Chapter Text
Sometimes it did eat Albert up when he looked at those boys in his basement. He'd gutted the basement for the most part, tried to make it different from when he was a kid. The crack that lined the walls still remained, nothing to be done there.
Sometimes though he couldn't help the flashbacks when he stared at the sleeping boys. The way some of them looked so much like him when he'd been down there.
A very long time ago it felt now, he'd grown up with his father and brother across the street. This house? Owned by his dead mother's brother. He acted as if he was helping his father out but the reality was a childhood of suffering.
Suffering of Max being screamed at because after he was born, their mother had complications that lead to her death. Max took away a wife and a sister. Took away Albert's mother but he never screamed at him for that.
Suffering of Albert who would get trapped in the basement. Sometimes his uncle would tell his dad he was taking him to school, but the reality was he'd keep him, hit him with a belt, rape him for hours. He'd been screamed at and beaten for years, but the assault started when Albert was 11.
When Max was turning 11 he was 16, and he kept a very careful eye on his uncle. He did his best to never let them be in a room alone together.
One night though, he'd gone out to a party, to enjoy himself for one night when Max was 12.
He recognized the empty look on Max’s face immediately, Max cried telling him he understood why Albert was more angry when he came home from across the street. He held his younger brother as he begged to tell their father but Albert knew the reality.
Their father knew exactly what their uncle did to Albert, sometimes he joined in on hitting him with a belt, but when things would go further, he'd leave. He would leave Albert to wash his skin with the hottest water he could stand until it was raw and red. He knew what his uncle did to him when they were up at Camp Alpine over years and years.
Albert was just turning 16 when he discovered his uncle trying to carry Max into the basement. He'd pulled Max away and for the time he'd fought so hard he'd drawn blood from the older man. He'd already touched Max, Albert was at least thankful that he saved him from the basement.
He sent Max away, back home, and when he came back Max cried. He was bruised and limping. He knew Albert took his place and it made him sob, while Albert just held his crying brother. Crying for Albert felt less bad than crying over what was done to him.
Albert was still 16 when his uncle dragged him to camp to be a counselor in training. Albert was terrified as he was in a very isolated area with many younger kids, younger boys. He kept a careful eye on his uncle, and every night he wanted to hit himself because he realized the man had infected him with the same sort of sickness. His eyes lingered too much on some boys as he skated around the lake.
Skating on the lake made him nostalgic for skating back home with Max…
Albert was 17 when he graduated high school, the alone time with his uncle had become fewer and fewer. Especially after he'd shown he was capable of fighting back, he didn't for his sake though, just for Max. He hung around the house still to keep an eye on if he tried to get Max or any other boys. He never did. No, he saved everything for Albert.
Albert did graduate, his uncle sold the other house to Albert’s father, in debt from drinking and gambling, who would've guessed. He'd just turned 18 when the anxiety of his uncle suddenly stopped because there was a warrant for his arrest and he'd skipped the state. The noise stopped for a time because his uncle was in jail.
And he was killed in there, he'd written a letter to Albert describing how he'd missed when Albert was young. He missed everything he used to do to Albert and missed the way it felt when Albert had struck him across the face. A guard had read the letter before it was sent and he spread a “rumor”.
Albert was about to turn 18 when he left home. Barely there yet, but he knew Max could hold his own against their father. Max would call him, though after a few years he stopped picking up. He never visited home, but he stayed working at Camp Alpine. He worked maintenance, he'd been told since he was 16 he worked well with his hands. A kind man told him he understood how to fix things better than most. Every year he worked there, it was oddly comforting as a routine, but he realized more and more he had the same sickness that left him infatuated with boys who looked like Max. He would never visit home.
Albert was 29 and Max was 23 when their father passed away suddenly. He'd fallen down the stairs of the basement, one of his drinking buddies found him with his head cracked open.
They cremated him, not what their dad wanted but the cheaper of the options for each brother. The funeral, if you could call it that, was held at the bar he frequented. His urn sat at the bar, Albert watched as men would pour shouts out other it. Men their father’s age shared stories and laughs about the man, meanwhile the brothers, the man's literal children, sat quietly away from everyone else in the corner.
“You…” Max spoke suddenly, eyes on Albert, and Albert looked away finally from the scene that made his blood boil.
“You look like hell.” Max said bluntly, he genuinely made Albert smile. He pushed his beer across the table, Albert shook his head gently.
“I don't drink…not even a sip.” His voice was soft, no edge to it. There would be if it was anyone else. He took a drag of a cigarette, blowing it away from Max.
Max’s eyes traced over the cigarette, a faint smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. “Right…”
Silence fell between them again. Albert didn't mind, Max did.
“what…do you do these days.” Max fidgeted with the best bottle, he'd barely drank any of it himself. Albert licked the filter of the cigarette before taking another drag.
He was nervous to talk to his own younger brother…he had much darker hair more like their father. By the time Albert was 16 he was taller than their dad, Max was also taller their their father but he was the same height as their uncle. He looked wildly different but sometimes Max physically reminded him of the man.
Despite that, all Albert wanted was to reach out and hold him.
“I’m investing and helping this company so I can have my own piece of it…I'm a part time magician, and the other part I help with numbers at the company.”
Max smiled at him, brightly, he almost seemed proud. Each time he'd answered the phone from his father, he slurred that he was wasting time.
“Magic camp was fun wasn't it? I miss that…sometimes.” Albert let more of his cigarette burn than he'd smoked. He stubbed it out on the ashtray on the table.
“What do you do?” Albert folded his arms on the table, leaning closer to Max. Albert had light eyes, like their mom did, in contrast to his hair. Max wished he'd get more sleep because he clearly didn't get much.
“I…work at the tire shop like dad…I hate it.” Albert laughed softly, Max stared, he'd missed that sound.
“What do you want to do?” Albert moved a hand to rest under his cheek, his hair wasn't long right now by any means, but the way some fell over his eyes…it reminded him of when they got pamphlets of Camp Alpine, the house had been Albert’s last listed address for a long time, and Albert's hair was long and wild. Max wondered when he cut it.
“You should grow your hair back out.” Max spoke suddenly. Albert looked at him confused.
“What do you mean?” Max felt his chest tighten.
“I don't…you look the most like you when your hair is longer.” Max said softly.
Albert moved his hand from resting under his cheek to brushing back the hair from his eyes, smiling to himself. His other hand he moved across the table and took the beer from Max’s hands. Albert took only a sip, cringing slightly at the taste.
“You dodged the question.” He spoke softly. Max wanted to reach out and run his fingers over Albert’s hair. Albert had wiped his mouth from the beer with his thumb, sliding it back to Max. Max licked his lips slightly.
“I don't know is the answer…” Max looked down at the table. The faux grain started to burn into his eyes after a minute of silence.
“Get out of Colorado, go find something then. That man is dead, there's no reason to stay here.”
Max shifted his eyes to Albert’s face. He didn't call him “dad”, just “the man.” Lines of the grain stuck in Max’s eyes as he blinked looking at Albert.
“That's…we need to talk about the houses. By dad’s assets I believe they just get split one each to us.” Albert seemed to tense slightly.
“We don't have to keep both but I think we should at least keep one.” Albert stared at him while he spoke, resisting moving his eyes from Max's, knowing if he watched his lips he wouldn't remember a thing.
“Dad got…really and the last couple years. I moved into our uncle's house years ago, I didn't think to pay attention but dad kind of…stopped taking care of a lot of his garbage…it's a fuckin mess in there man.”
Albert sighed, shoulders sinking. “I mean he always kind of had a hoarding problem…”
Albert sat back up straight. “Get what you need from your house, I'll take care of dad’s. We'll chat with whatever lawyer were supposed to and then you can go.”
Max was free…but he felt like he was trapping his brother.
“You don't-”
“It's your turn Max. I know what I'm doing at least somewhat, and I'm lucky for that. Hell don't even try to find a job just yet, go fucking travel. If you're stuck somewhere, call me and I'll come get you. I'll drop you off somewhere else, anywhere you want. Get out of this soul sucker of a town.”
Max shakily moved a hand out to one of Albert's, his hands clasping over Albert’s closed hand. He leaned his forehead into their hands. “Albert…” he said softly.
Albert stared at him. It has been years since they saw each other, let alone since they'd really been this close or open.
“Just…get out of here Max.”
“I missed you…” he whispered sharply to Albert.
They both paid no mind to the way the men at the bar eyed them as they each started to inch closer to each other despite the table between them. They were grown men, brothers, there was nothing weird except their perception of disgust as Max clung onto the hand of his older brother. They'd be more disgusting if they saw the way Albert's heart raced and Max got butterflies.
-
Albert cleared out his father's house, practically throwing everything away for fear of mold or bugs. It felt oddly cathartic to gut the house he grew up in.
His uncle's house however felt so…strange. It was familiar and so different thanks to Max. Max didn't have the best home decorating skills, he'd had the odd girlfriend help him when they lived there. There was a burning jealousy but the most things were Max’s so he couldn't bear to get rid of practically anything. He'd asked about the basement once, Max said he never went down there. Albert also refused.
He got the call in the middle of the night after he'd settled in for a while. Max called him almost every day for months, and sudden radio silence. Albert thought it was payback for all those years, so he's paid no mind to it. Oh if only he knew…
What Albert hadn't banked on Max going on a practically month long bender. “I'm so fucking happy to be out of there man but god…I think I'm being followed.”
Albert grabbed his keys and drove as fast as he could, the place a state over where Max was. The sky was still dark when they sat in the van quietly. Max was rocking himself in the passenger seat while Albert white knuckled the wheel.
Their father drank, Albert smoked an entire pack of cigarettes every two days and his his younger brother was doing fucking cocaine.
“Why?” His voice was tense, but he did his best not to yell at the man beside him.
Max paused his rocking briefly before sitting back in his seat, bouncing his leg.
Albert clenched his jaw. “I'll ask you again, why? This is not what I meant.” his tone was getting lower. His voice getting lower he sounded closer to their dad, Max fidgeted more.
“Since…dad died I've been having nightmares.”
Albert felt tension slightly leave him, but he still gripped the steering wheel.
“What, are you like afraid you'll die?”
Max let out a cry like a whine. Albert turned his head to look at Max out of concern but he knew he just had to keep glancing at him and the road.
“No…it's…” Max hesitated. Albert tensed, he'd had a few nightmares but he hoped he was wrong.
“Do you…remember what happened to us when we were kids?” Albert's jaw clenched, teeth scraping together as his hands kept getting tighter on the wheel. He might have to pull over soon.
“Max…please…” he whispered softly.
“I mean…I know you got it worse but I don't know why! Since Dad has been dead it's all I think about…I don't think about it though when I'm high.”
Albert breathed in sharply. He blinked rapidly. He tried to save Max, and he really really thought he did but clearly, he did not. He failed. He fucked up being his older be like everything else.
He swallowed the lump in his throat. “He didn't stop until he left Colorado.” He said suddenly, his eyes burning as he stared at the road.
Max's eyes widened as he suddenly stopped fidgeting. His pupils were still slightly blown wide from the drugs. “What? I thought you'd said-”
Albert shook his head. “I lied. I wanted to protect you from knowing that. From knowing your brother was so fucking weak and pathetic that as he got taller than that man he still couldn't stop him.” His voice sounded hoarse. His arms shook as he held on to the wheel.
Max blinked, still sort of out it. “Al…Jesus Christ Al no. That man was a monster.”
Albert scraped his teeth together again as he hissed out. “i’m a monster, I couldn't save you, if I hadn't gone to that party.” He gasped out.
Max moved in across the seat and he laid a hand on Albert's shoulder. “Al stop please calm down.”
Suddenly, he glanced in his mirrors. He shook as he turned on his flashers and pulled off to the side of the road. He slammed the car in park and slammed his head forward into his steering wheel, grabbing at the bottom of the wheel. He didn't have the words for it, but the shaking feeling that rose up from his stomach and pushed down hard on his shoulders was a panic attack on its way.
“I couldn't stop him from what he did to me and I practically let him get his hands on you!” He shouted. His eyes burned as he stared, blurry eyes into the wheel.
Max shifted ever closer, wrapping an arm around Albert's torso. The feeling was comfort but he didn't deserve it, so it made him sick.
“You did save me Al.”
“I didn't! You're having nightmares!” He shouted, head still down. If he looked at Max, to those eyes, he never would've raised his voice.
Max pushed his head into the side of Albert's face. It was tight, it felt awkward but his body felt hot with anxiety as he watched as his brother started to break down, sobbing into the steering wheel. “I let him do whatever he wanted just so he wouldn't touch you and he still did.”
“He didn't ever again after that night. When I was supposed to sleepover and you found him taking me to the basement. I've never seen you so angry, not with me, not with dad…what scared me most wasn't you but the way he smiled when you broke his nose.”
Albert moved his hands from holding the wheel to pressing his palms into his face. He was so slouched, curling in, as he heaved out heavy sobs. “He gave it to me Max!”
Max clutched into Albert, worried but confused.
“What?” He said softly, but the hair on his arms raised at the implications.
“I don't like women, I've tried, I tried sleeping with a girl in high school and I was soft the entire time no matter what!” Max’s mouth pulled back into a down, hissing slightly as he cringed. Shit.
“He made me like him…” Albert sobbed ever harder into the wheel but he wasn't ready to say just how much of the sickness the man has passed to him.
“So…what you don't like women? I mean like..I dunno Bowie likes men and he makes good music! And you do good magic.” Albert stopped sniffling somewhat to laugh. He picked up his head, wiping us face, his face drenched with tears as he leaned his head into Max.
Max in return wrapped his arms around Albert's shoulders. It was from the side, a bit awkward but he held his older brother steady. Albert breathed in deep, shakily, before he sat up straight. He pushed some hair behind his ear, Max realized he really was growing his hair out for him.
“Okay Max…I understand why…why you did coke but please try to contain it.” He put his hands on the wheel, Max moved back in place in his seat.
“I will.”
He bumped his knuckles on the back of Albert's hand, like he did when he promised something when they were kids. He swallowed hard as he pulled off into the road again.
Albert shoved his palms deep into his eye sockets sitting on his bed after he essentially tucked Max in, knocking out from the drugs. Albert wanted to pull his hair out from how he had essentially stored away every photo of Max from when he was young and now he was in the other room.
Albert couldn't take this. Max liked being home with his brother for the first time in many years.