Original Stories Fan Fiction ❯ Inside Out ❯ Unnamed ( Chapter 18 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

Elisa’s cheeks flamed, and he ducked his head to avoid Lucas’s expression. The room fell into silence once more, and Lucas’s body shifted beneath Elias. Within seconds they were sitting up, and Elisa had slid from the warmth of his brother and curled up near the opposite end of the couch. When he dared to lift his head, Lucas’s eyes were locked onto Sheek’s, his expression unreadable save for the frown that drew his eyebrows together. He remained silent and struggled to quell the angry questions that were bubbling up inside if him, demanding for answers. Taking a deep breath, he exhaled through his nose and bit out, “I don’t want to live with our Aunt.”

Noone spoke after that, and Elias’s nerves burned with the anticipation of an answer. When one minute stretched into two and then three, he panicked. Lifting his head, he leaned forward and grabbed a hold of his brothers’s hand. He couldn’t keep his eyes from watering, and a small sob shook his small figure. “You’re not going to leave me, Lucas, right? Please don’t leave me.”

He had meant for it to sound like a command, but it had come out as more of a plea. Lucas couldn’t maintain a stoic expression, and his face crumpled into something resembling agony. His fingers tightened on Elias’s hand, and Sheek stood, before coming to sit on the other side of Elias as he moved closer to his brother. Lucas still refused to say anything, and it was finally Sheek who broke the tense silence that was growing amongst them.

“Not everything will work out the way we want it,” he began gently, “ but you have to keep in mind Elias, that although you might not be able to see Lucas as often, living apart from one another doesn’t mean you will never see him again.”

Elias nodded, taking this into consideration -- for perhaps no more than a moment. He found it hard to believe that he had ever felt ill of his brother. If he was mad, it was at himself. That he had managed to be able to develop such feelings for Lucas; for not minding if he were to kiss him once or twice. He couldn’t imagine a day without his brother, never mind having him removed completely from his life. The ache that began in his chest at the thought caused his grip on Luca’s fingers to tighten. He returned the pressure, and Elias turned wide eyes to his brother.

“You’re not going to do anything?” he asked. His voice trembled, and he lacked the strength to make it rise above a whisper. Lucas still did not respond, but his pained, unsure expression was all he needed for an answer. Elias ripped his fingers from Lucas’s grasp, and stood abruptly. He marched to the opposite end of the room and stood, rigid, by the arm-chair and holding himself. Lucas made no attempt to rise or to follow, and he simply dropped his eyes on his hands as they settled back in his lap.

“So that’s it then?” Elias asked, ignoring the hysteria that was creeping into his voice. “After all of.. all of that, you’re just going to drop me? Am I not amusing anymore?”

Lucas did stand then, and Sheek leaned further back into the couch. Elias transfered his gaze from one lanky figure to the next. He could feel the burn in his throat, and the betraying tremble of his lower lip. Instead of crying, he stepped back and threw an accusatory finger to Lucas.

“None of this meant anything to you, ever, did it?”

“Elias, you don’t understand,” Lucas began, “if you’d just let me--”

“Shut up!” Elias cried, drowning out the last of his sentence. “I’m sick of this! Stop playing games with me, I can’t handle it. This is so... this is so fucked,” he sobbed, his arm wavering. He shot a tearful glance to Sheek, before dropping his gaze altogether. “You’re sick,” he murmured, “doing this to me. How could you just let me go?”

Turning on his heel, he stalked into Sheek’s room and slammed the door. With a resounding thud as he kicked the dresser, and the entire suite was encompassed in silence.

Lucas didn’t smoke often. He thought the habit disgusting, but he had damn near finished a pack within two hours of their argument. He paced the living room silently, the dinner Sheek had prepared entirely forgotten. Elias hadn’t left the room, not even to go to the washroom, and as each tense moment went by, so did another cigarette. Sheek was watching him, expression unusually blank, with his arms crossed. Lucas was on auto-pilot. Light the cigarette, take a deep drag, exhale. Inhale, exhale. He struggled to keep his breathing even; he was very near hysteria himself. He could feel his control, literally and figuratvily on this situation, slipping slowly. He turned sharply around the coffee table, and leaned down to stub out yet another butt into the ashtray.

As he reached for the pack -- its supply had deminished extrordanarily since his quick jaunt down to the drugstore -- Sheek snatched it from his fingers. Lucas shot him an angry almost desperate glare, before crumpling into a heap on the floor near the other mans’ feet. They were quiet yet another moment, before Sheek leaned forward and draped his arms around him in a loose but comforting embrace.

“What am I going to do?” he asked, his gaze unfocused, and his tone incredulous. His body was wired, and he was giddy from too much nicotine. “What the fuck am I going to do, Sheek? I can’t watch him by myself. I couldn’t even afford a place on my own. And with all those fucking hospital bills...”
Sheeks’ arms tightened around him, and he gave him a kiss on the back of his head. “Your mother will be fine,” he murmured in his ear, “you’ll all be fine; we just need to take this one day at a time. Give him some space-- he’ll come around, Lucas, you know he will.”

“Did you see?” Lucas asked quietly, lifting a hand to take hold of Sheeks’ forearm. His grip was firm, almost as if he were afraid to let go. “Did you see the way he looked at me?”

“He’s upset,” Sheek responded mechanically; his own voice was empty. “He needs to calm down, and he’ll start to see things more clearly.”
“I can’t,” Lucas bit out, “I can’t let him just go, Sheek.”
“This isn’t about you,” Sheek began gently. “It’s what’s best for him. This way you know he’ll be alright. He’ll have people who can watch over him. Sometime down the road, maybe you’ll be able to take on the responsibility of being his Gaurdian, but right now Lucas you’re just not ready.”

His silence was his agreement, and Lucas pulled himself to his feet. He grabbed the pack of smokes off Sheek’s thigh, and placing one between his lips, took the lighter and headed out towards the balcony. Sheek said nothing as he slipped from his arms, and simply watched as he stepped outside, before sliding the glass door shut behind him.


Authors Note:

Holy Jesus.
Mm.. short chapter; it's been a year.
Too busy to have continued, but things are going a little easier now.
Hopefully I'll have abother update ready soon.