"Brother..."

Rasiel's eyes opened to a familiar tugging at his nightshirt. He turned his head to the side so that he could look at his younger twin, and he wasn't surprised to see the other was donning an upset expression; the younger seemed to be upset by everything lately. He sat up. "What is it, Belphegor? Did you have more nightmares again?"

Bel nodded. A single tear rolled down his cheek as he pointed to his side of the mattress he shared with Rasiel. He sniffed, embarrassed by the large wet patch he had left behind; though Rasiel never got mad at him for wetting the bed, it was still humiliating for him and if he could, he would hide the evidence and pretend he didn't have such dismal control over his bladder.

"It's okay, Bel; it was an accident." As tired as Rasiel was, he still swung his legs over the edge of the mattress so that he, too, could stand. "Let's get you out of those pants and into something clean."

Bel sniffed again as he followed his brother over to the dresser on the other side of the room. He stood behind Rasiel with his hand curled into the back of the other's shirt as he watched his twin sift through their clothing in order to find clean sleeping pants. His frown widened when Rasiel lifted a pair of plain blue sleeping pants into the air, and he couldn't help but whine and hide behind his brother; he didn't like those pants because they weren't stripy. "Siel, no…!"

Rasiel sighed. He lifted his hand to rub the sleep from his eyes, too tired to deal with this right now; he had already gone to bed late as it was, and he didn't want to be doing this while the sun had barely risen. But he had to; his brother didn't have anyone else to look after him, and Bel needed him. "It's only sleeping pants, Belphegor; come on. Put them on."

Bel whined again, but he eventually did as he was instructed. He kicked off his soiled pants and stood still so that Rasiel could slide clean one over his legs. The older twin couldn't help but lick his lips as his eyes wandered over the younger's pale legs; he knew it was so wrong of him, but all too often had he laid in bed and fantasized about Bel.

The smaller teen gave a pleased shudder when he felt Rasiel's hand ghost along his thigh. He pressed closer for more, but he didn't get the caresses he was used to; instead, his right leg was lifted into the air so that his brother could slip his leg into his pants.

Rasiel was tired, and he wasn't in the mood for playing with Bel; he wanted to get back to sleep, so he quickly dressed the other and then led him back into bed. He made sure to lay in between his brother and the wet patch so that Bel wasn't rolling in it during the morning; that was the last thing either of them needed. He wrapped his arms tight around the younger and held him against his chest as he always did; holding Bel like this was the closest he had been able to get in coaxing his brother into intimacy.

While Bel had drifted off to sleep quickly, Rasiel had only just started reaching oblivion before they were startled back into waking consciousness by a scream and a gunshot from the apartment next to theirs.

"S-siel!" Bel hid his face against Rasiel's chest as his small fingers clutched the other's clothing tightly. He cried quietly, too worked up to hear his brother trying to soothe him; he was exhausted, and his emotional state was too chaotic for him to have much control over himself.

"It's okay, Bel. It's okay. Don't cry." Rasiel himself was scared, knowing how bad the part of town they lived in was, and that it was only too likely for someone to break through their front door and shoot them, too – but for Bel's sake, he had to do his best to keep the boy calm because stress wasn't good at all for his twin's mental state. He leant across the bed so that he could get his phone off the nightstand and call the police with hopes that they would get here before another gunshot sounded.

But before the older twin could even finish his phone call, he was startled by the sound of the doorknob on their front door being jingled. He swallowed heavily before he whispered into the phone, "They're at my door…"

Rasiel got off the bed and guided his brother over to the closet. "It's alright, Bel; it's going to be alright. Don't cry; we need to stay quiet. The police will be here soon."

The taller male could have sworn that the second he closed the closet door, the front door was forced open. He put his hand over Bel's mouth to try and stifle the other's sounds, but he was sure his own heavy breathing would be what really gave them away. He felt sick as footsteps walked through his home, and it felt like an eternity had passed before they finally entered the bedroom. The intruder stopped in the middle of the room and didn't move for several seconds. Rasiel pressed harder against Bel's mouth to keep him quiet, but as he had suspected, it was useless; the stranger had turned to look at the closet and begun to walk towards it.

Rasiel unashamedly started to tremble as he pulled his brother into his hold. He flinched when a hand reached out to open the closet door, and he swore he was going to be sick. His brother was already crying, and he knew there was no point in trying to silence the other now; all he could do was hold Bel close and hope it would be over soon.

But then, as soon as it had started, it was over when the wailing of sirens became louder and the intruder fled. Rasiel could have cried in relief; they had narrowly escaped what surely would have been death by the hairs on their skin.

It was nights like these Rasiel felt the loneliness that ate away at the back of his mind. He missed the safety and warmth their parents had once provided, and he knew it was their fault they were gone, and that his brother was the way he was. He had been a stupid child, and at eight-years-old he should have known better than to fling a knife at a brother just because he was mad at Bel for eating his cupcake. If he hadn't thrown that knife, their parents would never have needed to get into the car that day to take Bel to a hospital. They would never have had that horrific car smash that had killed their parents and left Bel with brain injuries. He wouldn't be here tonight, hiding with Bel in the closet of a run-down apartment in a neighborhood where violence was a daily occurrence because they couldn't afford to live anywhere else.

They could have still lived in their old mansion in the nice part of town with their loving parents, but Rasiel had ruined it all because he had lost his temper and done a stupid thing he regretted every day of his life.

Rasiel dropped his face into Bel's hair. He squeezed his eyes shut tight and lowered his hand beneath the younger's sleeping shirt to put his hand over the scars he had caused with that knife. He whispered, "I'm sorry, Bel… I love you…"

Every time Bel remained silent at these words, Rasiel had to wonder; did Bel hate him for everything he had caused? If he did, the older twin couldn't blame him; he hated himself for it all, too.