Author's Note: Another drabble that's more of a plot cul-de-sac than anything. See, the whole point of the painfully epic saga Megan and I have created around the Spencers is that they're horrible people- drug dealers, hitmen, pimps- but they're a family, and despite everything else, they love each other more than anything else. It's because of that love- and because of their own fatal flaws- that they're destroyed. And despite the fact that they're horrible people, by the end of the story it's still a tragedy to watch them all get killed. I don't know if any of the other characters in TWE would be able to see past the gang to see the family, but I wanted a moment to acknowledge the family Trick lost, instead of the gang.

Incidentally, I think the last two lines of this drabble rank among some of the saddest things I've ever written.

Images: http:/ www. mrjimbeach. com/ wp- content/ uploads/ 2010/ 06/ Angel- Crying- Headstone. jpg
Pairing: Brick, Trick/Tony/Family.
Warnings: Mild angst, necromantic ritual.
Disclaimer: None.
Genre: Family.
Word Count: 500.
Song: Loss, Blast.

XXX

"I want to show you something," Trick said to Bri one evening, taking her hand and drawing her into his office, where Tony was waiting.

Brixton looked around curiously. While she knew what Trick's gift entailed, she had never seen him truly demonstrate his power. What he did on the sideshow was child's play, he said; simply acting as a mouthpiece for the dead. To contact them, to part the Veil and interact with them directly; that was closer to the truth of his gifts as Abhorsen.

She remained quiet, sitting with Tony as Trick drew them within his circle of crystals and began the ritual that would open the Veil. As she waited, she wondered; why did Trick want to show her the realm of Death? Did he think it would be comforting for her to see what awaited them?

Then the Veil fell, and Brixton gasped to see figures standing before them.

They looked completely solid, even though Brixton knew she couldn't touch them. The only thing that marked them as dead was the fact that their forms were leached of color, almost to the point of being black and white. It was wrong to see them like this; from all the stories Brixton had heard about the Spencer family they should have been pulsing with vibrant Technicolor.

"Bri, this is my family," Trick said, his heart in his eyes. "I wanted you to meet them."

Brixton swallowed hard, blinking back tears. She knew how much this meant to Trick, knew how he constantly yearned to have his family back, to have their opinions and their approval.

"So, this is Brixton," the tall, muscular one- Max, she remembered- said, folding his arms.
"Yeah, this is her," Trick smiled, linking his hand with hers.
"Are you taking care of the little shit for us, Brixton?" the angular, intense one who could only be Christian asked, eyes narrowing slightly.
"Chris," Trick hissed, wrapping an arm around Bri protectively. "Be nice."
"I'm trying," she answered honestly, somewhat intimidated.

It didn't matter if he was dead, this had been an incredibly powerful man in life, and that vitality was a part of him still.

"He doesn't make it easy on me."

At that, Christian barked out a laugh, and Bri understood why everyone had loved him, despite themselves.

"He does that," Christian nodded, approval in his gaze.

Trick kept the Veil open for a while longer. Brixton remained quiet, watching Trick flower under the love and approval of his brothers, watching Tony come more alive than she had ever seen as he talked quietly with Christian. Her heart ached as she watched them all, mourning this family who had been ripped apart before their time, but who refused to let death separate them.

"Someday," Max said, just before Trick closed the Veil.

A silent promise, she knew, and a reminder.

She drew a shaky breath, laying her head on his shoulder. "Thank you," she whispered. "They're wonderful."
"Yeah," Trick nodded. "They were."