Since the day my brother and I were born, something deep inside me has started to whisper. Call it whatever you want: God, intuition, a higher being, or the results of simple observation. But… my brother felt foreign. And not in the sense that he has some kind exotic feel to him or he looked out of place in everyday life, no, in those aspects he was your everyday average Joe. Though I must say in our family, he looked like the only white sheep in a herd of black ones. Moreover, as far as I was concerned we looked more like opposites than the twins did.
When I have dark and curly hair, Lio has nearly ideal blond hair. Sometimes I have a serious doubt that he doesn't use some kind of secret Tinker-tech to keep them so flawless looking. Last time I asked him about where to get one; he gave me his nearly perfect poker face and then just walked away with a complicated expression on his face. After that, I decided not even to attempt to question him about it…
Okay, so back to the topic of how unsimilar we are.
Dad and Mom as well as me all have green eyes. This guy? Crystal blue. Just crystal blue eyes in a family full of green-eyed people. I swear if I wasn't living with him for over 14 years under the same roof I would bet all of my pocket money that he was a secret leader of Nazis. Because why not? He was as pure-blood nobleman in appearance as physically possible. Long light hair? Check. Blue eyes? Check. Slender build? Check. The only thing he lacked was a condescending smirk and shit-ton of money.
Though to be fair, being tall and stick-thin was the only thing that even remotely gives any hints that we are siblings. He was also incredibly fragile when it came to his health. In addition, somewhat unlucky. Those two things are probably connected. Probably.
I remember that since I was little that Lio was constantly not home as well as my parents. After we hit 10 everything became much better and he was finally home most of the time. He still sometimes goes through regular check-ups on his condition, but Lio now lives a quiet and happy life. Well, as quiet as you possibly can in Brockton Bay.
However, his appearance and health problems were not really a thing that rubbed me the wrong way. What was unwavering was the look in his eyes. You know that sometimes people say that someone's glare is about to burn a hole through their back? Well, I was pretty sure my bro was easily capable to accomplish such a "grand" feat. And I am not being dramatic. I remember one time when some thug tried to rob us and he nearly pissed his pants from the look that Lio gave him. I caught only a glimpse of it, because Lio shoved me behind his back to protect me. However, even a tiny glimpse was enough to understand why the guy ran away in deep terror. At that moment, his eyes lacked any concept of empathy and there was probably a feeling like at least a dozen snipers targeted you.
Since that day, I decided not to argue too much with my brother. Not that we argued all that much, which was another strange thing. I hear all the time that the siblings argue and bicker with each other constantly; the TV Shows also show this and let's not even start on soap operas. And while I can't say I do not appreciate my brother's calmness and, hah, maturity, it still feels strange in some ways. Either it's like he does not take me seriously even one bit or he just doesn't care. I am not sure which of them I prefer myself, but obviously not the first answer.
Lio most of the time didn't even attempt to talk with others in school, standing somewhere alone and carefully watching me from the distance. Truth be told, I myself was not entirely sure when his "stalker" tendencies appeared. His somewhat lack of social skills and attempts at self-isolation was starting to ring really worrying bells. So our parents decided to have a talk with him. Then another. And another one. In the end, not much changed and we remained the only people he talks and interacts regularly. Well, after the first talk he tried to make some friends and talk to people but it failed miserably. Apparently people tend to not like you when you sound like their parent at times when they punish them or try to explain why it is wrong to do certain things. Who would have thought…
At least he maybe had some normal and healthy hobbies, you may wonder? Kinda? While I myself like looking at the stars and wonder what the deepest and darkest parts of the universe hold for us, he is a bit too enthusiastic about it. Like, I remember going to sleep once and seeing him looking through a cheap telescope that dad bought him for a birthday and still seeing him looking at the stars when I awoke. On my question, what he even can see when the Sun is up at the sky he answered with probably the longest and most complex rant I ever heard in my entire life. I heard so many words that sounded complex that I swear there was steam leaving my skull thought my ears. He ranted for over half-an-hour and the only reason we left at that is that the moments he stopped to catch some air and clear his throat I darted from the room with grace and agility of an elephant.
And then there was his delight in weird and creepy Occult stuff. If he loved Astronomy than he was fanatical when it came to weird "magical" and "cursed" things. The day when he came into the kitchen and demanded from our parents that they buy him an absolutely massive amount of weird stuff and ancient books written on Latin and German was remembered for mainly one thing. The look on our parent's faces was priceless. I can't stop myself from giggling every time I remember the scene. Our parents agreed to buy him some books after dad stopped him from nearly killing the rooster that Lio took from somewhere. Poor thing. They decided that explaining old literature that in some way, shape or form is connected to subjects at school is far easier than answering questions from the police about stolen animals that by coincides appeared to sneak in our basement.
So yeah, he was weird, but he was still my cute little brother.
That now was starring me right in the eyes and somehow managed to enter the room and close the door without me noticing. Creepy. With rarely seen on his face solemn expression he gave me my phone that I lost a few days ago on my walk to school. After that, he came closer to a window in our room and looked at the twilight sky. His gaze was pretty intense as if he desperately tried to find something that was not there, but he hoped he could find it anyway. A thing that I notice he regularly do when he is in at a loss. Windowsill cracked under the pressure of his fingers and before I managed to ask him what's wrong my phone ranged. At this very moment, a bad feeling flooded my mind and with trembling fingers, I picked up the ringing phone. On the screen was displayed a simple contact name "Mother" and her phone number underneath with a relief I answered the call. There was some muffled sound when it came closer to my ear but I dismissed that as another instance of a bad signal.
"Hello, mom, why are you calling? And where are you with dad? Aren't both of you were supposed to return before supper? Also-" Before I managed to ask another question the unknown male voice asked me something that made my heart hurt.
"Are you the daughter of-" The voice was muffled as he was digging somewhere and after a few seconds he continued"- Annette Hebert and Danny Hebert?" I can hear someone mutter a curse and the sound of something dropping.
With a trembling voice and the increasing feeling of uneasiness, I confirmed that yes, I was their daughter.
"We are sorry to inform you that Annette Hebert died in a car crash. Your father is not in grave danger and right now being transferred to the nearby hospital" Before the phrase ended properly, I could feel something blocking my throat with the phone slipping from my weak fingers, and with drowned out sound the phone landed on my bed. My eyes filled with disbelief looked right at my brother's face that warped with so much hatred and anger that I felt fear climbing up my mind.
Before I said another word, I felt something wet sliding down my cheek. Then another and another, in a few seconds I become a sobbing mess, crying in the pillow. I heard a heavy sound of steps and then the weight of my phone disappeared and I heard the voice of my brother. If most of the time It lacked any drive, now it was just cold and filled with barely concealed anger.
"I am Lio Hebert. Their son. In which hospital my father is put?" There was an answer, but at the time, I completely missed it. Shortly after the call ended.
A small pause held in the room. Even my miserable state was rather silent. Then I felt a gentle hand that was stroking my wild dark hair. It was rather mechanical and unskilled as if the one doing wasn't sure what exactly he supposed to do and only seen it performed on others. But still my head snapped and my eyes met the sapphires orbs that looked at me with gentle sympathy and with a plea to be forgiven for something on a level of deadly sin. Before I could say something I wave of calmness overthrown my mind and the feel of being shielded from the outside world. I felt disgusted with myself because I was so weak and that my brother could be sent to a hospital if he is worry too much. When I tried to say something, his pale hand came up and stopped me from talking.
"I am sorry…" He muttered a single phrase. A simple word that broke me completely. I threw myself on his chest and hugged his with all might. I tried to gain some comfort and to contain my own emotions but I was failing miserably as always. While I was crying on his chest with some hesitation, he hugged me back with one arm, and Lio continued gently stroking my hair. My mind slowly started to become blurry and soon I found myself falling asleep. The last thing I remember before succumbing to sleep was the face of my brother filled with the guilt and his eyes that were burning with determination.