One brave in battle near a river wise
One search for naught in a darkening sky

We've All Gotta Be Something

At that same moment...

It was the moment Shane had been dreading all night: the moment he would go to Wyatt to discuss their "unpleasant" exchange earlier that evening. Fortunately, the ethic that the Sun shouldn't set on an argument was more firmly engrained in him than his dislike of potentially mushy conversations.

Finding Wyatt in his traditional thinking spot, the roof just above the attic, Shane carefully approached his brother. "So, how 'bout them Nicks; ain't they somethin'?" he asked, indirectly acknowledging the awkwardness of the situation.

Though Wyatt's words played along, his weary voice did not. "Stevie's probably my favorite."

"Ah yes, Stevie Nicks: the warbling Welsh witch herself. I wonder whatever happened to her." Shane sensed that his brother's spirits were beyond lifting, but he didn't like the idea of Wyatt being all alone with his thoughts. "Want some company?" he asked.

Wyatt managed a lazy smile. "Sure."

As Shane laid himself down next to his brother and gazed into the night sky, memories that had slept for years began to awaken. "You know, for someone who used to be afraid of heights, you sure do spend a lot of time up here." he said. "I've always wondered why?"

Wyatt had often wanted someone to ask him that very question. "I think I do it to prove to myself that I still can."

"Sorta reminding yourself it doesn't scare you anymore?"

"Actually, it scares the hell outta me." Wyatt admitted. "But it still helps to know that I can make myself do it."

Though the little boy in Shane would never believe Wyatt was afraid of anything, the young man on the rooftop felt strangely honored by his oldest brother's honesty. "I can understand that." he said, with a kindness all his own.

Wyatt smiled gratefully. "I thought you might."

Those words echoed in Shane's mind throughout the long, slow silence that followed. He felt uncomfortable with any words his mind dug up to express his thoughts; they were either too simple and shallow or too mushy and melodramatic. "Ya know, as much as I gripe about the 'food phrases', I'd give just about anything to have one right now."

"Same here" Wyatt agreed, seeming a bit more in the moment than he had just minutes ago. "Unfortunately, there's no phrase for 'Hey, I'm really sorry for killing our brother. I'm even sorrier that you had to watch. Oh, and that chronic depression you've had ever since? My bad.'"

Shane was stunned at his bluntness. "Food phrase, my ass." he replied. "Any more direct than that and I'd be bleeding from the wound."

"Sorry." Wyatt said sincerely. "I've been wanting to say that to someone all night." He felt like a coward, having been less than honest: "and you just happened to be that someone."

"Nah, don't be sorry." said Shane. "Simple truth, blah, blah, blah..."

"Ya know," Wyatt began, "It never even occurred to me that I didn't have a single memory about him other than the fact he existed."

"Really?" asked Shane, though he wasn't particularly surprised. "not even one?"

"I remember he had a red birthmark on the back of his hand." answered Wyatt. "But, other than that, nothing."

As Shane had feared, Wyatt came to the question he least wanted to answer. "What was he like?"

"Wyatt, don't do that to yourself." Shane said sternly. "Nothing good can come of it."

There wasn't a trace of defensiveness in Wyatt's voice as he asked, "What's wrong with wanting to know what your brother was like?"

Though he hated to admit it, Shane understood. "I only have a couple of memories myself." he said. "I was only six when it, ya know, happened."

"When he died? Was killed? Got strangled?" returned Wyatt "I'm not gonna break, Shane. I'm gonna have to get used to hearing it sooner or later."

Shane reluctantly agreed. "I suppose."

"I know you all talk to each other about it." Wyatt added. "How am I supposed to think it wasn't my fault if everyone's afraid to talk to me about it?

"Be honest with me:" said Shane, calmly and directly, "You do know that is wasn't, right?"

Wyatt answered as truthfully as he could. "My head knows it." he said. "Now if the rest of me can just catch up."

Shane found the reply refreshingly honest. "Fair enough."

After gathering the nerve to do so, Wyatt braved the same question. "Now you be honest with me;" he said, "Do you know that it wasn't my fault?"

When no answer came, Wyatt went on. "I'll understand if you say 'no', Shane. I'd probably feel the same way."

For a while Shane pretended not to notice that Wyatt had turned on his side to face him, but reluctantly he did the same. Then, borrowing Wyatt's words, he answered "My head knows it."

At first, it had been easier to look Wyatt in the eyes than he had expected, but it grew increasingly harder as Shane gave a voice to what he'd always felt, but never found the right time to say.

"You know, I look at Rory and I see a second chance. I can't help it." Shane admitted. "I don't give a damn who says there's nothing I coulda done to stop it, and the next person who tells me I was too little, better start bookin' it in the other direction. Hell, it's not like I don't already know that." After pausing for a moment, he continued, "but the head and the heart, well... They don't agree in that area."

It felt strange to Wyatt to feel both comforted and saddened by Shane's reply.

"Listen hard Wyatt, 'cause you may never get this outta me again, and this mushy crap isn't my style." said Shane with unfaltering honesty. "I will always follow you, Wyatt. If you point me straight to Hell, I'll start marching and I won't ask twice. I wouldn't say it if I didn't mean it, and I wouldn't do it if I didn't trust you."

Wyatt felt warmed by Shane's words, knowing how uneasily such sentiments came to him. At the same time, he knew the rest would be more difficult to hear.

Shane continued. "I can't promise you that the stubborn six-year-old in me won't take the wheel every once in awhile, and I can't promise you I won't say stupid things that I don't even mean, and that you sure as hell don't deserve to hear... Screw what anyone else says; there are some things people don't ever get over and there're some things that not all the damn time in the world will ever change..."

As Shane listened to himself, he started to feel like he was defending his own actions, rather than trying to comfort his brother. "That's no excuse and I know it." he said. "I just dunno how to change it. But I can promise you this: No matter how worked up I get, I'll always come back around to knowing that you're just as innocent as me or anyone else living under this roof, when it comes to Rowan's death. I just suck at this'letting go' crap..."

Shane finally got around to saying it. "I'm sorry Wyatt. You deserve better... and I'll keep trying." he said. "Just call me on it when I slip up." Knowing how unreasonable he can be when he's upset, he added, "Yes, I'll probably throw one of my little hissy fits but... I'll get over it."

As he watched Wyatt's gaze sink down, Shane remembered why he avoided situations such as this one. But in truth, his was the only answer that Wyatt would've believed. "Can we work with that?" Shane asked hesitantly.

It seemed to Wyatt that everything he had ever admired about Shane crystallized in that moment.

"Ya know, something that's always amazed me:" Wyatt began. "I'm five, almost six years older than you are, but you've always had the 'Papa Bear' status."

"Well then stay outta my damn porridge." Shane joked. "Nah. I just growl a lot."

Wyatt laughed to himself. "Do you really think you're fooling any of us with that tough guy act?"

"What do you think?" Shane returned with a challenging grin. "We've all gotta be something though. 'Tough Guy' was the only job available when I was born. The other jobs didn't open up until later."

Since their guards had dropped a bit, Wyatt decided to inquire once again. "So... was he anything like Rory?"

For whatever reason, this time Shane let it pass. "He had that 'thing' that Rory has: the way he can tell you to go straight to Hell and you'd think..."

"You'd been given a complement." Wyatt finished.

"Exactly!"

Wyatt added. "If you've gotten Rory angry enough to say that, you're better off in Hell."

"Amen!" Shane agreed.

"Ya know, the only time I've ever heard Rory actually yell was when he yelled at Chris about the twins that one time." said Wyatt. "Do you remember that?"

"Every... single... word of it." answered Shane. "Scared the hell outta me."

"I wonder what he saw in the future that made him so angry." said Wyatt. "I just can't imagine what Chris could've done to get him so riled?"

When Shane didn't answer, Wyatt knew something was up. "He told you, didn't he!"

"Maybe." Shane answered coyly.

"How? I've never gotten a thing out of him."

"A-ha!" Shane exclaimed, "You, my friend, just don't know how to work him."

"I'm listening."

"The secret of getting information out of Rory is to bug the hell out of him by asking him over and over again until he tells you." Shane said proudly.

"That's the almighty secret?" said Wyatt suspiciously. "Bug him until he gets angry?"

"Well, what do most people do when you get them angry enough?"

After considering Shane's question for a moment, Wyatt began to catch on. "They start to yell."

"Exactly!" Shane replied. "But, since Rory hates to yell he eventually tells you, hoping you'll stop bugging him and go away, thereby preventing any yelling."

Wyatt eyed his playfully devious brother. "Shane, you are an evil, evil man."

Shane mischievously twiddled the moustache area of his short, scruffy beard. "Mwahahahaha"

Wyatt laughed. "Ya know, that comes a little too naturally to you."

"You flatter me sir."

"Now I'll know to get you a cape and a top hat for your birthday." Wyatt teased.

"Hey, we'll put you in a dress, find some train tracks... We'll be all set."

"I'm a size 10." said Wyatt matter-of-factly. "It was this political school deb-..."

"I don't wanna know." Shane jovially interrupted, though he knew Wyatt was pulling his leg.

"No seriously, there's..."

"I said, I don't wanna know."

After the two brothers continued their bantering for a little while, the conversation slowed to a comfortable, natural halt.

"We should probably head to the attic." said Shane, informing Wyatt that he wasn't getting out of that night's meeting. "You'll be fine."

But before they stood up, Shane sat there for a moment, grinning at his big brother.

"What?" asked Wyatt, with a suspicious smile.

"You love me, ya know." said Shane.

"Oh yeah?" Wyatt replied. "Well you love me too. So there."

Shane cocked his head with his handsome smile.

"Damn straight."

note: for those who didn't figure it out, the book, 'Dick-Tea-on-Airy' is a dictionary.