Dave had finally learned not to ask me for anything, but I could hear his whimpering from behind the bedroom door. They were small, dry sounds, barely even audible over the whir of the shitty electric fans scattered about our messy apartment, but they grated on my nerves nonetheless. Hadn't he learned not to make any noise at all? Going three days without food should be easy; he was five, definitely old enough to survive a couple days without anything to eat. I had gone weeks without food when I was stuck out on the streets as a small kid and I turned out just fine. If he kept making those pathetic sounds I'd have to drag him to the rooftop for another strife. What a disgusting little –
My mouth twitched into a frown. When had I become so… cavalier towards my li'l bro? I grit my teeth. It's for Dave. It's for the game. No matter the excuse, my actions weighed down on my soul. What a shitty card to draw...
I stared at Dave's closed door for a few seconds longer before retreating to my own room, locking the door behind me. Li'l Cal was propped up on my unmade bed, his shit-eating grin reflecting on the edges of my shades. Throwing myself onto the balled-up sheets with a heavy sigh, I placed my shades on the nightstand and stared listlessly at the ceiling with dull amber eyes. I had been caring for my little brother for five years now, plenty of time for me to grow to love him, and yet a strange sense of agitation nestled deep within my chest each time I saw him, growing and twisting in my gut the longer I spent time with him. It left a bitter taste in my mouth, something reminiscent of bile and rust, acrid and dusty and so, so familiar. Hatred, my mind supplied. But, that couldn't be right, could it?
I could easily recall doting on and adoring him the first few days after his… impressive arrival on Earth, cooing and holding and cherishing the cherubic being I'd have to raise, knowing I'd have to watch him go off to fight in some strange war, still far too young to carry such a heavy burden. I knew that I'd be the one to raise and train him, to hone his skills until he was practically unbeatable, a killing machine with some heart to spare, but I had intended to at least be a little likable on some level, especially while he was still young. When had my intentions changed from "strife with a purpose" and "endurance training" to "unnecessarily cruel beat downs" and "cause as much trauma as possible"? I stared at Li'l Cal, as though he could give me the answers I was looking for, but his glassy eyes betrayed nothing.
A shuffling noise in the hallway caught my attention, an uneven and heavy sound accompanied with labored panting that made warning bells ring loudly in my head. He wasn't supposed to leave his room unless something was very, very wrong. "Dave, what the fuck?" I muttered, slipping my shades back on and flash stepping out into the hallway, katana in hand, Li'l Cal thrown over my shoulder. Making my way to the kitchen in the blink of an eye, I almost missed the toddler lying facedown in the filthy, carpeted hallway. What a pain. At least he hadn't verbally asked for anything. "Oi, punk, what're you doing out of your room?" I demanded, schooling my expression into an impassive mask. Couldn't make it look like I cared. Maybe, on some level, I wasn't really acting.
Instead of responding to my verbal barb, Dave simply lay there, unresponsive. His breathing was shallow and labored and, even more concerning, he wasn't sweating. The strategically placed fans, while helpful, didn't cut through the blistering Houston heat in such a way that he wouldn't be perspiring. "Guess I fucked up a little more than I thought I would," I mused out loud, kneeling to pick up the unresponsive toddler. He's far too light, I thought. Perhaps I should've fed him more last week…
Part of me told me to just let him starve to death, make his miserable life shorter and less bitter, but I couldn't. I just couldn't. So instead I placed him gently on his bed, covered his forehead with a damp washcloth, left a small sandwich and a glass of water by his bedside, and locked myself in my room.
At least no one could hear me cry for the lost companionship with the only person I'd ever loved.
AN: I warned you it might be a bit before the next chapter came out and, lo and behold, it's been at least a week since my last update. Sorry about that, life got a bit hectic as the quarter ended. Lots of projects due, lots of panicking... you know the drill.
I realize that this chapter isn't written with the same tone as the two previous ones, but Bro was fighting me pretty hard on this chapter. Hopefully the damage isn't too bad... and, hopefully, it won't be such a long wait for me to post the next chapters. I have the ideas, but I just need to pick an order to publish them in...
Leave a review on your way out if you feel so inclined, I'd really appreciate it. Thanks for dropping by!
-Dismay