Prologue

Caleb could pinpoint exactly the last day he had a full night's sleep. He had put on his favorite golden pajamas, was tucked into a warm bed, and was told the next day he was gonna get to pick where they would go to eat breakfast together.

He woke up by himself, he remembered, because he forgot to put the window curtains down and he was hit directly by the sun's rays. He didn't mind though, because he got to watch cartoons he wouldn't have otherwise seen if he hadn't woken so early. He remembered looking over to his sleeping brother next to him, snoring softly, and decided he would let him rest, because his little body was not gonna stop bouncing once he opened his eyes. Instead, he walked over down the hall to his new family's baby's room and cooed at the little being. He made silly faces at him which made the toddler giggle with delight until his new parents woke up and drove them to a restaurant to eat pancakes and ice cream.

He remembered vividly because it was the last time he didn't wake up once during the night.

That afternoon had been so normal. He remembered he grabbed his owl plushie and played with the baby while his parents chatted away in the kitchen. They were trying to help his brother cut some vegetables, after all, they reminded him one day he'd have to make his own food. Even without him. But he didn't seem to need their help. Or at least, that's what he said, anyway.

But most of his attention lied elsewhere. Caleb remembered trying to teach a new word to the baby. And when everyone least expected, he repeated the word. He recalled the way the baby's big brown eyes lit up and giggled uncontrollably when he gasped in excitement. What he had said, Caleb couldn't remember, what did stay with him was the reaction of his guardians rushing over to record them, gushing and showering them with hugs. He repeated it once again for the camera, but he never actually saw the video.

Later that same day he followed a very similar pattern. Although, he opted for matching red and green pajamas with his brother that night. Same routine. Warm bed, neatly tucked with a forehead kiss. Tomorrow a similar promise, except it was his brother's turn to choose.

Maybe he slept too early. Or maybe he just didn't remember. But that night, he woke up in the middle of the night. He rubbed his face a bit and turned to the lump in his bed, his little brother was uncharacteristically quiet. His mouth was dry, so he got up, blinked a few times to adjust to the lack of light (his brother insisted against the night light), and tiptoed into the hall, closing the door behind himself slowly so it wouldn't creek so loud.

Water always felt much more refreshing and comforting at night. Maybe it was the relaxing silence. Maybe it was feeling the cold floor against his warm body. Maybe it was knowing he was in a house with adults who were learning to love him. Maybe it was that he was learning to love again, too.

He dragged himself back to bed, careful with the little body next to him. He smiled. For the first time in years, things were gonna work out. He could rest easy. He hugged his pillow and pulled the covers to his tried to drift back to sleep, but something was… Odd. Out of place. Wrong.

He reached out to his brother to hug him close, but the lump next to him didn't breathe or move. He immediately straightened up. Empty covers.

He relived a panic he had thought he would never have to feel again. How naive.

He rushed ot of his covers, and walked barefoot onto the cold floor. The cold air that was comforted earlier gave him chills. As he reached the living room and he looked at the door to his right his heart dropped.

The door was opened ajar. His body was filled with dread as he shakily pushed the door. The moonlight coming from the window manifested his worst nightmare. He froze.

But of course. He should have known something like this would happen. After all, Philip never took well to change. He never took well to the idea of relying on, living with, caring for someone that wasn't him.

Philip never took anything well, really.

"Philip,"he whispered softly, wide eyed and shaken, "p-put the knife down."

The moonlight bounced off his brother's face, giving his pale skin a ghostly glow. The kid didn't turn his knife away from the sleeping toddler. He had it gripped with both hands, the sharp tip facing down on the crib. The toys in the crib had been snapped for the cord holding them, with the plush's cotton insides spilled over like guts.

"You won't miss him," he assured, with a disturbing lack of emotion in his voice, " I promise."

The little body stirred under him. His eyes were shut tight and contorted into a distressful scowl as he looked ready to burst into agonizing screams.

"Please be quiet and put that down," he repeated in a low voice, inching closer, "I know you wouldn't do this...p-please I don't want them to think there's something wrong with you."

He kept his eyes locked to him, not backing down even a bit. The blue in his eyes that once carried innocence and comfort scared him from how cold and cruel they appeared.

"Because you love them?" The kid challenges angrily, his face red from crying, "if they adopt you and not me, you'll be f-fine? You won't m-miss me?"

"The knife," he repeated, trying hard to remain calm but his heart beat so fast he could hear it. "Give. It."

"No."

"They've tried so… so hard for us," there was a lump in his throat that made it hard to hide the hurt in his voice.

"I. Don't. Care." The boy drew the knife closer to the baby's face.

"He's our brother!" He begged, desperate tears started to appear. Philip's blue eyes seemed to shine a sinister light in the darkness. Where he could fit so much anger and resentment in his tiny body he had no idea. He could feel real venom in his voice when he started screaming:

"I'M YOUR BROTHER!"

The baby erupted into deafening wails. His cries pierced through the room, finally prompting loud stomps coming from the second floor.

"Not him!" He wailed, thrusting the knife dangerously close to the toddler's neck. "Me! Just me! I'm your brother Caleb! Your real, only brother!"

"Why..?" He couldn't hide the resentment in his voice, "do you always have to ruin things..?"

Philip stared silently back at him with a pained expression. He finally lowered his hand, but still had a terrifying grip on the weapon.

"Do y-you not love me anymore?" Caleb massaged his back, trying to soothe the younger child. Philip hiccupped and cried in his arms, his little body trembling, his sobs were soft in comparison to the sharp cries from the baby.

"I'll never stop loving you, Philip," He caressed his hair, feeling his own relief as he released his tears.

Finally his foster parents barged into the room.

He remembered their faces. The lights flared life into the room, revealing what had just taken place. The man was in shock, his first action was to yank the knife from Philip's tiny hands, and remove the threat out of the room, as far away from them as possible. His wife was inconsolable and in tears, she quickly ran and reached for her baby, and tried to soothe his loud screeches.

Looking at the poor woman's distraught face and her husband's desperate attempt to placate her made him sick. These people tried to do a good thing, and got punished for it. Just like the ones before them. And the ones before them. Regardless of his attempt to defend him, he knew deep down nothing could make this right. He knew they tried everything. Therapy. Discipline. Patience. Love. He himself had tried everything.

Caleb knew he had just lost yet another chance at a family. He wasn't so little anymore, so maybe even his last chance. Caleb knew even if they liked him, he could never accept being adopted without him. He couldn't lose another brother.

Caleb washed his face in front of the bathroom sink. He looked at his sullen face and gently touched the dark circles under his eyes.

He hasn't had a peaceful night since.

I'm sorry I know AO3 is where everyone posts now, but why is there no category for CALEB in characters WHATSOEVER ?