Just a little something that I decided to write that's not really going anywhere. Don't know if I'll continue it or what I'll add if I did, but I'm open to suggestions! Just wanted to get some words down.
Another punch to the face had him stumbling back. A hand flew to his face as he felt blood start to gush from his nose, whilst his other hand was occupied with trying to block the next blow.
He managed to get his fingers wrapped around the slimmer wrist and he twisted the arm away, but despite the awkward angle, his attacker still tried to throw himself at him.
"You don't want to do this!" Virgil cried as he tried to grab onto the other arm, his bloody nose forgotten about for now, but his words were ignored. "It's me!"
His brother's eyes were manic, unseeing. He didn't even realise it was his own brother that he was attacking. His face was sporting its own bruises where Virgil had no choice but to hit him in defence and protect himself from being knocked out.
Virgil still had a good grip on one of his brother's arms, but there was still another fist that kept trying to land on him, not to mention two legs that took every opportunity they could get to kick him in the stomach. Virgil didn't know how much longer it would be before his brother got the upper hand, if he didn't already.
His brother was clearly not stopping anytime soon. Whatever had happened to him, Virgil had no idea, but his brother was clearly not himself. Virgil had to find a way to stop him before his brother hurt him again, or worse, himself. There was only one thing he could think of, if words were not going to work.
He dodged the next punch that came his way and before his brother could do anything else, Virgil used the grip he had on his wrist to pull his brother into his chest. He wrapped his arms around his brother's own arms and chest, and squeezed tightly.
He ignored the tears that threatened to spill as his brother started to struggle, but he didn't relent. He was kicked and his toes were stepped on. His brother was strong, so it was difficult to keep a tight grip on him, but Virgil had always been stronger, and soon the struggles began to weaken.
Virgil waited until his brother stilled and slumped in his arms, and then he gently laid him on the ground, the guilt weighing heavily on him with the knowledge that he had done that.
"I'm sorry, Gordon," he uttered to the unmoving body of his little brother, whose chest still rose and fell with each breath, but whatever was happening to his mind still went unknown.
