Sometimes where I wonder where the will for living comes from.

It surprises me how long I've had to deal with this and how little I've rebelled against it.

It's like he doesn't even care. Which he probably doesn't. He probably just thinks of me as a meal ticket. A disgusting, quick fuck that he needs to keep secret. And that makes sense. But ever since "this" started, whenever we weren't doing the nasty he was treating me like a retarded five year old.

Of course, I didn't blame him. No. This was my fault. It was my fault that I fell deep in this abyss of love for my own goddamn brother. What was I thinking? Did I seriously expect him to react positively? Did I expect for him to love me back? Did I expect him to follow this adventure of revolution against society, no questions asked?

I was idiot.

I missed the days where I looked at him as a brother, not a lover.

Those days were simpler.

And at least he loved me in one way.

Now…

I buried my face in my hands, groaning in my misery. I had been wallowing in this pitiful sorrow for days, barely refusing to leave my room, not to mention the house. It had gotten so bad that now I was actually feeling sick, puking whenever I dwelled on the topic too long, my stomach flipping, my head aching. I slept a lot of the time, just to avoid the pain. But although the physical pain was gone in my dreams, I could never escape the emotional pain of even Dream Hank giving me the coldest of glares and telling me to get over him, to go back to women, to leave him alone. And when I was awake, the memory of those looks from Dream Hank, so realistic, so vivid, haunted me relentlessly.

I had lost count of the days. It had probably only been about a week or two, but to me it felt like years.

Usually I didn't lose grip on everything so easily. I don't even know what had caused this. Maybe it had been the weight of everything finally breaking my spine and causing me to collapse.

Divya and Jill were, of course, worried for me, thinking I had some kind of disease and trying to keep me awake enough to do tests. But even when I was awake, I gently told them that I really was okay, that I didn't need any tests, that it was just the flu or something. Hank seemed to be avoiding me entirely, as though my very presence irritated him. It probably did. I was a nuisance.

I could hear voices coming from downstairs.

"You're sure you're okay with us going out?"

"Of course I am! Go, have fun!"

"Alright. Call us if you have any trouble with Evan!"

"I'm sure we'll both be fine. Now, go, leave my sight!"

Laughter and the sound of a door closing.

There was a short pause.

And then there was the sound of feet pounding their way up to my room. I curled up, not wanting to be confronted in an angry way – his feet were being pretty loud.

The door slammed open – "Evan!" – and then I could sense him behind me. I clenched my eyes shut and coiled up around myself even more. I could feel my small breakfast – a quarter piece of toast, the rest was on the plate on the floor – rising up in my throat.

"Look, I don't know what you're trying to pull here, but this can't go on much longer!"

I tightened my fist, grabbing the bed sheets as well. My headache suddenly worsened as thoughts of Hank's full hatred and anger directed at me surfaced. Clips from my most devastating, violent dreams came to mind.

"Why don't you just fucking get out of my life?"

A slap to the face.

"Please, Hank, please don't-!"

"Shut up, bitch!"

"Evan, you need to face the facts that we can't do this! We can't be anything! It's sick, it's disgusting, it's immoral!"

"Henry… Henry, it hurts…"

"It should. It is a knife to your stomach, after all." The crackle of a newspaper.

Tears falling down a raw face.

"I'm sorry."

"Good. You should be."

"Henry, please don't do this…" I whimpered, feeling the urge to heave increase steadily.

"Don't do what? Tell you the truth? Or are you too thick to understand just how stupid the idea of you and I is?" He was really losing his temper at this point.

"I love you, Henry."

A violent kick to the chest, disturbing a broken rib. A cry of agony and grief.

"You little bitch, you don't deserve to love anyone."

I grabbed the nearby bucket and threw up blindly into it, feeling tears of terror and pain cascade down my face.

"Oh my god, Evan," his anger was suddenly forgotten and he was next to me, one hand on my arm and the other rubbing my back soothingly. But I took the sudden move as a move to hurt me, and I threw up again. I was surprised I even had anything to throw up at this point. "Evan, what's going on?"

"Nothing, Hank," I whispered in a raspy tone. "Just forget about it. Forget about me. I'll be fine." I set the bucket on the floor and curled up away from him, half hoping he would take me seriously and leave me alone.

"Evan, did you eat anything suspicious? Sleep with anyone from a foreign country?" He fussed over me, trying to find some wound that wasn't on the outside.

I weakly swatted his hands away, feeling a pang in my heart from the fact that he thought that I would sleep with anyone that wasn't him. "Hank, I'll be fine. Just leave me alone."

"As if, Ev. Now tell me, is there any way you could get this sick?"

"Heartbreak," I muttered to myself.

"What?"

"Nothing," I grumbled, turning away from him, trying to run away. Maybe I could stand up…

"Evan, I'm going to need you to cooperate with me. Was there anything? At all?"

"Nothing new."

"What are you talking about?"

I shifted my legs, my feet landing on the floor heavily. I stood up, leaning mostly on the wall, my legs too weak to support my weight on their own. "It doesn't matter, Hank. Really it doesn't."

"Evan, sit back down! You're not healthy enough to stand!"

I attempted a bitter laugh, and ended up coughing harshly. "Hank, I'm not healthy enough for a lot of things emotionally that I do daily. Does it seem that way to you?"

"Stop with the cryptic messages, Evan, you're sick!"

"Well, maybe there's a reason for that!"

My sudden outburst surprised us both. But I took his moment of vulnerability to my advantage. I steadied myself as much as I could on my legs and left everything else to my hands on the wall.

"Yes, it's my fault for falling head over fucking heels for you! But, goddamn, I never knew you could be such a bastard! Yes, I'm your brother! But you went with the sex! I don't see why you couldn't even put a little bit of your heart towards me! But no! All I got was your dick sometimes! I'm not good enough for you! I'm just the reason why you're going to hell! And I know I can seem like I'm cool with whatever you want most of the time! But, for fuck's sake, I'm a person! I have needs! I have a soul, a heart! My sincerest apologies if my love for you repulses you, disgusts you, makes you want to puke!" I coughed again, feeling my lungs quake with the power of my anger, the pain blooming in my chest. "You have my entire heart! All of it! I don't care about anyone else! So if I seem a bit needy and clingy and stupid and thick then I'm sorry! But it's kind of hard to control!"

"Evan, I never knew-"

"No, you didn't!" I tried to step forward, but ended up falling to my knees. "And you never will! Because you can't open your heart or mind to me! I'll always be here for you, Henry, I'll always love you, I'll always be your sick little fuck toy. I may never be a real human in your mind, ever, but I don't care." I grabbed his shirt, pulled him down to my level, relishing in the fear and horror in his eyes. "I hate you, Henry Lawson, and I hate how much I love you."

I threw him away like the piece of trash he thought I was, and turned to my right. I coughed viciously, to the point where I almost expected blood to start specking the floor. I puked again, before looking up at Hank, who had crawled away and was now pressed against the wall, searching through his medical supplies bag. I snarled aggressively again before collapsing and passing out.

My last thought before the darkness consumed me?

I love you, bro.

Well… I didn't expect this chapter to go like this. But now that it did, I like it! It shows a violent side of Evan, which is EXTREMELY sexy! xD

Love sucks, bro. Sorry to say.

But I was about to cry halfway through this chapter! Oh my god, poor Evan! How could I do this to him? I made him a monster!

Oh, sorry about not doing an intro. I just HAD to get this chapter out of my system as soon as possible! It was like, "BITCH I AIN'T WAITING WE'RE TYPING THIS NOW" and I was just like, "FINE BUT DON'T HURT ME."

And then this was created.

Maybe I'll have Hank's shaken reaction next chapter. Or maybe I'll do another random glimpse into their broken lives. Which would you prefer? Tell me in the comments! :D