1. This chapter is set a few weeks after the previous one.
2. Love: to Camille and Mara, friends and beta readers.
Something was wrong - Blake realized that within seconds of waking up. The question was, what? He lay still, breathing evenly, for a few moments, but his senses picked nothing unusual. Having decided that it was safe, Blake turned on his other side, and immediately saw what was wrong: Hunter's mattress was empty. The blanket was tossed aside, revealing the crumpled sheet – evidence that Hunter had slept there, but the mattress – and the apartment – was empty. Hunter wasn't there.
Blake sat up, shivering slightly as the blanket slid off of his body. The distance between the two mattresses was no more than a few steps. Blake crouched by Hunter's mattress and touched the sheet. Cold. So was the blanket, even where it still covered the sheet. Hunter had been gone for hours.
Damn it, bro. What do you think you're doing? Blake didn't know, anymore. He had lost the ability to predict his brother months ago. He rose from his crouch and walked over to the window. The street was empty. A cold breeze blew in through the crack they had left open before going to sleep. Blake shivered again. He didn't like the cold. It brought back bad memories of staying up late on Lothor's ship, plotting revenge. He tried hard to leave that time behind him. He still remembered that day when he realized what he had almost become. Tori didn't know – he didn't have the heart to tell her. Hunter had been the one setting the pace, back when the brothers still thought that the Winds were their enemies, but the ideas were Blake's – the ideas to deceive and use Dustin, and then Tori. Blake remembered laughing at their gullibility and the cold satisfaction it brought. The coldness gradually faded after he and Hunter had joined with the Winds, until Blake could recognize himself again. Only then he realized that Hunter hadn't change – or rather, hadn't change back. He had remained detached, and when Blake tried to talk to him, to understand what went wrong, he found himself shut out. Hunter wouldn't admit to anything being not the way it had been. Yes, Hunter had always been wary and prone to brooding, but in Blake's memory Hunter had never been quite this guarded, or so moody – and he'd never purposefully shut Blake out before.
And now, this. Blake frowned into the night. Hunter seemed to have improved somewhat over the last couple of weeks, but this disappearing-into-the-night thing couldn't be a good sign. With a sigh, Blake turned away from the window. He didn't know how long a watch he would be facing.
--
The sound of a key turning in the lock made Blake straighten where he was sitting, on his mattress with his back against the wall. Hunter was back. He closed the door silently behind him, still unaware that his brother was awake. Then he turned – and halted.
"Hi," said Blake.
"Hi," answered Hunter carefully.
Pause.
"I just went out for a breather," said Hunter finally.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. It was stuffy in here."
"I've been waiting for you for almost half an hour."
"I stretched my legs a bit."
"Your bed was already cold when I woke up, Hunter. You've been gone for hours."
Hunter stuffed his hands into the front pocket of the sweatshirt he was wearing. "So what if I have?"
There was something wrong about this picture, but Blake couldn't place it. "And you just lied about it, too."
"Yeah, 'cause it's not your business if I went out for a walk."
"It is, when it's 2 a.m. and you're acting like you've something to hide," snapped Blake. He got up and approached his brother where he was still standing by the door. "Hunter…"
Hunter turned and walked away, towards the kitchen, leaving Blake standing by the door. Again Blake was struck by the sense of something unusual, but still he couldn't put his finger on it. "I'm worried about you," he told his brother's back. "I freaked out when I woke up and you weren't here."
Hunter turned, facing his brother again. "S'okay," he said, "Guess I freaked a little too, finding you awake."
Blake hesitated. Hunter seemed sincere – from the small, seemingly unconscious shrug to the tone of his voice, but his eyes didn't hold Blake's for more than a second before sliding down, to where his hands were still stuffed in that pocket. Suddenly, Blake knew what was odd. "New sweatshirt?"
"What?"
Blake had thought it was just a new sweatshirt, albeit one he had never seen before and, with a hood, a front pocket and no print - a far cry from Hunter's usual style. Hunter's response, though, put Blake on high alert: the startled and defensive tone, the sudden tensing of Hunter's shoulders. Something was up about this sweatshirt. Acting on instinct, Blake slapped the light switch. The sudden bright light made Hunter raise his arm, trying to shield his eyes. In the full light, Blake knew that he'd seen this sweatshirt – or its twin – before; Hunter just wasn't the one wearing it. "Is this Shane's sweatshirt?" Blake demanded. The answer was in Hunter's eyes. "Don't lie to me again, please."
"Wasn't going to."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"I can't even tell if you really mean that."
"What do you mean?"
He had no doubts about this question's honesty, so Blake answered in kind. "You're shutting me out, Hunter. Sometimes I feel like…" Blake spread his arms helplessly. "Why?" he asked in a quieter tone.
Hunter shrugged. "I didn't want to burden you."
"We're brothers, Hunter. We're supposed to be there for each other." The reprimand didn't come as sharply as he intended, possibly because Blake was acutely aware that this was the closest to being let in that he'd been in months. "You wanna tell me what's going on?"
For a few heartbeats, Blake thought Hunter was going to back down again. Then, abruptly, Hunter said: "Shane and me."
Blake waited, but Hunter didn't continue. "Shane and you, what?" he prompted. Hunter gave him a look that said Blake should've realized it by himself. "I'm not a mind reader, bro."
"You don't need to be," muttered Hunter.
Blake just waited.
"Shane and me," repeated Hunter. "What part of it aren't you getting?"
Okay. There was obviously something he wasn't getting here. Like, how did Hunter get Shane's sweatshirt in the middle of the night. From Shane - Hunter had as good as told him that; but what would Shane and Hunter be doing, meeting in secret at weird hours? Blake knew what it looked like, but – he paused. The way Hunter had said it suggested the same answer, as did the way he seemed to try and shrink into Shane's sweatshirt.
"Are you telling me that you and Shane are together?" asked Blake carefully. "Together as in, dating?"
"Yeah."
He hadn't been prepared for this. He knew he was being locked out, but – Blake took a deep breath. He hadn't been expecting something of this scale. "And you were going to tell me when?" he demanded.
"It's a bit of a new thing…"
"Not that!" snapped Blake. He knew he was almost shouting, but he didn't care too much about it. Hunter deserved to be startled a little. "Well, that too, but – what, you didn't trust me enough to tell me you're gay?" Blake took another deep breath, trying not to be too angered by Hunter's unreadable stare. "How long?"
Hunter shrugged.
"What, you don't know?"
"No, I don't, okay?" snapped Hunter.
"But before Shane?"
"Yes, Blake. Before Shane."
The caustic tone actually cut through Blake's indignant anger. He had obviously done something wrong here – quickly realizing how his question may have come across, he tried to soften his tone as he said: "I didn't mean it that way. Sorry." Hunter was still just glaring at him. Blake wanted to step towards his brother and physically shake him, but dared do neither. "How do you think it makes me feel, that you wouldn't trust me with something like…"
"It just never was an issue."
Blake bit back his retort. He wasn't trying to get into a fight here. "So, you and Shane?" he tried.
"Yeah."
"Since…?"
"Couple of weeks back."
The pieces fell together, now that Blake knew what the puzzle was. Or thought he knew – he had a sinking suspicion that Hunter was still keeping a stomachfull of secrets.
"I hurt you, didn't I."
Blake's head snapped up at Hunter's quiet words.
"I didn't mean to," continued Hunter, still a little awkwardly. "Sorry."
You never listened when I tried to tell you this before, thought Blake, but he didn't say it. Instead, he simply said: "It's okay." Carefully, he took one step forward, and then another, until he was standing in front of Hunter again. "Anything else I should know?"
"Don't think so."
"Good." He hated this – hated the feeling of having to tiptoe around Hunter.
"Hey."
He looked up at Hunter.
"Can you please not look so sad?"
Blake had to smile a little at that. "Sorry."
Hunter smiled back. It wasn't the lopsided smile Blake had gotten used to seeing lately, but a small, hesitant one that was more like the old smile he remembered. Nothing's more constant than change. Blake knew that, but somehow he had never truly realized it, before. "Red looks good on you," he admitted.
Hunter glanced down at the sweatshirt. "I totally forgot I was wearing it."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I forgot a sweatshirt when I ran out, and it's a bit chilly outside with just a shirt. Shane wouldn't get off my back until I put it on."
"Well, at least I know he's good for you." And then he had to smile at Hunter's glare. "What?" asked Blake innocently.
The glare faded. "I'm too tired. Are we going to be talking much longer?"
"Not if you're going to fall asleep on your feet."
"Very funny, Blake."
They moved as they spoke – Hunter directly to his mattress, Blake to the light switch. Hunter was already under the covers, fast asleep, in the seconds it took Blake to switch off the lights and turn around. Moonlight fell from the window, highlighting just how vulnerable Hunter seemed when asleep. Maybe that's reality, thought Blake as he stood there, and I just never realized it before. Shane's sweatshirt was now lying on the floor, inches away from Hunter's pillow – and Hunter's face. Blake understood that – if he had anything of Tori's, he'd probably fall asleep hugging it like a teddy bear. Well, he thought as he slid under his blanket, at least I know this family is going to get along fine, if we make it out alive. And then he closed his eyes, and tried to fall asleep.
