Aurora's Note: This was spawned from a short story I wrote about three of my own characters. It is partially inspired by Chocolate Obssessed Squirrel on a Sugar High's Abused Memories. Of course, the whole "deal" thing is Yazoo playing Solitaire. I was sitting playing it one day and I have this really particular way of doing it and it makes it almost impossible to win, so that's what I have Yazoo doing.
Sorry I haven't updated on my other stories, but I have writer's block for Convergence of Time, and I just felt like writing something sad and I don't want to give all you Babysitting fans anymore angst for a while. Flames will be used to help set Hojo's lab on fire. Reviews are strongly encouraged.
Deal
By Aurora M. Tepes
Deal.
It was always like this. Always would be. After a hard day. Kadaj would get angry and yell at them, Loz would cry and he…he would attempt to console his older brother and plead with the younger. Console with a word, plead with a look. It would work…and there would be silence. Kadaj would shut himself in a room and tear up its interior. Loz would go to his room before going, eventually, to cook dinner. He would sit down on the floor, get out a pack of cards, put his mind on autopilot and lose himself in the mindlessness of the task. The silence that was so oppressive in its stillness. Nothing but the sound of the crickets and cicadas outside pierced it.
Deal.
Queen on King, Jack on Queen, 10 on Jack… Did something go wrong? Was King supposed to go on Ace? Or Ace on 2? Yazoo didn't rightly know. He never would bother to find out. He tried to drift back into the nothingness of his mind. Somehow he couldn't. Somehow, he knew something was about to happen. Just like he knew when Loz would cry or Kadaj was about to have a fit.
Deal.
The fits were terrible. Kadaj wouldn't be able to control his rage. Someone would get hurt. Someone always got hurt if Yazoo wasn't there. Something in his mind, the part if it that shouldn't be there, it would always tell him. It was almost like what people described as instinct, only his formed words, it was as if another person was there, telling him, showing him what to do. Sometimes it showed him what would be, it was the only form of dream or nightmare he knew. He had these waking visions of things, sometimes memories, sometimes future events, and he could barely ever distinguish which was which.
But the fits weren't just rage…it was something else as well…
Deal.
Yazoo never slept. Ever. When he was staring out into space, not even thinking at all, that was his rest, that was his sleep. He only lost consciousness from being knocked out or drugged, never by will or need.
Deal.
Footsteps were approaching. A shadow loomed over Yazoo's game. He was afraid, suddenly, of what could happen… Not that anything ever did happen. No, his brothers never hurt him. Not like Them. They hated him because of what he wasn't, because he wasn't what They had hoped. No, not as "successful" as Loz. And Kadaj was Their prodigy, the most successful of any. But what if Kadaj lost control? What if he became like…
"Yazoo?" Kadaj whispered meekly.
Deal.
"Yazoo, are you alright?" Kadaj pursued.
Two on Three, Three on Four, Four on Five.
"Yazoo? Can you hear me?" Kadaj's voice was so soft now, almost inaudible as the tears were rising to the surface.
Ten on Jack, Jack on Queen, Queen on King.
"Don't do this to me, please," Kadaj pleaded, wrapping his arms around his older brother and falling to his knees behind him.
Yazoo froze, an Ace in his hand, halfway to the pile. Tears fell from his brother's eyes onto the plastic cards. Why was Kadaj doing this? What he supposed to do? It was all so awkward. Would it be fine if he just didn't do anything, as usual?
"Say something! Please," Kadaj hissed.
Apparently it wasn't fine. But say what? He had barely even begun to talk! Was he now expected to say everything that came to his mind? Hopefully not. He could barely even form a word without stuttering. He shuddered. He hated the stutters. He hated failure, though it wasn't like he could ever be perfect. They had drilled that into him long ago.
"Anything, just say anything!"
Deal.
Yazoo's hands moved quickly over the small plot of floor. He couldn't say anything, not now. Maybe if he just acted like everything was normal…maybe then Kadaj would go to his room and sulk until dinner was ready. Maybe…if things would just go back to normal. Kadaj was still clinging to him. No, he couldn't say anything now, he would later, when all the memories were put away neatly in their place. When the vault in his mind was securely locked and held no danger of opening, then he would speak.
Deal.
Suddenly, Kadaj dashed around in front of him, sweeping the cards out of the way. He landed in their place and gripped Yazoo's shoulders. He was trembling now. Was another fit about to come? Yazoo's "instinct" would not say. He would not look up.
"Please…please…just say…just say something," Kadaj managed through the sobs. Yazoo looked up and opened his mouth…but nothing came out. He tried again, but with the same result.
"B…Br…" he started. He closed his mouth. No.
Kadaj stared wide-eyed at his brother, anticipation clearly written on his face. Yazoo had almost said it, almost. He could do it, he really could, all he had to do was try. It was all he had to do. Couldn't he see that? No, he couldn't. Yazoo was too oppressed by what used to be. By the expectation of being perfect.
Perfect, Kadaj thought bitterly. Perfect…Nothing, nothing, nothing. If God meant for us to be perfect, he would've made it that way from the start.
Another fit was coming, Kadaj could feel the tremors rising in his form, but he held them back, held it all back. He had to hear, had to listen. It had been a whole day since Yazoo had last spoken. Kadaj needed so desperately to hear his brother's voice now, to know for certain that he had succeeded however slightly in his self-appointed mission, and not only that, but to know that Yazoo remembered. Remembered where they were and who they weren't.
The tremors were getting worse by the second. Why couldn't he just say something? But Kadaj knew why. It hurt to think about it, hurt to remember. Because of that place, those happenings, a 'childhood' in the dungeons of white, that was the reason it had taken Yazoo 13 years to say his first word.
"Please, please, just…just say it, please!" Kadaj hissed, gripping his brothers hard enough to bruise the pale skin that lay beneath the black shirt. But Yazoo didn't seemed to notice the grip. He didn't see the room, the cards. He only saw his brother in pain, pleading, pleading for him to respond, to answer while he could still be heard.
Yazoo pulled Kadaj closer and embraced him, causing the latter to gasp in surprise.
"Brother," he whispered as Kadaj surrendered himself to the fit. Yazoo held him, held him close as his body twitched and fought.
The fit seemed to last for an eternity. Kadaj fought to hold in the screams of anger and pain. Silent tears streaked Yazoo's face as he sensed his brother's pain. Finally the shaking, the tears, the cries, they all stopped. Yazoo held his brother a moment longer before gathering the smaller boy in his arms and carrying him to the dilapidated room in which Kadaj slept.
As Yazoo tucked his brother in, Loz entered the room and approached. He placed his large, muscular hands on Yazoo's thin shoulders reassuringly.
"Thank you," he said.
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Aurora's Note: Hope you liked it! I don't think I'll continue it, and if I do I'll change the name. Tell me what you think and if I should continue on it after a finish one of my other two stories.