Author notes: It's been a few years since I've written fanfiction and I obviously never wrote for This Is Us, but I couldn't stop thinking about the last episode and what would happen if for once Kevin was the priority, so I had to get this out of my chest.

"That beard for a movie?"

As he entered the house, Kevin Pearson ran in his mind for the thousandth time the lines he would say to his brother. All he needed was a plan, a way to get his father's necklace back and to stop his pain without swallowing those damn painkillers as if they were tic tacs. And if you need a plan, Randall is the Pearson you go to. Randall was stable, predictable, so predictable that Kevin didn't even had to be a good writer to write that script.

"Randall, I need to tell you something." The first line came easily for Kevin. Right timing, right tone, and right emphasis.

"Yeah, what's up, man?" Randall asked, as he closed the door and finally stood in front of Kevin.

Predictable, Kevin thought. So predictable that he was the only one who managed to stick to the plan and go to his dream college after their dad died, while Kate ate her feelings and Kevin was eaten by his.

No. Kevin couldn't do that. Why on the earth did he think that his brother - his stable and smart brother - could understand his pain? Randall would never let his life fall apart like that. Randall didn't let their dad's death to mess up with his life, why would someone else's pathetic issues disturb him?

Instinctively, Kevin's hand went to his pocket, reaching for the Vicodin that was missing long enough for him to realize how much of a loser he was. Also missing was the sensation of that small piece of metal on his skin, making his throat lock when he tried to speak.

He couldn't.

Thankfully, he was a loser, but a loser with a beautiful face - that's Kevin Pearson, ladies and gentlemen. With the smile his new improvised role needed and the nonchalant voice he'd mastered a long time ago, he answered: "Well, what's up with you, little brother?"

Randall's face frowned. "I... I'm fine, thanks" he answered. "Just doing some chores while the kids are at school."

"Good! That's good!" Kevin exclaimed, a little too loud, a good director would point out the mistake, but this was a live performance, no time for a redo. "That's really good."

As a confused man stared at him, Kevin smiled again, giving his brother's arm a little pat.

"Bro... Are you okay?" Randal asked as Kevin opened his mouth and tried to think of what to say next. He saw the look on his brother's eyes changing from confusion to concern as he calmly stated. "You called me."

Kevin's mouth moved, but didn't produce any sounds. The smile was still on his lips, but not on his eyes, and Randall was looking at his eyes. Betrayed by his own eyes, failing the number one lesson of a good performance. His body started to shake and he knew he had broken character, but he didn't know what to do to save that play, he didn't even know what the play was about anymore.

As he gathered the courage to let the words out, he barely noticed his brother's body getting closer, until he had two familiar arms around him and a flow of tears running through his face. "I lost dad's necklace."

"It's okay. It's okay, bro. You're gonna be okay."

Kevin couldn't count how many times Randall had said those same words in the last few minutes, but they were finally starting to calm him down a bit, so he could stand again. That wasn't a comfortable position for him. It certainly wasn't comfortable for Randall either, having a man of Kevin's height and weight leaning on his shoulders, but it was especially uncomfortable for Kevin because he wasn't used to that. He wasn't used to be that vulnerable in front of anyone, except maybe for Kate.

As he managed to recompose himself and face the shame to look into Randall's eyes, he noticed for the first time all the weight he had been carrying on his shoulders lately. He felt small and heavy.

"I need your help." Kevin's words were as loud as a whisper and he silently prayed that Randall would understand what he still couldn't say.

"It's okay, I'll help you" Randall repeated his soothing words. "Now, how about we go inside, so you can tell me everything?"

Kevin followed him to the kitchen, where he sat down, waiting as Randall opened the fridge and looked at it indecisive.

"Hmm... Water, milk, orange juice, wine?" He asked.

"No wine," he said quickly, causing his brother to look even more confused than he already was. "Just water. Please."

"Right..." Randall brought the water to the table, and Kevin drank not one, but two glasses in a matter of seconds. As the cold liquid hit his stomach, he felt nauseated. When was the last time he had eaten, anyway? He couldn't remember. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, the last thing he needed was to throw up at his brother's impeccable table.

A minute later, he opened his eyes to an apprehensive man staring at him. "Kevin, I don't want to make this about me, I want to let you take your time, but I'm really scared right now. If I hadn't talked to Kate just an hour ago, I'd think something happened to her or the baby, cause never in my thirty-seven years I've seen you that disturbed."

Kevin chuckled. His family had no idea how many times he felt like shit over the years. Flashes of his childhood and teenage years came to haunt him and gave him the anger he needed to spill everything out. "I'm an addicted Randall. Vicodin. I've been taking pills since my knee surgery and I lost the necklace dad gave me at a doctor's bedroom with whom I had sex so I could steal one of her prescription sheets afterwards." At the last part, his voice trembled again and he thought about the irony of the absence of the thing that was supposed to help him being what prompted him to ask for that help.

"Wow... I mean... Wow. Kevin!" A speechless Randall took off his glasses, putting them on the table, before taking them again and pacing around the kitchen. "Since your surgery? So it's been..."

"Six weeks." Kevin completed. It didn't feel like six weeks though, it felt like six days when he managed to screw his life even more than he already had.

Randall's expression changed at his answer. "You were here, what? Three, four weeks ago? Sophie's charity, right? Were you..." Kevin nodded. "You were sweating and drinking and saying weird stuff and you missed the auction. Why haven't I noticed anything? Kev, I'm so sorry, man" he completed, before sitting again.

Kevin tried to lighten the mood and even tried a smile. "I literally make a living out of pretending."

"And you're good, you know that? But you shouldn't have to pretend with your family, Kevin."

He knew that, but he couldn't help himself. So many years of pretending that he was unattainable! Kevin played with the now empty glass, looking past the object to all the times he was drowning and no one noticed. "How could I not, when you and Kate and mom always have something important going on?" His voice was weak, matching the way he felt. You have a wife, and kids, and Deja, and you just lost your biological father less than a year ago. And Kate's finally happy with a wonderful man, and she's losing weight, she'll have a baby. How can I take that happiness away from her? How can I take your time from your children with my pathetic life and my irrelevant issues?"

The flood of tears was back. All the heartache of a lifetime was gathered in that answer and his pain was almost unbearable - both physically and emotionally. When Kevin found the courage to raise his eyes and looked into Randall's, what he found surprised him. Those weren't the eyes of someone who thinks he's irrelevant. Those dark eyes had tears and Kevin saw love as Randall came closer and held his head the same way their father used to do.

"You're not pathetic, you're not irrelevant," Randall started and Kevin barely could see him, both still having wet eyes. "You're my brother and I'm glad you came to me. You are extremely strong for-"

"I'm not strong! Why does everyone keep saying that? I'm not strong. Dad wanted me to be tough, but I'm not. He was tough. "

"Kevin... Mom and dad didn't raise no cowards. You're here, you're asking for help. One has to be strong and brave to admit that they need help. And I'll help you. Do you want that necklace back?"

Kevin shrugged. He didn't want to hold on hope but he was too tired to argue. "It's the only thing I had from dad. I judged him, I was an ass, and he still gave me that. I wanted so badly to be like him and I was so judgmental when I found out he was an alcoholic... Now, look at me? The only thing I've got is that we're both addicted."

Out of nowhere, came a laugh. Randall's laugh. Kevin was confused and he looked around, searching for God knows what. Was all this a joke?

"You don't see, do you?" Randall asked, trying to be serious again.

"See what?" Kevin cried. "I'm in pain, Randall. I didn't know I had so many bones in my body until each one of them started to hurt."

"I'm sorry," Randall apologized and Kevin listened as he continued. "It's just... You're all dad, Kev. From the look in your eyes, to the way you take care of Kate and the way you'd rather suffer by yourself than bother anyone. I've been jealous of you my entire life, because when we were kids no one ever doubted you were his kid and now you'll never need a picture to remember him." Those words hit Kevin hard, maybe harder than everything else did. His throat closed, his stomach jumped, he was trembling and the air felt colder. "Kevin, brother, if you want that necklace, I'll go to hell and back to get it for you, as I'll go to hell and back to help you get better. But you don't need that piece of metal to have something of dad in you."

As the tears kept flowing, Kevin felt the corner of his lips curve in a tiny crooked smile. For the first time in many days, that was a real smile.