Months flew by. Before the brothers knew it, it was February of 1909 and they'd had their jobs for all most all of a year. They had saved up plenty but some things had only changed for the worse.

Logan grumbled. The one day the mine was closed and he was scrubbing clothes while his brother went to buy and sell some of their stuff.

Victor sighed. Now he was desperate. Everyday that week the bed had ended up wet. And to top it off it'd been like this the last three weeks.

"You want something?" The shopkeeper asked.

"Yeah, I'll take about three, no, four meters of this cloth please."

"That's quite a bit," the man stood to measure it out before cutting, "Anything else?"

"Not today," he paid and decided to stop in the forest before hitting the house.

X

"Do this, do that," the younger of the two belly ached as he hung the clothes to dry inside. Victor striped his legs last time he hung clothes outside during the winter. Didn't want that again.

"Who puts wet clothes out in the frigid air!?" Victor chased his brother around the small cabin with a belt.

"I didn't know!" He pushed chairs in the way to impede Victor's moves.

The elder caught up to him just as he was trying to open the door and leave. He held his shirt and brought the belt down against his rear.

"AH!" he jumped to move out of the way.

"It's freezing out there! Do you know what that means?" he hit him in the back of the leg, "That things freeze! Especially water!"

"AH! I said it was a mistake!" he pushed at Victor, attempting to pry himself free.

Victor caught his leg again before releasing him, "Bring that stuff in and use your head next time."

Logan sighed, rubbing his bottom at the memory, "No need to repeat that… The heck is that jerk anyway?"

X

Victor returned sometime into dinner, "Hey Jimmy." he noticed the trousers hanging in the kitchen and smirked, "I see we've learned something."

"That I don't like having my legs striped," the younger grumbled, "And where have you been all day?"

"Don't mind where I've been," he waved a dismissive hand, "What's for dinner? Bread and veggies?"

"Very little biscuit ingredients," he shrugged, biting into his bread, "Didn't know what you planned on making for the trip."

Victor shrugged, "I'll make some stew and biscuits before bed, we'll need something that sticks for the trip. We just about packed?"

"All we have to do is pack the clothes. I got majority of the food packed away. What are we going to do about the girls?" he looked to the chicken coop.

"Well, they'll do good for stew I guess," he sighed. He loved his chickens but they couldn't be brought along. Too much bother.

Logan nodded, he knew his brother loved the birds but he understood, and he did love chicken, "Well, I've traded places with you for the day and I'm quite tired. You housewives have it hard. And a working housewife at that."

Vic rolled his eyes at his brother, "Alright, you go on to bed, I'm on my way too." He kissed his little brother, "Night."

"Night." he yawned and undressed for bed.

The elder glanced over to him before grabbing the axe and going out to the yard, "Sorry girls."

x

Logan stretched out, groaning lightly. The sun wasn't out yet and he felt heavy. And wet.

He quickly lifted the blanket to see a spot. Again...He looked to his brother, "Wake up, Victor,"

The man groaned, pulling his shoulder away, "I'm trying to sleep, stop shaking me."

"Wake up, the blankets are clearly wet and need to be changed."

"What are you going on about?" he grumbled, pulling the blanket over his shoulder.

"The bed is wet as in you pissed again!" he shook him before getting to go wash, "Ring a bell?"

Victor sat up quickly and looked around, turning to his brother as he stepped over to the tin. Logan was slipping out of his clothes and grabbing some water to wash with. The elder raised the blankets and looked down to the spot. It was big but it wasn't right.

Logan sighed, washing his lower half. He could hear Victor scuttling around and getting out of bed. He looked to the ground, turning and watching his brother pull the blankets from the bed and grab his pajamas.

"Hey Vic?" he started before getting a hot, angry slap across the rear, causing him to jump from the tin and grab his butt, "What was that-?"

"How long have you been doing it?" Victor grabbed his brother's wrist, glaring at him as he held his arm out of the way, "Well!?"

"How? What?" he looked at him, lightly frightened. He narrowed his grey eyes, slapping his thigh, "Ah! What? How long what!?"

"Stop playing me for dumb!" he gripped him harder, unintentionally digging his claws into his arms.

"What did I do?!" he grit his teeth, grabbing his brother's wrist, "You're hurting my arm."

"Is that all I'm doing?" he sounded almost insulted. Without another word he pulled his brother to the kitchen chair, roughly yanking him over his knee, "Talk!" he brought his hand down against his brother's still damp skin.

"Ah! Talk about what!?"

"I won't stop until you start talking!" he brought his palm down again, causing it to sting some.

The twenty-one year old winced, "What do you want from me?!"

Victor slapped away at his brother's wet rear, "I'm barely wet, but your pants are soaked!" he shouted, causing Logan to pause his fighting, "And the spot is more in your favor."

Jimmy winced, struggling and squirming about across his brother's knees as his rear got pummeled, "ok! You're right, it was me!"

"How long has this been going on?"

"I don't know. A month?" He pushed at Victor's knee in an attempt to free himself.

That didn't make the older feel any better. He pushed his brother off and smacked him across the face in a huff. Victor didn't even say anything as he soaked the blankets and Logan's night clothes.

The younger man sniffed, rubbing his bottom and cupping his cheek, "What was that for?"

"Use you d mn head to figure it out." His tone wasn't one of someone who got their frustrations entirely out.

Logan looked to his brother, "I'm sorry. I should've told you, I know. It's..."

"Embarrassing? Humiliating?" He glared, "Only us two would've known. You think I was gonna mock you over it?"

"Well, no. I didn't think that..."

"Well what then? What's your excuse for making me think that I just couldn't keep a bed dry? Huh? That something was more wrong with me? That you were uncomfortable because of me?" He laughed some, "To think I'm worried about you."

"Victor, I..."

"I don't want to talk to you," he glared, "I would've been fine if I knew I was alone in that. I'd have dealt with it. But what hurts is finding out I was just made to believe I was alone."