Author's Notes: I'm rather sick of trying to come up with happy yuri at the moment, so take some of my typical shounen-ai depressing shmuck. With AU. Yay.
I've actually wanted to write an anachronological stream-of-consciousness-y "snapshots" sort of fic for awhile, but the first one I tried was terrible. I'm mildly satisfied with this one – far more than I was with Old, anyway – and I like it, even though there are some things that could be improved upon. So here it is.
Before the confusion kicks in, anachronological means that it doesn't flow along with the normal order of time. Like Haruhi, if you've seen it. Except instead of spazzing all over the place – which is a bit too confusing for something this short – it simply goes back in time. Hurrah. I would hope that you could figure that out anyway, but eh, making sure.
(Also, I was tempted to name this Don't Speak, as it's nearly a perfect title, but considering that there are about twenty fanfics and five songs with this name, I decided that it was far too overused, to the point of lameness. So. Lie Not.)
Lie Not
He bends over. Picks up a doll. "Honestly, you can stay." Throws it in a box. There's spam in the cupboard. That'll have to do. "Soren, seriously. Stop packing for a moment and listen to me." The books are in the other box, though a lot is left behind. "Soren!" He can have them, though, as he provided the money.
Two boxes in the car, one clothes and the other linen. Never had many personal effects, hated photos and disliked waste. Those all fit into the box. "Where'll you live, anyway?" The other was for food and water, perhaps a few legal forms. In waterproof bags, of course, as those would be a hassle to replace. "I mean, sure you're great at managing money, but it's no good if you don't have any." Two twenties in his pocket, three hundred in the bank. Just enough to make for a bit. Add in a job, dislike of food, and there. "I can't believe you're running off like... like a kid or something."
But he means it, and Ike sees that he's serious and adds, "You can always come back." Ike stares at the license plate as he speeds away, but it doesn't matter. The car's sold off half a mile from the airport.
Soren never goes to parties and never visits a friend, should he have one. The sole time Ike manages to drag him to his football game, he disappears during halftime.
"Why do you even bother with the kid? Probably wants to be left alone, anyway."
But Boyd's just fooled by the surface, having no reason or way to know. But Ike remembers and wants to revert. He knew a Soren who wouldn't act as he does now. He knows that they walk with one foot off the precipice, and it would take all his efforts to keep them whole.
"You're a psycho for caring," says the world – but Ike doesn't listen and trudges on.
"Tell Daddy I want a piercing," she demands in a sibling way. He ignores her and keeps writing. Something about the Kreb's cycle. "It's just one in each ear! Come on, if you ask it'll sound like a good idea. 'Cause he knows you're always the one with good ideas."
Mist bounces on the armrest of his chair, but he ignores her. Ike comes in for math help and is accosted by Mist.
The piercing arrangement made, he was once again bothered that night.
"There's a dead stray puppy on the street," Mist mewled. He doesn't seem to care and continues to write. "Tell Daddy we should bury it. If I say it, he'll call me a crazy animal lover." This time, he does.
Ike brings home pamphlets and thinks that Soren might be depressed. Soren dismisses him as a hypochondriac, diagnosing compulsively. But -- "I've been looking for that," Greil says, looking over his revolver. "Where'd you find it?" Ike doesn't want to say.
He's wary to the core and can't speak. Because a family is a family, and a brother loves as a brother. He loathes his hormones and wishes that his temptation wouldn't smother Ike's sincerity. He loves who he loves and hates his loving. He wishes that he could doubt their love, but it seems pure to him, and his own stands blemished in comparison. He's guilty of living with them without returning anything. He hates this so powerfully that it can overcome temptation.
Ike would chase him, but he would have to escape his heaven. For who was he to taint angels?
Soren's posture and attitude makes him bait for bullying, but Ike won't let that happen. He knows karate, and isn't afraid to demonstrate. The others mock him relentlessly by association, but don't dare to lay a finger on either of them. Ike is fine with this. Soren isn't. Don't lower yourself for me, he pleads with his distance. But Ike closes the gap between them. This is how he wants it to be.
The first time he comes to realize that his new family was honest and loving, he doesn't know what to do. He's torn between happiness and fear. Would natural order punish him for being an equal? This is impossible, isn't it? This can't happen. Something will go wrong. He'll mess it up somehow. He wishes it would stop. But it makes him so happy, for a moment.
Ike doesn't know why they're there. It seems like a happy enough family with just him and his sister, even if their mother passed away. Why pick up another child? But Greil is sympathetic to orphans and insists that Elena planned to adopt. Grumpily, Ike decides that he wants a brother. He already has a sister. Mist wants a sister, for similar reasons.
But all things are settled quickly enough as Ike attaches himself to a black-haired child in the corner.
"What's your name?" asks Greil in a fatherly voice. The boy shrugs. He doesn't know, or seem to have one. Greil wanted a more assertive child, but Ike insists and Mist doesn't seem to have a problem with the idea, and he relents.
Instantly, Greil knows that there's a problem developing. The child won't speak. They have to obtain his name from the legal forms – Soren. He answers questions with nods and shakes of his head. He plays games with Ike, but seems to be patient rather than happy.
But Ike's resolve only grows. He's determined to make his brother happy, he swears. And his dedication grows with hopelessness. "I love you, Soren," he pipes.
The first time Ike hears him speak, he responds quietly, "That's just what you're supposed to say."
Endnotes: I love and appreciate any comments, good or bad.