Can't Let You Go

            Fellon dug around in the fridge for a bottle of water after a gym workout, and upon retrieving one, shut the door only to immediately get punched in the face.  Anders stood in front of him, fists clenched. “You knew, didn’t you?!”

            Completely blind-sided, Fellon fell back against the counter, blinking against the flare of pain exploding through his face.  “What…  the hell?”  He focused on Anders, seeing the man’s fist still clenched and his words finally registered.  His eyes narrowed. “What are you talking about?”

            “Halloween!  You knew Douglas was being hurt!”

            Fellon stared at Anders for a long moment.  “….Do you really think that if I knew Douglas was being hurt, I would’ve let it happen?”

            “You are tellin’ me you had no idea?!  You can miraculously break down a door when your brother has a gun to his head, but when that is happenin’ to him you have no fuckin’ clue?!”

            Fellon straightened up from the counter, tilting his head side to side, his neck cracking slightly.  “I don’t think you get how this ‘twin thing’ works, Doc. Hell, I don’t even really get it, and we’ve been dealing with it all our lives.”

            “No, I don’t get it…  Your brother seems to know when that,” pointing around the other man toward his back, “was happenin’, but he is having that happen, and you are clueless.”

            Fellon froze, his expression hardening. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

            Anders looked at Fellon. “That happened when you were in military school, didn’t it?  He said he could feel somethin’ was wrong with you, but your parents ignored him.”

            Fellon set his water bottle on the counter, expression clouded.  “…  It’s not like we read each other’s minds.  Douglas has always keyed off the physical, knowing when I’m hurt.  I get images of what he’s thinking and feeling, more or less.  It’s not an exact science.  I didn’t know anything was really wrong on Halloween… until shortly before you came barreling down the stairs.”

            “And what I did to him is worse than everything put together.”  What Fellon said started to sink in, and Anders’ shoulders slumped. Fellon didn’t answer, just leaned back on the counter and crossed his muscled arms over his chest, regarding Anders in silence.  Sinking on to stool, Anders muttered to himself, “Fucking stubborn ass…” He spoke up again, “Of course, he doesn’t see it that way; more I unwittingly saved myself.  He wants me to leave.”

            That caused Fellon to blink.  “He… what?”

            “He thinks I am in danger.  So, to keep me safe, he would rather I stay away from him.”

            Fellon did his by-now signature eyebrow lift.  “…He’s more mental than I originally thought.”  Fellon sighed and straightened once more, grabbing his water and twisting off the cap, taking a sip.  “It’s unfortunately been established to anyone with eyes that you and Douglas are involved.  Only the very stupid would think of actually touching you now.”

            Anders raised an eyebrow of his own, “Unfortunately?”

            “In case you didn’t notice, Douglas is supposed to be the available one.  Obviously, you have issues with… sharing.  We’ll have to do some damage control on that one…”

            “Once again… your family has me clueless…”  Anders sighed, “So, you don’t think I’m in any danger?  Not that that was going to send me running for the hills, you are his brother after all.”

            Fellon shook his head.  “Why do you think Douglas is the one getting all the threats?  He falls for that shit, thinks the Coterie is full of morons.  The Coterie knows if they touch anyone in our circle… they may as well shoot themselves in the head, because that’ll be a hell of a lot more merciful than anything Douglas or I will do.  The management of the Coterie has changed up a few times… and each new leader is a bit smarter than the last.  Good thing…  It gets tiresome teaching the same lesson over and over.”

            “Alright, well I guess there is only one thing left to do then.”

            “And what would that be?”

            Anders stood up with a smirk. “Do what I do best, it seems.  Stubborn him into submission.”

            Fellon chuckled faintly, “I think you are more than capable of doing that.”  Fellon got a bit of a serious expression again.  “You and I have our differences… but Douglas has been happier with you than I’ve ever seen… at least since we were little kids.  That’s what counts.”

            “Good to know,” Anders said with a smile and left to return where he belonged, but turned back around, frowning at Fellon. “One more thing: Douglas thinks you hate him.  I tried to correct him, but I doubt I can fix that one.”

            “Yeah…  I know…” For a split second, a hint of sadness flickered through Fellon’s eyes.  Then it was gone, and Fellon’s usual expression was back in place.  “Can’t have it all, can we?”

            Anders shrugged, “I guess it depends on what you want.  If you want your twin back, he hasn’t gone anywhere.”

            Fellon just stared.  “…Right.  Well, this has been a fun chat.  I need to go… get cleaned up.”

            Anders blushed at the thought of Fellon cleaning up. “Right.  And I need to get back to Douglas before he wakes up and thinks I took his advice.”

            “Oh God, yes please…”  Fellon muttered with a bit of drama… a slight sparkle in his eyes as he noticed Anders’ blush.

            “Heaven forbid…”  Anders said with a chuckle and turned to leave once more, calling over his shoulder. “Sorry for punching you, I figured you would return the favor.”

            Fellon had followed after Anders and caught his arm to halt his progress, sliding up very close to him and speaking softly in his ear, “You’re fucking hot and let me suck that impressive cock of yours.  I figure… you can get one hit in for free.”  With that, Fellon backed up a step. “Now get your ass up to Douglas before he starts going crazy again.”  He slapped Anders’ backside as he spoke and slid past him out the kitchen door.

            Anders froze, watching Fellon disappear before swallowing hard and slowly making his way through the house and up the stairs, at the moment, very grateful Douglas had been asleep and they had been lying with their backs together.

 

*   *   *

 

            Anders wasn’t sure exactly how long he had been asleep, it didn’t feel like very long, and he was still exhausted.  When he had returned, Douglas was still asleep, and Anders had reclaimed his spot, eventually taken by exhaustion despite his concerns.  The room was pitch black, another good indication it couldn’t have been anything close to a decent amount of rest.  There was shaking against his back, the whole bed had a faint tremor running through it.  A small sigh was given in response to the finding; it was to be expected in the withdrawal stage. The rise and fall of the chest at his back also had increased, and Anders was surprised Douglas was actually sleeping at all to be honest, even if fitfully. 

           Settling back into the crook of his arm, he still tried to wrap his head around the idea he could have been so blind.  For the better part of the day as Douglas fought consciousness, he had to fight the images from replaying, trying to see what he should have seen but only succeeding in torturing himself to the point he wanted to be ill himself.  He had every wish Fellon would have punched him back, he deserved it.  Anders tried not to think about Fellon beyond that singular desire, he had enough to sort out without that confusion adding to it.

           Even though he was still angry at the way Douglas had deteriorated under their supervision, part of him understood why they had waited so long to bring him here.  Why would they want the man who left Douglas to suffer anywhere near him?  The man who had seen it for himself and thought the worst of the best thing that had ever happened to him.  That not only left him at the hands of his tormentors, but in part become the largest one himself.  If he had only listened…

           There was a whimper at his back, and he brought a pause to his own troubled mind.  Everything he had taken note of before had seemed to increase slightly.  It was a mild torture to know the single person who could set his mind at ease right now was the one in more dire need of the same.  The tremor graduated to more twitching and jerking, and whimper to whines and tormented moans.

           Anders rolled over completely, wrapping his arm around Douglas’ chest and pressing a hand against the ones jerking.  Anders had been close to tears all day, and the sounds coming from his former lover made it clear this wasn’t just physical dependency being displayed.  He tried not to cry himself as he brought his lips close to the other man’s ear, shushing and pleading for him to calm down while reinforcing things would be alright and he was there.

           “Don’t touch me!”

           A suddenly flurry of moment had Anders tossed back, and there was a loud thump as he was left alone in the bed.  Stunned, Anders searched the darkened room, but the sound of choked tears near it had him crawling towards the vacated side. Douglas was lying on the floor, curled slightly and shaking with sobs.  Anders hopped of the bed, kneeling beside him and without thought reached out, soothing the thick mass of dark hair at a loss.  “Douglas, it’s me…”

           “Don’t touch me!”  Douglas jerked away, slamming into the bed behind him.

           Anders’ first instinct was to pull the other man away from what sounded like a painful impact, but he managed to stop himself, sitting back on his feet.  Reaching up, the bed side lamp turned on with a snap, but Anders returned to his heels, both hands splayed on his thighs.  The other man squinted into the sudden brightness, but the tears didn’t subside.  Every instinct in Anders was telling him to soothe the other, to hold him and kiss him, but all he could do was sit there with silent tears of his own.  He offered the only thing he could, “It’s alright, love.”

           “It’s not.  It’s not alright,” Douglas shook his head.  “You can’t… you can’t touch me.”  His fists and mouth buried into the plush carpeting, repeating his last statement over and over, no longer a demand but a wail of lament.