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Hero was dehydrated. There were several clues that hinted at this: His head was pounding, for one. His tongue and throat were dry and scratchy, almost painfully so. He was hot all over, and yet, didn't feel a drop of sweat on any of his skin. However, more than any of those little details about him, there was one singular reason that he knew he was dehydrated.
He couldn't cry anymore.
His eyes were itchy and puffy and there were teartracks sticking to his cheeks. His lungs burned with pained gasps of air as he hiccupped against his mom's shoulder. His stomach churned and turned and flip-flopped over itself, a tight knot forming in his gut. Something cold and sharp was stabbing into his heart. He could've been bleeding internally, bright red blood gushing over his bones and soaking into his skin and organs and drowning him from the inside-out.
And yet he could not squeeze out a single tear.
It was so hard to comprehend. Only a handful of minutes ago, he was full on sobbing. A pile of tissues on his parents' bedroom floor and a wet spot on his mom's dress was proof of that. But the moment he stopped, the moment he wiped them away to make room for the new ones, none came. It was so peculiar.
He did feel absolutely wrung out, though. Maybe he was. Like a sponge or an ugly wet shirt.
His mom rubbed his back while he trembled in her embrace. His dad kneeled in front of them both where they sat on the edge of the bed, a steadying hand on his arm. They were both so...warm, and it was a different warmth from the safe cocoon of his blankets. It was a living warmth, and in that moment it struck him that he'd missed the warmth of the living so, so much.
"I miss her, " he whimpered softly. His voice sounded foreign to his ears, and speaking hurt his throat, however quiet it was. "I miss her so much."
His mom tucked a strand of his bangs behind his ear, because his hair grew fast in the year spent unwilling to get it cut. She pressed her lips against his temple and pulled him closer. "I know, baby. I know," She muttered to him. Hero's hands fisted her dress tightly.
He missed Mari so much. So so so so so so much. He missed her with every fiber of his being, with every atom in his body. He missed her so much that it blew up like a balloon beneath his ribcage and filled him to the brim. It grew and grew and pushed on the edges of his soul and popped the seams of his existance, and at any moment he thought he would burst with grief -
But he still did not cry.
Nothing at all happened, in fact. The clock on the walls kept ticking. The cicadas in the forest kept chirping. The blood rushing through his ears kept buzzing.
The feeling rose up above him and then dissipated, filling every crack within him and nothing more. He did not shatter into a million pieces, and he did not explode in a blaze of pain and fury. He just felt tired.
He slowly breathed in and out. His hiccups were gone, and his lungs felt a little more full of oxygen. There was still a deep, dark pit in his stomach, though, and he wasn't sure why.
His dad put a hand on his shoulder, tapping it lightly. Hero turned his head to give him his attention.
His dad cleared his throat. "Hey, kid..." he said, a little hesitantly. Hero saw him glance at his mom for support before looking back at him. "...do you wanna tell us what Kel said to you?'
Someone pressed the pause button on him. He blinked, and his mouth moved, but no words came out. He furrowed his brows a little in thought, and squirmed as the pit in his stomach grew heavier.
"What...Kel said?" He asked. He couldn't for the life of him figure out what that meant. Had Kel said something to him? Kel talked to him every day, but it was always the same greetings and school-related blurbs. Nothing that important.
His dad rubbed his shoulder with his thumb. "We could hear you yelling all the way from the dining room," he said. "We figure it must've been bad if it got you that worked up."
...yelling?
The pit in his stomach ripped a hole through him. His chest began constricting once again. Hero gulped.
...yelling?
Hero doesn't yell. He's never yelled, and especially not at Kel. He - he wouldn't do that. Why would he do something like that? Kel could be irritating, sure, but he's never done anything to warrant being yelled at. So why would Hero do that? Why would -
(His breathing quickened and he closed his eyes because he was suddenly seeing things, suddenly hearing things, suddenly feeling things and he hate hate hated it so much. Kel was so small and shaking so hard and Hero was so big and screaming so loud and it felt so good and he felt so sick)
Why the hell would he do that?
His mom squeezed him tight against her and rocked him back and forth, whispering sweet words and comfort in his ear. Her touch burned him to the core. He didn't deserve to be comforted, he was a monster , dear god - why was he still here?
A pin dropped in the back of his head.
Why were they still here? Why were they focusing all their attention on him? Why...why were they assuming he was the victim? Were they blind?
His dad stood up. He looked upset. "Nevermind, Hero. Don't worry about it." He patted Hero once on the shoulder and then ruffled his hair. "I'll just ask him. "
Hero's eyes widened. He shot up and grabbed his dad's sleeve. "No! " He blurted out, blood pumping. "Don't - don't talk to him, he - I - Just don't! " His parents stared at him. Hero bit his lip. He couldn't let them get to Kel first. They wouldn't believe a word he'd say, or understand anything about what happened. "I - I want to talk to him...before you guys do. He - he didn't do anything wrong, I promise."
His dad frowned. "Hero, I know you like taking responsibilty for him, but this is not just something we can sweep under the rug."
"I know that!" He exclaimed, "And I'm not just covering for him! It was really my fault..!"
His parents looked at each other over his shoulder, communicating wordlessly. After a moment, his dad sighed heavily, and sat next to him, leaving him sandwiched between his parents. "Alright, kid, have it your way, " he said. Hero could've cried out with relief, but then his dad continued, "But we're not letting you talk to him until we're sure you're okay."
His heart stopped. "W- what?" He stuttered. He looked at his mom, hoping she'd say something, but she simply shook her head.
"If it's the way you say it is, dear, then we don't want you to get too worked up and have it happen again, " She said gently. Her voice was apologetic, but her eyes were stern. Hero's breath shook.
"But -" he needed to make things right, he needed to apologize, he needed to make sure Kel was okay, he needed to make sure Kel didn't take what he said to heart, he -
"No buts," his mom said. "This is for your own good."
Hero knew what that tone of voice meant. He was fighting a losing battle.
He slumped against her, defeated and uneasy. Maybe she was right. Maybe he should wait until he was fully put together to face Kel again. It wouldn't do to try and be sincere with his brother if he couldn't bring himself to look him in the eye, after all.
He'd just...sit here, then, and soak in his parents' warmth. Kel would be fine.
...
They let him leave after what felt like hours. It couldn't have been, though. The clock only read fifteen minutes later from when he checked it after he first calmed down. It was practically no time at all, but Hero...really did feel better, in a way. He felt sturdier - more stable.
So, when his parents finally released him with reassuring words and worried gazes, he headed straight for his and Kel's shared room, intent on having a heart-to-heart with his dear little brother.
He opened the door.
The room was empty.
Kel's closet was flung open, and the box of toys that usually sat at the back was overturned in front of it, contents strewn across the floor. Hero had personally helped Kel organize the box a few years ago, and despite the time that's passed since then he could still tell that something was missing from the pile, even if he couldn't quite pin-point what. He pinched himself on the arm to keep himself from panicking.
Kel was...probably just in the backyard or off in the park somewhere playing. Hero knew he worked through his feelings best when he was active. The more worked up he got, the more jittery and restless he became. He was probably just working off that energy somewhere.
Hero nodded to himself. Yes. Kel was fine.
He took a deep breath, and turned around, this time headed for downstairs. He'd check the backyard first. It was closer, and at this time of evening, it was safer for a twelve-year old boy than the park.
(He paused on the last step, and shook his head. Kel was thirteen, almost fourteen. He wasn't twelve anymore. He needed to remember that. He had to make up for those birthdays.)
The living room was still and quiet when he walked in. It'd been a while since he made the trip downstairs, and for some reason he was surprised to see it so unchanged. Hector's massacred toys were scattered around, an ever-present walking hazard that never stayed gone long. The TV's volume was on low, one of his mom's favorite pre-recorded dramas showing on screen. He had no clue what was going on in it, but it looked entertaining.
Hero was on edge. He stepped lightly through the room, as if one wrong move would mean imminent death. His fingers tapped against his thighs as he walked, and he chewed on the inside of his cheek. His nerves were screaming at him that something bad was about to happen, and he was doing his best to scream back that everything was fine.
He inspected the shoe rack next to the front door. Kel's shoes were still not-so-neatly placed next to it, so unless he was running around barefoot, there's no way he was anywhere in town. Hero hoped he wasn't running around without his shoes. He could get sick that way.
Logically, this meant Kel was probably in the backyard, playing with...whatever he got from his closet. His anxiety increased tenfold. Hero pinched himself again to force it away.
He slowly walked to the sliding glass door that led to their backyard. It felt like there was something physical both dragging him forward and trying to pull him back, like he was strapped to one of those medieval torture machines. He was being torn in half with no escape in sight.
He opened the door and stepped outside.
Despite his earlier insights on his brother's footwear, Hero himself had completely forgotten to put on shoes. The grass was cold and wet on his feet, and the wind sent a chill through his thin pajamas. He shivered, and walked through the yard a little faster. He couldn't see or hear Kel yet, but it was a small backyard, so it wouldn't take long to find him.
At least, it shouldn't. Hero was having an oddly difficult time, though. The sun was set low behind the trees, and the lack of light made it a little hard to see. Kel always wore bright clothes, though - so even with the poor lighting, he should stick out like a sore thumb.
Something neon flickered in the corner of his eye. Hero sighed in relief. There he was. He was just hiding behind one of the trees. The fact that he was trying to hide from Hero was...a little less relieving, maybe, but it would soon be remedied. Hero would apologize, and they would be fine again. They would be okay.
He walked toward the tree Kel was hiding behind. As he did, the flash of color once again peeked out from it, and...Hero thought it was a little strange. He was pretty sure it was Kel's shirt sleeve, but it looked...strangely high up. Was Kel standing on something?
(He remembered what he said during their fight.)
"Kel?" He called out. There was no response, not that he thought Kel would talk back to him after what just happened. He pinched himself hard enough to bruise and walked a little faster.
The closer he got, the more nauseous he felt, because he couldn't remember any of Kel's toys being big enough to make him look that tall. At the same time, though, there's no way he was just sitting on one of the tree branches.
(He thought about what toy could've possibly been missing from the box.)
...maybe Kel had a growth spurt that he didn't notice.
Yeah! That had to be it. Kel had a growth spurt, but Hero simply couldn't tell through his tunnel vision. He was older now, so he was bound to be taller. Silly Hero! Always worrying too hard about nothing. They'd laugh about this one day, surely, when they were far older and sharing a drink together.
He smiled to himself, because he definitely believed what he was telling himself. His hands trembled, but it was from the chilly evening. His eyes burned, but it was allergies. He hasn't gone outside in so long , so he was obviously sensitive to pollen now. That would also explain the tightness in his chest and the churning in his gut.
He put his hand on the base of the tree, and used it as a support to almost drag himself around to the other side. For some reason, he couldn't bring himself to look up. He was captivated by the strange shadow at his feet.
(Something creaked.)
He couldn't quite make out its shape. Its outline was blurred with the growing shadows of the evening.
(Something was brown. Something was orange.)
He squeezed his eyes shut and pondered what it could possibly be. It was such a mystery - he wasn't sure if he'd ever seen something like it.
(Something creaked.)
Hero's breath hitched. He was so bothered by the shadow.
(Something kept swaying into view.)
What the hell was it?
(Something creaked.)
What...
(Something creaked. Something creaked. Something creaked.)
He fell to his knees and gripped his hair.
What did he do?
He thought he couldn't cry anymore. He ran out of water to use for tears. But there was something wet in the corners of his eyes, and there was something wet lodged in his throat, and there was something wet trailing down his cheeks and falling onto his pants.
Maybe it was his blood, if he was out of water. Maybe he was crying blood - clear blood, straight from his bone marrow. That would explain why every tear felt like it was tearing him apart and turning his insides out. Clear blood burned his skin and soaked into his clothes, forever and ever staining them because he didn't think he could ever clean it out.
"I'm sorry -" He choked out against the clear blood filling up his lungs, against the invisible claws racking down his throat, "I didn't mean it - I swear -!"
(Kel heard him when he said he wished he died instead.)
Kel did not hear him apologize.