Hi guys. Once again, I apologize for being so inactive. I've been super busy with school this semester, and I've also been working on a new project that I don't want to publish until it is finished. To keep this account active, here is a an essay/short story I wrote for a writing class over the summer that I quickly adapted into Fanfiction. Hope you guys enjoy!

Brotherhood

On a sunny afternoon in late September, Sonic ran down the concrete court with his older brother hot on his heels. His left hand dribbled the ball while the other wiped the blanket of sweat from his forehead. His green eyes glanced around the half court; he knew his older brother would be blocking his way within the next few seconds. His brother was taller than him by a couple inches and was built with muscles from hours of hard labor at his job; one would think there was no way Sonic was going to be able to get around him without the ball being snatched from his hands or his shot being blocked. Sonic skidded to a stop as his brother appeared in front of him. A smirk was painted on the older boy's lips as he stared down at his little brother. His arms were stretched out on either side, blocking any path his brother tried to take. Green and blue held each other for a moment. Sonic knew there wasn't any way to openly get past his brother. The older boy would simply get in front of him and possibly snag the ball out of his hands. He had to think of another way. "Think about it," his older brother, Scourge, told him. "What do you have that I don't?"

"Aside from good looks and a brain bigger than a peanut, I'd say not much – we do look alike," Sonic answered with a smug smirk. Scourge rolled his eyes in annoyance. The younger boy took his brother's momentary distraction to duck under his arms and run towards the rusty basket. Carefree laughter left his lips as his brother's annoyed profanities rang out after him.

"Get back here you little shit!"

Though Sonic had the perfect opportunity to jump onto the basketball hoop to dunk the ball, he continued to run around the court with his brother close behind him. To his older brother's annoyance, the younger boy enjoyed the cat and mouse game they played when he got ahold of the ball. Their playful banter and mock wrestling on the concrete court was much different than the intense atmosphere on the wooden court inside of his high school gym. On the hot cement, there was no one watching or judging him; the two brothers were the only ones who ever occupied the old street court that lay on top of a hill on the south side of town. They had their own little world on that concrete court.

Sonic could practically hear their laughter from that last Sunday they'd spent together. It echoed through his ears so clearly, you'd think the two brothers were standing right in front of him. But for the first time in eight years, he sat alone on the court. For once, he wasn't dressed in his typical tee shirt, shorts, and designer basketball sneakers. Instead, he was clad in a black suit, tie and dress shoes. He was sitting on the cold concrete with his back against the pole that held the metal basketball hoop hovering above him. His dress shoes were scuffed up from his long walk in them, the first few buttons on his shirt were undone to ease his sore throat, and his blue curls were unruly from his hands running through them. Tears streamed slowly down his face as he stared down at the other side of the court – his brother's side of the court.

Sonic remembered the last time he'd talked to his brother – only a week prior. They'd made plans to grab pizza after Sonic's basketball practice on a rainy Tuesday. The two hadn't gone out for dinner in a while, and Scourge thought could use a little break from their mother's cooking. The younger boy had been excited to see him. They'd only had time to play basketball on Sunday's for a few hours due to their busy schedules. Sonic had been volunteering as a junior basketball coach at the community center while Scourge had been busy taking care of his fiancé and their new house. However, they always made time for each other.

Sonic had sprinted out the double doors once he and his team were finally dismissed from practice. His green eyes eagerly scanned over the parking lot in search of his brother's familiar black car. Yet, the car was nowhere to be found. Sonic checked the time on his phone. The team had gotten out a bit earlier than usual. His brother would probably be there soon. Sonic took a seat on one of the benches outside of the gym under the ledge; he'd be dry there while he waited.

Five minutes turned into ten minutes. Ten minutes turned into thirty minutes. Thirty minutes turned into an hour. One hour turned into three. By the thirty minute mark, Sonic was already worried. He knew his brother hadn't forgotten. They'd just talked on the phone the night before about their dinner plans. His brother also didn't call or text explaining that he would be late or if they had to call for a rain check. Sonic did call and text, though. He'd left about five voicemails and thirty text messages for his brother asking where he was – he was getting worried. His brother never stood him up without any type of warning or acknowledgement. His silence was new, and it made Sonic uncomfortable.

With a disappointed sigh, he gave up on their plans and walked home in the rain. When he finally got to his house, he was met with a "we need to talk" from his somber eyed parents. At first, Sonic thought nothing of it. His mother wasn't crying, and his father didn't seem upset. He had assumed they wanted to talk about college choices or his grades or even if he was bringing his girlfriend to the community banquet they were attending later in the week. He hadn't expected to hear Scourge had been in a car crash. He hadn't expected his brother had died. He refused to believe his brother had died. The news had come from his father. The man had delivered the news in a steady voice and dry eyes. He wasn't Scourge's father; he'd never really cared about the boy. There was no sadness or sympathy for his loss. There was only the facts in a tone Sonic couldn't decipher. "No," Sonic replied. "He's not dead. He's probably waiting for me at the school right now. He was just running late." His father had sighed as he put a hand on his son's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, son, but he's gone. He's not coming back."

"No!" Sonic exclaimed as he pushed his father's hand off of him. "You're lying! He's not dead! He's just running late! He's not gone! He wouldn't leave without saying goodbye! He wouldn't do that! He wouldn't leave me!" His father extended his hand out to him, but Sonic dodged it. He ran out the front door into the cold rain. His long legs were moving, but they didn't know where they were going. He just ran until his lungs were lacking oxygen and he had no choice but to stop. He collapsed down on the wet concrete of the basketball court where he'd stopped. He gasped for air as he looked out at the court on the top of the hill – the court he had found himself at after the funeral.

The raggedy ball the two had played with since they met was sitting next to him. Scourge's father had pushed it into Sonic's hands at the end of the funeral. The man was a stranger to the younger boy, but he was a kind stranger with tear stains that matched Sonic's. "He'd want you to have this," the man had said as he gave Sonic the ball. He didn't say anything more before he walked away; Sonic knew there was nothing more he could say. The ball spoke for them; it carried the history of the two brothers, starting from the very day they met.

"Who are you," Sonic had asked as he approached the older boy sitting on the couch. His mother and a man Sonic didn't recognize were conversing in harsh tones in the other room. The two could hear their banter through the walls. Sonic could hear the stranger telling his mother about the trouble their son was getting into and his mother asking why it was her problem – the boy was his responsibility. The older boy's eyes were cold as he looked down at the younger boy. Sonic acknowledged they shared the same wide eyes, caramel toned skin, and unruly curls – like his mother.

"Who the hell are you," the older boy asked stonily. He glared down at the eight year old.

The younger boy wasn't fazed by the teenager's insidious glare. "I'm Sonic," he said as he held his hand out.

The teenager raised an eyebrow. "Scourge," he said with a nod.

"You know my mom?"

"Unfortunately." Scourge glanced at the direction the voices were coming from. "I'm your brother."

Sonic gasped in excitement. "I have a brother," he exclaimed happily. "That's so cool! I didn't know I had a brother! I have a big brother!" Scourge was annoyed at the child's unexpected joy, but he had to admit he was a bit amused to finally meet the little brat who got the mother he never had. "Can we do brother things? Like play sports and stuff?"

"No," Scourge replied harshly. "Just because we're brothers doesn't mean we have to be best friends." The younger boy was hurt by the teenager's words. His wide smile fell and his shoulders drooped. The thought of an older brother meant having someone to spend time with. All of his school friends lived on the other side of town with the nicer houses and less crime; their mothers would never let them come to his small house nor would she drive him back and forth. He was lonely.

Scourge noticed the younger boy's frown and scowled at the guilt awakening in his chest. "Alright," he said with a soft sigh. The younger boy looked up at him with hopeful eyes. "I guess we can give this thing a shot." Sonic smiled at his new brother and threw his arms around him. Scourge scowled and repressed the urge to push the younger boy to the floor.

Sonic notified the arguing adults that he was leaving with his brother. The two exchanged an uneasy glance before the teen appeared behind him. "Don't worry," he assured them. "I won't let anything happen to him." The adults reluctantly agreed, and the two boys walked off to the store. Sonic followed his older brother as Scourge looked for something to keep the younger boy occupied. The eight year old caught sight of a brand new basketball sitting in the window of the store. He tugged at his older brother's belt hooks and pointed to the item. Scourge had scowled down at the boy once again before he looked to the basketball. "You want a basketball," he asked with a sigh.

"I've always wanted to learn how to play. Daddy's just always too busy to teach me, and momma doesn't know how to play. Maybe you can teach me!" Scourge stared down at Sonic for a moment. He didn't want to admit it, but the kid was growing on him.

"Alright," he said with a sigh. "We'll get the basketball." Sonic cheered as his brother retrieved the ball. After they'd paid, Scourge led the boy up to the basketball court on top of the hill. Sonic was in awe of the seclusion and quiet of the location. Scourge didn't give the boy a chance to ask how he'd found it before he bent down to his height. He put the ball in the boy's hands and wrapped his large hands around Sonic's small torso. He lifted the boy up, much to the younger one's amusement, and commanded him to make a shot. The boy eagerly threw the ball at the metal backboard. Both of them grimaced as the ball collided with the metal resulting in a loud clanking noise. "We've got a lot of work to do," Scourge muttered.

From then on basketball became their sport. Scourge would wait for Sonic at the bus stop every day after school, walk him home, help him with his homework, and they'd rush out to the court on top of the hill. Every day, Scourge taught Sonic how to dribble, shoot, pass, and block. Their lessons turned into small games. Their small games turned into playful scrimmages. Their playful scrimmages turned into a bond. Scourge became very fond of his younger brother, and Sonic considered his older brother to be his best friend. Basketball was their sport. They'd started it together, and Sonic promised they'd always do it together. So what happened now that Scourge was gone? Was basketball still worth playing? Would basketball still have the same meaning? Would their bond still have the same prominence? Was their bond even still alive?

Sonic cradled the raggedy ball in his lap. Engraved in Sharpie marker was the two boys' names. Scourge had written them together in the form of an infinity symbol. "We'll always be brothers," he'd told Sonic as he scribbled the design onto the ball on a sunny summer morning. They were sitting side by side in the same spot Sonic sat alone. "Basketball made us brothers. Without it, I probably would've thrown your annoying ass in a river by now." Sonic chuckled. "But it's built us up and kept us close." The older boy set the ball in Sonic's lap. "As long as one of us is playing, the other will always be right there playing alongside."

His brother's words echoed in his ears as if he were right next to him. Sonic stripped off his suit coat and rolled up his sleeves. He slowly stood up from his spot and bounced the ball. "I bet you I can beat you to the other end of the court," he whispered to himself. Bet you I can take that ball from your hands and dunk on you. His brother's voice rang in his head. Sonic smiled through his tears. "You're on," he whispered. He ran towards the other end of the court, bouncing the ball against the concrete. His brother's footsteps followed his, and he could almost see a hand reaching out to take the ball. Sonic danced around the invisible hands with the falling sun behind him. Though he was alone, there was a faint shadow of a person playing the game with him

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