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Three hours later, I am tired, but I refuse to fall asleep before my brother. I enter into the infirmary to greet the two of my teammates.
"Hey guys", I say softly, "I got tea, and hot chocolate."
Duke groans something, and I immediately look to my brother. He's laying down and there is no way with the accent and the angle he is positioned at that I can determine what he is saying. Since Duke isn't looking, my brother quickly signs that Duke wanted coffee not tea.
"Yeah I know", I respond, nodding as a thank you to my brother, "But Tanya says that you need to go to sleep, and I know you like tea, so deal with it."
Duke smirks and accepts the tea. My brother on the other hand, drinks the hot chocolate down with much more enthusiasm. I go to rest on my brother's bed.
"No", he says looking right at me. Rarely does he tell me no like this. Oh well. I'm six five, he's five four, let's guess who is winning this one, shall we?
"Too bad", I tell him.
I can see Duke eyeing us, but he smarter than to say something. Well good for him.
"Please", my brother says, "I'm sixteen."
"And hurt", I remind him, "Don't fight with me. You're only wasting the little energy you have."
My brother sighs and makes room for me on the bed. Good boy. Now understand the worst night of my life was when I was in the hotel for the hockey tournament. Nosedive, and I naturally shared a room, with another teammate. One night, my teammate was absent from the room, (yes breaking curfew) leaving me and my nine year-old blonde brat. Nosedive became violently ill over night. He was in the opposing bed, and I had already gone to sleep. I'm deaf, I couldn't hear my brother screaming in the middle of the night. It took the coaches forever to hear him, track down my roommate for the key, and then to call the emergency services after they determined that it was serious. I wakened up to the lights, and seeing one of my coaches hovering over me.
I remember feeling so confused, I had no idea what was happening, until I saw my brother being put onto a stretcher and being brought to the hospital. I felt so stupid, utterly stupid, and angry. My brother could have died. It had taken the coaches forty minutes to get my brother to the hospital with the ambulance. That is forty minutes of my brother screaming in pain, and there I was, just sleeping, like nothing was happening.
Nosedive needed to have his appendix removed. A simple childhood procedure, but my brother could have died because of it. If the coaches had never heard him, he would have died. Do you know how retarded you can feel for that? I felt so helpless and so angry that I couldn't help my brother. I hate that feeling. I started really hating deaf and hating myself after that. I felt like I could do nothing. What kind of moron doesn't help his own brother who is two feet away from him? I felt plain out stupid. I suddenly had come to terms that night, that I was really deaf. I had never appreciated that being deaf could be dangerous, and make me stupid. I fought stereotypes like that all the time, only to have it backfire as I couldn't even get help for a mere child. The humiliation of watching four people crowding around my brother's bed helping him, as I had slept away like nothing was happening, is beyond perverse. After that, I changed. I became aware that I truly was deaf, I know it "sounds" weird. But it's true.
Yes, worse things have happened to me in my own life. My father's death takes precedence over this small event, as does my mother's depression. The saurian invasion, takes precedence over an emergency room trip. Canard sacrificing himself, also fits the category. But that night, is the night that I realized that I hated myself. I realized I was deaf. Understand?
After that, my brother was forced to sleep in my bed, so if something happened, he would be able to wake me. It was only a few years ago that my brother absolutely refused to do it, saying that he was too old, and that it was embarrassing, and he didn't care how paranoid I was, cause he wasn't doing it.
But now, now my brother was seriously injured. Yes, I classify serious as being beat up. I don't care if its not serious in medical terms, it was serious enough to me. He had stitches in his arm where the guard had struck him, and bandages wrapped underneath his hair, which my brother had previously told me, made him look cool. In addition, he had bandages similar to Duke's, holding the bruised ribs in place. And alas, I had been told by Tanya that both Duke and Nosedive had received burns. Although I hadn't seen them, and Nosedive was yet to make recognition of it, Tanya assured me that they were there. It must be bad the way she was talking about it. Part of me is dying to have my brother tell me about it, and the other half is telling me that ignorance is bliss.
The two of us sit on the bed as my brother sips the hot chocolate down.
"Good", I ask him.
My brother nods his head excitedly.
I love that about my brother, little things make him happy.
"What about you Duke", I ask.
Duke thankfully, just nods in appreciation. A nod, I understand. I turn my attention to my brother, and deliver the bad news.
"Tanya says one week bed rest", I tell him.
My brother chokes on the hot chocolate, and sprays the remaining out onto my shirt. I go to say something, but he beats me for floor time.
"What", he cries in protest, "No way! I'm fine!"
"No you're not", I tell him, "Tanya says she wants to monitor the ribs. They're not broken, but with further agitation they can be. You don't want that, do you?"
"I'll risk it."
I go to say something clever, as Nosedive elbows me over to Duke's direction. I look at Duke as he asks me if the same rule applies to him. Or at least I hope that's what he asked. It looked like it, and I'm going to take a venture and hope I'm right.
"Tanya wants the same for you too", I say.
He visibly grunts, and I have myself a quiet victory that I got it right, but this self victory is soon replaced with depression as I remind myself that normal people don't celebrate understanding each other. I wonder what my little brother would think if he knew his idol was such a fuck-up. Oh well, I have bigger concerns.
"Nosedive", I say quietly, "Tanya said you got some burns."
My brothers eyes go dark, and he looks away. Him looking away is his indication to me that he doesn't want to talk. He knows that if I'm not looking directly at him, I can't understand him. Too bad though, I'm the older brother, and I want to know what happened. I'm about to ask again as Nosedive once again taps me to look to Duke.
"Don't", he says, "Just don't."
"I want to know what happened", I reply back hotly.
Who does he think he is? This is my baby brother, I am in charge of him, and better yet, I am in charge of this team, and I have a right to know what is happening. How dare he! Duke shakes his head, and says something that I can't understand. Stupid city accent. My brother forces my head towards him, and I trust him to tell me if I need to answer to Duke.
"It's okay Duke", Nosedive says.
Then he looks to me, "Duke has it too", he says again.
Damn it Dive, let me take care of you for once. I wish I could say that, but the truth of the matter is, I truly do depend on him. Damn it all. I will not allow my anger to hurt my brother. Nosedive is not the enemy here. So I suck in my anger, and calmly continue to talk to my brother.
"Dive", I say, "What is going on? I thought everything was cool with the bandages."
My brother offers me a weak smile, "Yeah it is, but this one is different."
Without another word, he lifts his shirt and I see the problem. On the side of his stomach I see the "burn". It's not a burn; it's my brother being branded. The Saurian symbol is imprinted onto him, and underneath Le Ochont Dorium 02 is written. After I have examined it, my brother quickly tucks his shirt over the wound. Unfortunately it seems that my brother once again is showing a trait of my mother that if you pretend everything is okay, than everything is okay. Funny, how things work themselves out. I decide I have to say something, but I fumble for the right words.
"What does the wording mean", I ask, not wanting to comment on the rest of it.
My brother shrugs and then points to Duke again.
"It means", he says, "Enemy…" and I can't make out the second word.
Nosedive signs the word, "prisoner" quickly for me.
Duke continues to talk, and lucky for me, that he has a fixated stare directly ahead of him. I am desperately trying to understand him, but alas, between the combination of the accent and the profile view, I can't make anything out. But, there is some silver lining. Nosedive can sign to me, since Duke isn't looking at us, its risky, but we like risks.
Nosedive tells me that the words context means that he and Duke were considered to be very important since they could offer information. I later find out, that the guards were planning on doing that to all of us, and than separating us all to different cells with other prisoners in the galaxy, (which gives me hope that they can still transport us to home) and then see who was to break first.
Then my brother adds something.
"Duke is zero one", he tells me.
I'm not sure what to say, so instead I hug him slightly around the shoulders, and tell him that I'm proud of him. He looks up to me and genuinely says thanks you.
"It's cool", I say.
"No it's not", my brother replies quickly.
"Hear me out", I say, stressing the word "hear".
For some reason, that joke always works, and my brother smiles up at me, now giving me his full attention.
"Okay", he says with a little grin.
"It shows that you fought for your country", I tell him, "It shows the bravery you showed. That is cool."
I decide to keep it simple and short. If I exaggerate the explanation, I am sure my brother will be overwhelmed.
"Yeah that is cool", he says, but then soon adds, "But Wing, I don't belong to them. I don't want this on me."
I exhale, and I have no idea how to answer that. But before I can do anything, my brother head is jerked to Duke's direction. I can see my brother asking, "how", and than Duke jerks his head towards me and points a thumb at me. I have no idea what is going on, and I am too tired to bother, Nosedive will translate it soon. I've been tired a lot lately. I can see that my brother is getting excited over whatever it is. Duke looks at me again, and asks "okay?" I can definitely make that word out, even I can't screw that up.
I look at my brother, hoping that I can make it at least look like some emotional scene. You know, locking eyes, searching each other's souls and all that crap? In reality I'm trying to get a translation, ah and the self-loathing is coming dangerously close. My brother nods his head yes, and I reply, "Yeah." Can't screw that up on my part. The shorter the statement, the less chance of me screwing it up.
"Please", my brother begs, "Please do whatever it is."
I throw him a strange look, as if for that minute in time, he had forgotten that I was deaf. My brother recovers, looks over my shoulder, sees that Duke is once again staring at the wall, and begins to interpret. He tells me that Duke has a plan to sort of fix the "scar", and he tells me that I might not be okay with it, which is why he wants to talk to me in private first. Ah, that is what he was asking what was okay.
"Okay", I sign, "I'll look into it. But if Duke is telling me that I might not be okay with it, it probably means I won't be. So don't get any hopes up. But we'll do something, okay?"
My brother nods, and accepts that for now.
It's too quiet, which is ironic coming from me, but whatever, I grew up with hearing expressions, instead of deaf ones. I'm used to my brother filling the so-called "silence". Well I guess it's my turn for once. I decide that now is as good as any, and so I'm going in. With one look, over to Duke, who is now thankfully sleeping, I begin to sign to my brother, which is so much better than saying it, because I want it to be personal.
I tap his arm to get his attention. He looks towards me, and damn does he look tired, and older.
"I want to ask you something", I tell him.
Nosedive instinctively looks over my shoulder to see if Duke is watching.
"He's sleeping", I say out loud.
My brother nods, and then struggles to smile as he asks me, "What's up?"
Okay I'll give you the heads up. I'm going to ask my brother to be my best man for my wedding. Yes, I am engaged, to Nancy Miller. With her shoulder brown hair, and small thin body, she has had the ability to continue capture my attention. She is a simple, plain, loving, deaf, yes deaf, (communication is important in marriages, or so I "hear"), woman. Yes, I like that joke, deal with it. We were supposed to get married five months ago, but it's kind of hard to have a wedding when the groom is on another planet. I savor these thoughts to remind myself not to really go overboard with the depression thing, because I do have a life waiting for me when I go home. Okay, now to Nosedive.
Wait, what's this? I should have had picked out a best man before five months prior to the wedding? Well too bad, ha although of course between me and Nancy, I've had this planned since I was five too, and yes, this is the wedding of my dreams.
"I was wondering if you were interested in being my best man for my wedding", I ask him. Yes I'm blunt, is that a problem? Deal with it. (It's also culturally deaf, but whatever, you know how I feel about that word, phrase, whatever, yes I said "whatever" twice, technically now three times, whatever, (four and counting) you'll live).
My brother eyes bulge out of his head.
"Who me", he asks.
"Yeah", I say laughing.
"That would be so cool", he tells me.
"Good", I say.
"What about Canard", he asks me.
"What about him", I reply.
"He's your best friend", he says, "And he's your age."
"And you're my brother", I tell him, "And if you question it again, I'll punch you."
My brother hesitates to speak, as he slowly realizes that he had told me the exact same thing previously. He laughs and hugs me, "Thanks Wing", he adds. I ruffle his hair, and he instinctively goes to swat my hand away. He winces, and brings his arm to his ribs.
"Easy", I tell him.
My brother nods. I tap him on the shoulder for him to look at me, which he does, although still clutching his ribs.
"You got to be gentle", I tell him, "Cause if something happens to those ribs, we all know who Tanya is going to blame."
My brother smiles, as he allows himself to be laid down by me.
"Go to sleep", I tell him.
"I don't want to", he tells me, "I want to talk about the wedding."
"Too bad", I tell him, "I'm the older brother."
And I don't know anything about the wedding. That was Nancy's thing. All I was told to do, (after I screwed up something with the cake) was just show up, and ha, I've managed to not even do that!
"That's not a valid argument", he tells me.
"Don't start that", I tell him.
"Start what?"
"That."
"What are you talking about?"
"That whole stalling thing."
"What whole stalling thing?"
"You always do this."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"You've done this since you were six. Don't you have any other stalling techniques?"
"You would think so, but sadly no."
"Good night."
I then turn my head away, if I'm not looking at him, as you know, we can't communicate. I can feel my brother pounding at my shoulder, but I ignore it, even though I would love to sit up and talk to him. But I am the older brother, and I need to be the one that keeps control of the situation, he needs to sleep. Finally his incessant tapping stops, and after him struggling to become comfortable, (which is difficult considering the bed is flat and hard, and I'm taking up half of it), he finally falls off to sleep. I lay my head down on the bed rest, predict back pains in the morning, and follow his lead.
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Ah, day three in my brother's mandatory bed-rest. I visit every now and then, as I go about my daily duties. You want the good news first, or the bad? Save the best for last? Okay, so the good news first, my brother has stopped trying to escape the hospital room. The bad? He's been puking all day after Tanya changed the pain medication. Lucky him. He's been cranky, and irritable all day, so I am trying to avoid er, I mean give him his space to the best of my ability. I am now currently washing the dishes, and I groan as I see Duke's reflection in the window.
"You're as bad as Nosedive", I tell him, "You should be lying down."
And than, something very odd happens, he smiles mischievously at me. That smirk could match Dive's. I don't like this, something is happening, and I don't like being kept in the dark on situations, which is funny, because throughout most of my life I have been. Duke takes a seat and keeps staring at me through the window. I am getting chills throughout my body, but anger quickly replaces it when he doesn't stop.
"What", I ask him.
Than to my absolute horror, he raises his hands, and tells me in sign language, "Nothing."
He keeps smiling. I drop the dish into the sink. Damn it! First, I would love to know how he found out I was deaf, and second, where in the world did he learn sign language? It than occurs to me that he has the power to tell anyone on the team. Did he already tell them? Shit.
"You might want to clean that up", he signs to me, and than I realize that I'm bleeding from the dish that I broke.
I whip around and glare at him, but alas he is not intimidated, even though I hover over him when the two of us are adjacent to each other. It's funny in my life, the people that I respect and sometimes love the most, are never intimidated by my height. But that won't stop me. I continue my death glare, as he slowly stands up and walks off. Well like hell, am I going to allow that to happen.
"Hey", I yell at him.
"Don't worry", he tells me, "No one knows."
My glaring doesn't not subside from this confession, "You better keep it that way", I sign to him.
"Ah so you really are deaf", he signs smiling.
Shit, I just admitted it! I could have just turned around and looked at him like he was crazy, he was testing me! The anger boils in my blood, as I feel myself loosing control and giving into the temptation of strangling him. But, lucky him, my comm goes off, (mine is set to vibrate). Tanya's face shows up, and lucky me, the screen is static. Well isn't that lovely, now I have no idea what she is saying.
Duke waves me up, I glare to him, "Don't you do that to me", I hiss. I will not be treated as a deaf person.
"You're deaf", he signs back quickly, and as I go to say something, he grabs my hand, preventing further conversation; it has the undeclared equivalence of "shut up". "Tanya wants you at infirmary something is wrong with Nosedive."
This immediately takes precedence over the Duke crisis. I glare at him one last time, and no I will not thank him, because I don't need help. I am not helpless, and I'll be damned if I have to rely on him. Shit. I couldn't even get the damn message myself.
"I don't need your help", I tell him, and than walk off to the infirmary.
I see my brother is being held down by Grin, a sight that I do not like to see, and than to my horror I see Nosedive is out of it. He is completely out of it from the drugs, and I realize I have just lost my interpreter. I like risks when they involve myself, but now when they involve other people, especially my brother. I feel a tap on my shoulder and see Duke is walking across the room to the opposite side behind Tanya. He's ready to interpret. Well isn't that nice.
"Tanya", I ask, "What is going on?"
She says something as she fumbles with a sedative, I have no clue what it is and I remind myself that it is Nosedive this situation is about, not me. She's nervous, and when she's nervous she tends to stutter and I can't understand one damn word. I swallow all my pride, and dignity and look to Duke for the translation. For my brother, yes I will do that.
He tells me that Nosedive didn't react with the drugs well, well that's obvious don't you think? Why anyone would waste breath on saying that furthers my agitation, but I say nothing and watch Duke continue. Duke signs hard-core sign language. It is not the English syntax, which surprises me more, he truly has a grasp on this language, (Dive and I sign pidgin). Another thing that surprises me is that he uses "old signs". As in English, new words are developed that mean the same thing, i.e. groovy has become cool. Same for sign. He uses the old versions of many signs, which propels my curiosity on where he learned sign, (it couldn't have possibility been a class, the classes teach new signs). Anyway, he tells me that Nosedive was trying to claw out the "burn" on his side. Well isn't that lovely. This kid is too extreme.
"Let go Grin", I tell him, "Let him go."
Grin obedient as ever, does I say.
"Tanya", I say, "Hold the syringe. He doesn't need it."
I love drugs, medicinal or not. I love the idea, that I can temporary leave and not have to handle life. When I was in high school I experimented with all kinds of drug shit. I personally love it, but as I've grown older, I've picked a more reasonable poison, working out until it hurts to breathe. However, Nosedive hates being suppressed. I don't understand it, but then again I don't have to. I respect my brother enough to keep off from the sedatives. I'll use that as my last resort.
I sit on top of my brother while watching for his ribs as I grab my brother's hands and forcefully push him to the bed. Duke moves his position closer to the bed, so that I can see him, and with his back turned, they wont be able to see him either. He tells me that Tanya is lecturing me to be careful, well too bad. Nosedive will live.
"Nosedive", I yell at him.
"Aw", he says, "What's the matter? Trying to relieve some sexual tension?"
I'm dumfounded for a minute, until I realize I'm straddled on my brother's stomach. Lovely, incest, that just completes this absolutely fantastic day, so I growl at him. Yes growl. I mean how else do you respond to that? If he's going to have a bad reaction to medication, I can too. Mature? No. Justifiable? Maybe. Satisfying? Hell yes.
Well, this only causes my brother to roar at me. Lucky me, I'm deaf, I can't hear him, and I can't hear Tanya who I am sure at this point is screaming at me. She'll live.
I hold his arms down with one hand, and with my other, force his face to look at mine. We make eye contact, and my brother settles. Soon enough, like magic, he falls asleep. Good. I release my grip on him, and he unconsciously makes himself comfortable.
I look towards Tanya, (who looks ill) and she tells me that she is going to have to take Nosedive off the medication. Poor girl is probably trying to erase the lovely imagery that the Flasblade brothers displayed. Yay, we're at it again, go us. Anyway, for this conversation I don't need Duke for, thankfully. Give me some dignity. She is looking right at me, this I won't screw up. Although, it might help the conversation on her end, if I get up off my comatose looking brother.
"What about the pain", I ask, while moving to the floor.
"I was planning on keeping Nosedive on the medication only for another day", she tells me, "It will only be one day. If his ribs hurt him, than I can give him over the counter pain medication, it won't be strong, but that's all I can do. I'm not risking anymore heavy medication again."
I nod and go to my brother's bed. She then leaves looking at little more pale than she did when I had first seen her, and I make a mental note to be normal around her for the upcoming days.
I'm going to sit with him for a while, just to make sure that he's okay, and I make another mental note that I need have a talk with him about that "burn". I don't care if he was drugged or not, that need for its removal came from somewhere. I see Duke move out of the room, and I give him no sign of a thank you, as I sink further into my own depression.
It takes about two hours for my brother to wake up; I've been watching the small television in the room since that point. It was actually nice, I was finally able to put on the CC (closed captioning, you know the little words that say what the characters are saying), and my excuse was, I didn't want the volume of the T.V. to wake my brother, so I had it on the CC and mute. I didn't need my excuse though, no one came in.
I feel that tapping on my shoulder, and I look down to my brother, he's holding his head.
"It okay", he asks me.
I nod; no one else is in the room.
"My head hurts", he tells me.
"Tanya said that your body didn't accept the pain medication too well."
Yes, I will blame the drugs for the headache that I probably caused. Hey, I'm no doctor, and I cannot say for medical certainty that it wasn't the drugs, now can I? No, it had nothing to do with me banging him down, hey what else was I supposed to do? Stop looking at me like that, we're brothers. Its okay if we're a little rough together. Hey, he broke my cheekbone once, so there, it's not just me. Actually, that was because I "accidentally" dropped his favorite toy over his head. Um, maybe it's better if I zone back into reality and stop entertaining you with all the details you need for social services.
"I was being drugged?"
"Yeah."
"How come I didn't know?"
" Just for the pain, Divey. Nothing serious, besides, I thought you knew."
"Why would I think that?"
"Cause of the tube sticking into your vein."
"I thought that was the IV."
"One of them is, the other isn't."
"There's two?"
I intake heavily, and with all of my power I don't smack him.
"Look at it!" I say in utter frustration.
"Wow", he replies, "There are two."
I really should just smack him. It would make me feel so much better.
"So the pain medication which was supposed to stop the pain, really ended up giving me more pain?"
"Something like that", I mutter, (yes you can mutter in sign language), relieved that he stopped with the investigation on his body.
"My head hurts."
I shake my head, "I'm sorry."
I really don't know what else to say to that. I decide to not tell my brother about Duke right now. He really does look like crap.
"Anything interesting happen", he asks.
"I'll tell you later", I tell him.
"I really feel like crap."
"I'm sorry."
"Stop saying that."
"Stop saying statements like that. I can't do anything about it."
He glares at me, and than tries to sit up.
I can see him say something instinctively to the pain that follows it. He picks up his shirt to find the source of the pain, and then sees the burn with claw like indentures around it. He looks up at me curiously, ah so I do have to tell him about that. I wasn't planning on telling him that one. I didn't want to bring up bad memories.
"Like I told you", I say, "Your body didn't react well with the drugs."
"What does that have to do with a cat attacking me?"
"What? We don't have a cat."
"So than what was it?"
Hesitantly, I tell him, "You."
"Me", he asks.
I nod my head.
He sits back into the pillow, and than a slow smile forms, "Cool."
I roll my eyes and, I question why I ever thought that this would bother him.
"You talk to Duke", he asks me.
"Why", I ask him curiously.
"I want to fix this", he tells me and points to the "burn".
"No but I will", I tell him, which angers me more because I'll have to face Duke and that damn smirk face of his.
"Please", my brother asks, "I want it off."
"I promise", I tell him.
My brother accepts this, and slowly falls back to sleep. It's funny me and him. When we were growing up, well I guess he still is growing up, but that's not the point, no one ever knew we were brothers.
He has always sported that longer hair look, while I have always had a nice, clean-cut, not-requiring-a-brush, preppy haircut. But wait, there's more. As much as my brother hates to admit, (for reasons that I don't why), I was a prep during high school. Well, a prep with the team's sports jacket, so prep/jock, (who secretly would hang out with the "loser" kids, and smoke pot). That combination, the prep/jock thing, apparently means evil in my brother's world, but that was me. Nosedive on the other hand, much to my mother's dismay, was all out punk. The long hair, and black everything, and those annoying plastic wrist bracelets that went up to his elbows, was my brother. His style has settled some as we have gotten older, but the converse sneakers (much to my dismay can be found on Earth, lucky me), and the ripped up black jeans have stayed, (it was better than the baggy pants he used to wear, the ripped up ones, I can live with a little better).
I have always taken pride in what I dress, and always pay much attention to what I look like. That is the one thing about myself that I honestly really do like. I used to be a personal trainer on the weekends back at home; I loved that job, (I had given up on the drugs at that point, because it does take a toll on your appearances). Clothes, and body appearance have always been important for me. Although it's funny, Dive's style in public with me, didn't have that oomph I thought it would have. The first time my brother started dressing like that, I admit I almost had a heart attack, but really, I got over it. The two of us are cool like that.
We've always been different I guess. But I think our differences balance each other. For two different people, we've come pretty close, and I'm proud of that. When I used to tell people that Nosedive was my brother, people's jaws would drop. No one could believe that the blonde mess with fish-net sleeves, next to the letterman-jacket kid could be related. That was good, I enjoyed getting people's reactions, sometimes its fun to cause a stir. Man, Divey has been really rubbing off on me lately. However, there is one thing the two of us share. People have always told me that we have the same eyes, whatever the hell that means. I used to think they were talking about our eye color, (we both got blue eyes, but even that's different, since mine are more like a sapphire color, and his more robin's-egg blue, (shut up, so I memorized the colors in the Crayola box and interject them into daily life, (you don't even want to know the story behind that one)), but people always say it anyway.
Unnecessary Flashback (hey, its not like I'm going to wake my brother up for you entertainment, or mine for that matter)
It was like any other day-Ah sorry folks, we've been interrupted, by Tanya, and she doesn't look happy.
"WildWing", she says, I don't like when people start things out by saying a person's first name, that usually means something bad is following, "We need to talk." Oh, this isn't good.
I opt to say nothing as she pulls up a chair next to my spot on my brother's bed.
"Something wrong", I ask.
"Nosedive", she says, "He's developed an infection."
"Okay", I say, truly not following.
"It's serious", she tells me.
Fantastic, more good news. I am slowly loosing my mind.
"How serious?"
"He contracted the infection when being held captive-."
"How serious", I ask her once again, I don't think that she understands that this isn't another teammate on the team, we're talking about. This is my brother.
"It depends on how he reacts to the medication I'm going to start him on."
I nod my head, "So he can get better?"
She nods to me, "But-"
I hate when sentences start like that too, "buts" are never good.
"But, he needs to stay in this room for a long period of time."
Wow, Tanya I award you the most vague award of the day. Keep it up, and I'll give you the most frustrating too. Ah, but wait, Duke is runner-up on both of those, hmm, I'll let Nosedive decide.
"How long", I ask her.
"Three months."
"Why", I ask her, "He's a kid-"
"WildWing", she tells me
By the way, deaf people never state someone's name like that. It's not cultural, but than again I'm not culturally deaf, but whatever. The reason is not that I've already started you out on this tidbit is because the deaf are always looking at each other, so to state the name again really has no point. Just thought you'd like to know.
"I don't want the infection to progress, and mostly because, the medicine I'm going to give him contains the same components of the pain medication that I administered earlier."
"That made him sick", I state.
She nods, and now I get it. Well, my brother is going to be puking for three months. Ha, he's going to love this.
"Alright", I say, "I'm going to go out and get some stuff. Do me a favor Tanya, and let me tell him?"
She nods her head, as I fish for my keys in my pocket, and off I go. I'm going to go get some stuff for the infirmary room to soften the blow. Plus I'll pick up some goodies, like comics, movies, and a goldfish, (Dive loves fish). It won't be so bad. We'll survive these three months, somehow.
I walk out of the room and pass Duke in the kitchen when I'm about to leave, he's about to say something, so to opt for the three-year-old method and storm out and tell him, "not now".
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