A/N: Yeah, felt like an angsty sibling drabble... I need to get back to updating. XP Sorry for the wait. Hope you enjoy, as always!
~Penelope
It was raining.
It had been for hours, now… Hours of grey skies, dreary days, with water streaming down the windows and dripping off the panes outside. Just like a scene from a novel.
"Come on, Elliot." Vanessa normally would've pounded on the bedroom door with vehemence and demanded he get his scrawny butt up and out and about. Normally, she had no patience for his muleheaded antics, his violent moods, his sulkish behavior. But normally, Elliot didn't stay locked in his own room for a full twenty-four hours. Normally, he couldn't go five minutes without exploding at something.
But not today. Today was different.
"You haven't come out of there all day! What on earth are you sulking about?"
He clenched his teeth, gripping a fistful of his pillowcase. Of course she wouldn't know. She wouldn't care. Since when had she cared about them?
"Elliot, seriously! Come out! You're worrying everyone!"
Everyone? That came to a grand total of three. Maybe four, if Echo counted, but Vincent sure as heck wasn't concerned. Now that everyone else was gone…
He shook his head to himself, and managed to open his mouth to respond to his sister. "Go away, Vanessa!"
"No! In fact, you know what, you can just stay in there if you want, but then I'm coming in!"
She couldn't. He'd long since locked the door.
Bang. Bang. Crack. The door burst in, busted in, and his raven-haired sister came tumbling in, arms flailing to keep her upright. His brow furrowed at the sight, though he barely sat up from his pillow.
"You broke my door," he deadpanned, glaring at her.
"To heck with the door!" She threw her hands up before storming over toward his bed, planting her fists on her hips. "Have you even gotten out of bed today?"
"Why do you care?" He rolled over and yanked his pillow over his head to drown her out.
She snatched it off, tossing it behind her. "Is this about that grade you got on your exam? That's really pathetic, Elliot! It's shameful for a-"
"Of course it's not!" Rolling onto his back, he glared daggers up at her. Honestly, was she that calloused not to see what was wrong, here? "Gosh, Vanessa, just how blind are you?"
"Blind!?" She went slack-jawed for a short moment before she managed to recover and swat at him. She missed. And he didn't even move. "What did I do!? You're the one acting all angsty and weird!"
"So you assume it's because of a stupid grade?" He folded his arms over his chest. He probably looked like a disgruntled schoolboy, but who cared. "Hence my question."
"What else would it be, huh!? Get up and stop sulking! It's pitiful!"
"You wouldn't understand." He leaned back, closing his eyes.
"Try me."
"How about not?" He rolled onto his side again and went back to trying to ignore her.
"Ugh, teenagers!"
He wanted to remind her that she was only just out from under than category herself. There were a few seconds of silence, and then his pillow whapped him in the back of the head, quite hard. It was enough to make him yelp and sit upright with a jerk, groping for the pillow. It evaded his grasp, and he raised his infuriated gaze to his older sister, who stood over him with the pillow poised to strike again.
"The heck!?" he snapped, clenching his teeth.
"Get up!"
"No!" He snatched at the pillow, but she took steps back to avoid him.
"Tell me what's the matter!"
"Do you really think this is the way to get information out of me!?" He swiveled his feet over the edge of the bed to get after her.
"It's a way!"
"Give me my pillow!"
"No!"
"GIVE IT!"
"NOT UNTIL YOU TELL ME WHAT'S GOING ON!"
"I don't have to tell you anything!" He darted toward her, grabbing for the pillow.
Despite her shorter height, she managed to hold it just away from his fingers. "Then why are you up!?"
Elliot paused, and took a short self-assessment. He was up, out of bed, on his own two feet, attempting to get his pillow back so he could flop back in bed and pretend the world didn't exist. That sounded about right. Still, he scowled.
"I'm up to get my pillow back!"
"Well, while you're up, you might as well talk to me."
"You're no shrink, and you're certainly not my shrink! Now give me it!"
The pillow whapped him across the face, but was not let go. "There. I gave it to you."
He growled through his teeth, seething. "Give it back."
"No."
"How many times are we going to do this?"
"Until you tell me."
He stared at her for the longest time before he turned on his heel and marched back to his bed. He flopped onto his blankets, and used his arm as his pillow.
The entire room went quiet. When he did hear footsteps again, they were softer, slower. He sensed the pillow as it was set down behind him.
"Elliot… You're my brother… I'm just trying to help."
He didn't answer.
"Don't you trust me?"
Again, he kept his mouth shut. No matter what his answer was.
Finally, she sighed. "If you need someone to talk to, I'm still here, okay? We're Nightrays; we need to stick together."
Then, she left. She made no more pokes or prods for him to get up, start his day, nothing; she simply walked out, and closed the door behind her.
He squeezed his eyes shut. How could he tell her? How did she expect him to explain, when years of past experience told him she would only lash out with even more disdain, disgust, contempt? Just like Claude and Ernest would have, just like Fred would have, Vanessa was no different.
How could Elliot tell her that the reason why he felt no motivation to get up today, why he wanted one day to simply not care, was because their adoptive older brother had left? He would be scolded for being ridiculous. He hadn't sulked so when his own flesh and blood had been murdered.
Why would he? They were dead. No amount of sulking or grieving would bring them back. No, he would rather put effort into hunting down their murderer, as limited as his efforts were.
But Gilbert… he'd simply up and left. No explanation. No goodbyes. He just left, in the early morning hours when only the servants were around to see him depart and later report to Duke Nightray of his cowardly retreat. He hadn't come back, either.
At the very time that his family needed him most, Gilbert abandoned them.
That, for whatever reason, hurt more than his own brothers dying at the hand of a stranger.
Those weren't tears stinging his eyes. No. No, they weren't.
It was just raining.
