Disclaimer: I don't own Daughters Of The Moon.
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Collin can sit and wait, and that is all.
He is useless, so pathetically useless, and yet he can't help but recall his childhood pledge to protect her from the monsters. In fact he had promised to never abandon her as their mother had, but he never imagined she would leave him.
Not in a million years.
She's his little sister – was his little sister.
She's not dead, he curses inwardly, feeling his muscles straining against the weight of his rage. She's just gone...
Forever.
Into eternity, a reality he can never touch or even fathom.
"But it's what she wanted," he whispers to himself, now cradling his head in his hands as he leans forward, the dining room chair creaking underneath him. Biting back a sob, he rocks from side-to-side, imagining it's all a nightmare.
He'll wake up and his little sister will be baking muffins – chocolate chip because she knows it's his favorite and she loves smothering him with gross affection – and chastising him for dragging sand into the house "like an animal, except that would be an insult to Wally!"
Oh no.
Wally.
The raccoon is scurrying around the house, his nails scratching against the floor. He's panicky and anxious. Serena had been kidnapped months ago and now as the moon wavers from its silver glory, the black clouds coiling around it, it's Vanessa who has returned.
Not 'Rena.
Jimena is performing her duties, whatever those are, and he is stuck in his house, an idiot who knows what's coming but can't admit it.
Hope is a funny concept.
How can one admit their loved one is gone for good, but not dead? Aren't they mutually exclusive? Synonymous in nature?
"Where's mommy?" she had asked when she was six, not too long after their mother had walked out on the family. He had answered her – for what was probably the millionth time – with patience that had surprised him considering the anger possessing him, stating, "She's gone. I'm mommy now!" And she had scrunched up her face funnily and said, "You're a boy, you can't be mommy!" He had let her put makeup on him after that so he could "be a mommy."
And well into his adolescence had he drowned in anger when thoughts of his mother came around.
You left me. Okay, that's fine.
But you hurt Serena, and that's not fine.
Even now it upsets him to think of the hurt Serena had suffered, and then once again endured after her dumb boyfriend's "sacrifice" (or whatever he had deemed it and Serena had foolishly believed because "true love").
She's precious and kind and sweet. How could anyone hurt her?
But, more importantly, how could she ever hurt him, her own brother, like this?
Don't be selfish. He falls back against the chair and slumps down. Lifting his chin, he glares at the ceiling. It's her choice.
It's her choice to abandon her brother and her father and her best friend and her life and her stupid raccoon...
A lump bobs in his throat. I will not cry. I won't.
"No fear," he whispers.
But he is afraid.
So, so afraid.
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It's midnight when he hears the front door creak open. His father is working late at the office – although Collin knows it's an excuse to keep away from home, the memories; to finally acknowledge his baby girl is probably gone for good – so it's Jimena.
Coming to deliver the news he never wants to hear.
Ever.
Yet his legs pull him from the bed so he can slip into jeans, and suddenly he's tugging on a shirt while jogging down the hallway. His feet pound on the stairs as he descends, and rounding the corner he knocks right into her.
"Jimena, damn, I'm sorry, I – "
His hands are on her shoulders, steadying her, and he's distracted by the thick moistness of her eyes and her tangled hair and the bright pink color flushed across her face.
And the fact it's definitely not Jimena he's holding.
"Serena?" Collin exclaims, a chill running down his spine.
His sister sniffles and nods, and then she's sobbing and pressing herself into him, her thin arms snaking around him possessively.
The weight of reality flees from his body and he's suddenly light and dizzy. His arms encircle her small body – she's so broken and weak and small, it's startling – and a strange noise escapes his throat.
"I'm sorry," she cries loudly, her voice strangled and hoarse, "I'm so sorry!"
"Don't be," he reassures, his hand caressing her bushy mane of ratted curls. "I'm just – I – I'm so glad you're here, you have no idea."
"I'm sorry," she continues, and her body is shaking terribly, "but I had to, I didn't want to leave him, but I had to."
He wants to say, "You didn't have to."
He wants to be brave and selfless and say, "No, it's alright, you could've stayed with him, I would've understood."
He wants to say, "Go back and be with him, I hate to see you cry like this."
But instead he says, "Thank god" while tears spill from his eyes and his arms tighten around her, as if letting go of her will cause her to vanish.
Not again.
Never again.
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"So why did you stay?" Collin asks, and it's been a couple of months and he knows Stanton is a subject he's not allowed to speak of, but he can't help it.
He needs to know.
"I'm not mom," she responds, her voice sad, but then she's smiling at him. "And besides, I love my big brother."
"Ohana means family, right?"
"You're such an idiot," she says with a roll of her eyes.
"I'm your big brother, actually."
Serena grins at him. "Same thing, idiot. Now don't ask again, or I'll make you play 'mommy' like when we were kids!"
"At least your makeup skills have improved." He pauses, surveying her face carefully, and then adds, "Well, ahem, maybe not..."
She throws a pillow at him, hard, but he's still so grateful over her decision to stay he can only beam at her.