Brella 48: I called you at 2 am cause I need you
For those asking about making Star Crossed a full length fic, you'll be happy to know that I plan to. It won't be out til I finish Safe and Sound, but I promise you'll get it eventually.
Brandon gently lowered himself onto his bed, his fingers gripping at the edge of the mattress to hold him steady. He tried to regulate his breathing, but his breath continued to come in short, ragged gasps. It felt like his heart had dropped into his stomach; like it had displaced his supper, sending it back up his throat. He wanted to puke, wanted to shout and curse and cry, but nothing came up. Somehow, he found himself curled up on his bed with his temple resting against the cool metal of his phone, right on top of his bundled standard issue blue Red Fountain blanket where he'd dropped the phone a few minutes earlier. At least he thought it was a few minutes.
His mother had called. He'd been so happy to hear from her until he heard the choked sobs that she was trying to stifle. His mother – a pinnacle of strength in every way, shape and form – barely managed an intelligible word between the gasps and whimpers. Something about one of his sisters, that much he'd caught. There'd been some shuffling, and then his father's voice, strained but clear. Margie – his youngest sister – had been hit by a car. She'd been playing soccer in the front yard and had accidentally kicked her ball into the street. The old man behind the wheel hadn't seen her coming; she had appeared from behind a parked car too close for him to stop in time.
Brandon had wanted to hop on the first flight home, but his parents had refused. It was the middle of finals, he needed to be at school. His father had insisted that Brandon had worked too hard to flunk his last finals and not graduate. Brandon didn't care – he had a guaranteed job with Sky anyways – but he didn't dare disobey his parents. They would call once the doctors have them an update. It was all they could do for now.
He hated it; hated that he was stuck here. Margie was his favourite of his four sisters, partially because she was too young to torture him like the others had, but mostly because she had that something that he loved. A joie de vivre he'd heard Stella refer to it as. Margie's laugh was loud and honest; she was bubbly and kind. Of course, she was only seven and the world hadn't tried to hurt her enough yet, but Brandon had a feeling she'd maintain her sunny disposition even when it did. Margie reminded him a bit of Stella if he was honest, right down to how stubborn she could be. How many times had he told her not to run into the street? Surely more times than he could count. Still, typical of her, she didn't listen. And look where she was now.
And look where he was.
Curled up in bed, unable to help her.
Useless.
Terrified.
Brandon's eyes snapped open. It was dark, and the clock on his bedside table read 1:37. He could hear Sky snoring softly on the other side of the room, blissfully unaware that Brandon's world was falling apart. Somehow, Brandon had ended up in his pajamas. Somehow, he had ended up in his bed. In the back of his mind, Brandon knew he must have decided to try to get some sleep, but he had no memory of any of it. Everything after hanging up was a blur.
Half asleep and stumbling in the dark, he found his way to the common room. After tossing aside the gaming remotes that always seemed to be left on the couch, Brandon took a seat. He pushed aside the books that Riven left hanging on the coffee table and put his feet up. Luckily, he'd thought of grabbing his phone on the way out of his room. He dialed his mother, father and sisters' phone numbers. Nobody answered. Nobody. How could nobody answer?! It was barely past supper time on Eraklyon! He desperately needed an update on Margie, even if it was just that nothing had changed – at least that meant she was still alive.
Brandon dropped the phone onto the coffee table and lowered his head into his hands, gasping in surprise when he felt the water on his palms. He hadn't noticed that he was tearing up. The realisation broke the dam, and the tears that had refused to come earlier flowed freely and abundantly now. Brandon managed to stifle any whimpers that might wake the guys – though it wasn't likely since Timmy and Sky slept like rocks and, knowing Riven, he and Musa were off somewhere breaking curfew for the sake of a quick fuck.
He hadn't even realised he'd picked up the phone and dialed until he heard Stella's sleepy voice in his ear. The wracking sobs gave way to a steady, gentle stream of tears. Even groggy with sleep, her voice always seemed to soothe him. Riven said Stella's voice was annoying and high pitched, but Brandon disagreed; he found her voice bright and cheerful. He loved her voice.
"Brandon?" she repeated, worry seeping into her beautiful voice. "What's going on?"
He had no idea where to start.
My sister's hurt.
"Hello?"
I'm worried.
"Brandon?"
I'm scared.
"Is something wrong?"
He cracked. The sobs shook his body again, and he had to cover his mouth to stop from screaming and waking the whole school.
"Brandon?" He could hear her panic overwhelming her tone, taking her voice from sleepy and light to high and desperate. "Talk to me. Please."
I need you.
He tried to speak but he couldn't. The words died somewhere in his throat, suffocated by the sobs and whimpers. He hung up. There was no point in keeping Stella up to force her to sit in silence. She needed to sleep; she was in the midst of her final exams too.
A knock on the balcony door scared him out of his haze. He had no idea how long he'd sat on the couch staring at nothing. He'd been vaguely aware of the sound of someone trying to sneak through the halls; of water rushing through the pipes as someone took a mid-night shower; of the moans coming from one of the adjacent dorms; and the pounding on the wall accompanied by a voice demanding the lovers shut the fuck up. But the span of time in which that had happened, Brandon had no idea.
Brandon grabbed the nearest thing he could find that would serve as a weapon – the TV remote, not useful but it would have to do – and slowly approached the door. He slid back the curtain that covered the glass door and nearly dropped the remote when he saw who was on the other side.
Wasting no time, Brandon opened the door to let Stella in. She de-transformed before entering and Brandon was surprised to see that she was in her pajamas with her hair in a messy high bun. He'd seen Stella in her natural, not dolled up state on more occasions than he could count, but he'd never known her to leave the safety of her dorm without looking like a top model.
Amber eyes fixed their worried gaze on him as her hands found their way to his cheeks, brushing away the dried tears. Stella wrapped one of her hands around the back of his neck and pulled him into a hug. He could smell the residual perfume that lingered on her; the sweet scents of rose, jasmine, sandalwood and vanilla filled his senses, and he happily let them. He wanted nothing more than to bury himself in the safety of her arms and not come out until he knew the world was as it should be.
Brandon's arms wrapped around Stella's small waist and pulled her as close as physically possible. There, in the warmth of her, he let himself break on purpose. Stella ran her hands through his hair while she let him cry, planting light kisses on his shoulder, neck and ear. They stayed like that for a few minutes until Brandon's tears subsided and he reluctantly pulled himself away. Stella didn't let him get too far, though, as she gripped his arm and gently dragged him over to the couch. She sat at the end, dragging him down with her and resting his head on her chest so that she could wrap her arms around his shoulders.
"What happened?" Stella asked quietly as she waited for Brandon to adjust into a laying position and return his head to her chest.
"Margie was in a car accident" he managed. His voice sounded weak and broken to his own ears, he couldn't imagine how bad he sounded to Stella, but she didn't seem to care. She held him tighter and kissed the top of his head without saying another word. Stella knew how much he loved his family, especially his youngest sister, and he knew she understood how devastating the news was to him.
They didn't speak for the rest of the night. Stella continued to hold him until he fell into a restless sleep, and she fell asleep soon afterwards. Brandon's phone woke them just before 6 when his mother called to inform that Margie was stable and would likely make a full recovery. Even then, Stella didn't let go and Brandon didn't ask her to. He would happily stay in her arms until the end of time. Or until one of them needed to pee.
