Jealousy was a strange, worrying thing, but Cadyn had experienced it before.
If his twin went off to talk to someone else for a little too long. If someone looked at Connor in a way Cadyn didn't like. If Connor talked too long about a girl. The list went on, even though he tried to stifle it. He didn't want to be like a strangler fig, encasing his brother, but at the same time, he couldn't bear to let go, for fear of losing him to someone else.
When Savannah had kissed Connor, even if it was just to tease, Cadyn had folded his fingers into fists, a feeling of anger and protectiveness building. He'd never seen Connor so flustered and unsure.
"Don't touch him," he'd said defensively, looking distraught, "He doesn't enjoy your company very much. He's just too nice to say it."
He'd been unsettled and upset for the rest of the day, but Connor and he had easily slipped back into their normal routine, and it was rarely brought up again.
He grasped at his brother, worried that one day he'd leave and get married. For who did he have if Connor was gone? Who would he share jokes with and who would read his mind and finish his sentences? Who would he both fight beside and read with late at night?
His mind came up blank, and he panicked, afraid to lose the one constant he'd always been able to rely upon.
Russian became like their secret language in a primarily English speaking country. They slipped into it whenever they felt like it, enjoying confusing people.
"Cadyn," one of their least favourite teachers at the Academy said, looking at both of them, not knowing who was who, "Hand out some steles to the other students."
Cadyn glanced sidelong at Connor, snickering, before reaching into the cabinet again to pull out some more. "Вы не можете сделать это сами?"
You can't do it yourself?
ooOoo
As a cocky student demonstrated a fighting sequence, he smirked confidently when he finished, glancing over at the rest of the class, as if daring them to do it as well.
Connor rolled his eyes, sharing a secret grin with Cadyn.
"Он выглядит как идиот" they both agreed.
He looks like an idiot.
ooOoo
A girl with long golden hair dropped her dagger on the ground and as it slid over near them, Connor stopped it with his boot, leaning down to pick it up. Holding it in his hand, he glanced over at her, taking a moment to study her.
"Она симпатичная, вам не кажется?" he asked his brother.
She's pretty, don't you think?
Cadyn made a sound of disagreement, plucking the dagger from his hand and walking over to pass it to her quickly, ignoring her grateful smile.
Returning to Connor, he laughed under his breath, holding a hand to his chest and muttering in a cocky tone, "Не такая красивая, как я."
Not as beautiful as I am.
Connor rolled his eyes, pushing past him as they returned to their positions to start the practice drill over again.
The battle with the Hunt faeries had been filled with pain and blood and the sound of horses' hooves hitting the ground, and it had gone quickly, the events hazy and distorted.
"I...um..." Connor moved out of the way when someone bumped into him and swallowed. "I...gotta go back," he said, turning around to head back to the forest. He hit into someone and he apologized in a mutter, his hand going to his sword.
He'd pushed Steff away as well, his thoughts on only one thing.
Starting through the forest, Connor swept branches away with his hands, ignoring the scratches and cuts on his arms. His breaths made a strangled sound, as he fought to get enough air in, scared of what he might find.
As he got deeper into the forest, bodies littered the ground, and he glanced at all the faces, both fae and Shadowhunter, discounting the irrelevant ones, and they all started to blur together. None of the others mattered to him. It was eerily silent, now that the battle was over, as if the forest itself was recovering, but he barely noticed.
It took what seemed like forever, until he froze, seeing a hint of familiar reddish brown hair, stained a bright red from the blood. It couldn't be his brother… it just couldn't, because there was so much blood-… and, and he had to be just sleeping, right?
Gasping, he ran over, kneeling and pressing a hand to his mouth, to stifle a horrified choking sound.
His brother's eyes were open, but unseeing, with nail marks raked down his cheek. And worst of all, the dagger that had been pushed in was still there at his temple. The side of his face and hair was so red, and Connor's vision grew blurry, as he shook his brother's shoulder. "Cadyn," he muttered, before repeating his name louder this time. "You… You have to wake up and-…" A sob escaped his mouth, before he could stop it, and he felt nauseous, holding a hand to his mouth and trying to keep from being sick. "Don't-… Don't leave me," he begged, his voice breaking, just like he could feel something inside of him doing the same.
He wasn't sure how long he sat there, staring, before he finally moved to lay down beside him, as close as he could get. Slowly, rain started to fall through the leaves of the trees, and it mixed with the tears falling down his cheek. The rain turned his brother's blood a lighter pink, diluting it.
He suddenly felt numb, and all he could think was, would his blood be the same colour? Everything else about them had always been the same, so he doubted that blood would be an exception. Laying his head back on the ground, he clutched his brother's gear jacket in his hand, as if afraid to let go.
Because if he let go, then his brother really would be dead.
Cadyn's room was messy when Connor walked in there, what could have been days later, although he wasn't quite sure. Time didn't seem so important anymore.
There were swords and daggers scattered around on the floor, and a spare gear jacket had been flung there as well. Bending down to pick them up slowly, he then worked on placing everything back perfectly, as if Cadyn was going to come back at any moment.
"I'm always having to tidy up your messes," he joked instinctively as he picked up a dagger. It was one of their usual jokes, and he reached for his brother's arm, about to say something else, before the reality that he wasn't there, crashed down on him again.
There were moments, blissful moments, where he forgot, for just a moment. Those were the moments where his brother was still alive and he could talk to him, and everything was fine. Since he clung to those moments, it was hard to draw himself out of them, the realisation even harder.
In fact, he wasn't sure if he ever wanted to draw himself out of them.
Connor had always hated white, the mourning colour. Shadowhunters were meant to be almost invincible in his eyes, and white had never had a place in his life.
That day, however, he was suffocated in white.
Distant relatives had made their way to the Institute in Russia that he and his brother had grown up in, where they had elected the funeral to be in the backyard. He hadn't thought he would be able to go, but his parents had dragged him there, not listening to any excuses. They thought it would be 'good for him to say goodbye.' As if such a thing were possible. As if he could just say goodbye to a part of himself.
There was a silent brother present, beside where his brother lay. He was laid to rest with his arms crossed over his chest, a seraph blade clutched in his right hand, resting over his heart. If Connor didn't look at the wound on his head, and the remainder of the blood they hadn't quite scrubbed off, he would have said his brother looked almost peaceful.
When the silent brother directed them, the Shadowhunters muttered the parting words, "Cadyn, ave atque vale." However, Connor just couldn't bring himself to. As if the words somehow made it all real. He merely looked away when they said it, so no one would notice.
One by one, Shadowhunters went over to stand beside his brother, so that words of mourning could be spoken, and to pay their last respects. Most of the 'family' gathered there, had hardly ever even talked to Cadyn. They were living in Institutes from all around the world, and they came here as if this meant something to them, but it didn't. They hadn't meant anything at all to his brother. Connor had numbly shrugged off their condolences and fake sympathy, not being able to say anything polite in reply.
When he parents urged him forth, Connor lowered his eyes to his brother, trying to find the words he wanted to say. But everything seemed inadequate, and he opened his mouth, and nothing came out. All he could think about was Cadyn's laugh, and the jokes they shared, and what he'd probably say about the so-called family members showing up to see him off.
How could he express in mere words, how he felt? The despair when he realised he wasn't there? The fear of living without him? So, stupidly, he hadn't uttered a word, swallowing and looking away. He couldn't bear to, and he couldn't bear to say goodbye.
Suddenly, as he took a step away it felt like his collar was choking him, and he felt like he was burning up. He numbly headed back towards the Institute, before his parents could stop him.
And as he walked away, he could smell the hint of smoke in the air, and he could just faintly hear them, as they concluded with, "We are dust and shadows."
The words he should have said earlier, finally came to him, too late.
"Как мне жить без моей второй половины?" Connor whispered to the wind, his eyes still raw and pained.
"How can I live without my other half?"
Two indistinguishable boys painted in identical Runes,
Standing side by side.
Dark reddish brown hair, with matching fiendish grins,
A sly gleam in their eyes.
One looks into the distance thoughtfully,
The other frowning slightly,
And their arms have been linked since birth.
But nature gives and nature takes,
Their time together always destined to come to an abrupt end.
The question remains; what do you do when your other half is gone?
When one leaves, their reflection still remains in the mirror,
Oh, what a wicked fate!