January 12th 2002

Seamus had not understood why Dean insisted on having a telephone. Every time it rang, it seemed, it was just a telemarketer. But Dean insisted that they needed it. While his family loved that he was a wizard, they did not like using owls to communicate. Primarily because it was a one way communication since they didn't have their own owl. If they wanted to tell Dean something, they had no way of doing it. Hence, the telephone. Since they bought it the week after they moved into the apartment, Seamus had made fun of it every time Dean answered the phone and got a telemarketer.

So when the phone rang on a bitterly cold day in January, Seamus was ready to crack a joke over as Dean went to answer it. Seamus perched on the edge of the couch in his lazy Saturday pyjamas, formulating a good one as Dean clicked the answer button on the phone and held it to his ear.

"Hullo?" He said, a tone of boredom as he expected the dulcet tones of a robot to answer.

"Dean?" His little sister Sami, who was not so little at fifteen now, said on the other end. "Is that you?"

"Yes, of course it is. What's wrong?" Her tone was worrying him, and his expression showed it. Seamus immediately knew by the look on his face that whatever was coming was not joke worthy.

"We're at the hospital. Alvie's …" She stopped and it was obvious she was stifling a sob, "He got hit by a c-car. Mum wants you to come as soon as you can."

"Is he okay?"

"I don't know. They won't tell us anything. We're just stuck in the waiting room." Sami explained patiently. "Just come. Please. We're all here. We need you Dean."

"I'll be there in a jiff." He said, "I love you, Sam."

"I love you too."

This was how they always said goodbye in his family. He hung up the phone and gave Seamus a serious look. "We need to head to the hospital. I'll explain on the way."

…

A middle aged woman, a twenty something Irishman, and five siblings ranging in ages of twelve to twenty two sat in the corner of the hospital waiting room. Seamus and Dean were both frustrated that they couldn't just heal Alvin with magic, but it was against their laws. If they had not witnessed the event itself, and if Alvie was treated by muggles first then they were not allowed to intervene. Dean had had to sadly whisper this to his mother and siblings who all anxiously thought that he could save their brother. Sami was curled up in a chair, trying to pretend it wasn't happening by knitting frantically. Dean's twelve year old sister, Zoe, was curled up in Dean's lap, asleep at the late hour. They had been sitting around for hours. Fourteen year old Bennie was passed out in his chair next to Sami. Dean, Sami, and Mia were the only of the "kids" awake. Mia, nineteen, was playing Tetris on her flip phone. Dean suspected that, like Sami, she was pretending it wasn't happening.

His mom had filled them in when they got there, "He was playing outside with Bennie and some boys from next door. Their ball rolled into the street and he ran out to get it right as a car whipped around the corner, going way too fast. Your father is on his way home, but he was working up in Glasgow, so it might take awhile for him to get here. They won't tell us Alvie's condition, no matter how much we beg." Her words had proved correct. In fact, Dean's father arrived in the hospital before they had heard a word from the doctor. It had taken him seven hours to drive down, and they still had nothing new to tell him.

It was around two in the morning when a nurse walked over to them. Dean and his parents were the only ones still awake and they jolted to their feet the minute the nurse shifted her eyes toward them and made the first step in their direction. Everyone else woke up alongside them and crowded the nurse. "Well?" Dean's father asked, a not-to-subtle tone of frustration in his voice.

The nurse glanced between the eight people surrounding her like a flock of sheep. She frowned and looked to the ground. Sami and Mia immediately gasped, understanding what the simple look meant. But nobody else would believe anything until she said it. "He didn't make it. I'm so sorry." The nurse muttered, guilt washing over her face. Dean's father nodded slowly, "Thank you, ma'am." He recognized that the nurse was likely new at the job and hated this part of it. He was able to set his own pain aside for a second to offer human compassion, "I know it's not your fault. You're just the messenger. Can you tell me what happened?" It amazed Dean that his father was so composed. Bennie was already collapsed in the chair he had just been sleeping in, his hands hiding his face. Sami and Mia were holding each other desperately. Zoe was sobbing hysterically and his mother looked about ready to fall over. And Dean? He was leaning into Seamus without realizing it. The short Irishman was struggling to not fall over, keeping an arm around Dean's waist to help keep the balance.

"Unfortunately, he was hit so fast that it broke a rib and part of the bone punctured his lung. They tried to perform emergency surgery to patch up the lung. That part actually went successfully, but while they were in there they saw that there was internal bleeding, and it was too late to stop it. Again, I'm so sorry for your loss."

"Your empathy is appreciated, miss. Who can I see about the billing?" His father said plainly as if they had been told Alvie just broke his arm and not that he had just lost a son. Dean could not bare to hear the truth anymore. He turned to his mother and pulled her into his arms. She was a piece of cardboard, weightless and flimsy. She fell into her tall son's arms, not hugging him back — too shocked to do so. Dean's father walked off to handle the billing with the receptionist and discuss what to do with his son's body. Dean's little brother, his youngest sibling in fact, was a lifeless body now. A corpse. Dean suddenly remembered holding baby Alvin eleven years ago. He had just come home from his first year at Hogwarts over Christmas break. When he got off at Platform 9 ¾ nobody was there to meet him for hours because his mother had abruptly and suddenly gone into labor. He waited out the night in a hospital, not unlike he had today. But that night had a far more pleasant conclusion.

Dean wasn't sure how he made it back to his family's home. He was vaguely aware of his body moving, but couldn't remember anything that had been said to him in the past half hour. All he knew for sure was that he was lying in his old twin bed with Seamus curled on a sleeping bag on the floor below. Normally, they might have squashed together into the twin bed, but not when they were sharing the room with Bennie. Bennie was inconsolable. He cried heavily for ages before Dean's brotherly instincts kicked in. He got out of his bed, easily stepping over Seamus who had a pillow squashed over his face. Dean sat down on Bennie's bed across the room.

"Ben,"

"I-I'm s-sorry." He choked out, his voice wobbling a great deal.

"C'mere."

"No. No. I'll hurt you."

"You won't."

"I will."

"Bennie." Dean had no choice but to use his authority voice. Bennie looked up at him in the dark, just able to make out his brother's face. He had been sitting at the head of his bed, knees curled up to his chest and sobbing. But when Dean spoke his name again he uncurled himself and scooted over toward his big brother. Dean wrapped an arm around Bennie's shoulder. "You didn't kill him. It could have been any one of you that went to fetch the ball."

"No, I asked him to do it. So it's my fault." Bennie argued vehemently.

"You did not drive the car that was going highway speeds on a residential street. You did not hit and kill Alvie. You did what both of you have done countless times, ask the other for a favor. You did not kill him." Dean insisted firmly, squeezing his brother's shoulder. Bennie looked up at him through his watery eyes and nodded, the tears spilling over onto his cheeks. Dean awkwardly hugged his brother from the side. "Listen," Dean whispered, his tone softening dramatically, "You're the only brother I've got left now. We have to support each other through this, okay? I know we were never as close as you wanted us to be, but that changes now." He knew full well that Bennie disliked Dean always being off in the wizarding world. "If you need me, you tell me and I'll come running, Bennie. I couldn't bare to lose another brother. I know this is going to be hard for you especially, but you have to promise me that you will take care of yourself." Bennie nodded slowly, still staying quiet. After a while the brothers separated and Dean stood again, "I love you Benjamin."

He could see his brother smile weakly and heard his dry laugh, "Shut up, Dean." It had been a long running family joke to never call him by his birth name. Just like Alvie, he hated his given name. Alvie and Bennie had always given Dean grief for having the "easy" name that didn't need another form. He reached out and hugged his brother properly one more time, "Get some sleep buddy." He murmured before finally letting him go. He lied back down in his own bed and tried very hard not to think about his dead brother lying on a bed of ice somewhere in a hospital, waiting to be buried. But the minute he tried not to think about, he was thinking about it. He tossed and turned all night, only getting a wink of sleep here and there.

The next morning, the family had progressed in slightly through their grief. Dean's father cooked a full breakfast of pancakes and bacon, and each plate told a different story. His father's plate was cleaned off at a regular pace. Seamus' food slowly found its way from the plate to his stomach, though somewhat reluctantly. Dean's plate remained half eaten before he abandoned trying to eat. Bennie didn't touch anything. Mia stabbed her pancakes aggressively and chomped down bits of bacon, though she didn't seem to taste anything. His mother was almost constantly crying, though usually quietly, and a few tears even dripped off her chin and onto her food. Zoe and Sami's plate matched Bennie's — untouched. Zoe seemed to be staring off into space, looking pained while Sami was knitting under the table.

"We've planned to have Alvie buried tonight." Dean's mother choked out as half of the plates were emptied. "I can give you each a twenty to get something black if you don't already have anything suitable. I know this is hard on … all of us, but we have to lay him to rest properly. It's what he deserves, so I expect you all to be there." Dean wondered, vaguely, what a funeral was like, having never been to a muggle funeral in his life until then.

...

It was terrible. Everyone's misery just seemed to increase his own. He desperately relied on his pratner through this time. He held Seamus' hand through the majority of the funeral proceedings, save for when he was a pallbearer with his siblings. When they sat in their pews in the church (which Dean had not attended in a decade) Dean grasped Shay's hand again and whispered under his breath, "Remind me to send an owl to the Weasleys later."

"Why?"

"I need them to know that I understand their pain now." Dean said earnestly. It was true, he now could painfully empathize with the unexpected loss of a brother. Seamus just nodded, making a mental note to indeed remind him later. In the meantime, they sat through various speeches in front of Alvie's (closed) casket. It was an unfashionable affair, given that the family didn't have much money, especially not after paying the bill for the surgery that did not save Alvie Thomas' life. The casket was nothing more than a pine box, not that it really mattered at all. Dean doubted the dead cared how they were disposed of. He listened to his parents speak, but tuned out everyone else. Some of his school friends and a teacher spoke about how he was such a sweet young lad. Dean didn't want to hear what he knew was already true: his brother had been a wonderful little boy and now he was dead and would never grow to be a magnificent adult.

The rest of the day was a blur. He vaguely remembered throwing dirt onto the too small coffin that was put in a six foot deep hole. He remembered holding his mom again, and he remembered his stepfather finally breaking down in tears when he thought nobody was looking after the funeral was over. He remembered reminding Bennie to call him if he needed him, no matter what. But he didn't quite remember anything in between. As he laid in his own bed at home to sleep for the night, he realized that he had not eaten anything. He decided against eating anything at such a late hour. Instead he laid his head down on his pillow and stared at the ceiling as Seamus finished showering in the bathroom down the hall.

Finally, in this quiet space where nobody could hear or see him, Dean prayed. He did not clasp his hands, did not kneel before his bed, did not look out the window at the sky. Instead he simply shut his eyes and let his thoughts into the world, hoping his God would find them. Please watch over Alvie. And Alvie, if you can hear me somewhere out there I want you to know how much we all miss you. You were the baby of the family, and I'm sorry I won't be able to see you grow up anymore. I'm not going to forget you Alvie, I promise. Be good wherever you are. If it's in fact Heaven, please listen to the rules. I don't want you kicked down somewhere else just because you decided to prank Jesus or something. I love you so much Alvie. Goodbye. He did not realize that tears had streamed from the corners of his eyes down his cheeks and into his pillow. He also did not notice (as his eyes were shut) that Seamus had walked in the room shortly after he had finished silently saying his prayer. He heard a footfall on the carpet and he blinked his eyes open to see Seamus standing at the foot of the bed with a towel around his waist.

"Are you okay?" He asked seriously.

Dean nodded slowly, "I think I will be."

Seamus watched him closely for a moment before finally nodding, seemingly satisfied that Dean would in fact make it through this grief. Dean rolled over onto his side, shutting his eyes again. Within a few moments he felt Seamus' arm around his middle, pulling himself closer to Dean. Dean giggled a bit, "You know this probably looks ridiculous."

"What? I'm just trying to comfort."

"I know, but you're so tiny and I'm so tall and you're the little spoon." Dean couldn't help but laugh as he tried to imagine the bird's eye view of this.

"Well I'm glad to see you can still laugh. At least it hasn't broken you down that much." Seamus said seriously, kissing Dean's bare shoulder as he cuddled up close to him.

Dean realized he was right. He had not laughed until then. It felt wrong to do it, but he knew deep down that it was okay to laugh in the face of pain. He let out a deep sigh before allowing himself to relax. His muscles loosened and he slowly fell into a dreamless sleep.