Writer:supercat Type: original fiction. Characters: Dessa and Teren Rovere, with small mentions of James. Summary: In the presence of great (as in big, not as in "AWESOME!") news, Dessa makes an unlikely appearance in her brother's dorms after months of ignoring him. Rating: PG-ish. Hurt/Comfort is about all it is. Word-count: 1,675 words.
The door had opened with a brush of carpet, not allowing nearly the dramatic entrance such a visitation would call for. It was an easy thing to say Teren was taken aback at his sister's presence in his rooms; he hadn't even seen her venture into the hallways nearby, seemingly in anticipation of running into him. Because of this avid distance to anything related to him, it put forth an unusual sense of shock and relief to see her stand in the doorway to his dorm that very night. Though, the reason behind it was glaringly obvious from the first words she spoke.
"How long have you known?" Her jaw remained tight, as if holding back the nastier remarks she held in her vocabulary, keeping pleasantries in the conversation until she had the answers she came to receive.
Teren's shoulders slumped forward in defeat as he took a moment to set aside the book he'd been reading on the patterns of economy. He wiped his brow, determining how best to diffuse her seething anger at the situation.
"I've only just gotten word." He admitted, honestly for the time being, "Father rung yesterday." He gazed over his shoulder at her form; both unwilling to be the first to move.
"Yesterday?" She bit out, as if to spit the word out onto the floor at her feet. "And you didn't think it would be a sound idea to tell me?"
"You don't answer my visits for anything else." He snapped, irritated at how she was taking the offensive in such a fragile situation.
All bets off, she went quiet for a moment. Her eyes softened some, as if accepting the hurt he felt from the way she constantly brushed him off from her life.
"I don't want you around him." She sighed, admitting to something that had gone unspoken for so long between the two of them. The subject, it seemed, had changed for the moment.
His brow rose at that, surprised and offended and alleviated to have an answer all at the same time. If they were speaking honestly, he hadn't ever expected her to tell him why she hadn't wanted him around. What was it about that boy that brought about such defensive tendencies in his sister? She'd been rarely adamant about anything else while at school.
He couldn't say he'd never bothered to look into it. James was in his year, after all, and couldn't be too hard to spot if he was actually looking for him. Teren had spotted them together only once. They had unknowingly attended the same friend's party, due to a hiccup on Dessa's scheduling, since Teren wasn't the one that made it his business to ignore his younger sister's existence as of late, and it was a miserable thing to realize that he had never before seen her so happy. It hadn't been a long observation, considering Dessa had spotted him quickly enough and giggled some sappy little comment to the boy she was with to get her a leave from the party without so much as a questionable look. No one could ever accuse his little sister of being dense. In the back of his mind, he had always wondered if James had ever bothered seeking him out, in turn. So much went unsaid in situations such as theirs. It left everyone in the dark.
It was the tapping of her foot that brushed reality back into his mind, like dust blending with the air after a particular stumble in one's sweeping, turning his head upward at the realization of her closer proximity. She kept her arms crossed, always in a defensive position whenever she was around him. It was hard to believe now that they had ever been close. The distance had grown so extreme that the past seemed too far away to touch.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Her voice was quieter now, bits and pieces of her own emotions falling through the slowly dissolving wall of her resolve.
"I knew you'd have to hear it from him."
She scoffed, shaking her head as though it were weighted down by something awfully heavy, "I never want to talk to him. I'd rather talk to you."
Teren let out a small laugh to cover the pain she was so obliviously inflicting to her only brother. Had he really been that horrible? He'd always protected her. He'd been the 'big brother' in every sense of the word. He'd never hurt her more than necessary, nor lied to her more than he found he absolutely had to. The lines had blurred so well into one another that he still couldn't find the exact moment when she had artfully slipped out from under his guard.
"I'm sorry." The words were instant and sincere, though painstakingly foreign, "You know I didn't mean it like that. It's just—" She cut herself off as she crossed the small room to take a seat on the opposite edge of the couch, "I—" This time it wasn't clear why she had stopped at first. It took him a moment of watching her for him to realize that she was crying.
Instinctively, he moved closer, taking her into his arms. She curled into the warmth, routine taking place between them after that. She pressed her nose into the nape of his neck, inhaling the scent of cloves and the spearmint of the gum he habitually chewed after every smoke gracing across her cheek as he looked down his chin at her. He placed a hesitant, feathery kiss against her bangs like an offering of peace as he pulled her closer to him. She was well aware of the bond that she had broken with her insistence of familial separation.
"We'll get through it." He whispered, hopefully. It was clear that even he wasn't sure.
She didn't have anything else to say as she curled into him. Her grip tight against his overshirt, like a child clinging to their sheets after a particularly nasty dream.
It took her a minute before she found her voice; "I miss her." She was shaking for a fraction of a second before a heavy breath smoothed her nerves over again, "I miss her already. Is that stupid?" She looked up at him for the first time then, recognizing their close embrace for precisely what it was, and he felt at ease.
His fingers ran through her hair—it was far longer now than he had remembered—returning to that comforting motion he'd given her all throughout their childhood. It was funny to think how out of place anyone else may find it now that they were so much older. "Of course not." He sighed, although this time it was of a far more affectionate nature, "She was our mother." He coughed, before correcting himself, "Is—she is our mother."
Dessa gave a small nod against his shirt, having cuddled back into a defensive position against his chest as she looked off past the wall that stood so silently before them.
"What happened to your tv?" She asked, wiping at her eyes with the obvious distraction. No one wanted to think about loss for long. It made you feel empty. An emptiness that you would always hope to have replaced in the back of your mind.
"Peter sold it." He rubbed the back of his head before throwing up his hand in a small circular motion, trying to find the right words, "You know. He's insatiable. He doesn't know when it's in his best interest to stop."
Silence fell between them after that.
There was a small "oh" that fell from her lips, but that was the only thing to grace his ears for the following barricade of seconds.
It was hard to say how long they stayed like that; curled awkwardly over the arm of the couch as she hugged close to him. He didn't mind. His night would have consisted of nothing more interesting than this, and it was safe to say her presence was sobering. She was still his sister, as much as she seemed to navigate away from that fact, it was staring them right in the face. They were family. They would always be family, regardless of what they wanted. But, secretly—deep, deep down—Teren was certain that neither of them actually minded.
The small, sleepy shift she made against his torso was what brought his attention around to the sound of her steady breathing pattern. He smiled to himself. She was asleep. He took his time deliberating his next move as he felt the frame of the couch begin to nestle its way uncomfortably snug in-between his shoulder blades at the suggestion of new weight. There was a lengthy pause before he began to shift gently away from her, catching her before she took an awakening spill down against the sofa. He cupped the back of her head as he lifted her into his arms, carrying her with practiced ease across the dorm and into his room. He nudged the blankets open with the toe of his shoe, easing her into the bed as gently as possible. He could sleep on the couch tonight. He didn't mind. It was rare he found himself with reason. He cradled the sheets against her shoulders, standing back as he watched the sheets rise and fall to the rhythm of her breath. It was good to have her back, if only for the night.
In the back of his head, he knew that in the morning nothing would have changed. She would run back to her chosen family and rely on her actual siblings only when need-be. But it was okay, he didn't mind waiting around for her. After all, she would always come back. It was in her nature to come to him when she needed someone most.
He fell asleep shortly after he'd flopped down on the couch, staring intently where his tv had once been until he couldn't hold his eyes open any longer.