Brothers In Arms
A red dot appeared on Travis’s chest, and on instinct he was moving behind cover before the shot can reach him.
He was never a fan of his younger brother’s twisted sense of humor.
People panic when a bullet shatters the glass of some store display, the commotion blending with the ringing in Travis’s ears. His breath shallow and skin clammy, he can only wait hoping Cas had already fled from police.
“Would you say the suspect has any sort of connection to you or your family?” The officer rehearsed, with an expression that said he had already done this twenty times today.
“No, i don’t know the man personally. I just know i’ve seen him around the area acting like he’s capable of making a wikihow on ten different ways to smoke crack,” He answers with that trademark New Jersey bluntness.
Despite the situation, the officer manages to crack an amused smile at travis’s colorful description. The smile is gone just as quick as it appeared when the seasoned cop presses further
“Is there any reason someone may want to harm you or your family?”
“My father’s in prison for a lotta things, he pissed more than a few people off in his lifetime. But i don’t got specifics, and the list is longer than my—,”
“I get the point, mister Morozov. Just contact us if something new pops up.”
Travis fixes his long ebony hair as he exits the police station, eyes darting back and forth across the faces passing by. He can’t help but wonder if Cas is here, stalking him, playing with his head. Travis couldn’t tell the police the truth about Casper, about the boy hidden in the attic.
Even when trying to focus his thoughts elsewhere, all he can think about are those dark blue eyes filled with horror and fear.
It wasn’t anyone’s fault what happened to them. Travis did what he could, leaving to join the military and taking the boy with. It was the only way they’d escape their father. He tried to help Casper, they were brothers after all. But he was beyond help, and everyone knew it. Travis should have never snapped at him like that, said those harsh words. Alerted the enemy.
Indirectly causing the explosion that turned the only family he knew into bits and pieces of unrecognizable flesh. Red visceral horror floods the room until travis feels as if he’s drowning in it. Clawing for a way out, his head surfaces the water with a sharp painful gasp.
He fell asleep in the tub again. His mind still reeling from the dreams that quickly fade into oblivion, he tries to remember how he got there. Was he shot at? Was the officer he spoke to real? He got his answer when his eyes were drawn to the foreign yellow sticky note on the bathroom wall. A singular red dot inked in the middle. There was a fine line between a game and a trap, and the brothers walked on opposite sides of it like two spiders on a kiliedascope web.
Violence
The hardwood floor was chilled by the winter air. It was uncomfortable, but it meant safety. Travis never liked the feeling of warm floors against his feet, it made him look down every five seconds to make sure he wasn’t standing in fresh pools of blood. But the cold wasn’t enough to ease Travis’s mind tonight, not when Casper was back in town.
It took hours before Travis had succumbed to exhaustion, his body on high alert almost as default. Sounds of movement pulled him out of what could have been a peaceful sleep, making Travis get up with weapon in hand. The living room was lit up with an uncomfortable nostalgic orange light, and his father dead on the table. Cas was here, he did this, set this up.
Travis’s panic was pushed to the back of his mind when the white light of day peeked in through the curtains, the bed uncomfortably hot. These nightmares are becoming a pain in the ass.
“You’re late,” was what Travis expected to hear. Instead, he got silence as the whole office watched the news. A shooting at the downtown strip mall, closing down the area. This must be so shocking for them to see, Travis just can’t help but feel contempt for these coddled rich bastards.
“New to violence?” The words leave his mouth with not as much sugarcoating as he probably should have used.
“Save it, Morozov, someone could have gotten real hurt out there,” Cat chided from behind the receptionist desk. As much as Travis wanted to look down upon her sympathetic nature, he knew deep down that his own lack of compassion was why everyone around him got hurt. Not to mention he relied on Cat’s compassion to keep her from saying that out loud.
Bang!
It sounded like someone dropped a dumpster off a five story building. It shook the whole office— in both a figurative and literal sense. Everyone rushed for cover, hoping wherever that sound came from, that their friends and family weren’t anywhere near it.
Only travis hoped Cas was near it. Near enough to be killed, or caught before anyone else got hurt. **** **** **** ****
