|Evan Marchand (bitterlyimmune) wrote in immune_ic,|
@ 2011-11-30 15:39:00
|Entry tags:||# 2011  november, evan, george|
WHO: Evan and George
WHAT: George is not okay. Evan is not okay with that.
WHERE: Grand Central.
WHEN: 11/29, night.
RATING: Medium for language, perhaps?
STATUS: In progress
Evan was fully aware that he wasn't the perfect brother anymore. Not like he used to be anyway. But that didn't mean that he'd lost all the parts of what had made him the perfect brother in the past. Of course he didn't think he'd always been perfect. Not really. But back then, at least he'd had an inkling of what to do. Now, with Olivia and their mother gone, he'd just… fallen on his face when he was trying to pick up the slack with all they'd lost.
That didn't mean, however, that when George needed him he wasn't going to knock down anything and anyone in his path to get to her. Fortunately, when he'd gotten her message about feeling sick and lightheaded, he hadn't been too far away.
However, he crossed the safehouse in record time, getting back to the small area that the Marchands had claimed as their own and approached his sister, face visibly panic stricken as he crouched down beside her and pressed his hand to her forehead. "Georgie?" he asked, calling her by the nickname he'd always called her by as a kid and not caring who heard. "Est tu malade? Tu as besoin de quelque chose?"
Nowadays, even the smallest illnesses could be fatal, and Evan wasn't sure that he could handle losing anyone else. He pressed the back of his hand to George's forehead, feeling for any sign of temperature. No, he may not have been the perfect brother, or a terribly good human being anymore, but that didn't mean that he'd forgotten everything about taking care of people he loved.