? Did it turn on?"
"No, it rumbles when it's on." He clutched at the seat, looking up through the windshield.
"But we're moving." Toby pushed harder, finally getting his brother to move back into the other seat. "How do we stop it?"
Bas stared at the dashboard. "We should tell dad. Come on."
Toby pulled on the door handle and tried to push his door open, setting his shoulder against the heavy weight. It creaked as it opened and the boy looked down, breath hitching. "Help me," he demanded, and Bas stood up to go help when all of a sudden the world jolted around him and he went flying.
Everything hurt. Bas whimpered from his place on the floorboards. There was a pounding in his head harder than anything he'd felt before, and his arm was pinched where it twisted behind him. Tears burned in his eyes, and after a few minutes he realized there were voices nearby.
"Go up and knock on the door, Renee, make sure they know-" A man spoke frantically, but his words didn't make sense. "Yes, hello, I'm calling to report an accident. This boy is hurt, there's blood-"
Bas rubbed at his face with his good arm. Hurt? Maybe a little sore, maybe a LOT sore, but he didn't think he was bleeding. He sat up to ask Toby what happened, but his pain was forgotten when he saw the seat empty above him. He climbed up to look in the back, and then out the window. Staring at the scene before him, Bas couldn't understand what was going on. Tobias lay in the street, face slack as if sleeping, but the blood pooled around him and staining his skin ruined the illusion. Bas took in details slowly: the black and purple bruises blooming across Toby's belly, the way his chest heaved and stuttered to a stop every couple of seconds. There was a man kneeling next to him, a cell phone pressed tight to his ear.
There was a fearsome shout. Bas and the unfamiliar man turned towards the house to see Mr. Smythe break into a run down the yard, followed by his wife and the other woman. Bas watched his dad fall to his knees next to Tobias. He was hesitant to touch his son, limiting himself to smoothing his bangs off his forehead, his lips moving as he spoke but Bas couldn't hear him.
The car door opened behind him, and the sight of his mom's tears as she reached out to him broke whatever spell he'd been under. He stumbled into her arms, sobbing as the fear and pain finally registered. Sounds assaulted him in a rush. His parents, the other couple offering help; sirens ringing in the distance and growing ever closer. There was a small crowd now that he hadn't noticed before, murmured conversation rising and falling as people tried to figure out what happened.
Emergency vehicles arrived and more men joined the scene. The police pushed back the crowd, while firemen made sure the wreck was no longer dangerous. Medics descended on Toby like vultures, their movements swift as they readied him for transport. Bas could hardly bring himself to pay attention, safe in his mother's arms, but one of the medics approached while Toby was being loaded into the ambulance.
"Son, are you hurt?" he asked, staring into Sebastian's eyes as if searching for something.
Bas hiccuped and shook his head, without thinking, drawing closer to his mom. The medic gave him a reassuring smile, reaching forward to gently inspect the arm that Bas held cradled against his belly. The pain was sharp, and Bas cried harder.
"Come on, sweetheart." His mom kissed his cheek. "Let's get into the ambulance. Phil, pack up a couple bags and meet us at the hospital," she instructed firmly as she carried Bas up next to Toby, and his dad nodded.
The doors shut and they were on their way. That trip will become Sebastian's worst memory, and he never lets himself forget it. Watching his brother die in front of him is in image that will frequent many nightmares for years to come.
Tobias didn't wake up for a week. Multiple surgeries left him pale and weakened. Rose and Sebastian never left the hospital, and Phil only left to get supplies and sleep. Collision with the car door had given Bas a broken wrist and a mild concussion, but he suffered it silently, lips pressed into a thin line. He had cried hard the first night, all but alone in a hospital bed. His mother had been there as well, but a doctor came to talk to her and she'd pressed a kiss to Bas's cheek before following him out. A nurse came in from time to time to see if he was okay, trying to soothe him, but she had no answers to his questions and the night passed restlessly.
By morning he had forced himself together, finding little help in tears. He said nothing when his mother returned with news that Toby would recover, though the relief filled him to his toes, and made not a sound when his father finally scolded him for playing with things that weren't his.
When the doctor released him from his bed, Bas waited impatiently until he was allowed to see his brother, and he'd promptly put himself at Tobias's beside; refusing to move for almost anything.
Toby felt heavy and he didn't understand why. He didn't know where he was, there were strange sounds surrounding him, and he couldn't remember falling asleep, much less leaving home. He tried opening his eyes, but it was harder than it should have been. A small sound escaped his throat, and he felt movement next to him. A familiar hand slid over his, and he finally managed to crack his eyes open to see his twin.
Something wasn't right. Bas looked tired in a way Toby had never seen before. He opened his mouth to ask, but his voice only came out in a croak. A door opened before he could try again, and he heard his father's voice. Bas pulled away, sliding out of view as Toby was surrounded by their parents. Sound was rising and falling around him dizzyingly and he closed his eyes again, wanting to go back to sleep.
He woke to his mother's voice singing softly, her hand petting gingerly down his cheek. He felt much better, and had little trouble opening his eyes. Rose's face was blotchy with tears, but she was smiling as she noticed him. "Good morning, baby," she greeted, her voice thick with relief. Toby realized something bad must have happened to make her like that, but he couldn't remember what it was.
Over the next few days he had a lot of his questions answered. He'd been in an accident, but was going to be okay. Sebastian had been taken home, and he was fine too, which settled on Toby as a sure fact: They were okay; there was no need to think about it more.
He was told not to run around for a long time because his stitches had to heal. He'd pouted when he learned they'd had to cut his hair to put more stitches in his head, but he mostly just wanted to go home, curl up under his blankets, and share a book with his brother.
Going home was a whirlwind of activity. He got to ride in a wheelchair while the doctor gave his mom instructions, the nurse said goodbye to him with a smile and offered him two suckers, telling him to give one to his brother. They stopped for take out on the way home, and picked up his medicine, which made Toby wrinkle his nose. He didn't like medicine, but his mom assured him it will make sure he's not sick. He was somehow exhausted by the time they pulled into the driveway, and his mom asked him to stay put while she went inside. The next thing he knew his father was chuckling softly and picking him up, carrying him up to his room. Toby finally ended up settled in bed with a tray on his lap and cartoons.
It felt like an age before Sebastian finally appeared. Toby's spirits lifted immediately on seeing him, and placed the tray on his bedside table. He patted the bed insistently until Bas too the invitation and they sat cross-legged across from each other. There was a moment of silence before Bas tipped forward, wrapping his arm around Toby and holding on tightly. "I'm so sorry," he whispered, almost choking on the words. "Please don't hate me."
Toby's eyes widened. "Why would I hate you?" He pulled back so he could see Bas properly, confused.
"Cause I got you hurt and now you're sick and you have no hair." There was a stubborn set to his jaw that would have made him laugh if it weren't for the look on Bas's face.
Lips pursed, Toby frowned at him. "You're stupid," he said after a moment. The look on his brother's face was priceless. Satisfied, Toby nodded and continued. "You got hurt too, and I know you would never hurt me anyway. You're my brother and we protect each other." He grabbed Bas's hand and pulled him over to sit side by side with him, scooting to give him room, and then leaned carefully against his shoulder with a yawn. "Unless you're trying to kidnap me, I suppose. You make a good monster." The boys giggled and settled in front of the TV, food entirely forgotten.
Bas kept himself awake long after Toby drifted off, not really paying attention to the cartoons. He'd wrapped his arm around his brother's shoulders. "I will protect you," he muttered to himself, fighting off the burn of tears. Toby didn't understand, but that was okay. He didn't have to. Sebastian would take care of him.