It takes him 4 weeks and 2 days.
4 weeks of endless phone calls, letters and showing up to random government offices dotted about the country..
But finally he has it.
Standing in the driveway of a small red-painted wooden house, Willem glances at the piece of paper in his hands. This should be the right address.
Ringing the doorbell he takes a step back and waits patiently.
He can hear someone running down the stairs, but nothing prepares him for the sight that meets him when the door is opened.
A young boy with the hair of an old man stands in the doorway with such a bewildered expression it would have made Willem grin in a normal situation.
But this isn't a normal situation – and the teenager in front of him is no ordinary boy.
Willem takes a sharp intake of breath in surprise as he almost stumbles backwards. The boy from the picture has grown up. From a shy smiling 7 year old in the old picture to a confused boy of 18.
Yet there is no doubt it's the same person.
And there is no doubt this is Erik's younger brother.
"Emil?" Willem shakily manages to ask.
The boy nods and looks up at the taller male with a mix of curiosity and worry.
Willem can't hold back, with quick movements he's warped his strong arms around the young male's waist, effectively picking the teen up from the ground as he hugs him tightly.
Emil stiffens in fear and tries to push away from this stranger hugging him.
"Let me go!" he shouts and tries to wriggle free of Willem's strong grasp.
As suddenly as the urge hit him, it is gone and Willem becomes aware of what he's doing and quickly puts the boy down.
The second Emil's feet touch the ground he scurries back inside and slams to door in Willem's face.
He stands there bewildered for a moment before he slams his fist against the door.
"No! Come back...I'm sorry! Please..."
His breath hitches in his throat again – Emil looks so much like Erik.
His hair is a good few shades lighter, and his eyes have an almost purple hue to them.
However: disregarding those small facts, the two look very much alike.
The height, structure of their bones – even their facial features are frightfully similar. The Emil standing here in front of him today looks just like the 18 year old Erik from the picture.
Willem's shoulders shake as he bangs his fists against the door again, frustration and anger built up for weeks taken out on the poor door.
"Emil...please. I need to talk to you. Your brother..."
He doesn't get to finish his sentence as the door suddenly flies open again. Emil staring at him with wide eyes.
"My...my brother?" the white haired teen looks confused.
Willem bites the bottom of his lip as he diverts his gaze away from the younger male – lest should the urge to hug him take over his body once again.
There is no easy way to say these things.
"He...He passed away." Willem says quickly. He wants the bad news over and done with.
"What do you mean he's passed away? I knew that already. If you came here to re-open old wounds...then fuck you: You can take your leave." Emil spits angrily, his violet eyes glinting with anger.
"Old...wounds?" Willem blinks. It's been four weeks, not four years.
"How can it be old wounds...he...he died roughly four weeks ago. They said they hadn't been able to inform you."
This time it's Emil's turn to freeze in shock.
"Wh-what did you say?" the anger is gone, replaced by a nervous stammer
"I said that it's only four weeks since Erik's death..."
"That...that's impossible. Aunty and Uncle told me he died 3 years ago..."
"No...they lied to you. Erik's been in the asylum..." Willem swallows nervously. Erik had been right: their aunt and uncle did tell Emil a lie – perhaps to protect the younger boy. That doesn't make it more right in his mind. Especially when Erik was well enough to understand that he was never allowed to see his brother again.
Willem reaches into his bag and pulls out the large leather bound book, handing it carefully over to Emil.
Emil shakily accepts it, opening it's cover to the front page, his eyes darting back and forward as he reads the dedication out loud
"To my precious little brother Emil; whom I can not be with physically, but who I will forever remain loyal in spirit.
Klem
Erik"
Emil's eyes sting as he reads the dedication, even after all those years he can still recognise his older brothers handwriting.
But what makes the tears fall is the date.
"This is...?"
"Two months ago, yes."
Emil sinks down onto the porch, the book clutched tightly to his chest as he cries silently. Willem shifts awkwardly from foot to foot until he finally decides to help the teen up onto his feet and into the living room.
The two don't speak for several minutes.
Willem has had time to process the knowledge of Erik's death. For Emil it's all new again – he needs time, and Willem knows to respect that need.
Instead he busies himself with studying the living room.
It's decorated with a lot of pictures that on closer inspection reveal to be several of Erik and Emil up though the years.
Willem smiles to himself as he traces the figure of Erik in each and every photograph.
The young smiling blonde boy on his first day of school – the proud look on his face as he holds his newborn baby brother and the heart warming picture of the two brothers in front of a fireplace, Erik seeming to be reading a story for his much younger brother.
Feeling a gentle tap on his back, he turns around to face a still sniffling and slightly red-eyed Emil.
"Can I ask you a question?"
Willem nods and motions for the two of them to take a seat.
Emil takes his seat next to Willem carefully, still clutching the large leather-bound storybook as if his life depended on it.
"How did you know my brother?" he finally inquires with an uncertain voice.
"Met him at the asylum." he replies truthfully – too late realising that that was perhaps not the best way to phrase the answer.
Emil visibly shuffles further away from him, eyeing him with suspicion and a hint of fear.
"Hey...take it easy – I'm not crazy." Willem tries to reassure him.
"Neither was Erik at first..." Emil retorts back before drawing his feet up and under him.
Shrugging of his jacket, Willem stretches his arms out for Emil to inspect – the whole process feels familiar as the younger male moves closer to traces his fingers along one of the scars.
"Different wards at the asylum, but it's still the place I met him."
"Why did you come here?"
"Because I thought you had the right to know..."
"He's been dead in my world for the last 3 years..." Emil whispers quietly as he casts his gaze away from Willem.
"And he knew that – and still missed you every single day." Willem frowned slightly and pulled out the photograph of the two brothers "This was the only picture he had...he took great care of it."
Emil blinks as he takes the picture presented to him, the tears from before threatening once again to re-surface as he studies the old and worn photograph.
"I hate him."
Willem flinches at the words – it hurts to hear Emil utter such words towards Erik.
"Yo-you what?" he stammers in disbelief, not wanting to acknowledge what the white haired youth just said.
"I hate him. Or more correctly: hated him."
Willem can't see Emil's face as the younger man curls up around himself on the sofa – hiding his face from Willem as he continues to speak in muffled word.
"He left me...he left when he had promised he never would. All because he couldn't stop talking to his stupid faeries when he was in hospital."
Another piece in the puzzle falls into place. Erik told him about being attacked by a polar bear – it was most likely while being treated for the wounds that the staff found him to be schizophrenic.
Willem carefully reaches out to place a hand on Emil's head, ruffing his hair lightly.
"He never wanted to leave you...several of the stories in the book have one common theme: someone being lost and only wanting to go back home to their loved ones. Erik never meant to leave you,"
"But he still did." Emil's sniffles soften the bitter tone of his voice.
There is no words he can say to comfort the teen – and after several minutes of uncomfortable silence, Willem stands up from the sofa.
"Where are you going?" Emil suddenly inquires as he sees the tall man make his way out of the living room.
"Home...I've done what I came to do...whether you want to see your brothers grave is your decision..."
Emil considers his words but doesn't move from his spot on the sofa.
With a sigh Willem starts to put his coat and shoes back on – this meeting didn't go the way he intended, yet he wasn't sure how it would go from the beginning.
At least he found Emil. And that was really all he promised to do.
And at least he can go home and sleep peacefully knowing that Erik's remaining family knows of his final resting place.
"Hey,"
Willem turns around as he feels a tug at his coat.
Emil is staring at the floor – book still clutched against his chest – Willem waits for the boy to speak. Just like Erik he needs time to find the right words and want to talk.
"Can...can you take me to his grave?"
Willem lets a small smile slip as he waits for Emil to get ready – despite the silence in the car, it doesn't feel awkward anymore. Both men lost in their own thoughts.
He stands only a few centimetres away from Emil as he kneels down by his brothers grave – mumbling something in a language Willem has no hope in comprehending.
But he doesn't have to. He can hear the hurt, the love and the pain of his loss none the less. Sadness is universal.
One does not need a degree in another language to understand someone is mourning.
Eventually he kneels down next to him – mumbling some words at Erik's grave in his own language. When Emil turn to face him with a confused expression and tears in his eyes, Willem only smiles softly and places a reasuring hand on Emil's shoulder.
It's all the teen needs as he goes back to staring at the grave – the faintest of a smile creeping onto his features as he finally understands one thing:
Erik had someone special in his life – someone who still considers him special.
And that's all Emil needs to know. All he needs to remember.
Someone loves his brother as much as he did – if not more.
And god knows Erik deserves such a thing.
A.N:
Oh well. I hope you're still liking this story. One more chapter to go!
Thank you everyone who's reviewed this fic so far. It makes me very happy!
