Author's notes: A thank you piece written for readers following this story. Second set of time stamps (drabbles), and some of Fay's private thoughts, written in Fay's POV, and not in order with the timeline of 'It's Never Over' verse. Hope you guys like it.

Partly inspired by Placebo's Battle for The Sun.

It's All I Can Give. It's All I Can Have. It's Everything in Between

~ :: ~

"It's only one step away from you, and already, there are miles between our hearts."

– Trial of Ash

~ :: ~

You have dreams that are so real that you think they might have become part of the memories you have, and when you fall you don't feel the wind rushing up to meet you, and you wake with your eyes wide open. Perhaps you aren't asleep yet and you see him walking away, further from you, with a smile that you thought was always yours. His hand is tangled up between a pair much more slender than his. The girl standing beside him soaks up his smile as if she already owns him. You have an image of the world burning away in vivid ambers and gold, as autumn leaves fall around you. And you know you don't want to see your brother's other future in your eyes. So you close them again. This time, you make yourself believe that you're still asleep.

It comforts you that you can be invisible in your dreams.

~ :: ~

He's your shelter. He's there for you more often than dad and mom are. He provides you with nonjudgmental wisdom, which you translate from his monosyllabic grunts when he's not in the mood to talk. He speaks the truth only to you and you know it when you look into his eyes. He's always the one blamed for everything. He's always the one who gets the worst punishment, even when it's your fault. Everytime he gets the brunt of daddy's wrath, you're not sure if you feel more relived for being able to get away with it, or exasperated and guilty for the fact that you never seemed to get your fair share of the castigation. You guys were partner in crimes. Doesn't it make sense that if you share your bounty with each other, you were also supposed to share the sentence mated out by dad? He's never upset at you when it happens. He ruffles your hair, swings you easily into a one arm hug, laughs everything off, kisses you on your temple without thinking too much about it, and tells you that it's his duty as a brother to take care of you when you let him know what you're thinking about.

~ :: ~

Girls were supposed to be nice, gentle…basically sugar and spice and everything nice. That's why you have to be the gentlemen and treat them right. Mommy always says that to you. But you can't help throwing the teacup in your hand across the room and saying that girls are whiny and they invented cooties, when Lindsey started introducing you to her teddies seating around the both of you as her future husband to be. She stared at you in shock for a moment before she bursts into tears as you scowl at her stubbornly.

Mom interrupted her conversation with Lindsey's mother when she heard the commotion, came into the room frowning at what she saw. She tried to make you apologize later, after she reprimanded and explained what you did wrong. You offered a cookie from your bag instead, because, although you're not sorry, you do feel bad for making her cry. She really wasn't that bad in the first place.

Both of you turned out to be really great friends after that, and a few months later, she started pestering Jake to be her boyfriend. You were thinking that she's mightily fickle for a girl of only seven. She was the first person you came out to when you turned sixteen, when she just broke up with her latest boyfriend. She turned her back on you later, two years down the road, when she found out who exactly you were crushing on.

You never really trust a girl from then on.

~ :: ~

You were thirteen when that indescribable feeling within you becomes tangible and grips at you, a disturbing knowledge. You are not sure in it's entirety but you definitely know that feeling is very, very wrong. You thought of talking to your mother about it, but you sense it's not a conversation that will be welcomed by her, or any one else for that matter. So you left it alone, let it turn ambiguous and squirmed in the discomfort of having to keep a secret. You deal with it, fearing it like how any thirteen year old would feel when traveling alone on a dark road, going nowhere. And the secrets kept piling up. It's not until you're fifteen that the door safeguarding them splinters and gives way. It's a sacred sexual awakening for you. It also left you with an inkling that he is what you can never have.

~ :: ~

Men in tights…and you're not thinking about those goons from the movie.

A man in tights, your brother specifically. Naughty thoughts you shouldn't be entertaining right now floats about in your mind. It's probably more appropriate to jab and sling mud at him right this moment, accuse him of looking dorky or frilly and make corny jokes about men in tutus. Lame ass comments that are innocuous and safe. But you stop breathing instead and feel your heart pound against your ribcage. You're suddenly aware that you're starting to act like the freak that you are when he turns around, and starts making funny poses in front of the mirror. You turn frantically behind, reaching out for the knob on the sound system to turn up the volume, desperately hoping that the music will provide enough distraction for you before you show signs of a physical reaction that will be severely embarrassing for the both of you. You burn when you feel his hand slide along your neck into a gentle grip with his thumb ghosting up and down along the back of it, his way of calling you to attention. It stricken you to know that no matter where you are and what you do with him, the need to run is always there.

You wish there was a start where you could run back to. To that time when he was still a brother to you, tucking you in beside your favorite Eeyore's plushie when you refused to fall asleep because you believe there's something waiting to jump at you from outside the window. All you ever do now is run in those big wide arches, never ending circles, escaping far away till you turn another corner and he's there again, waiting to catch you and full of worries for his baby brother.

~ :: ~

It's hard to breathe when you can't extricate yourself out of his life. You think of the sacrifices you will have to make and your parents all the time. It's impossible to sift through the choices, simply because there aren't any that will spare you the pain. You've watched him your whole life, and you're not sure if it's worth the pain to walk away from it all. Everytime you see him, there's a world of words you would like to say to him, they form in rapid fire speed, without premeditation in your mind but before you understand what exactly you're trying to say to him, they get stuck somewhere in between your vocal chords and died away seconds before they can come tumbling out of your lips. You end up with awkward pauses and cold cordial greetings instead. But you think it's alright this way. There's too much distance between both of you already.

~ :: ~

Your father cradles his hand in his another hand looking confuddled, and you look at him feeling pretty much the same way. The difference is, you know exactly what got him so worked up. It's just that he has never raised a hand at you before. Never, not once, even when you see the love he has for you suddenly fade away all those years ago. But you guess you might be pushing your luck a bit too much this time. Letting your parents catch you going down on another guy isn't exactly the best way to come out to your family.

You still feel the burning sting of dad's hand on your cheek but it's not until you hear the words that you started crying. Mom's standing between the both of you still trying to make sense of what she's seen and heard, while he stands behind dad ready to stop him from hitting you again. You can see the disappointment, betrayal and everything else in his eyes, and somehow that makes it hurt all the more. You feel more devastated by what you see in his eyes than the sadness in your mom's, than the anger in dad's. A whole winter would have passed as you and your family stands in the middle of the living room. It's everything unspoken that screams the loudest, and you can feel the shattering of your life and theirs starting in your head first.

In the end, he's the one who tells you to leave.

That's when the crackling starts in your head.

~ :: ~

You heave your backpack further up your shoulders and gaze at the montage of photos, framed and hung against the wall as you walk down the stairs. All sorts of memories plastered against that one long wall, years worth of family stories captured in frozen seconds, an illustrated compilation of the McCann family.

Your eyes lock on to various snapshots of him looking at you with curious eyes and you are all snuggled up in your cot wrapped in a baby blue blanket, another of both of you under a Christmas tree tearing away enthusiastically at gifts as he watches you with expectance in his eyes. You remember the gift in your hands, captured by mom's amateurish photography skill, was given by him. There is another photo of the whole family together, and your face is caught in mid-scrunch like you are about to cry, you can't remember anything about that photo, but the look on his face warms you up.

Your eyes roam over another photo, and another, and another. Every single one of them tells of the bond between you and him, a bond that no one will ever come close to forging with you. But right now, he could watch you walk away, right now, and not know how badly you are breaking up inside. You can't bring yourself to continue that thought. It will impede you. You tear your eyes away from the wall of memories, ran down the stairs and stop yourself from looking back. You need to get away, be alone and try to forget this feeling. As long as you're away from him, you can hope for a life. And you are not going to think about how terrifying it will be without the shelter he provides, without the small hideaway in the cover of his arms, to not think about the cold outside as your eyes focused on your lonely shadow that stretches on the floor in front of you.

~ :: ~

You let the music drown out the other thoughts in your head, ignoring the leering stare sliding up and down your body as the club owner watches you dance. You know he's not bothered about what are you performing. You know he will say yes even if you're only just swaying your hips to nothing. Your body's made for sin and it's a knowledge you use to your advantage.

It's slightly insulting that he's no longer focus on what you're doing, so you thought you might as well get straight to the point. You untangle your legs from the pole of steel you've been gyrating against for the last fifteen minutes, jump down the stage and saunter towards him. You see his thin lips curling into a sneer and your mind changes tone just seconds before you kneel down infront of him, wondering for that one moment if you could do this any other way. But you're running out of options, out of selling yourself on the streets to strangers, this is the closest thing that could get you a few quick bucks to pay for your rental for that sleazy excuse for an apartment. You don't hesitate as you unbuckle his pants, pull down his briefs and swallow him whole. The odor of his musk threatens to choke you, so you close your eyes and imagine that it's your brother's that you have in your mouth, that those grunts are not the man standing over you, but your brother moaning in pleasure instead.

It's a degrading act but it's liberating all the same time. You used to only dip yourself into this black pool with your fingers, fearing the consequences of loving someone who is family, but now that you're no longer home, you sink and luxuriate in this black sludge, out of your constraints and free to think of your brother as who he is, just a man whom you love.

~ :: ~

You lift the blinds and feel the room heat up from the sun. It's late in the afternoon and you still have a few more hours before your shift starts. You are not sure what to do to pass the time, and your idle mind started wandering. You look at the apartment you're currently living in; it's an upgrade from the previous one, but no better. What you're having can't even be considered a lifestyle when you're scraping and scrimping pass just right about there every day, but it's something. It's been seven months, you're still breathing, flesh and blood.

The mobile lies beside your head on the pillow, you sigh softly as you turn away from it. You called home yesterday, drunk and steering out of control with the cocktail of pills you've consumed. You're silly like that, when you believe that knocking yourself out cold will make you stop thinking about what you have lost. It's the opposite instead. You feel lonelier than ever, weak and miserable. Your brother was the one who picked up the call, and you're not sure what you could have said to him in the state that you were in. But you remembered very clearly the intonation of his voice. You can tell he misses you as much as you missed him. You cling on to that feeling, that flood of warmth in his voice, taking comfort in the fact that he hasn't deserted you like you thought he had. But everything that concerns your brother is achingly bittersweet; every single act of affection and care lifts you up and brings you down at the same time.

You lasted three days before you make another call, to your brother's mobile instead of the home line. Your brother initiated the next call, and it continues with both of you calling each other back. You love the way he says hi in his raspy, deep voice when you call in the middle of the night, waking him for that short interlude, and you know he's more than glad that you call than irritated at you for waking him up, so you kept at it. You also started cutting off the recreational drugs, preferring to be sober when you speak to him. Each conversation resumes in uncomfortable pauses, halting words of concern, then the usual banter which both of you used to engage in. It took a few weeks, but normality is returning. For once, you allowed yourself to think that everything is going to be alright. That you can do this when he's not in your life everyday, when that distance is between the both of you.

That is until one morning when you find him beside you in your bed, and you're feeling the effects of one of the worst hangovers you've ever experienced.