This is looooong one folks. The longest chapter in the whole story, would you believe. Hope you enjoy it. :)
Rowan stood on the tarmac, leaning on the cane he'd been using in his rehabilitation, hating the fact he needed one. His gut twisted uncomfortably as the jet came to a stop in front of their small gathering, and he let out a slow breath to steady his nerves.
He was not looking forward to this.
But, he'd volunteered to do it, so he had to suck it up.
The Colonel gave him a slap on the arm and stepped forward to meet the disembarking group. Rowan hung back, and glanced at the man in front, before looking back down at his hand, the knuckles white as he grasped the head of the cane.
Dammit, just look at him.
Releasing a sigh, he raised his head again, catching Joshua's quick glance his way, before the man, flanked by two of his own soldiers, stepped forward to grasp the Colonel's offered hand.
The handshake was short and stiffly formal, and both men walked back from it with haste, neither being too comfortable with the contact. The Colonel shared a few words that Joshua nodded to and Rowan didn't hear, pointed to a few soldiers, then gestured towards Rowan, who stood as tall as he could as he met the man's gaze.
Joshua looked over him quickly, noting the cane, then glanced away, his gaze sweeping between the two soldiers beside Rowan. Then the man walked over while talking briefly to the soldier on his right, who Rowan didn't recognize.
Rowan didn't say anything as Joshua approached. There wasn't anything he could really think to say.
Joshua stopped in front of them and nodded towards the Hummer parked nearby, not meeting Rowan's eye.
"That our transport?"
Rowan tried not to sigh and failed, then nodded, then realized Joshua wasn't looking at him so he to needed to speak up.
"Yeah, I'm going to dr-"
Joshua had already walked away, signalling to his men to follow.
With a sharp look at the Colonel, Rowan gritted his teeth and took his steps, slowly and carefully, towards the vehicle.
Joshua had already climbed inside and was looking away, towards the far terminal - something Rowan was thankful for as it meant the man couldn't see him working so hard just to walk.
It'd been a tough month and a half. The coma had left him with very little muscle strength, and some frustrating learning difficulties. He'd had to build up the strength to use his legs again, and had only started walking on his own a week ago. Trying to concentrate on anything for a long period of time, even something as simple as playing the guitar, left him irritable, with a headache only the strongest painkiller could touch. It'd been hard. And it'd been even harder on Julie, who'd had to shoulder raising their baby while he was stuck in hospital.
They were doing alright now though, and he threw himself at every diaper change and middle-of-the-night comforting he could, to try and make up for it.
Hope had started smiling in earnest and making all sorts of noises, adding her own hilarious harmonies to his songs, even mimicking his popping fish sounds when he gave her baths. She was moving more, responding to them more, and growing more beautiful every day.
He adored her. When the physical crap got him down, all he had to do was think of her popping away in the bathtub to turn his mood around. Thinking about her at all did the trick actually, the popping was just a bonus.
Smiling with the memory as he reached the Hummer, Rowan slowly clambered inside, acutely aware of Joshua watching his struggles.
But the man never said anything. He just crossed his arms over his chest and stared out over the city as they drove.
As they neared the spot, Rowan's stomach twisted into even more fascinating knots, and he had to consciously stop himself from wringing the life from the steering wheel. Joshua glanced his way a couple of times during the trip, but kept to himself mostly, save for the time he pointed out the football stadium to his men. One of the Colonel's soldiers piped up in answer, and suddenly they were all talking in earnest about the game, the outsiders absolutely fascinated by the plays the soldier started to share. The guy had been at the final Superbowl, hosted by their city only a few months before playing football became the absolute last thing on anyone's mind.
Rowan learned a lot then, about Joshua's experience of the game. They didn't have a TV in town to watch, 'cept when Joshua was really young, but they read the heck out of some magazines, and snuck out a few times to catch a couple of games through their closest neighbor's window. They'd pieced together what they could of the rules from what they'd read and seen, but it was an eye opener to see something so huge, like a temple almost, dedicated to it.
"We'd always make it back before Dad got too wild on us," Joshua added, his mouth curled up in the slightest of smiles. "Caleb always seemed to know..."
The smile disappeared, and Joshua never finished the sentence, returning to gaze out at the passing buildings and streets.
Rowan sighed again, and kicked himself mentally for doing so.
After a sharp turn off the main street, they finally reached the spot, and Rowan pulled up to the curb just opposite the alleyway.
His stomach was doing cartwheels now. Why the hell had he offered to do this? What was he thinking? How was this going to be good for anybody?
The Colonel had been keen, of course. Accepting the request had been a good diplomatic move, a way to add yet another settlement with some substantial firepower - one that had experienced a revolution of sorts - to his fold. And the Colonel hadn't demanded Rowan play along either. The man had given him an out - all Rowan had to do was show John where it'd been, and if it wasn't in a spot that'd been cleared, they'd handle the remains and the exchange without any need for contact between the two of them.
But something drove Rowan to do this personally. A sense of responsibility, of culpability. But not of guilt. He was done with that.
And man was he kicking himself for being so damn responsible now.
It took him too long to get out of the car - Joshua was already standing at the mouth of the alleyway, his pose stiff, his gaze set down its length. His soldiers were hanging back at the car, and as Rowan shuffled his way forward, he smiled at the Colonel's men and gestured back towards the Hummer.
"I got this," he said, turning back towards Joshua.
"Sir, our orders were to-"
Rowan turned back to smirk at the soldier who'd spoken. "Seriously, stop calling me sir. I'm fine. We'll be fine."
The man, a heavy set soldier with deep brown skin and bold eyes, stared at him a moment longer, stared at Joshua even longer, then nodded and stepped back to the group.
Rowan finally reached Joshua, who did not turn to look at him, but stared at the opening, taking in its size. His gaze lighted briefly on the garbage cans and dumpster about half way down, across from two doors set in the brick wall of what used to be a restaurant.
Following his gaze, Rowan was surprised to see that the alleyway was basically spotless. Completely trash free. The bins were empty, and looked almost new.
Jesus, did they mop?
It shouldn't have struck him as funny but it did, and he immediately felt like shit.
"Where'd he come from?"
Joshua's voice bounced back oddly from the opening, and Rowan glanced at him, momentarily confused.
"What?"
"Caleb," Joshua said shortly. "Where'd he run here from?"
"Oh. Um."
Rowan scrambled to bring up any memories that might help him answer that question, but he had no help from Caleb's side, all of that was long gone. His memories as a corpse weren't much help either, slippery and fragmented as they were.
"I don't know," he said finally. "He was trying to get out when I came in."
Joshua let out a tense breath, and Rowan caught the man glancing at him out of the corner of his eye.
"Show me everything. Tell me everything. Every moment."
Aww fuck.
"Joshua, I don't se-"
"Please," Joshua said quickly, in an oddly broken voice.
Rowan swallowed, feeling suddenly terribly sad, but he nodded, and took a few shuffling steps in.
"I smelled him," he said quietly. "I came in, and he was just coming from that door." He pointed to the one on the right, tagged with some kid's name who was probably long since dead. "I think he'd just tried to open it."
"Why didn't he just run past you?" Joshua asked faintly, from behind him.
Rowan drew in a deep breath. "He was shocked, like I'd taken him by surprise. Didn't seem to know what to do for a moment, looked all around, maybe for a weapon, I don't know, but I got closer."
He closed his eyes, reliving the scene. God, he didn't want to do this. Go through this again. Everything else had faded so comfortably into the background, he'd been free for the first time since it'd all started and it'd felt so good.
"And?"
Slowly opening his eyes, Rowan looked at the space where Caleb had been, and saw the man again in his minds eye - the shocked expression, the growing panic, and the sloppy lunge he'd made to get past.
"He tried to get past me," he said flatly. "I grabbed him."
"And?" Joshua said hoarsely.
Rowan turned to look at him. "And I killed him. Here." He pointed to the ground to his right.
They'd obviously tried to remove the stain, but it had stubbornly clung to the concrete. A diminished patch of variegated browns spread in a wide, ugly pool at the spot.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, staring down at it. Jesus, he'd left a big mess. The Colonel said they'd cleared this sector almost a year ago, and the body had been carefully removed and cremated, the remains labeled with the address and stored. Caleb didn't have any ID on him, so it'd been yet another anonymous corpse until Joshua reached out.
"How?" Joshua asked. "Show me."
Rowan looked up at the soldier.
"What?"
"Show me how you killed him."
Joshua's face was impassive, his brow heavy in shadow.
Rowan shook his head. "No."
"Please," Joshua said quietly, still not looking at him.
"What is the point of this Joshua?" Rowan snapped. "What good does this do?! It doesn't help him!" He stabbed his finger down at the stain. "Doesn't help you! Sure as fuck doesn't help me!"
Joshua calmly lifted his sidearm, and pointed it at Rowan's chest.
"Show me."
Rowan sucked in a breath to yell out, but Joshua cocked the handgun and tilted it at him.
"You yell, your men die. You die."
Rowan's mouth dried to dust as he glanced over Joshua's shoulder and saw the Colonel's men standing, unarmed, covered by Joshua's soldiers.
Oh shit.
"Joshua, what the hell are you doing?" Rowan asked, as his chest grew tight with fear.
"I'm asking you to show me exactly how you killed my brother," the man answered evenly.
The gun didn't waver, and Rowan felt a target on his chest like it was burning.
"Are you going to kill me Joshua?" Rowan said, as calmly as he could. "You just going to execute me over the spot where your brother died?"
Joshua sighed. "I might be some years too late, but that's better than never, right?"
Oh FUCK.
"Joshua, don't do this," Rowan said quickly, "You'll never make it out of the city. You'll be leaving your community leaderless."
The man shrugged. "I made arrangements before I left, just in case. Morrissey will take my place."
Rowan's heart started to pound in his chest, and he searched frantically for something to say, to appeal to Joshua's sense.
"Morrissey's a prick, Joshua," he stammered, "That's a bad choice." Getting a little frantic, he glanced around the alley, trying to find anything that might help him get out of this alive, but the place was too clean. There was nothing he could use but the fucking cane that was holding him upright!
Shit!
Joshua was smirking. "Yeah. Yeah he is. Good head for strategy though, and knows the strengths of his men. He'll do."
"Jesus Christ Joshua, I have a child, you can't-"
Joshua leveled the gun at his head. "STOP wasting my time and SHOW ME how he died!"
Rowan let out a ragged breath and stared at Joshua for a moment before nodding.
"Okay... okay."
He searched back through slippery grey memory again and sought to find the moment once more, but it was hard - the gun pointed at his skull was no small distraction.
Images of Julie and Hope kept intruding, and his eyes got a lot more damp than he'd meant them to.
But finally he reached it, and he was back there again, and Caleb was trying to run past him, and he snatched an arm out - no longer grey, but flush with life, and grasped thin air.
"I grabbed his arm, and-"
"Which one?"
Rowan glared at him. "His left, he was running that way," he pointed, " He was facing the exit, I wasn't."
"Go on," Joshua prodded, then he shook his head, "No, wait, better if you show using me." He walked over then, to the dumpster, and laid his gun on it before signalling to his men.
"Going to get physical! Keep them covered, ignore us!" He yelled, then turned back to Rowan who was watching him in confusion.
"Using you?" Rowan asked, frowning.
Joshua nodded, and stepped close to him. Then he took Rowan's hand and pressed it against his upper arm.
"Do to me what you did to him."
Rowan looked at him skew eyed. "You want me to tear your throat out, bash your head against the ground and eat your brains?" He laughed, the sound a little strained. "Tempting, but brain's been off the menu fo-"
One moment he was talking, the next he was lying on the ground, staring up at Joshua with a splitting headache, having smacked his skull against the concrete.
"Oww," he muttered, cradling his head. "Dammit Josh."
Joshua kicked him. It wasn't hard enough to do any damage, but it sure as hell hurt.
"You don't get to call me that Rowan," the man said in a low, dangerous voice, "you got that?"
Rowan glared at him as he got up on his elbows. "Can I have my cane back?"
Joshua picked it up from where he'd kicked it, and held it out to him. "Now show me."
Rowan snatched it away. "Fine."
It took him a while to rise, but eventually he was back on unsteady legs again, and nursing the growing bump on the back of his head.
Then he tried to pull Joshua into the right spot. Wasn't easy while leaning on a cane.
"Okay, he was where you are, I was here. I grabbed him on the arm." Rowan wrapped his fingers around Joshua's upper arm and tried to crush it... didn't work, and Joshua just stared at his hand with the slightest smirk.
"Then what happened?" Joshua asked.
Rowan sighed. "Getting to that." He closed his eyes and tried to settle back into his old headspace again. It was a lot easier when he was grabbing something for real.
But the images turned bloody, and Rowan scowled, not wanting to be here again.
But if Joshua wanted it, he was going to get it.
Rowan opened his eyes and felt his muscles hit the memory. Immediately he yanked Joshua over, and his other arm wrapped around the guy's skull, wrenching his head to one side to expose Joshua's throat. He struck-
Or at least, would have, if Joshua hadn't punched him sharply in the gut.
Rowan doubled over Joshua's fist and fell back onto the concrete, curling up as he tried to breathe.
"Why didn't Caleb do that?" Joshua muttered, frowning down at him.
Sucking in a breath, Rowan shook his head and tried to speak. "W..wouldn't... work," he gasped, then rolled around his stomach again. "Fuck Joshua... how'm I s'posed.. to show.."
"Sorry." Joshua sighed, and reached down to help him up. "Reflex."
Rowan swatted his hand away and glared up at him. "If you're going to shoot me.. asshole, just do it. I'm not playing your stupid game.. anymore."
Joshua shrugged. "Okay." Then he walked over to pick the handgun off the dumpster. "I can honestly say you're the first guy I've ever shot in the head twice."
Rowan's heart stuttered. Jesus Christ, the guy was really going to do it. His mind raced again, finding no options for escape, and flicking repeatedly to Hope's face - her smiles up at him as he changed her, her features soft in sleep as she lay in Julie's arms...
He couldn't leave her without a father. This couldn't happen.
Quickly, he raised his hands, as Joshua drew level with the gun.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that, I'll show you everything you need to see, I promise," he stammered quickly, trying to hold the man's gaze, "Please give me another chance... please."
Joshua said nothing for a moment and would not meet his stare. Then he shrugged, and tucked the gun in his holster.
"Continue," he said flatly, and stood back where Rowan had last held him.
Feeling a rush of relief, Rowan allowed himself to breathe, and slowly, painfully pulled himself up again. Then he pointed at Joshua's throat.
"I bit him, and he-"
"Where?"
"Joshua, this going to take all day and night if you keep interrupting me."
Joshua stared over his left shoulder coolly. "Going to take even longer if you keep complaining about it."
Rowan glared at Joshua, and the soldier clearly did not care, or meet his gaze, so he sighed, and pressed his finger against the man's throat.
"Here," he sighed again, hating what he was about to say, "I tore out his jugular and some muscle. A lot of dead do.. did.. it. You get meat, and they stop fighting quick."
Joshua's face betrayed a cascade of emotion, a quick flickering of shock, anger, and sadness, and Rowan looked down, dropping his hand.
"I'm sorry," he whispered again, his voice terribly faint.
"What'd he do?" Joshua asked, after clearing his throat.
"When I pulled away," Rowan continued, "he staggered back a few steps, still screaming, holding where I'd bitten him, then..."
Rowan stopped, seeing too clearly Caleb's face in his memories - twisted with the absolute horror of knowing he was about to die.
"Fuck," he whispered to himself.
"What then, you bastard," Joshua growled.
"He fell... there," Rowan said quietly, his face twisted in sadness and regret, his hand trembling as he pointed at the stain. "And I fell on top of him, and I..."
He couldn't continue, and looked up at Joshua in anguish.
The man's eyes were livid. "And you..."
"I'm sorry Joshua," Rowan squeezed through a throat now thick with tears. "I'm so fucking sorry."
"And you ate him," Joshua growled. "Alive."
"Yes," Rowan whispered, as a tear fell down his face.
"You shattered his head against the pavement, and you ate what was inside."
Rowan nodded, no longer able to speak.
Suddenly, his legs were crumpling underneath him as Joshua knocked his cane out again, and he landed hard on the cold pavement, his wrist bending awkwardly as he tried to stop his fall.
"Ow... fuck," he groaned, grabbing his wrist before rolling onto his back, trying to get his eyes on Joshua again.
"That's perfect," Joshua whispered, and he pulled the gun from his side.
Eyes bulging, Rowan tried to back away on his elbows, but Joshua snapped the gun up level with his head.
"No, stay right there. Right where it happened," Joshua said. Then he sighed. "Please."
Rowan looked at the concrete he was lying on, and his heart sank in his chest. The stain spread around him like a dirty pool.
"Joshua, please," Rowan said, his voice breaking, his hand raised defensively, "Please don't do this... I know I took your brother's life, but I wasn't in control!"
"I know."
"Then what's shooting me going to fix?" Rowan cried, "It's not going to bring Caleb back!"
Joshua's expression grew terribly resigned. "No, it won't." The gun lowered slightly.
The soldier turned then, towards the mouth of the alleyway, and nodded at his men standing guard over the Colonel's soldiers. Rowan followed his gaze, then snapped back to Joshua as the man stood quietly looking down at him, the gun still in his hand.
"Please forgive me Joshua," Rowan said in a strained voice, "It's the only way you'll get any peace. Shooting me won't do it."
Joshua released a heavy sigh, as his face grew sadder still. "No, it won't." His mouth curled in a bitter smile. "I forgive you Rowan. Thing is... I don't forgive myself. Never should've let my brother go. Never should've let dad hurt him so bad. I'm here to make amends, and your men will make sure I get some real peace."
There was a sound, from the alley opening, and Rowan looked over, his mind running over what Joshua had said. My men? What?
The Colonel's men had somehow regained their weapons, and had forced Joshua's soldiers on their knees. Only then did the one who'd insisted on coming with Rowan turn and raise his rifle at Joshua.
"DROP IT! RIGHT NOW!" he yelled, glaring from under a gnarled brow.
Rowan's gaze flicked back to Joshua, as the man gave him a small, sincere smile.
"I want to thank you for bringing my brother back to me," he said quietly. "It was a hard time, but a gift I'm grateful for."
"Joshua, what-"
The soldier roared again, cocking his rifle, "DROP THE GUN OR I WILL SHOOT!"
Rowan spun, flinging his hand up at the soldier, "No! Don't!"
"Goodbye Rowan," Joshua sighed, and he purposely shifted forward, exposing his chest towards the entrance, and jerked the gun towards Rowan's head.
Rowan didn't think - consumed in a terrible panic, he somehow found his legs beneath him and launched himself up, slamming into Joshua as the crack of a rifle echoed through the alleyway.
Something hot smacked him hard in the shoulder, spinning him around as they both fell to the ground. Grunting against the sting, he flailed for Joshua's gun and wrapped his good hand around it, ripping it from the soldier's grasp.
"Don't shoot him!" he roared out, as the heavy thunk of boots echoed towards them. "Don't hurt him!"
With a pained gasp, he tossed the gun down the alleyway, where it skittered under the dumpster and out of sight. Then he twisted back, needing to keep Joshua in view, to make sure the man was safe and wouldn't do anything even more stupid.
"Dumbass!" Rowan yelled, as Joshua, eyes fixed in shock on him, was pulled to his knees by the Colonel's men, "You think Caleb would want this?" he cried, the words spilling from him in an angry rush. "You were the most important thing in his life, you fucking idiot! He wanted you to live! He wanted you to be happy!"
He winced then, clutching at the wound, and blood ran warm over his fingers. "Fuck! Everybody stop shooting me! I'm done with being shot!"
"Wasn't going to shoot you... gun wasn't even loaded," Joshua muttered, as the soldier cuffed him roughly and brought up a comm.
"Incident at retrieval site, one shot," the soldier gave Rowan's shoulder a quick look over then continued, "Flesh wound. Area secured."
Rowan looked up at the man indignantly, "Doesn't feel like a flesh wound," he mumbled, and shifted his hand. "Ow."
"You took that bullet for me," Joshua said quietly, staring at him as the soldier headed to the dumpster for Joshua's gun, answering his comm as he walked.
Rowan made an annoyed noise, "Didn't really take it," he grumbled, "I just gave it a high five as it passed."
Joshua laughed, and Rowan looked up at him in surprise - the sound was bright and real.
Then the man gave a heavy breath. "I'm sorry I scared you. But I figured a little fear where my brother felt the worst fear was fitting." He grew quiet then, and when he raised his head once more, his eyes were red. He tilted his head towards the opening. "My men looking this way?"
Glowering, Rowan looked, then turned back and shook his head.
Joshua crumpled, bending awkwardly with his hands behind his back, as his face scrunched up.
And he started to cry.
Rowan blinked, and the anger eased from his face as he watched the man, stunned.
"Joshua.. I..." he whispered, and the words fell away from him as Joshua's tears grew deeper. The hurt pouring from the guy was palpable, and Rowan couldn't help himself. Shuffling awkwardly, he maneuvered next to him, and lay his bloodstained hand tentatively against the man's shoulder.
The soldier stiffened, and blue eyes turned his way, tight with grief.
"Don't.. touch me," Joshua whispered, lowering his head again.
Rowan lifted his hand, returning it to the wound on his shoulder. The bleeding had slowed a little, but it still stung.
He sighed, and tried to remember something from the moment before he'd broken the wall. Something Caleb had wanted him to pass on. And it came to him, word for word.
"Caleb wanted me to tell you something," he said, and felt Joshua still beside him. "So what I'm saying now, it's from him. Not me." Taking a deep breath, he let Caleb's words fall from his lips, trying to say them as he would to Brandon, and they echoed oddly from the alley wall, over the mottled bloodstain on the floor. "I love you brother. It was real good to be with you again. To laugh with you again."
Joshua gave a choked cry beside him, and Rowan looked down to find those eyes fixed on him, wide with disbelief.
Rowan couldn't look at him for the next words, because they weren't really his, but he still said them as sincerely as he could. "You might be the eldest Joshua, but this time I get to go first." Caleb's smile came to him then, and he tried to echo it, as Joshua's eyes squeezed in tears again and he cried in earnest, his sobs hard, the sound almost punching through the air around them. "And I will be watching over you... always."
Then he let out a slow breath, and he pressed his hand against Joshua's shoulder, and this time the soldier leaned into him and Rowan held him as he cried.
And he thought about Brandon.
The moment in the hospital had obviously really hurt his brother, because they'd only had stiff conversations since then, and Brandon's visits during his rehabilitation were sporadic and short.
And Rowan still didn't understand why it had hurt his brother so badly, not when it was all back to normal now. His dad couldn't explain it either, Brandon had just shrugged it all off.
His gaze fell to the bloodstain. To the remnant of Caleb. Joshua's brother was just a stain on the ground, and dust in a box now.
Rowan's heart clenched, and he jerked up suddenly, needing to stand. Everything was fine for a minute, until something twitched that shouldn't have, and he ended up stumbling, practically falling on top of Joshua as his legs shook beneath him.
A soldier appeared quickly, handing him back his cane and giving him a steadying arm. As Rowan started his laborious walk, another car pulled up beside the Hummer just outside the alleyway, and more soldiers spilled out.
The Colonel emerged then, and strode quickly to Rowan's side, quickly taking in the bullet wound.
"I need a medic here," John snapped back at his men, then he glared at Joshua, who was still kneeling, head lowered. Glancing up at the big soldier standing nearby, he nodded to the gun in the man's hand. "That his?"
"Yes sir," the soldier answered, sliding the chamber back before freeing the mag. "Empty as he said."
The Colonel sighed, staring back at Joshua. "What the hell were you thinking, boy?"
Joshua glared up at John, and Rowan had the distinct impression it was for calling him 'boy'. The thought brought a smile to Rowan's face, but he quickly sobered, and reached out his good arm to the Colonel.
"I'm not pressing charges," he said, and winced, retracting his arm to hold the wound again as the medic appeared at his side. "You should let him go."
"Oh, you're not pressing charges?" the Colonel echoed sarcastically. Glowering down at Joshua again, he nodded at his soldier to pull the man to his feet. "I sure as hell am. You don't come into my town, boy, try and shoot my people."
"Um, technically sir, they weren't shooting anybody," another soldier said, stepping forward with one of the visiting men's rifles. "None of their weapons were loaded."
"Thank you.. Gimmel.." the Colonel said with a sigh. Shaking his head, he approached Joshua. "What was your game plan here? Were you trying to get yourselves killed?"
"Colonel, th-ow!" Rowan snapped, raising an eyebrow at the medic treating him.
"Sorry, but you keep moving," the woman said defensively.
When he turned back everyone was looking at him. "Sir," he started, wanting to keep on John's good side. "The situation's been resolved peacefully, and-"
"You were shot, son."
"By your own man," Rowan offered back.
"Because you got in the way," the big soldier blustered, then stepped back as the Colonel shot him a look.
Rowan tried to continue, "They had no intention of hurting us-"
"My jaw's bruised," the other armed escort said suddenly, holding his mouth. "Think I'm about to lose a tooth."
Everyone turned to stare at the man, and he slowly lowered his head. "Sorry."
When the Colonel turned back to Rowan, his expression was pained.
"Your point, Rowan."
"My point is that Joshua needs to go home to his people," Rowan replied, holding John's gaze. "He's their leader, and they're the only family he has left. What he did here," he threw his hand sloppily at the alleyway, "ow.. wasn't aimed at us. Wasn't aimed at me. He was aiming at himself."
The Colonel's brow drew inward, then back sharply, and Rowan knew the man had finally realized what Joshua had been trying to do. Joshua's own soldiers looked a little surprised as well, and Rowan wondered just how much they knew about their leader's real plan.
John turned to the soldier, and while Rowan couldn't see the Colonel's face, he could hear a heavy emotion clear in the man's voice. Something choked and regretful. "You stupid kid, why'd you.." He shook his head, and he stepped closer, clasping his hand on the man's shoulder. Joshua looked up at him darkly, and the Colonel sighed. "I'm sorry son. My words are harsher than they should be."
Jaws dropped around the entire group, and Joshua looked like he'd been slapped with a fish.
"Son." John said quietly. "That's not the way. There are people counting on you. You're needed. Never forget that." He glanced at Joshua's soldiers and back. "The fact that your men were willing to support you here, shows just how much weight you carry. How much respect you've earned. You do not throw something like that away, no matter what." He sighed, the sound heavy with regret. "You never give up. Not on them, and not on yourself. You understand me?"
Joshua stared at him hard for a moment, but slowly his eyes eased, and he nodded.
"Okay," the Colonel said, and gestured for the big soldier. "Uncuff him, give him his brother's remains, and get him back to the airport. Call ahead to get Dale on prep."
"Yes sir," the man replied, nodding to the Colonel. Then his eyes sought Rowan, darting briefly to the shoulder wound. "Sorry about that sir."
Rowan shrugged painfully. "Ow.. It's okay. Stop calling me sir."
Joshua kept his gaze lowered as the soldier released him, then he shook his head. "This is not how I thought today would go," he said quietly, his voice a little small and lost. "I don't know what to do now."
The Colonel slapped him on the back. "Go home, apologize for roping your men into this, and do something in honor of your brother."
Joshua looked up at him, then shrugged.
"Guess it's time to get drunk."
"If that's your way," John said, and his voice took on a stern tone. "Here of course, we don't allow alcohol, but we-"
"That's a travesty right there," Joshua said over him, glancing around at the group. "I feel sorry for the men under your command."
"And the women," the medic behind Rowan muttered under her breath.
"Excuse me?!" John said, clearly offended.
"A man wants to have a drink with his friends, or after a hard day, he should be able to," Joshua said bluntly, and crossed his arms across his chest as he faced the Colonel.
"Or a woman," the medic offered again, this time loud enough for everyone to hear, as she put the last bit of tape in place on the bandage over Rowan's shoulder.
Joshua glanced over at her. "Drinking is a man's business."
"Excuse me?" the medic answered, her voice rising.
"Now just a minute," the Colonel growled, turning from her to Joshua, "I restrict alcohol for the safety of my community, it's-"
"What did you just say?!" the medic snapped, and Rowan at that point realized things were about to get ugly.
He discretely shuffled towards the mouth of the alleyway, as the Colonel started to hear from his other soldiers - voices raised tentatively, helpfully, suggesting that surely a drink every once in a while, in moderation of course, wouldn't pose a threat to the security of a rebuilding nation.
Alleyway cleared, Rowan walked slowly, awkwardly, wincing as his shoulder complained mightily about the movement, and finally reached the Hummer. The keys were in the ignition where he left them, and he slid into the seat, glancing back at the crowd in the alleyway. The Colonel looked a little harangued, and Joshua was standing stiffly, arms crossed defensively, as the medic gestured violently at his face, her features flared in indignation.
Rowan smiled. He'll be okay.
Nodding at the thought, he struggled to turn the steering wheel as he put the vehicle in gear and pulled from the curve. His shoulder was stinging, and made everything hard, but he managed to take the exit ramp for the interstate they'd cleared out of the city, and headed towards the industrial center. Once he pulled off the interstate and through the main outer gates of the power plant though, he was lost.
The place was huge. He could see the main towers thrusting up towards the sky from a nest of buildings, and it was bizarre, the smoke stacks were completely inert, the sky above them clear.
Rowan smiled. One nice side effect of the apocalypse. Clear skies.
Overgrown cracked roads too, but the Hummer didn't complain. Not like the convertible.
He bounced up to the guard gate and poked his head out, asking for Brandon. The soldier pointed him towards the bank of transformers off the side of the main cluster of buildings, adjacent to a wide stretch of open land. He could see people there working out in the open, laying and wiring panels up to the transformer grid, and that's where he headed.
It didn't take him long to find Brandon, but it took forever to reach him, thanks to the fact that the road didn't extend between the rows of panels. Abandoning the Hummer, he took his slow and steady way out to his brother, who was bent over one of the them, hooking up some wiring from a long cable snaked down the entire row.
By the time he'd reached Brandon, he was sweating, and his shoulder was livid. It was warm out in the open, and the sun was bouncing blindingly off the clear panel coverings as if they were mirrors.
"This is cool," he said, coming to a stop behind Brandon as he took in the whole field.
His brother jerked up and blinked at him in surprise, sweat glistening on his forehead.
"Oh hey! Didn't know it was you," Brandon said. "Thought it was- Jesus Christ, Ro! Is that blood?!"
Rowan smirked. "I get mistaken for him all the time." When his brother didn't share the joke, he sighed. "Sorry, yeah, that's blood."
His brother dropped the tool he'd been using and reached out to the wound. "What the fuck happened to your shoulder?" His eyes grew huge. "Is that a gunshot wound?!"
Rowan rubbed his eyes and nodded. "Yep. Just a flesh wound though, so... hey, look, I came-"
"Just a flesh wound?!" Brandon yelped. "How the fuck did you get shot?! Who shot you?!" His brother frowned then, and something sharp crossed his eyes. Anger. "Wait, was it that guy you were seeing today? Did he do it?!"
Rowan shook his head. "No Bran, no. Listen, I wanted-"
"Holy shit Ro," Brandon growled. "I'll kill him."
"Brandon!" Rowan yelled.
Brandon jumped. "What?!"
"Shut up and listen!" Rowan snapped. "Please!"
His brother recoiled, his eyes growing tight with hurt.
"Shit!" Rowan cursed, and shook his head. "No, don't listen to me, sorry, I didn't mean to yell. I'm not feeling very good and it's been a really crappy day so far. To answer your question, one of the Colonel's soldiers shot me, accidentally, but... ignore that for now, I've got something to say."
Brandon crossed his arms over his chest and said nothing, he just frowned.
"I love you Bran," Rowan said.
His brother's arms dropped, and his eyes opened wide in surprise. "Uh..."
Rowan waved him quiet. "I know you're upset by what I did back in the hospital, but I don't know why you're still upset. Please tell me."
Immediately, his brother pulled the shutters down, and looked away, bending over to retrieve the tool he'd dropped.
"It's nothing," Brandon said, returning to his work with a shrug. "Forget about it."
"It's obviously something Bran," Rowan sighed. "Tell me."
"Nothing to tell."
Smirking, Rowan shook his head down at his brother. "I seem to recall this guy, who looked a lot like you, telling me that I needed to share. That I had to stop 'shutting him out'. Do you remember that guy?"
Brandon snorted.
Rowan continued, his voice weary. "I'm being shut out, and I hate it, and I just came away from a guy who tried to kill himself because he let his brother leave after a fight, after his brother had been hurt, and now he doesn't have a brother anymore."
Brandon grew quiet, and stopped working on the wiring, stabilizing himself with the tool he'd been holding, pressed into the dirt.
"We didn't fight," he said quietly.
"But you left hurt," Rowan answered back.
"Because you'd forgotten me," Brandon sighed. "You didn't know who I was."
"I knew who you were Bran, eventually. I just didn't believe it."
Brandon shrugged.
"You felt... forgotten?" Rowan asked, and something finally started to make sense.
Brandon started twisting the tool, gouging at the dirt.
"I'm busy Rowan," he said, his voice tense.
"You felt forgotten," Rowan said again, thinking out loud, ignoring his brother's attempts to avoid conversation. "Like... how you said Dad always seemed so focused on me, when I was dead, and couldn't see you. Like he'd forgotten you were there? It was like that again?"
Brandon finally stopped digging, and looked up at Rowan. He seemed surprised. "Well... yeah."
"Bran," Rowan whispered, and he sank awkwardly to the ground to sit in front of his brother. "Jesus, I'm sorry. My brain was a mess when I woke up, and... Dad was a little broken way back then bro. He was like an old record - he just kept skipping."
With a non-committal shrug, Brandon sank back on his feet. "I know that, that's why I didn't want to talk about it. It just hit a nerve, an old one. I dunno." Shrugging again, he fiddled with the tool in his lap, trying to clean the dirt out of the creases. "It was like... like I was invisible. Like I didn't matter again. Like it was just you and dad. Again. Really dumb, I know."
Brandon's voice was thick, as if the emotions were just skating underneath the words, threatening to spill.
Shit. Way to go, me.
"You matter Bran," Rowan said, as emphatically as he could, "You matter so much. To me, to dad, to Sarah..." Something hit him then, something really important, and he smiled. "Jesus, Bran... to everybody."
Brandon looked up from the pointless fiddling in his lap, and smirked. "Everybody?"
Rowan nodded. "Yeah."
"So, the entire world then?" Brandon sniped, the smirk listing. "Sure, that makes sense, absolutely."
Rowan grinned. "For real."
His brother snorted and glanced around the field, his gaze ping ponging between the other workers. "Uh huh." Then he smiled back at Rowan. "Thanks for talking to me Ro, it means a lot. And Jesus Christ, go to the hospital, get your shoulder looked at."
Rowan shook his head. "No way. Done with hospitals. Any time I step into one bad things happen, doctors get hurt. And you're not listening to me."
"About me being important to the entire world?" Brandon said with a snort. "You're right."
Grinning, Rowan stuck up a finger. Brandon looked at it, looked at him, and raised an eyebrow. "What's that for?"
"I'm about to illustrate a point. Follow the finger."
"Ro, seriously, I have to get back to work, these panels ain't gunna lay themselves." Brandon snorted again. "Lay themselves.. heh.."
"Bran, focus."
His brother sighed. "Fine. Illustrate away."
Rowan poked the air to his right. "Julie and I basically saved the world here, right?"
Brandon laughed. "Oh!" he cried, "Yes, I feel it now, my importance... it's so obvious! YOU saved the world Ro, good job."
Smirking, Rowan drew his finger back. "I fell in love with Julie because I was different, I was a thinking, feeling dead guy."
"You," Brandon said, pointing at him sharply, "Were a SNAC."
Rowan's train of thought was completely derailed. "I was a snack?"
"You were a SNAC - a Sensitive New Age Corpse. The importance Ro, it's really smacking me in the face here. What the hell are you talking about?!"
"Jesus Bran, just listen," Rowan sighed, and he drew his finger back, all the way to the left. "I was different from the very beginning. Why?"
Brandon snapped his fingers and looked up thoughtfully, "Wait, I know this one, just a sec, it's... it's... the size of your head, isn't it? Your gigantic cranium made you a supercorpse and now-"
"Because of the music, Bran," Rowan said, smiling gently.
"Uh..." Brandon frowned. "Huh?"
"Music made me different Bran. Right from the start. It pulled a little bit of me back, reconnected me to a piece of myself, after the dark had stripped everything away. I built on that, even after the music died. I found more connections to who I was, regained just a little more... humanity. And then I met Julie."
His brother stared at him, completely serious. "Oh." He tilted his head. "Ro, you never told me that before."
Rowan shrugged. "Didn't like talking about being dead. You know that."
"Yeah, I know," Brandon said quietly.
"Who gave me that music, Bran?" Rowan continued, his eyes fixed on his brother's suddenly evasive gaze. "Who went out of his way to bring me something I loved, and surround me with it, when I died?"
His brother's eyes finally met his, and they were fragile under a soaring brow.
"I did?" Brandon said in a small voice.
Rowan nodded, smiling. "You did."
"You saved the world Bran," he said, and his smile turned into a brilliant grin. "Good job."
