WhIP

by footfungus

nederlands verhalen over mijn otp

100. Life is Strange 2 Sean and Daniel 9

'we could've been a wicked team'

msmooseberry

Summary:

Sean and Daniel used to be inseparable as kids, but as time passed and they grew older many things changed. Now they barely talk to each other. Sean hopes there is still a way for him to get his brother back, even if Daniel seems to hold a special grudge against him. Meanwhile Daniel knows something that Sean persistently continues to ignore. Is there any chance for them to sort things out before it gets too late?

Notes:

Sean and Daniel are fraternal twins, which means they are the same age but do not look alike.

Special thanks to elfinglitters who discussed the plot with me and made this fic possible!

Chapter 1: Sean

Chapter Text

When Sean walks into the house his phone pings three times with new messages from his back pocket. He can't grab it just yet, not with a heavy backpack hanging precariously off one shoulder and two bags of groceries in his hands. They must be from Lyla anyway, they agreed to meet up with Eric at the street corner and go hang at the skate park. He just needs to get his part of the chores done first.

He strides into the kitchen, careful to balance the weight as he goes, and routinely reaches out to scope the perimeter.

Dad's in the garage, still working on that new order he got two days ago. He's a bit tired, but not to the point where his thoughts start to get fuzzy with exhaustion and last attempts to stay focused. He feels the pull of Sean's mind and concentrates, thinking loud and clear, 'Welcome back, Seanie-boy', before getting back to work. Sean leaves him with an out-of-tune Spanish pop song that resumes running through his head.

He puts the bags on the kitchen counter, pulls his backpack off his shoulder and rubs the soreness out.

Then he locates Daniel, whose presence is easier to miss than a huge bolder in the middle of a perfectly trimmed lawn. Which is his responsibility this week by the way. He's predictably in his room, most likely playing some dumb game on his computer. Although normally when that's the case it's pretty obvious even without Sean's power - each time he teams up with Noah in one online shooter or another his yells can be heard from any corner of the house. Sean idly wonders what Daniel could be up to now, but gets rebuked rather violently.

He sends out a sour, 'Whatever,' and starts unpacking the groceries.

It's not like he wants to be nosy or get into everybody's business, it's more like a ritual, something he's done ever since he was little. There used to be one more person to check up on, but it doesn't matter any more (or so he keeps telling himself), Dad and Daniel can be a handful on their own.

Especially Daniel.

Which probably shouldn't be all that surprising, considering the kind of power he has.

If somebody besides Dad ever finds out about them Diaz brothers, two freaks in a pod as Daniel called them once, and asks if Sean feels like he got the shorter end of the stick with his mind-reading compared to Daniel's super cool telekinesis, Sean will say no. He doesn't. And perhaps he will be lying, but just a little bit.

He takes the vegetables out of the bags first and puts them away in the fridge. He's glad Dad finally started watching his diet, but those detox smoothies he keeps making and tries to convince them to drink as well, ugh, those are disgusting. Good for Dad's health though, so Sean encourages him as much as he can without having to consume a dose of the murky green substance out of solidarity. Once finished, he unpacks the snacks he bought for Daniel and himself. Putting them in the cupboard is a bit of a challenge and he briefly wishes Daniel was there to help, since that extra large box of Chock-o-Crisps Sean picked specifically for him.

Then again, maybe he shouldn't encourage Daniel to use his power more than he already does.

The thing is, reading minds is never quite as obvious as junk going in the air whenever you get pissed, it never gets any shit broken around the house nor sends people tripping over their own feet and falling on their ass in the middle of the school yard (which is a lousy move and absolutely not funny). The most Sean gets when he's overusing his power, and he does that very, very rarely, is a major headache. With Daniel it's always a surprise, and more often than not a rather unpleasant one. In fact, it's a miracle how they still haven't been discovered and taken by some crazy agent men to Area 51. And Sean almost expects to find them banging on their door like a day from now with how weird Daniel's been acting lately.

For one, Daniel's been spending all his free time at home cooped up in his room, shutting out him and Dad like they are his personal enemies. But then he's also been avoiding him and Lyla at school and has taken to skipping classes, two or three at a time, judging by the ones they have together. And as if that's not enough, for a whole month now he's been sneaking out of the house at night.

Sean keeps it secret, he doesn't want to tell Dad yet, but he knows something's up and it's bugging him, keeps him awake way past their curfew till he hears an overly smooth click of the front door (Daniel's not using his keys, Sean can tell). At the same time he's not too eager to confront him. He knows it's stupid, and he should just get a grip and do something before it's too late. And yet every time he gathers the courage and tentatively probes at Daniel's mind, asking for permission (knocking, as they used to joke when they were younger), he gets an impulse so hostile he just leaves Daniel be. And tries to pretend he doesn't notice the buzz in his mind which is a clear giveaway that Daniel's been recently using his power when he returns to class after a whole missed period or from his late night walks.

Daniel doesn't want him to know, doesn't want him in his business, and has the means to block Sean's power, so that his only way of finding out what the matter really is falls short.

Putting away the rest of the groceries doesn't take much longer and when Sean's done he heads to his room. When he's in front of his door, hand outstretched towards the handle, he pauses, turns around and hesitates a moment, thinking to maybe knock on Daniel's door instead. Check up on him. Talk.

He stands there like an idiot for almost a whole minute. Then turns back and flees into his room.

'Fucking coward,' he thinks bitterly.

And he might be reluctant to admit it, but Daniel's coldness feels worse than rejection from the coolest kid in class, worse even than Dad's disappointed glare when he catches them fighting again over something silly. Coming from Daniel, it really hurts.

Because it hasn't always been like this. Sure, they had their rough patches where they didn't speak to each other for several days straight, but it never lasted so long, nor got as intense as it is now. Sean remembers the day he and Daniel got into their first serious fight as clear as he remembers all the little features that make up the few differences between them. It was the day Daniel used his power for the first time. It wasn't pretty.

Sean's room is just the right amount of messy to appear tidy enough so that Dad doesn't give him that silent judging look when he drops by. He walks past his chest of drawers and sinks down into the bean bag with a tired sigh. That's when he feels the phone jabbing him in the butt, which reminds him about the messages. They are indeed from Lyla.

shit got a call from Marcy, gotta cover for her rn, I owe her 1

come by the shop 6 w Eric

i'll hook u up with some rejected drinks and then we'll hang

Sean grins at the screen and sends:

gotcha

they better be smokin

A few moments later Lyla replies:

bring Daniel along and they might be * winking face *

Sean frowns and sends her:

u wish

Then types off a quick message to Eric and decides he has time to do some drawing practice. He leans back to take the sketchbook Dad gave him for his last birthday, but his eyes fall on the stack of old albums that he kept from when he was a kid. He pulls out one of them and flips through the messy colourful drawings, some made by Daniel as well, and his mind wanders again to their childhood.

They used to live in Beaver Creek back then, not far from their grandparents' house. Dad was working at a local (and only) repair shop, oh, and their mother vanished into thin air one day. Sean doesn't like to think of that time, swarmed as he was with Claire and Stephen's fears that something bad happened to their daughter and 'Lord, how would the children handle it, poor innocent souls?', as well as Dad's less articulate but no less palpable grief that felt like he was already in mourning. For Karen, somewhere out there, happy and free without them, or for their orphaned, broken family, Sean didn't know, and was too afraid to ask. Daniel wasn't.

Now, Sean's power was born and slowly grew together with him, from soft tingles of people's emotions when they were particularly strong around him to fully-formed thoughts he caught when he had time to get attuned to a person. With Daniel it always came natural and they had this rumoured 'twin bond' for as long as he could remember, despite them being only fraternal twins. For a while Sean even thought that was something everybody has, and that's when he first started getting incredulous stares at the town market or in day care where Karen left them sometimes. Adults always wrote it off as kids having wild imaginations, but at one point when they went to a convenience store and he said to Mrs Gibbs, who had apparently got off the phone with her daughter not even five minutes earlier, that he was sorry her grandson got in an accident and that 'broken arms are the worst cause you can't draw as good if your arm's in a cast', well, then they had to have a family council in the living room where the extent of his power was finally established.

Six months later Karen left them. Since then Sean never stopped thinking that it might be his fault. Her mind was always a mystery to him, way too vast and hectic, with thoughts running in vague metaphors he could never decipher.

Still, it was probably a good thing she left when she did, because when Daniel started bugging Dad about it, day after day, Sean just couldn't hold it in himself anymore, not with Dad's pain throbbing awfully hard in his own temples. He told Daniel everything. What Dad was going through at the moment, how he 'hurt so, so, so, so much, and then some more – that's how much', and how Claire kept asking this imaginary God person to guide them to the right path after their loss and how Karen was dead to her 'and to us too, she's not coming back', and how everybody in town knew about it and thought of them as 'poor abandoned boys, they didn't deserve it', and just would Daniel stop whining, 'she left us all, not just you'.

After that Daniel exploded. Not literally, but it certainly felt like a bomb going off, he and Dad were lucky to only get a few cuts and bruises. It took out half of their living room, as well as any doubts that Daniel could be packing some sort of power too after all.

Of course, it scared the shit out of Dad, but he and Daniel somehow quickly bonded over the shared stress. They were kids then and everything seemed much simpler. Sean still fondly remembers all the pranks they pulled on Dad together, and the more risky ones they played on their primary school teacher and their unsuspecting classmates. They were still getting the hang of their powers and most of the stuff they did was really silly and harmless. Naturally, Dad taught them against it, even took them 'camping' out in the woods every weekend to help them train precision and control, which really concerned Daniel more than Sean.

Still, Dad laid down so many rules for when they were in town they were bound to be broken, at least twice a day.

Sean felt the strain they were putting on him though, and tried to be the more level headed one of the two of them, but it was so hard when Daniel was suddenly able to do all the cool stuff that he could only dream of. They were having fun and getting caught was like a distant and very improbable outcome Dad brought up to scold them. They should've known better.

Around the time they turned ten a new boy moved into the house next to Claire and Stephen's. Chris Eriksen was a new face in their small boring old town, so they were immediately all over him. Not a day after they met, the three of them were the Spirit Squad, with Captain Spirit (aka Chris), Super Wolf Bros (aka him and Daniel) and a whole team of the ultimately good guys (aka their numerous toys) who fought all evil in Beaver Creek and beyond. Those were easily the best days of Sean's childhood. The fact that Chris also lost his mom was an additional reason why hanging out with him felt so right and natural. They really clicked together.

That's why keeping their powers from him felt a lot like cheating, but it was Dad's Rule №1 and his main condition for letting them play with Chris. They even had arguments about it, long and pointless ones that would normally end with them being sent to their room with no toys or PlayBox for a week. It sucked then, but now Sean understands why Dad wanted them to be more cautious, especially around their best friend.

It went down during the winter break. They had loads of free time on their hands and a limited amount of places to go to. So mostly they just went from their place to Claire and Stephen's, then to Chris' where they played in the tree house the majority of time, and then back to their place again. When Sean thinks about it, he always feels guilty, like he should've seen it coming, because he did see the signs but never registered them right, or maybe didn't want to.

He didn't want to think that Mr Eriksen could be somehow less good to Chris than Dad was to him and Daniel. And so he never asked. What 'wouldn't want to bother him now, he's got other stuff to worry about' meant, or where those inexplicable jabs of fear and anxiety Chris sometimes felt came from when they were at his place and Mr Eriksen was watching one of his matches on TV. Sean got lost in Chris' mind too, because it was always so full of images, of powerful exciting narratives that sounded so captivating but for some reason never revealed the whole story. It had him confused, and when Daniel used to ask him silently what was wrong, he shrugged it off. He just didn't understand.

Until the day Chris' dad had too much to drink.

The three of them just came inside from a long play at the tree house, and once Mr Eriksen heard them enter he started talking. Said some mean and hurtful things first, clumsily wobbling about in the living room. Then he zeroed in on them, on Chris, and his mind in that moment, Sean will never forget how it felt, it was so torn and feverish and helplessly angry at everything and nothing at all, it made Sean's head hurt to the point where he became sick. He didn't mean to, didn't even make it to the bathroom. Chris made a fuss while Daniel hovered over him, going into a panic mode, and Sean couldn't even tell him he was alright. He wasn't. All the ruckus they were making must've triggered Chris' dad because Sean remembers how he was suddenly shouting, and grabbing Chris by the arm, and saying something Sean couldn't make out any more, his head was a pounding mess.

Then Daniel snapped.

Next thing Sean remembers is they were at the hospital, he and Daniel with nothing but a few scratches, Chris with a broken leg, and his dad still in the ER with several broken ribs and a concussion. Claire and Stephen were there with them until Dad came.

Two days later they were packing their things and going to Seattle.

At that time it seemed like the end of the world, to Sean and especially to Daniel who blamed himself most. Later Sean realised they were really lucky the freaky explosion, the second one with the Diaz brothers around, was confirmed to be an accident, a wiring fault that short circuited next to a gas stove, or something like that. Word spread fast in the close-knit community of Beaver Creek though, and Dad couldn't let them stay in a place where they would be the centre of attention.

So they moved. And after that things started to get progressively worse. Between Dad and Daniel, and between Daniel and himself.

Sean stares at the last page of the old album, which is mocking him with the silly lopsided drawing of Daniel, him and Chris all doing the Spirit Squad team signal with their arms crossed.

Oh how he wishes he could do something more useful, like travel back in time. He could've changed so much. Instead he always ends up hearing and sensing more than he signed up for and often has such an overload of negative emotions at the end of the day he feels like crawling under a rock and never coming back out.

He shuts the album and crams it in between the magazines on the bottom shelf together with the rest of his old sketchbooks, like they are a dirty secret he doesn't want anybody to find. He fumbles out of the bean bag and puts on some music to help him stop thinking for a little while. He really needs to relax because right now his brain feels like it's stewing in unhappy memories.

The urge to escape the stress pushes him to grab his last sketchbook and a simple black ballpoint pen. He did want to do some drawing practice after all.

This time Sean settles at his desk and opens the book on a blank page.

His hand moves almost on its own as he's making a rough sketch of a familiar silhouette doing some sort of a superhero stance with one hand outstretched and the other clenched into a fist. Sean doesn't let himself pause and starts adding more details right away. A mop of dark shaggy hair, a deep concentrated frown, shoulders that got just a tad wider over the summer and long limbs that still have that gangly look about them but are already showing a bit of muscle. Sean knows each feature all too well and draws Daniel the way he was last time Sean saw him use his power in full force. They were up one of the state hiking trails with Dad, and Daniel lifted a whole tree trunk that was lying across the path. That was absolutely amazing.

Sean looks over the finished sketch and considers it for a moment. Before he can talk himself out of it he adds a new figure to the picture. He places it behind Daniel and a little to his right, mindful of the perspective and the inch and a half height difference between them. His own short hair turns out a little lame compared to Daniel's wild mane but he moves on, sketching himself holding two fingers of his left hand to his temple in a kind of a Professor Xavier move. As he outlines the rest of the body Sean stops briefly over Daniel's clenched hand, thinks, 'Fuck it,' and follows his imagination, scribbling his own fingers intertwined with his brother's in a tight hold. Drawing the rest feels like an afterthought and he drops it after doing some basic shading and giving them a foresty floor surface to stand on and little twigs and rocks flying around.

The result is somehow both better and worse than Sean expected, and studying it he realises that it's because it hits too close to home, showing vividly what they could've had and probably never will.

The truth is, they only teamed up like that once or twice, when Dad used to train them in the woods near Beaver Creek with improvised equipment that mostly consisted of the old useless junk from their shed. But Dad got creative with it and constructed 'traps' that could be triggered with a pull of string. He set them up in advance so that they didn't know where they were and thus made a good challenge for them. Still, the point was not only Daniel's good reaction when Dad activated this or that trap, but their ability to see what exactly was coming and where from. It was meant to build their teamwork and was secretly one of Sean's favourite exercises.

They did it like this: Sean took Daniel's hand, which, as they discovered at one point, made it much easier for Sean to both communicate his thoughts and receive replies, and they stood side by side waiting for Dad to choose which trap to use. Of course, Dad thought extra hard about it, but it didn't change the fact that they managed to dodge every ping-pong ball, pine cone or plastic bottle that came flying their way. At that time Sean felt they were real superheroes, strong and absolutely invincible together.

They never did it any more.

After they moved to Seattle, they stopped their weekly training sessions with Dad and were only allowed to use their powers when at home or when they went on a big trip to the mountains or to the national park, which happened less and less. Daniel and Dad fought about the new rules and he and Sean grew apart, since Sean tried to be a good son and a good brother at once and miserably failed one too many times. He still does.

Lately Sean catches himself thinking that he and Daniel might not have any connection left between them at all.

He frowns down at the page and writes 'Super Wolf Bros' in bold at the top, and underneath the drawing adds in smaller letters 'we could've been a wicked team'.

A sudden slam of the door across the hall startles him and Sean shuts the sketchbook like he's been caught watching porn. Nobody barges into his room immediately after and he feels stupid.

Then he's curious. Daniel must be out and about for a change, in the kitchen, judging by the sounds of cupboards being rummaged. Sean acts on impulse and goes there to see what his brother is up to.

He catches sight of Daniel just as he is pulling the box of Chock-o-Crisps with his power from the top shelf where Sean put it, not hindered by how high and far it is in the slightest. Sean rolls his eyes.

"Knew you'd have to come out for one of these at some point," he says, noting how Daniel's hand jerks a little when he hears him. He doesn't turn around though.

"Yeah, you got me, they are my one and only weakness," his voice is cheerful, but in a flat, sarcastic kind of way. The box of chocolate bars lands on the counter with a heavy thump. Daniel tears the cardboard open and snatches three bars at once. Sean chuckles.

"I should convince Dad to lure you with them to dinner, maybe then you'd join us at least once in a while," he muses aloud, watching Daniel's reaction. He tenses for a bit above the opened box, then shrugs and shuffles over to the fridge.

"You'd need far more of these for that," he glances at Sean briefly when he says that, but Sean still catches his moody glare. Has the line between his eyebrows always been that deep when he frowned?

"You're probably right, but hey, it's worth a shot," this conversation is painfully strained, Sean doesn't know why he keeps going for light jokes and jabs to get something of a kind out of Daniel. Today it just seems like the right thing to do.

To him, obviously, because when Daniel turns around with a carton of milk in hand and a calculating expression on his face it becomes clear he's not feeling it at all.

"What d'you want, Sean?" he asks bluntly. And Sean is lost.

What does he really want?

"Why, can't I have a friendly chat with you any more?" he panics and goes defensive, crossing his arms on his chest and looking to the side.

"Yeah, right, like I'd fit into your new circle of friends," Daniel's words cut into Sean like daggers and he grips his forearms hard in an effort to contain himself. He doesn't notice how Daniel flinches then, but senses his oppressive proximity when he goes past him into the living room.

'This is bullshit,' Sean thinks, even tries to project it to Daniel, but knows it doesn't reach him. Because his brother is a stubborn ass.

"You know that's not true," he says instead, boiling inside with exasperation. Daniel ignores him, turns on the TV (not touching the remote) and drops down on the couch.

Sean stomps over and flings himself on the other side, bouncing a little with the force of his landing. Then he looks pointedly at Daniel until he has to acknowledge him. It only takes some five minutes and one Chock-o-Crisp chewed in hostile silence, which is interrupted by cheap jolly commercials in the background.

Finally Daniel turns to him with a glare.

"Since when do you even care? I don't remember you being awfully eager to spend time with me in forever," he sounds bitter and pissed at himself for it, and Sean knows he's right. But this time he wants to change something, wants to-

Sean realises that he wants to get his brother back.

"Listen, I know I haven't been there for you lately," choosing the right words is suddenly an immense challenge, especially when there is an annoying shrill argument of two middle-aged white women playing out on the screen in front of them. Sean fumbles for the remote that is wedged in between the cushions and turns the TV off.

"I haven't been the best and most supportive brother, true, but it doesn't mean things have to be like this between us," he continues. Daniel snorts and puts the milk down on the floor after taking a long chug.

"Like what?" his face is neutral but Sean can see the angry fire in his eyes, can feel it pulsing in Daniel's head. It's a wonder that nothing's flying around the room yet. But maybe it's a good sign.

"Like we aren't brothers anymore, like I'm your enemy," Sean says tentatively. Daniel rolls his eyes and laughs, short and sharp.

"You make it sound like I'm the one who wants to control your every move because I'm too afraid of what kind of destructive, absolutely monstrous things my bro can do," his eyes are narrowed and his tone is spiteful, it makes Sean uncomfortable. He wants to disagree, but Daniel beats him to it and, leaning closer, says, "You think I didn't notice how you've been looking at me lately? Are you scared of me? You and Dad?"

"No! Come on Daniel, that's ridiculous," he means it, and it must be showing because Daniel relaxes a bit. It's almost like he was one hundred percent certain Sean would say yes. The idea itself seems crazy to Sean. "We just want to keep you out of trouble."

Daniel's face shuts off again at that.

"Trouble? Right, cause I'm a natural magnet for it," he grumbles and wants to get up, but Sean reacts faster than his brain registers it and grabs his hand. Which turns out to be a very bad idea.

Daniel's mind is a raging mess.

Sean only catches a glimpse of it, since Daniel snatches his hand away in an instant, but that's enough to get the whole scope of his emotions. Amid the whirlwind of jumbled thoughts, 'you've no idea how hard', 'think you know', 'never had it this bad', hurt and frustration are there on the surface, but deeper down Sean saw something much darker - fear of being rejected, claimed a weirdo and cast aside like a broken piece of furniture that nobody's going to miss. He recognises it because he knows it all too well.

"Daniel," he calls. Daniel doesn't look at him, and his whole body is stiff and rigid, like he's trying hard not to lash out. Sean has a weak link with his mind still and grasps at it, channeling his own feelings and hoping that Daniel will get it. He's not alone, no matter what he thinks, Sean will always have his back.

They sit there for a few minutes, and each second that ticks by is a little eternity. Sean expects Daniel to stand up and leave and then ignore him for the rest of the evening. At the same time he desperately hopes that he won't.

Daniel shifts on the couch into a more comfortable position and before Sean can say something to break the heavy silence already a Chock-o-Crisp bar hits him directly in the forehead and falls into his lap.

Sean stares at it dumbly and then over at Daniel, who's grinning from ear to ear and chuckles under his breath.

"You should see your face right now, man, it's priceless," he takes another bar himself and tears the foil open. " stopped working, and just from one candy bar, you should totally work on your reflexes."

"Ha ha, very funny, meme master," the TV switches back on and channels flip by until Daniel settles on a dumb cartoon they loved when they were kids. It's a rerun, an episode he vaguely remembers. Sean unwraps his Chock-o-Crisp, feeling giddy and warm all over.

"Damn, it's Hawt Dawg Man, guess it's turned classic now," Daniel speaks between chewing, and Sean is overcome with a sense of déjà-vu. They did the exact same thing at their house in Beaver Creek every Saturday evening, stuffed themselves with candy and watched silly cartoons. Doing it now is both surreal and thrilling.

As they watch the show, Sean thinks that maybe the distance between them isn't as big as he believed it has become and their relationship is easily salvageable. Sean just needed to make the first step. And he did, now it's time for the second one.

He pulls his phone out to check the clock and braces himself.

"Hey, Daniel?" the huge smiling hot dog is walking hand in hand with a bottle of mustard after they defeated Evil Mustard yet again and an upbeat victorious tune is playing. Sean glances at Daniel who's sitting with one leg up on the coffee table and arms thrown languidly over the back of the couch. Daniel looks at him in silent question.

"Do you wanna go to Cafe Vita with me? Like, right now?"

"Dude, my shift's tomorrow, I thought you knew," Daniel says it with a straight face, but Sean can tell he's teasing him with how the corners of his mouth lift a little.

"No- I mean, yes, I know, I was just going to meet up with Lyla there, and Eric, and I thought maybe," Sean watches Daniel's small smirk turn into a firm line as he speaks, and finishes on an uncertain note, "you'd like to hang out with us?"

Daniel doesn't say no right away and Sean hopes he'll be able to convince him. Then the TV abruptly switches off.

"Don't think that's a good idea," Daniel stands up, fetches the carton of milk and empty wrappers from the floor and walks to the kitchen area. "Have fun."

"Wait!" Sean hurries to follow him so much he stumbles off the couch and almost falls on his face. "Why not?"

"Cause I don't want to?" Daniel's reply is punctuated by a forceful slam of the fridge door.

"But why? Lyla's cool, and Eric's not so bad when you get to know him, we always do lots of fun stuff together-"

"Yeah, you do, I'm not part of your happy little group," Daniel grumbles and turns to go to his room, but Sean can't have him slip away so quickly. Not after they've just started talking again.

"But you can be! Don't you see that, nobody would push you away if you just tried to fit in for once," Daniel stops. Sean counts that as his small victory. Maybe he does it too soon.

When Daniel turns and walks back to him from the hall his face is stormy.

"Like you?" Sean looses track of their conversation for a moment, as he sees the books on the shelves and the pictures on the walls start trembling in his peripheral vision. Daniel takes another step towards him and something falls down to the floor. "You try so hard all the time, tell me, does it really pay off?"

"What are you-," Daniel's power is like a heavy blanket that's wrapping him up against his will. A little more pressure and he'll suffocate.

"To think you're the one with mind reading power, you're so dense sometimes," Daniel stops when he's about two steps away, and that's already too close for Sean. "Do you really think they'll accept you when they find out about it? That you will still fit in?"

"They won't," Sean replies on autopilot, his head getting heavier every second.

"You plan hiding it all your life then, lying to them in the face every time you see them? Well, that's not friendship, Sean, that's one big fat lie," Daniel sounds so certain, it's worse that he means every word.

"You don't know shit," he finally snaps and looks at Daniel with as much anger as his brother is projecting at him at the moment.

"I know you keep having these headaches, don't you wonder where they come from?" that takes Sean aback.

He does have more headaches than he used to, he guesses it has to do with his power because they usually come after he's been out, and especially around crowds of people. So like, a normal school day more often than not leaves him with a splitting head. Sometimes it gets so bad even two Advils a day don't make it go away. Sean didn't tell Dad though, at least not the real extent of his problem.

He thought he's been hiding it well. Apparently not well enough.

"I don't know what you're talking-"

"Oh cut the crap, Sean, I used to have them too," Daniel watches him closely and Sean stares right back. "That's what happens when you try to suppress your power, and you're doing it all the time, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am, because we're supposed to, so that we can-" he hesitates, sees Daniel's judging look and pushes on, "be normal, alright! We don't live in the middle of nowhere, if you haven't noticed, there are people around, and you can't just go flaunting your telekinetic shit whenever you feel like it, cause it has consequences," Sean feels so pissed off he's almost vibrating with it. And Daniel looks no better, only his frustration makes the furniture lift off the ground a few inches.

"How come it's always about me slipping up! Never thought your power can affect others too? Because, surprise Sean, it does!" he gets into Sean's space then and jabs a finger in his chest. "Every fucking time you return weak and miserable I feel like shit too, and let me tell you, it's no fun at all," his voice drops dangerously low. Sean wants to take a step back but can't find the strength to move even a muscle. "So much for your wonderful friends, being around them drains you the most."

"That's not true," Sean protests weakly. Daniel might be acting like an asshole, but he's not completely wrong.

"Pff, keep telling yourself that," he finally backs off, but not before saying, "Doesn't change how much it sucks."

"Is that why you keep sneaking out at nights and skipping classes?" Sean has had enough, he has questions of his own, might as well ask them while they are at it. Daniel freezes in place. "What, thought I wouldn't notice?"

"Like you care," Daniel spits and narrows his eyes, probably wondering if Dad already knows.

"I do, and no, Dad doesn't know," Daniel's eyes widen a fraction but he stays silent. "What the actual fuck, Daniel? Are you planning to bail on us or something? Dump us like Karen did?"

Sean hears a loud clatter behind him. In the next moment a relentless invisible force slams him into the back of the couch, pushing him down and holding him there. Sean can't even budge. Daniel's power has never had such a strong effect on him. Then again, maybe he never used it seriously against him. Now he does.

"You don't get it, do you?" Daniel looks down on him, expression still angry but also sad. "I'll never fit in here, and neither will you."

Then there are hurried footsteps from the stairs, and Dad's worried voice that grows in volume as he approaches.

"Sean, Daniel! What is going on there? And don't you lie to me, the electricity's gone wild again and I heard yelling."

Daniel releases him just as Dad emerges from the basement door.

"What's the meaning of this? Have you two been fighting?" his stern gaze falls first on him, then on Daniel and stays there.

Sean feels an overwhelming need to punch something. Preferably, Daniel's expressionless face as he strides away.

"No idea, ask your favourite son," he throws over his shoulder.

"Not so fast, mister, hey!" the door to Daniel's room bangs shut.

"Dad," Sean calls, slowly getting on unsteady feet, "leave it, he's just being a dick, as always." Dad's strong arms help him up.

"Hijo, did he-?"

"No, I mean, I was kinda being an asshole too, so," he doesn't want to talk about this whole mess. To anybody.

"That's not the way to sort things out, you two are almost adults," Dad sighs tiredly.

"Yeah, tell him that," Sean rubs a sore spot on his shoulder and looks away.

"It concerns you too, you know," Dad follows him to the kitchen. Sean takes a glass and fills it with tap water. His fingers are shaking a little. "What was it that you argued about?"

Sean takes a sip. Waits. The trembling stops.

"Nothing, just the usual stuff," Dad is watching him closely for a minute or so, then nods.

"I'll speak with him," he says and walks to Daniel's room.

"Good luck with that," Sean puts the glass away, picks up his backpack from where he left it earlier and goes to the front door. "I'll be at the coffee shop with Lyla."

Dad looks at him in consideration and Sean thinks he's not going to let him go, but he says, "You know the curfew, don't be late, mijo."

"I won't," Sean promises. And keeps it.

When he's back in his room that night, cleaned up and ready for bed, he sees the sketchbook still lying on his desk. He forgot to take it in his hurry and made a couple of pen drawings on some napkins instead.

He flips it open on the last page, the picture of him and Daniel is staring at him like an insult. He tears it out and shoves it carelessly onto the bottom shelf of the desk cabinet.

Sean falls asleep the moment his throbbing head hits the pillow.

He's absolutely drained.

Chapter 2: Daniel

Chapter Text

Daniel has just ground the coffee into the group handle and picked up the tamper to even it out when he sees Lyla walk in through the front door, twenty five minutes late for her shift. He presses the tool down with decidedly too much force and then adds a twist that packs the grounds so tightly the cappuccino he is making is doomed to be too bitter.

Whatever, he could've been on his way home already were it not for her. If the drink gets rejected she is going to be the one to remake it.

Lyla disappears into the staff room just as Daniel starts to steam the milk. The sharp high-pitched screeching sound that accompanies the process perfectly matches Daniel's level of irritation. By the time Lyla joins him behind the counter, with hair pulled up into a messy bun and an apron tied loosely around her waist, the drink is finished and served.

"Hey, Daniel," she says lightly and he hums in reply, pretending to be engrossed in rinsing the basket and wiping the area clean. She doesn't give up though and continues pestering him. "How's it going? Busy day?"

"Yeah, kinda," he glances at her briefly and then at the tables packed with students and other random folk. "An extra pair of hands wouldn't hurt, you know?"

"Okaay, point taken, shade-thrower," Lyla then turns to greet a new customer and also waves at Mike, who came on time, by the way, and is now cleaning the tables.

Daniel takes the opportunity to slip past her, change quickly and clock out. He wants to head straight for the exit next but Lyla calls him once he emerges from the staff room with his backpack in hand and headphones around his neck. He should've put them on right away, that way he would've had an excuse to ignore her. He marches to the counter and looks at her expectantly over the espresso machine.

"Dude, you sure booked out fast, speed must run in the Diaz family, huh? Sean was killing it on the track field at practice today," Lyla laughs, stirring milk into the coffee-filled cup with a long spoon.

Right, because Lyla knows every aspect of Sean's life and would gladly inform him. Daniel scowls despite himself. Lyla's smile falters.

"Is that why you were late then?" there's tension coiling in his gut at the idea, and his fingertips start to itch. He shifts his backpack from one hand to another to get distracted.

"Yeah, kinda," she mimics his earlier unenthusiastic reply, adding whipped cream on top of the syrup-induced latte, and calls the customer's name. A young girl walks up to take it off the counter. As she does so she looks Daniel up and down and smiles a little when their eyes meet.

Daniel couldn't care less at the moment. His mood, dampened enough as it was, with Lyla's offhand comments dropped even lower.

"What I wanted to say," Lyla takes advantage of the lack of other customers and leans on the counter, obviously wanting to pull him into a conversation he would rather avoid. "Do you wanna go to the party at Derek's tonight?"

Daniel blinks at her. The offer comes pretty much out of nowhere, and yet reminds him of how Sean invited him to hang out a week ago. And the shit show that followed.

"Didn't think you were buddies with Anderson," he says with a crooked grin, not answering the question.

"He invited everybody in the class and Sean wanted to go, so-,"

"So what, we're not exactly joined at the hip, you know," Daniel scoffs. "He can go if he wants, for me it's whatever," he turns and takes a couple of steps towards the front door. Lyla's next words make him pause though.

"I know he'd like you to come too," Daniel turns to her with an incredulous look on his face.

"Yeah? And you know that how?" the possibility of Sean wanting him anywhere near his person after last week seems ridiculous. Lyla doesn't know what she's talking about.

"Listen, I've no idea what's going on between you and Sean, but he's been really bummed out this week, and he keeps looking at you, like he wants to make things right but doesn't know how," Daniel is speechless for a moment.

Since when has Lyla become so observant when it comes to his brother? No wonder it leaves him totally wiped out after he spends time with her, the girl could easily have some sort of superpower of her own.

Probably, the power of sticking her nose into others' business.

"Maybe there's nothing left to make right," Daniel shrugs his backpack on and turns on his heel yet again, this time determined to leave.

"He really misses you," she calls after him. "Just give it a thought, okay?" he hears her say before pulling his headphones over his ears and walking out of the shop.

He picks up pace immediately and doesn't even consider taking a bus home. He needs some time and space to calm his spiralling thoughts and get rid of the urge to press a dent into every passing car on the street.

The very fact that Lyla is the one who tells him what his brother is feeling is infuriating. Sure, they may not speak on a daily basis any more, and their relationship has admittedly turned to shit in the last year or so. But that doesn't mean Daniel is oblivious to what is happening to Sean as his power grows, and as he continues to try and suppress it like the good little boy Dad always expects him to be.

Daniel punches in the buttons of his mp3 player, and loud music with a heavy beat blasts from the speakers, making a good soundtrack to the excessive charge of energy that thrums in his veins.

It pains Daniel to think of how drastically different things have become between Sean and him. When they were little, they used to be inseparable, and shared all the fun and trouble that they got into together. Then everything began to fall apart, starting with Karen leaving them short after their seventh birthday, and getting progressively worse after what they did (he did) to Chris and his dad, which made them leave Beaver Creek and move to this shitty neighbourhood in Seattle.

There was time when Daniel blamed himself for everything that went wrong in their lives, and couldn't stop feeling like he let everyone down, especially Sean and Chris. It made him weary of making new friends at a new place and getting too close with other kids, since he feared they might end up like Chris, who didn't even know about his power and still suffered from it. Daniel never quite let go of the guilt, and doesn't think he ever will.

Sean feeling the same didn't help matters either. But he somehow managed to cope with it by sticking to every single one of Dad's rules that came raining on them in unholy proportions here in the city. While Daniel questioned the most ridiculous ones (like, don't move things around in the living room, only in your bedroom, and only after you draw the curtains closed) and argued with Dad until they were both hoarse in the throat, Sean just accepted them all obediently. In fact, he took them so seriously he even refused to uphold their mental bond, shutting Daniel out and avoiding to touch him for several days straight, too afraid he might slip.

And that was what actually hurt the most. Also it made Daniel awfully angry and resulted in him shutting Sean out on his own.

He still remembers Sean's perplexed expression when he tried to transfer something to him one day at home and got Daniel's mental rebuff in return. It made him glad, in that unsatisfying joyless kind of way that left a sour taste in his mouth and a heavy weight on his chest.

How many times Daniel wished he could tell Sean what he really thought about his assholish behaviour and his lousy coping mechanism. As well as his unwavering certainty that their powers must stay hidden and preferably never used. But he didn't. He was so majorly pissed at him, and Dad, with his stupid belief that he knows what's best for his sons.

Of course it sounds nice and easy, no powers no problems. Until you get splitting headaches and an itch so strong it feels like scratching your limbs to the bones is the only way to make it stop. In the last year it became particularly overwhelming, and not just for Daniel.

This was, perhaps, the shittiest part. No matter how much Daniel tried to block Sean out, he could never fully push the presence of his mind away. It seems to be forever merged with his own, in one way or another, and nothing Daniel did helped him ignore Sean completely. He might not hear his actual thoughts, nor keep track of where he is when they are more than a few feet apart, but he still gets a full scope of Sean's most intense states and emotions. Which, in the last year, quickly went from bad to worse.

Not only does Sean get mentally exhausted at school and at work day in and day out, but he also pushes himself into a sad excuse of a social life with Lyla and that sketchy dude Eric, who he claims to be his 'crew' and suffers most of the mental stress from. Because that's the way Sean is, ready to take all possible burdens on his shoulders even when nobody's asking, and then deal with that shit in his free time, swallowing pill after pill to quell his monstrous headaches.

Daniel fucking hates him for it. And his wonderful shit-headed friends.

Just thinking about it all makes Daniel want to break something, preferably made of mental and concrete, since wood and plastic pose no challenge to him already. His eyes scan the street with no real intent but rather an idle assessment.

That post box at the street corner would totally do. And so would those dumpsters behind the convenience store. He imagines gripping them with his power and squeezing hard, feeling the metal warp and crease under the pressure like paper. Maybe he should return later in the evening and train distance and precision on them.

That's something Daniel started doing a couple of months ago and finds extremely effective. He makes up numerous tasks for himself that involve using his power in full force and it helps him scratch the annoying itch that could otherwise bug him for days on end. He tries to pick his targets in deserted places, like side alleys or public parks late at night. A couple of times he even went to the local scrap yard, and those were the most satisfying trips he's had so far.

Training his power feels invigorating and calming at the same time, and afterwards Daniel always enjoys a pleasant buzz that keeps him happy and relaxed for the rest of the day. Or at least until he gets close to Sean and receives a hefty portion of sadness-stress-anxiety-worthlessness-anger or whatever else that he soaks up like a sponge and brings back home.

Sometimes Daniel wonders why he can't absorb positive emotions instead, but then he guesses it's because those, being light and pleasant, are much easier to block out than the negative ones. Either way, those bother Sean and, as a result, Daniel most.

And it never fucking stops. For Sean, that is, since Daniel at least has an occasional breather every once in a while. But Sean, oh no, he chooses to suffer through everything like a champ, until he is so sick he can barely move out of bed on weekends. The thought makes Daniel absolutely livid.

He turns to Lewis Avenue and watches the plain suburban homes that already start to sprout Halloween decorations here and there with contempt. It's hard to imagine the holiday used to be his favourite once. Now all he can think about is how people who celebrate it simply need an excuse to pretend more than they already do. They dress up as monsters and superheroes and take on these roles for as long as it's all fun and games. But were they to come across someone with an actual power, what would they do? Freak out, of course, scream and call the cops or some mad scientists who would be too happy to open up one of the monsters' skulls.

Still, Daniel believes that their powers are not the real problem. No. It's the world around them. It will never accept them the way they are and thus pushes them into the confines of endless social norms, expecting them to be happy and content in their constricted crippled state. And seriously, to hell with such a shitty world.

If only Sean could see it too.

'He really misses you,' Lyla's words come to him all of a sudden and Daniel feels his chest tighten. As if he doesn't miss Sean. He does. More than anything.

Because deep down he knows that whoever he befriends, like Noah from the parallel that he plays online shooters with, nobody will ever replace Sean. His brother, his best friend, the only one who truly understands him, and who will always have his back no matter what.

As their house comes into view, Daniel remembers the brief moment where Sean tried to re-establish their long-forgotten bond a week ago. The familiar sensation of Sean's timid but oh so perceptive mind peering into his own like into an open book. It sends shivers down his spine even now. Makes him want to grab Sean's hand and never let go, give him access to the deepest and darkest corners of his mind, show him how much he still cares about him, how he wants their relationship to be what it once was.

What wouldn't he give for them to go back in time and be Super Wolf Bros again.

When Daniel enters the house, pulling his headphones off, he shuts the door behind him with his power. The bang echos through the empty living room, but then Dad's voice comes from the dining table.

"Hello, Daniel, I would appreciate it if you didn't try to destroy the door frame yet again," he doesn't even look up from a pile of papers that he has spread out before him. Probably the regular bills and invoices.

"Yeah, whatever," Daniel doesn't stop on his way to his room.

"Hey, come here for a bit, hijo," Daniel sighs and marches to the dining room.

"What?" Dad looks at him with a slight frown, which is an expression Daniel is pretty familiar with by now. The argument they had last week might've set it in stone on his father's face.

"You know I don't like fighting with you," Daniel rolls his eyes. Here it comes again. "And don't give me that look, you know I am telling the truth."

"Okay, fine, so?" the irritating itch settles under Daniel's skin and refuses to leave.

"I understand you don't want to be controlled, nobody wants at your age, but you and your brother, you have to learn that your actions can have much greater consequences if you let yourself slip," Daniel shifts, impatient to get away from Dad's penetrative gaze. "Even if you don't mean to."

"Got it, can I go now?" he hates it when Dad gets into one of these moods where he feels like he needs to talk to him heart-to-heart. As if that ever brings them anywhere.

"No, you cannot," Dad rubs at his temples, clearly aggravated. "Mijo, it'll do you no good if you keep giving in to your emotions like that," he glances behind Daniel's back at the front door.

"Right, would you rather I felt nothing at all, like Sean's trying to just to make you happy?" he spits out and balls his hands into fists. The bite of nails on his palms helps Daniel steady himself a little.

"That's not what I meant," Dad sounds tired. They've had different variants of this conversation a thousand times before, and yet he always manages to come up with a new one. "I care about you and Sean, and I don't want you to feel pressured by all these rules and regulations, but some things you need to accept as they are, or your attitude will get the better of you."

Daniel watches him for a moment, takes in a deep breath, then lets it out.

"I'm not the one you should be worried about," he finally says and turns to go.

"What do you mean?" Daniel doesn't reply and after leaving his backpack in his room shuts himself in the bathroom.

He really needs to cool down.

He leans heavily onto the sink, watching his reflection frown at him from under the messy bangs. As the pointless staring contest continues Daniel concentrates on the faucet handle and tries to turn it as smoothly as possible. Water gushes out with such force it gets all over his dark green hoodie.

"Fucking great," he growls, regulating the waterflow with one hand and tugging at his soaked clothes with the other. The hoodie is beyond saving at this point so he pulls it off and trows it directly in the hamper. It's Sean's turn to do the laundry this week anyway.

Daniel considers taking a shower, but settles for a wash at the sink. He plugs it and fills it with cold water, submerging his hands and waiting until they become pleasantly numb. Then he washes his face, combing his hair back and holding cool palms against his forehead. He might need a haircut soon.

He stands there for a couple more minutes, thinking about nothing but the calming chill in his hands and on his face. Then he drains the sink and comes out into the hall. He goes straight to the kitchen area, not wanting to fall into another argument with Dad, but he must've gone to his room, since the dining table is empty. This suits Daniel just fine. No one will scold him for drinking a soda before dinner.

Daniel opens the fridge and his eyes fall on the cookie dough, but he decides to save it for later. Every time he returns after his nightly training sessions he gets a serious craving for something sweet. So he takes a can of cherry soda from the pack and shuffles to his room.

Once he's in front of the door though, he stops. Turns around. Glances at the empty hall and living room.

Sean still hasn't returned from track practice. His bedroom is closed shut, but not locked.

Daniel hesitates for only a second before pushing the door open and walking in.

The room is the same as he remembers it, yet somehow without Sean inside it looks unnatural, foreign. Daniel makes his way to the bean bag but doesn't sit, studying the walls and bookcases instead. Sean's posters are kinda lame and pretentious, and the gaming magazine that he left on his half-made bed is a last month issue that Daniel doubts he opened more than twice.

The pictures of Sean with his new friends pinned to the wall beside the bed Daniel prefers to ignore, and leans closer to look at the one where Sean is shot standing on the track field right after his last race, face glistening with sweat and red from exertion. He and Dad are there too, Dad smiling proudly at the camera and Daniel with an expression that screams he'd rather be anywhere else. Does he really look like such an asshole all the time?

He frowns as his eyes move over Sean's trophies. Running is actually what makes his brother happy, Daniel can tell. When he runs his mind goes blank and he enjoys the exercise as much as the mental break from the world around him. Daniel should've supported him more. He turns away and walks towards the chest of drawers.

There are books piled next to the player and Daniel's curiosity is peaked when he realises that the one on top is about tattoos. He's been thinking about getting ink for some time already, and of ways to do it without Dad noticing. Maybe he and Sean are on the same page here. It makes Daniel grin.

He looks over the shelves and notices a couple of Sean's recent drawings. He hasn't seen Sean draw in a while. Doesn't mean he doesn't do it any more, obviously, he just never bugs Daniel to pose for him like he used to.

Suddenly Daniel is overcome with the need to learn more about the life Sean has without him. And the answer is right in front of him, among his brother's stuff left carelessly in the open, and also hidden in the drawers of his nightstand and desk.

Now, Daniel is not particularly proud of himself for snooping around, but he dismisses the faint pangs of conscience as his power grips the little handles and pulls the drawers open one after another.

He chuckles when he spots Sean's old toy Gunther stuffed inside the top drawer of the nightstand. Daniel remembers how Sean would sleep with it until he was twelve and how they fought one day when Daniel said that the ugly plastic dude should be Sean's twin instead, jokingly of course, and Sean told him he was seriously considering it sometimes.

Daniel lifts Gunther up to look at his tattered state more closely but it shifts the book beside it and Daniel gets a glimpse of shiny foil squares hidden underneath. Well, that's interesting.

He doesn't rummage in the drawer any longer and places everything the way it was before shutting it. But when he turns around and goes to the desk numerous guesses start popping up in his head, each one wilder than the other.

Has Sean started dating someone? Impossible, Daniel would've noticed. But has he started thinking about dating already? Highly possible, judging by how prepared for action he is. Then again, it might be the result of their sex-ed class and the many joys of STDs they were promised they would get if they ever tried unprotected sex. Still, it makes Daniel uneasy that he has no idea what Sean thinks about so many things. Sex, relationships, girls, dudes? It seems Daniel will never know, unless he asks.

Or searches around some more.

Sean's desk is mostly bare save for his PC, random stationery and the corny lava lamp. So Daniel goes straight for the only drawer it has and the cabinet beneath. When he opens the latter he immediately notices a compact purple weed pipe lying in plain sight on the top shelf. Daniel purses his lips and crouches to inspect the rest of the stuff crammed inside, almost expecting to find a hidden stash. But there's nothing of the kind.

Daniel lets out a long sigh and his body sags a little with relief.

Sean has been at the total of three parties in his life, the first two were rather lame and drained him no more than the usual crowds of people. Daniel knows because he was there with him from start to finish. The last one, however, the end of the year house party Daniel left roughly fifteen minutes after they arrived, that one was an absolute disaster.

Daniel shudders just thinking of the call he got later that evening, standing in a dark dirty alley several blocks away and crushing the remains of somebody's old bike. The way Lyla spoke, voice rushed and strained, as she explained to him that Sean tried smoking some new shit Eric had brought and collapsed after the second hit, spurred Daniel into action right away. He was running back to the damned party before she could even finish telling him, stuttering and repeating herself out of nerves, how his brother was sitting on the bathroom floor and calling for him, pleading to be taken home, and yet refusing to dial Daniel's number himself.

He also begged her not to call Dad. But Lyla freaked out and did exactly that, so he was already on his way. But Sean was getting worse as they waited, she didn't know what to do and ended up calling Daniel as well.

One particular thing from that night got permanently etched into Daniel's memory, and it was Sean's feverish mumbling that he could make out in the background throughout the whole call. He sounded so distraught, saying, "Where's Daniel? I can't feel him, where is he? Why can't I feel him, I can feel everyone, everyone for miles, where's Daniel?"

It was unbearable. He has never felt so bad in his whole life. For ditching his brother with his idiotic oblivious friends, for shutting him out when he needed him most. For not being there when Sean was so vulnerable and disoriented.

He arrived at the party at the same time Dad did, and both he and Sean got the dressing down of the century. But mostly Daniel, who was sober and in Dad's eyes stood responsible for Sean's wrecked state. Their argument started in the car and blew further out of proportion the closer they got to their house. They stopped yelling at each other only when Sean threw up on the backseat and almost knocked himself out on the door handle.

So yeah, since then Daniel hates drugs and what they can do with a burning passion.

Which makes him think about Lyla's invitation. She said Sean wanted to go, and okay, he was always a glutton for throwing himself in the middle of uncomfortable situations, but she also said he wanted Daniel to go too. That was still beyond Daniel's comprehension.

They never got the chance to properly discuss what happened at the last party they attended together, since Sean was too busy recovering and handling his house arrest like a well-seasoned repenting convict, whereas Daniel did it with as much bitching and bickering as humanly possible. Besides, he avoided Sean like the plague, because he couldn't look him in the eyes. He felt that he needed to apologise for abandoning him but didn't know how to go about it. So, in the end, he just didn't.

He totally sucks as a brother.

Last week is simply another proof of that. And, perhaps, what he is doing right now as well. Poking around with Sean none the wiser, like he's some kind of creep.

He's pathetic.

The itch in his fingers flares up with new intensity and Daniel clenches them to quench it, but to no avail. And then he catches sight of a sheet of paper that's been shoved to the back of the bottom shelf. Daniel reaches inside and carefully pulls it out.

It turns out to be one of Sean's drawings, torn out from his sketchbook judging by the uneven edge and fairly wrinkled, as if it was a C- math test that he hoped to get at least a B for. All that doesn't matter though, once Daniel realises who is depicted in it.

It's them. Placed closely together, with Daniel in the front with one hand outstretched and Sean right beside him with fingers pressed to his temple. Daniel chuckles. Sean never actually did that superhero-ish pose when they trained with Dad, just stood next to Daniel with a concentrated frown on his face, sometimes even closing his eyes to block out the unwanted sensory information, and held his hand so tightly Daniel sometimes worried they would stay stuck forever.

He traces a finger over the sketch where their hands are connected and feels the grooves from how hard the pen was pressed into the paper there. Sean must've given it a lot of attention.

Daniel's chest is awfully warm all of a sudden and his lips stretch into a stupid happy grin. Above the drawing he sees Sean's messy scrawl that reads 'Super Wolf Bros'. But what really floods his heart with emotion are the words underneath that align so perfectly with what Daniel keeps telling himself when he's being particularly introspective.

They definitely could've been a wicked team.

So why aren't they? What is stopping them exactly?

On a normal day he can come up with a million reasons, both serious and petty ones. Today he decides to be finally honest with himself and face the truth.

Sean made his move to restore their relationship last week and Daniel blew him off. Now it is his turn to try and make it right.

And the first thing he is going to do will be coming to that stupid party with Sean and actually staying there, no matter how strong the urge to leave will be. If that's what Sean wants then Daniel should better be there for him this time.

He folds the sketch into a neat square and slips it into his back pocket. As he does that his fingers brush something cold and Daniel remembers the piece of metal he took from the scrap yard after his last training session. It was probably part of some car once, yet now fits into the palm of his hand. It reminds Daniel of what he can do with his power and helps him keep himself under control.

He looks at it for a couple of moments, deep in thought, and then an idea hits him. The piece of metal he is holding must be aluminium, since it's rather light and would easily bend if he were to manipulate it. So that's what he does. Concentrating on the shape he wants it to take, he lets his power loose, tearing and pressing at the sides of the metal scrap until it lands in his hand in the form of a little wolf. And it might be a bit lopsided and generally looking like something with four uneven legs, a flat tail and two triangles sticking up for ears. But Daniel's still satisfied with the result.

He grins, sending the tiny wolf float in the air and settling it gently on Sean's desk, right beside the lava lamp.

That's when he notices a small piece of paper lying there, covered by the post-it notes. Before he can stop himself his hand snatches it up, and Daniel stares at the note written in red pen with one single line 'In case you need help with math...' and a number at the bottom. There is no name, but Daniel thinks he knows who it might be from.

Jenn Murphy, the fiery redhead from their class that Sean's been staring at during math and social studies that they have together. Who knew he managed to get her number? And under such a lame pretext.

Then again, knowing Sean, perhaps, that wasn't even a pretext. He really is shit at math. Just like Daniel. Which kinda sucks, cause otherwise he could be the one to help his brother out with homework.

Whatever. So Sean has the hots for Jenn. Fine.

It is also very likely that he's all about going to the party because Murphy will be there. And that's fine too.

Daniel will still go, to keep an eye on him. Or something.

He looks around one last time to make sure he didn't leave anything open and gently shuts the door with his power on the way out. The soda can that he's been holding all this time turned warm and he decided to go take another, colder one in the fridge.

Just as he emerges from the hall the front door opens and Sean walks in.

Their eyes meet and for a few awkward seconds they stare at each other in silence. Then Sean drops his gaze and frowns a little. Daniel can feel anxiety pulse hotly in his head and shifts his weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

"Hey," he forces out, hoping his voice doesn't sound too strained. It probably does. Sean's head snaps up and his expression turns surprised. For some reason, it stings even more.

"Hey?" Sean watches him closely when Daniel heads to his original destination, as if he's waiting for a catch. Daniel opens the fridge, happy to have an excuse not to look at Sean directly as he speaks.

"Enjoyed your practice today?" he asks conversationally, trying to pretend it's something they do all the time.

"Yeah? I mean," there's a sound of shuffling and Daniel guesses Sean takes off his backpack and puts down the duffle bag with his track stuff. "It was good, and then I walked home."

"Me too, nice weather finally, right?" Daniel says quickly and cringes. That totally came out too eager. He curses under his breath and turns with two cans in hand. "Want one?"

Sean is at the side counter, which is closer than Daniel expected him to be. He smirks to mask his agitation.

"Uh, sure," Sean's eyes are studying him warily as he sits on one of the stools. Daniel doesn't risk approaching him yet and makes the can fly to the counter instead. He gives it a spin and then carefully sets it in front of Sean, who watches it amused. Then he catches himself and glances around a little nervously.

"Where's Dad?" he asks. Daniel opens his can with a forceful push on the tab.

"Dunno, in his room I guess," he takes a sip, watching Sean relax in his seat and open his drink slowly so that it doesn't go spurting everywhere.

This is such bullshit, his brother can't even chill in their own home. The soda tastes bitter on his tongue and Daniel clears his throat before saying, "So I heard you were going to this party tonight."

Sean's hand slips on the dewy can and he almost drops it.

"Did Lyla tell you?" anxiety washes over him again and reaches Daniel in a suffocating wave. He doesn't even realise that he's projecting it. Or simply can't control it.

"Yeah, said it'd be cool," Daniel can't stay away any longer and takes a few steps closer until he's at the other side of the counter. Sean looks like he's torn between denying everything and bolting to his room. Daniel can't let him do either. "So I thought," he puts the can down and leans in, going for a conspiratorial whisper he used when they were ten and planned out their next 'awesome' prank, "maybe I should come too?"

Sean's face resembles that of a fish thrown back into the aquarium after it's been in the claws of a cat for a while and pretty much accepted its fate.

"You want to go?" he finally asks.

"Yep, that's the idea," Daniel fakes his best nonchalant expression when he says that.

"To a party?" he clearly has trouble processing it. Daniel rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, dude, unless it was some code for a whorehouse with hookers and cocaine," Sean splutters then.

"Wh-What? No! It's just a- a normal party, okay? At a normal house, with normal people dressed appropriately," he throws his arms out for emphasis, wobbles on his stool and hops off. "Why do you always have to be like this?" he runs his hands down his face and in that moment reminds Daniel a lot of Dad. His ears are burning though. Daniel finds that cute.

"Oh come on, usually I'm much worse," he says it as a joke, but then thinks that it's actually not far from the truth at all. And Sean's words confirm it.

"Yeah, you're right," but hey, at least he's grinning.

"So what do you say? Am I too hardcore for this 'normal' party," Daniel makes air quotes here, "or do you think I'll fit right in?"

Sean frowns at the wording. Daniel knows it might sound like he's mocking him for what he said last week, but as he's waiting for a reply he hopes that he looks earnest enough.

Then, suddenly, Daniel realises what he needs to do to convince his brother.

True, they haven't had a decent talk in a while, and have definitely fallen out of habit of making plans together. But there will always be something only the two of them can share, no matter how many new 'best friends' Sean gets.

Daniel has to concentrate hard to let go of the barrier he's been putting up automatically for he doesn't even know how long already. Sean is just a counter away though, and once he reaches out, like Sean taught him when they were kids and wanted to chat well past their bedtime without alerting Dad, Sean immediately feels it. Daniel knows because he jumps a little and stares at him with undisguised shock.

'Please,' he tries to project what's on his mind loud and clear, 'let me come with you.'

Sean blinks and his hand flies up to his forehead, as if he can't believe what he's hearing. And he definitely does hear him. Daniel senses the growing buzz of his excitement and can't help feeling elated himself.

Before Sean can say anything, however, Dad comes out of his room. He takes in the silent scene before him and walks towards them with exaggerated disbelief.

"What's that I see? Two of my sons finally communicating, and no furniture's flying around? My old man's eyes must be deceiving me, for sure," Daniel scoffs, watching Dad walk up to Sean and clap him on the shoulder. Sean rolls his eyes but doesn't move away.

"Yeah, we were just-," Sean starts and then it hits him they are drinking soda before dinner.

'Shit, we're screwed,' Daniel gets his frantic thought, which tingles at his temples and makes him want to grin despite the situation. He forgot how pleasant it is to feel the presence of Sean's mind, especially when he welcomes it, instead of trying to push it away.

"I dared Sean to a drink, so here we are," Daniel grabs his can and lifts it up for Dad to see. "I was actually thinking to snag one of your beers but he talked me out of it," he takes a long sip, watching Dad with challenge.

"Good," he says simply, letting it slide for some reason. "At least someone's got their head on their shoulders, even if they'd better watch their diet more closely, don't you think, hijo?" he ruffles Sean's hair and walks to the fridge to get started on the dinner probably.

"It's not like that-," Sean rubs the back of his head, glancing at Daniel. 'You didn't have to,' he hears his weak reprimand. Daniel shrugs it off.

"Perhaps, drinking one of my smoothies will make up for your moment of weakness," Dad muses out loud and he cringes, seeing Sean do the same.

"Ugh, no way," Daniel says, walking further away from the kitchen for good measure. Dad might be a good cook, but he's much better with the grill than with that fucking blender where he mixes the most disgusting concoctions ever known to man.

Then Daniel has an idea.

"In fact, we need the extra energy," he starts. Dad turns to him and lifts a brow in question.

"Oh you do?" he asks, and Daniel glances at Sean quickly before nodding.

"Yeah, you see, after I bribed him with soda Sean agreed to show me some board tricks at the park," Daniel lies smoothly, looking Dad straight in the eye. He feels the pulse of Sean's incredulous, 'What are you doing?' in his head, and sends out a quick, 'Trust me.'

"Is that so?" Dad turns to Sean, for confirmation. For a moment he's doing a great impression of a deer caught in headlights, and his face darkens with a nervous blush, but then he makes himself nod as well.

"Yeah, we-," he avoids Dad's scrutinizing gaze and Daniel barely holds back from facepalming. Sean is a terrible liar, how could he forget. "We're trying to make up for lost time, you know," he ends up saying meekly. It actually comes out rather genuine.

Dad considers them both for a while and then claps his hands.

"Alright," he says. "If that's really true, than who am I to stop you from bonding again," Sean gets his things from the floor in a hurry, clearly uncomfortable that he lied and that Dad bought it. "Just get something to eat before you go and don't forget the curfew, okay?"

"I need to get changed first," Sean mumbles as he quickly walks past the kitchen.

"Yes, sir," Daniel salutes Dad with his half-empty can of soda and heads to his room as well.

They bump into each other in front of their respective doors and Sean gives him a petulant glare.

'Idiot,' the mental jab tickles and Daniel doesn't fight his grin this time.

'You can thank me later,' he thinks back and winks at Sean before slipping into his bedroom.

It's way messier than Sean's, since he doesn't care as much about Dad's threats to ban him from PlayBox if he doesn't clean it precisely twice a week. He goes straight for his closet, pulling out a nice black hoodie with an angular sketch of a white wolf on the front. If he's going to a party, he better look presentable.

Then he pulls his old skateboard from under the bed, pushing aside some other junk that accumulated there with his power. Dad bought them identical boards when they were fourteen and for some time he really enjoyed skating, but then Sean started hanging out with Lyla, Eric and that guy from his track team Daniel keeps forgetting the name of. After that he kind of just dropped it, not wanting to be near Sean whose mind kept getting more and more oppressed as he tried to control himself around his new friends.

Anyway, today it will be different. Daniel came up with a perfect plan and is determined to go through with it.

He picks up his backpack and looks at the contents critically. He's definitely not going to need his physics textbook at the party, so he takes it out. The Hawt Dawg Man pen case also has to go, as well as his unfinished history essay. He briefly thinks about taking his headphones and player, but then decides against it. If he really wants to change something between Sean and him, he better keep his eyes and ears open for whatever comes his way.

What's left are his keys, ID, charger, wallet with ten bucks and some change, and a set of lock picks he bought online not so long ago. What started as Dad showing him and Sean how to open a car with a broken lock somehow grew into a hobby of sorts for Daniel. First he learned to do it with what was at hand, and here the vast variety of ViewTube videos were his main reference, but then he felt ready to amp up his game and buy something more professional. Of course, to place the order he had to negotiate with Barry, an eleventh-grade repeater, who was happy to assist him if Daniel forgot all about seeing him dealing on the school grounds.

You never know when these may come in handy, so Daniel leaves the lock picks where they are, comfortably tucked in a small leather case that he put in the inside zipper pocket. He can, of course, simply break any lock, but sometimes it's all about stealth.

He wonders what else he might need and looks around the room in thought. It's then that he notices that the screen of his laptop lit up with notifications. He strolls over to his desk but doesn't sit down, quickly scanning the messages from the online chat with Noah.

He's asking him whether he'll be up for a game later this evening. And Daniel smirks a little triumphantly as he types out a short 'srry goin out with my bro' and closes the screen shut.

When he steps out of the room he can hear Sean still moving around in his, probably agonising over what to wear to impress a certain someone, if the agitated hum of his mind a couple of feet away is anything to go by.

Daniel frowns. It's ridiculous, Sean doesn't need to try and impress anyone. If some girl doesn't find him cool the way he already is, then she doesn't deserve him.

He walks to the kitchen area then and finds Dad at the counter, ready to start his blender.

"Ah," he says, glancing over his shoulder. "Since you're here, pass me the cucumbers, will you?" Daniel halts before the cupboards that he was about to raid for some chips and goes to the fridge. His first impulse is to send the tasteless veggies flying to Dad, but he doesn't feel like starting an argument, so he passes them himself without a word. "Thanks."

Daniel shrugs and pulls a bottle of water from the fridge as well. What if Sean ends up overexerting himself there and gets sick on the way back, he better be prepared. Either way, staying hydrated is always a plus.

"I don't know what you and your brother came up with," Dad starts casually, and Daniel immediately tenses. "But I want to believe that if you're in it together, you'll keep each other out of trouble."

He turns around then and looks directly at Daniel, sizing him up. Daniel crosses his arms over his chest.

"We're just going to hang out, like the old times," he's not about to let his plan get ruined, even if Dad suspects something.

"I'm not stupid, hijo," Dad puts his hands on his hips and shakes his head. "But fine, if you insist, I won't question it any more," he sighs and turns back to the blender. "All I'm asking is that you be careful."

"We will," he says just before the loud whirling drowns out even his own thoughts.

Daniel takes Dad's words personally. How can he not, after he's been told so many times to watch his power, to control himself better, to stay out of trouble. And right now it's definitely him again who Dad is mainly concerned about. He probably will never understand that Sean's growing, constantly repressed and, as a result, uncontrollable power can be a much bigger issue. The longer Sean stays in this house and listens to his every word, the more he is likely to get hurt.

Daniel won't let it happen though. After he regains Sean's trust he'll talk to him, make him see the real problem, and help him solve it. They could train together, with Dad's permission or without, and become a good team again.

With that in mind Daniel pulls a bag of chips from the cupboard, as well as three Chock-o-Crisp bars (you can never go wrong with those), and then heads to the front door. When he's passing the side counter though, his eyes fall on the jar that Dad wittily labeled 'Drug money'. He looks over at where Dad is standing with his back to him, still annihilating a mix of nasty green vegetables. He focuses on a bunch of coins that lie on top and lifts them up and out of the jar. They must be jingling as they zoom speedily through the air into Daniel's waiting palm, but it's impossible to hear past the roar of the blender. He pockets them as soon as they reach him, and he's just in time, because in the next second the deafening sound stops.

That's also when Sean comes out of his room with a backpack on one shoulder and his board under the arm. He has his favourite Squad hoodie on and Daniel smirks.

"Hey, looks like Super Wolf Bros are back in the game, huh?" Sean falters in his steps and frowns at him in confusion.

"Are you on your way already? At least have a little snack," Dad speaks up, rounding the counter with a cup filled to the brim with murky green goo and holding out a celery stalk.

"Uh, no, no way," Sean even takes a step back, as if Dad is going to chase him with it.

"We've got some snacks to go, thanks," Daniel chimes in, putting on his own backpack and striding to the front door with his board in hand.

"Okay, don't break any bones and watch out for cars," Dad says as Sean fumbles with the keys. "And remember, be home by ten-"

"Yeah, yeah, we got it, bye," Daniel waves his hand and is out of the house first. Behind him he hears Dad say something else to which Sean replies, "I will, I promise, love you," and they are finally on the street and free to go.

"Let's see," Daniel studies his board for any cracks or loose wheels and finding everything in decent shape throws it on the pavement, stomping down when it immediately starts to roll.

"Easy, bigfoot," Sean puts his board down too, in a much gentler fashion, and easily hops on it, skating forward with the momentum.

"You're a pro here, not me," he pushes off with his right foot and wobbles a little to keep his balance.

"You brought it upon yourself, remember?" Sean rides ahead in the general direction of the skatepark, probably in case Dad glances out of the window to see them go.

Daniel pushes harder to catch up. The faster he goes the easier it is to get the hang of it again.

"Just give me a minute and I'll be good," he says confidently as his body remembers the steady stance and falls into the repetitive push-pivot-stand motions.

"Cocky as always, don't fall on your face," Sean glances back at him with a grin. There's a crosswalk a few feet down the street and when he reaches it he swiftly comes to a stop. Daniel's going too fast though, he flails and almost crushes into Sean, but catches himself in the last moment.

"Hey, why did you stop?" there are no cars anywhere close by, but Sean doesn't move to cross the street.

"Derek's house is on the 41st, down by the park," he says. His brows furrow and his lips set into a firm line.

"Okay?" Daniel goes for a lighthearted tone. So it's a good hour and a half walk away. No need to make a drama out of it. "We can catch a bus."

Sean looks at him moodily. Then down at their boards. Before he can start bitching though, Daniel picks up his own board and does a quick pull on Sean's with his power, snatching it from under his foot.

"Daniel!" he exclaims in panic and looks around like he's expecting a dozen of undercover agents to tackle them down or something. There's an old lady walking her dog on the other side of the road, and she's not even facing their way.

"Relax, no one's watching," he says casually, spotting a bunch of bushes, growing conveniently along the side of someone's tall grey fence.

"What are you doing?" he drops his voice to a loud whisper and Daniel wants to laugh, but instead snickers quietly as he sticks both boards under the low hanging branches. Then he stands up and with his power flips them on their sides, pushing them back until they are propped right against the fence.

"They'll wait for us here," he brushes off his pants and turns back to Sean. Damn, if looks could kill he'd be dead three times already.

Sean continues drilling him with a glare all the way to the bus stop, his colourful reprimands buzzing in Daniel's head like cute fuzzy bumblebees that fascinate him rather than sting. The wait for the bus also passes in outward silence, even as Daniel starts sending out crude jokes in reply to Sean's righteous comments, just to see him fume and pout.

Only when they settle for a half hour ride at the back of a C Line bus does their mental bickering stop. Sean remains tense, however, staring out of the window at the plain scenery to avoid looking at him. Daniel has a suspicion what really is on his anxious mind. And it turns out he is right when five minutes later Sean fidgets in his seat and finally turns to him with a determined expression.

"Why did you lie to Dad?" Daniel knew it was coming but still weighs his words before replying.

"You think he would've let you go otherwise?" Sean's face flushes and Daniel can tell he's remembering his pot-smoking fiasco and all of Dad's lectures that he got afterwards. He doesn't give up though.

"He might have," he mumbles with little confidence. Daniel shakes his head. "I mean, we'll never know now."

"Listen," Daniel sees it as his first chance to talk sense into his brother. "We don't need to tell him everything."

Sean keeps frowning at him.

"Seriously, dude, we've got the right to have fun sometimes, we're not some kind of prisoners just because we can-," Sean shushes him frantically. Daniel rolls his eyes. The bus is mostly empty and nobody would give two flying fucks even if they outright discussed shooting the driver and using the bus to go on a heist.

"See, that's what I'm talking about, you're too tense all the time, too focused on self-control to notice anything around you," it somehow becomes harder to hold Sean's heavy gaze. Besides, the backs of the seats in front of them have a truly captivating assortment of quirky carvings and snarky notes scribbled in permanent marker.

'You know what happens when we lose control,' the thought seems quiet and distant even though Sean is barely a few inches away. It's also curious how he chooses 'we' instead of 'you', and for a second Daniel takes offense, thinking Sean might still be alluding to his occasional angry outbursts that end in broken stuff around the house. But then Sean puts his hand on his, which is currently gripping his jean-clad knee so tightly his knuckles turn white, and Daniel gets it.

Sean isn't formulating it in words, but rather transfers a complex tangle of emotions, one overpowering the other and making Daniel a bit dizzy with their intensity. There's Sean's constant worry to be discovered, and his fear of something bad happening to Dad or him as a result. There's also a huge amount of guilt and regret, for not taking Daniel's side more, for basically ignoring him the majority of time and spending it with his new friends instead. And all that against the background of a huge mental struggle to block out the incessant drone of the minds around them - on the bus, on the sidewalk and further out in the houses they go by.

Daniel flinches and the urge to snatch his hand away is strong, but he ignores it. He lets go of the wrinkled jean fabric and takes a firm hold of Sean's hot hand. If this is the kind of pressure Sean deals with every time he goes out, it's a fucking miracle he is still able to function normally and uphold a cheerful front for Dad and everyone else. But not for Daniel.

And he doesn't need to, because Daniel can take it. He can share the weight Sean stubbornly carries alone on his shoulders and he will never break. He concentrates, making sure Sean gets it through their newly forged link.

When he looks up from their joined hands, he is startled to see that Sean's eyes are glistening and his lips tremble a little.

All of a sudden Daniel is thrown back to a moment in the distant past. They are both nine and Sean keeps getting upset when he hears people thinking mean things about them. He can't help it, even if he doesn't want it, his power is getting stronger. And Daniel understands. He also gets frustrated when stuff goes flying once he becomes the littlest bit annoyed but won't budge when he tries to lift up something in particular.

But this time it's about what Sean heard his favourite arts and crafts teacher think of them, growing up without a mother and with an 'immigrant' father who's always too busy working. She thought they would most probably end up going down the wrong path and become delinquents despite their good potential because they come from 'a broken family'. Daniel remembers her words running on a loop in Sean's mind as he stands outside the classroom consumed with hurt and betrayal. He's fighting tears though, and bites his lips to stifle the sobs. Daniel holds his hand then.

As he does now.

They don't look directly at each other for the rest of the ride, nor do they talk. But it's a pleasant kind of silence, the one Daniel really missed. The calm steady flow of Sean's mind beside him tells him his brother is feeling the same.

When they get off at their stop it's starting to get dark, so it must be well past six already. The trip to Anderson's house is not long though, and in roughly ten minutes they are standing in front of it.

A two-story white house with a nicely trimmed lawn and probably a rather spacious backyard is exactly the type of home Daniel pictured Derek's well-off suburban family would have. It has some decorations on the front porch that look lame but pricey at the same time. Daniel rolls his eyes at a pumpkin that's carved so immaculately it can't be any of the family member's work. And those see-through ghosts and spiders plastered to the railing are way too shiny and remind him of the Christmas decorations people use to spite the neighbours across the street.

He's keeping his thoughts to himself for the time being, feeling how Sean's mentally preparing for the onslaught of sensations. He braces himself as they march up the stairs and rings the doorbell with a face of someone ready to take a dive into an abyss. Daniel bites the inside of his cheek to stay quiet.

The party is not in full swing yet, but there are a few cars parked in the driveway and there's the sound of music, some overrated indie crap, playing inside. The door opens just when Sean raises his hand to ring again and there's Derek's square ruddy face with a fixed grin and eyes that have turned a tad glassy. He takes them in and whistles.

"So the track star decided to come after all, respect, Diaz," he says a bit too loudly and slings an arm around Sean's shoulders, pulling him into an overly friendly hug. Sean tenses at the contact and his arms hover awkwardly as he debates whether not hugging the tipsy host of the party back will be too rude.

"Yeah, I, uh, I said I'd be here, so," Sean trails off, acutely uncomfortable. Daniel doesn't have any reservations about upsetting Anderson and is about to pull Sean back when Derek lets go and focuses on him.

"Ooh, you even brought a plus one, neat," luckily, he doesn't attempt to hug Daniel and motions for them to come in, continuing to run his loud mouth as he goes. "Haven't seen you at school in a while, thought you dropped out or something," he says with a smile and Daniel's hands itch with the desire to break his nose.

Suddenly, there are fingers on his wrist and Sean's sharp thought like a whiplash in his head, 'Cool your jets, man, we're not even five minutes in.'

Daniel takes a deep breath. The cluttered coat rack shifts back into place from where it skidded a few inches across the floor. The lights are dimmed, so nobody takes notice.

"Yeah, I'm not into crowds of people much," his weak come-back hangs in the air since Derek is already half-way to the living-room and doesn't hear him. Whatever.

"Just ignore him," Sean says quietly and walks past the people hanging in the hall, saying hi to some and nodding to others. Daniel follows him reluctantly.

The house is fairly big, and there are not too many guests yet, but Daniel still feels like he's swimming in a pool of glue with how thick and clinging their collective presence is. Then it hits him that it's not him, but Sean who feels that way. It makes his skin crawl.

Daniel watches him standing by the couch, chatting with Eric and that other guy he usually goes to track practice with. (Larry, Elvin? Who cares.) They're both holding plastic cups with cheap booze and chill against the cushions. Sean's smiling and waving his hand in Daniel's direction, explaining that they came together, and Daniel knows he needs to come up to them and join the conversation, but he's barely holding back from grabbing Sean's hand and running out of here, not stopping until they are far, far away.

For a split second he thinks to maybe block Sean out like he usually does, that way it'll be easier to go through this whole ordeal. But he promised himself he'd be there for his brother no matter what, and he's not about to give up this fast.

"Hey," he greets Sean's friends and stands at his side. Sean relaxes a fraction.

"Heey, Daniel, long time no see," Eric speaks up first, going for a handshake and Daniel feels compelled to shake his, then his other friend's hand under Sean's gaze. "How's it going, man?"

"All good, decided to drop by to see if Anderson's really cooking meth in his basement," Sean's eyes widen comically and Eric bursts out laughing. "Cause you know, word's been getting around."

"Damn, that'd look rad on his college application," Daniel pulls off his backpack and throws it down against the back of the couch.

"No shit, maybe even get him a scholarship," at that Sean finally chuckles, shaking his head. Everybody knows how much Derek cares about his grades, or rather how his parents care about him getting good grades. The fact that they let him throw a party at all is a mystery in itself. But what's in it to Daniel anyway. He just wishes it was over as soon as possible.

"Even cooking meth he's got more chances to get in college than you will, if you keep skipping classes," now that's a low blow. Sean's watching him with a smirk as he takes off his backpack too. So he wants to play dirty, huh? Fine.

"Oh I wouldn't be so sure," he says slowly, leaning on the bookshelf behind him. "You never skip anything, and yet you're failing math so hard you need Murphy to save your ass," Sean freezes. There's a bout of laughter from the couch.

"That's so true, man, you better accept Jenn's generous offer already, or Mrs Walters will totally have your balls at the next week's test," Eric guffaws.

"Shut up," Sean grumbles, looking to the side with a frown. Then his eyes land on him and Daniel feels a tickle at his temples as he transfers, 'How did you know about Jenn?'

Daniel stares back, 'Wouldn't you like to know?'

Sean is taken aback by his boldness, and his irritation sends little pinpricks over Daniel's skin. 'Whatever,' sounds dejected in his head. Daniel shifts against the hard shelves jabbing him in the back. This isn't going like he imagined at all.

Meanwhile, more and more people trickle in, and when Daniel takes a cursory glace at the newly arrived he realises that he doesn't know a good half of them. They are definitely not from their class, and maybe not even from their school at all, cause some look like they graduated several years ago. This makes him vaguely uneasy, but he dismisses the feeling when he sees Lyla in the sea of faces. She walks to them swiftly and in a few moments has Sean in a hug.

"What's up, losers? Growing boring and lazy while I'm not around," she gives Eric a high five and salutes the other dude. (Lewis? Elton?) Then she notices him and her smile grows. "Look who's here, and so fancy, you two make quite a pair," her gaze is approving, and Daniel can't say if it's because of his outfit or the fact that he came at all. Like he needs to hear her opinion. But of course she gives it anyway. "Kinda wish you hanged out with us more."

"Wait until he opens his mouth," Sean mutters under his breath and if it were not for the moment of silence where the songs switched Daniel wouldn't have heard him.

'Dickhead,' he thinks extra-hard, but only gets an eye roll in return.

"Hey, I could use a smoke right now, you guys comin'?" Eric stands up and pulls out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket. Sean shifts, and Daniel sees he wants to follow him, but falters and glances at him, guilty and uncertain.

Daniel knows he smokes occasionally, and while the smell is disgusting, he's not about to give him any hard time about it. Letting him go smoke with Eric, however, is an altogether different story. He's ready to say what he thinks about it, but Sean shakes his head.

"Nah, I'm good," he finally says. "I think I'll go grab a drink, you want any?" he asks Lyla.

"Whatever's tonight's special," she waves him off and walks up to Daniel.

"Yeah, bring me one as well, bro," Daniel speaks louder over the booming music that somebody's turned up. "Thanks!" Sean looks at him unimpressed and stalks away towards the kitchen.

"El, you coming?" Eric heads to the glass doors across the room and El (ah, Ellery, right, what a dumb name) follows him.

The doors are left open for everybody to move about freely and lead to the patio decorated with sparkly fairy lights and the backyard beyond. From what Daniel can make out, it is big indeed, with a nice wide wooden swing and a special grill area. There is also an electric fire on the patio, with a few big comfy chairs around it. Some people are already seated there and in the dark the whole scene resembles that of a night by the campfire. It definitely has its charm, especially with the tall trees towering in the background. The park is just a few feet away from the property and the Andersons don't even have a fence.

"So, what changed your mind?" Lyla startles him a little with her abrupt question. He meets her curious eyes and wants to tell her it's none of her goddamn business. But he's at a party. He's got to socialise, or whatever.

"I did, I changed my mind," he replies wryly. She chuckles, unperturbed.

"Good thing you did," she says. "Who knows, maybe you'll have a blast and finally get that giant stick out of your ass," okay, screw socialising, he's gonna give her a piece of his mind right-

"I don't know what this is supposed to be, looks kinda purple," Sean returns then with two plastic cups and a can of coke stuffed in the pocket of his hoodie. He looks ridiculous and Daniel smiles despite himself, his annoyance momentarily forgotten.

"Must be gatorade with something," Lyla takes a cup from him and Daniel grabs another, sniffing at the bright purple drink. Okay, it's definitely spiked. He'll save it for later. Holding a cup can be convenient for turning down anyone who tries to coerce him into dancing. Also it will help him not to stand out like a sore thumb.

Sean opens his coke and takes a sip, carefully glancing somewhere outside. He's mildly tense and Daniel doesn't understand why until he looks at who is sitting in one of the chairs on the patio.

It's no surprise he didn't recognise her the first time he studied the backyard. Jenn Murphy's dyed her hair blue and purple. Which actually looks kinda cool on her, that much he will admit. It also perfectly explains Sean's raging emotions. His mind's vibrating with nerves and excitement, and the longer he stands there, silently fretting about how to approach her, the more Daniel wants to do something about it.

One look at his brother's face makes Daniel think that if he had a tail he'd be probably wagging it like mad right now. Daniel can't decide whether he finds that endearing or irritating.

"That's actually not too bad," Lyla says after tentatively sipping from her cup.

"Yeah, no, I'd better stick to my coke," Sean grins. And Daniel can't stop himself.

"You sure? Playing it safe is all nice and sweet, but you know, some girls prefer guys who like to party," and he pointedly looks at Murphy, who's laughing at somebody's joke, tucking a long colourful strand of hair behind her ear.

"Oh please, you're one to talk," Lyla scoffs. "Standing here by yourself, like a moody wallflower."

"Yep, and I still got more game than some," he says confidently. Then, to prove his point, he catches the eyes of a bubbly brunette form the parallel, gives her one of his cocky grins and raises his cup in a sort of greeting. The girl laughs, saying something to her friend, but lifts her cup in reply. She also adjusts her skirt discreetly and tilts her head in the direction of the 'dancefloor', which is basically just the middle of the living room full of writhing and grinding bodies. Daniel nods, even if he has no intention to join her.

He turns back to Lyla with a smug smirk on his lips. Sean stares at him in poorly disguised awe.

"Wow," Lyla says flatly. "Who would've guessed you were such a player," Daniel shrugs.

"I'm not," he watches Sean fidget with his can, scowling down at it like it personally offended him. "But I guess someone wouldn't mind learning a trick or two, am I right?" he nudges Sean lightly with an elbow, making him look up.

"I-," Daniel can see his mental struggle, and the moment he sets his mind on something. He's not sure it's something good though, because Sean's gaze shifts to his cup. Before Daniel can say anything he puts his can on the shelf behind him, snatches the cup from Daniel's hand and takes a big gulp. Then another one. And another.

"Hey, easy there, this shit is strong," Lyla says, astonished. Sean's lips, glistening wet from the drink, twist at the taste. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and gives the cup back to Daniel.

"I'll do without your tricks, thanks," his words feel like a slap to the face, and Daniel watches him bewildered as he walks towards the glass doors.

"Damn, you got burned," Lyla doesn't even try to hide her amusement. Daniel squeezes the cup so tightly the plastic crumples and the remaining contents spill over his fist.

"Fuck," he breathes out and shakes his hand. Lyla starts giggling at the mess he made of himself and the carpet under his feet. Daniel drops the wrinkled cup and wipes the purple sticky shit on the back of the couch, just out of spite.

"Oh ho ho, you seriously fucked Derek's shit up," Lyla snorts and sways a little. Daniel looks at her more closely then. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes hold a mirthful glint. Also, her pupils are hella dilated. Shit.

"Lyla," he steps into her personal space and she doesn't even mind, staring up at him in a daze. "Did you take something?"

"What?" she blinks slowly, then snorts again. "What, like drugs? No way, at least not yet," she giggles and holds the cup up to her lips, but Daniel reacts faster and tears it out of her fingers. "Hey!"

He throws the cup on the floor where the drink colours the carpet purple probably permanently. Daniel doesn't spare it a second glance, and looks around instead, frantically searching for his brother.

The music seems to have picked up speed and volume, matching Daniel's madly beating heart. The heavy bass pulses in his head, coming wave after wave, and each time feels like it's going to drown him, trap him under the crushing weight of incessant murmuring voices and wound-up emotions.

He spots Sean standing on the patio, hunched over and holding his head. And he knows it then.

This maddening whirlwind of unwelcome sensations, that are amplifying with each passing second and threaten to go out of control, it all comes from Sean.

Daniel hears Lyla shouting something, but he doesn't pay her any attention, and barges right through the packed living room towards the open glass doors. He doesn't notice the flickering lights, nor the furniture that slides and shifts across the floor out of his way, nor the people he pushes past, shoving them aside with more force than necessary.

He reaches the patio just in time to see Sean sink to the stone floor, knocking over the electric fire on his way down. The few teens around him do nothing but stare, some gasp out in amused shock and some even laugh. Daniel freezes in the doors when another strong wave washes over him and catches Sean's unfocused scared gaze.

His eyes are shining wetly in the colourful lights decorating the patio, the pupils blown wide, and something dark is smeared across his lips and chin. With a horrified lurch of his stomach Daniel realises it's blood.

He doesn't wait any longer and runs to his brother as fast as he can. Sean hardly sees him, but he definitely feels him approaching and stretches one arm out, reaching for him blindly. The moment Daniel grasps his fingers stained with red his world explodes.

He's thrust violently into Sean's overwhelmed fevered mind, which makes him hear everything Sean's hearing at the moment with appalling clarity. Every single one of the disgusting thoughts swarming in the heads of these drunk and high people around them, from 'jeez, who invited this dirty spic, hope he won't throw up all over the place', or 'shit is this dude on meth, what the fuck', to 'isn't that guy on the track team, he's totally baked' and 'oh Sean, I thought you were different'. The last one's pulsing hotter than the others and Daniel can tell it's Jenn even without looking at her. But that's not all, because he can also feel their bewilderment, disgust, pity, contempt and morbid curiosity as if they were his own, only he knows at the same time that they are directed at him.

And above these concentrated emotions there are more, so many more minds that he is aware of, their desires, their fears, their insecurities and anxious fits, everything is pushing down on him, as if he's been put under a press and left there with no means to block the ruthless hits.

It's unbearable. He wants it to stop. He wants everything to stop. Wants all these people gone from his head. He wants them gone period.

Daniel falls on his knees beside Sean, holding his hand in a vice grip. He clenches his eyes shut and grits his teeth, his breath becomes laboured. Sean is no better with blood dripping down his face and staining the stone floor beneath. There are screams and moans of pain around them, but Daniel doesn't hear them, or rather doesn't pick them out from the general cacophony of sounds roaring in his head. Yet, he still catches Sean's broken whimper when he grips onto his shoulder and calls, desperate, pleading, "Daniel."

Sean wants everything to stop too. Daniel knows what he has to do.

He doesn't even need to focus like he usually does, his power seems to find targets on its own, lashing out wildly and taking down every obstacle in its way. The intensity of his outburst leaves his ears ringing for a while, and that's what drowns out the screams mixed with loud crashes and clatter.

For a few moments there's only blissful silence. Then Daniel starts to get back his bearings. He opens his eyes and Sean's slumped form is the first thing he sees. His head is pressed into his chest and the blood from his nose is probably seeping into Daniel's hoodie, but that's not what bothers him. He pushes Sean back gently, studying his face. His eyes are half-lidded and unfocused, but at least the bleeding seems to have stopped.

"Sean," Daniel calls, patting him lightly on the cheek. "Can you hear me? Please," he shakes Sean a little firmer and turns his head to the light. "Please, Sean, wake up," his voice cracks as he pats Sean's cheek again, harder this time.

Finally, Sean blinks and focuses on him.

"Wh- Daniel?" he looks completely lost. "Where-? What happened?" his eyes wander from Daniel's worried face and land on something behind his back. Then they widen in horror and he chokes on an abrupt intake of breath.

Daniel turns around and takes in the overturned chairs, some of them broken, and the shards of glass and splinters from the shattered patio doors. The living room also looks wrecked, with furniture scattered around and cans, cups and bottles littering the floor together with some rubble from the living room outer wall, which is partially blown away. But that's not as concerning as the numerous bodies lying around in different, sometimes unnatural poses like rag dolls thrown carelessly on the ground. Among them the ones that are closest to him and Sean have blood on their faces, running from their noses and coating their lips, cheeks and chins.

Daniel thinks he's going to be sick. Sean's grip on his hand that he's still holding becomes painful.

"Daniel," his voice is pitched high and scared. His whole body is trembling. "Are they-?"

"I don't-," he cuts Sean off but then halts himself. He doesn't want to think of the possibility, even if it's glaring him in the face. "They could be just...," he tries again and trails off, noticing some of those who are lying further away start to move. He feels a tad bit relieved.

The music's still playing somewhere in the house but he hardly hears it past the panicked screams coming from different directions. Somebody's calling for help, somebody's sobbing, and there's the same shrill voice repeating over and over that they need to call the ambulance.

Then people start spilling out into the backyard, and Daniel notices with a sickening feeling that some are filming the disastrous aftermath on their phones, moving them dazedly around and inevitably focusing on them, sitting right in the middle of what looks like fucking carnage.

Daniel tenses and feels his fight or flight instinct kicking in. Before he acts, however, he grips Sean by the shoulders to get his attention and starts to whisper urgently.

"Sean, we need to go, they're calling the ambulance and the cops," he hears someone yell 'call 911 what are you waiting for' in the background. "If they catch us, we're screwed, you hear me?"

Sean nods, his stunned expression a bit vacant.

"You think you can walk?" Daniel asks and starts pulling him to his feet straight away. Sean goes up heavily but thankfully without resistance. "Come on, lets go, we need to go quick," he drags Sean into the house and through the living room, yanking the phones out from those who filmed them and smashing them against the floor. There are scared yelps and more commotion behind them but Daniel ignores everything and picks their backpacks from where they lie miraculously safe from the couch that toppled over.

It's then that he sees Lyla, lying unconscious underneath. A sharp pang of terror goes through his head and he knows Sean noticed her too. He doesn't want to waste any time, since he's almost certain he can hear the sirens in the distance. But he can't just leave her there. Not after Sean's absolutely devastated, "Oh no, Lyla, please, no."

He gets hold of the couch with his power and lifts it quickly but carefully, not to injure her any more than she has been already. There are shocked gasps around them, but Daniel refuses to acknowledge them, grabbing Sean's hand and pulling him back into the backyard.

There are definitely sirens now. And they are getting closer very fast.

Daniel shoves Sean's backpack into his hands, putting on his own as he runs.

'We'll go through the park, quick,' he projects his thought to Sean, picking up speed. Luckily, running is something Sean's very good at, so he keeps up even in his shell-shocked state.

Only when they are so deep in the woods they cannot hear the sirens any more does Daniel slow down. They are both panting for breath and are drenched with sweat despite the cool autumn weather. The chill that's getting to his bones has nothing to do with the late October wind though.

Sean stands beside him, his chest heaving and legs shaking. Then he bends over and throws up.

Daniel listens to the sounds of retching for a while, leaning back against a large tree and catching his breath. Then he takes off his backpack and pulls out a bottle of water.

"Hey, you alright?" he asks, even if the answer is obvious, and gets Sean's weak glare in reply. It's the middle of the night and out here in the woods he mostly guesses his expression. Sean wobbles over to him and sits down on the damp forest floor.

Daniel gives him the cool bottle and before unscrewing it and drinking Sean presses it against his forehead.

"Another headache?" Daniel listens to his brother's uneven breathing and wants to touch his hand to make sure he's okay, but doesn't dare. Even without their link he can tell how distressed Sean is right now.

"What are we going to do?" he asks helplessly. Daniel wants to say everything will be alright and that they'll figure something out, but he can't. He has no idea what they are going to do. But one thing he knows for certain.

"We can't go back home," somehow saying it out loud makes him believe that it is really so. Surprisingly, Sean easily agrees with him.

"No, we can't," he says, and Daniel feels his hot shame and guilt, that probably have to do with their lie to Dad earlier this evening, and the fact that they uncovered their powers in such a stupid situation.

"I think we can go away for a while," Daniel says carefully, waiting for Sean's reaction. "Out of town, you know, and maybe out of state, until it blows over."

Sean stays quiet a couple of minutes, his mind whirling in a nervous frenzy. Finally, he nods, head going jerkily up and down in the dark.

"Yeah, that's- I think we can do that," he says. His breath hitches at the end as he swallows a sob.

Daniel slides down beside him, and wraps his arm around Sean's trembling shoulders.

"Hey," he speaks softly. "I know we're in deep shit," Sean hiccups wetly and shakes his head. "Yes, we are, there's no denying it," he continues firmly. "But we're in it together, you hear me?"

Sean leans into him, curling in on himself and wringing his hands. Daniel presses him closer.

"Aren't we Super Wolf Bros?" he asks with a strained cheerful note that makes his words come out a little desperate. "We'll handle this together, like we always did, there's nothing we can't handle," he starts rocking them a little from side to side, needing the comfort of it as much as Sean does.

"You promise?" he speaks up eventually. The trembling has stopped.

"Yeah, I promise," Daniel says, and he means it.

His eyes are wet with tears too, but he stubbornly wipes them away.

He needs to be strong, for both of them. They've got a long way ahead.