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Title: Bridge Over Troubled Water
This wasn't supposed to happen. We were told that the surgery would prevent it from happening. Sure, there was a risk, but it was small. Nothing to be worried about. And if it did happen, it would be easier to catch in time.
But we didn't.
Nikki found him. I could picture it, regardless of how badly I didn't want to. She found him in his music room, sitting in his favorite chair, his favorite guitar in his hands.
She thought he was sleeping at first.
My camera clicks as I aim it at the water, capturing the light reflecting off its gentle movement. A bird lifts off from the banks, and my camera clicks again.
We used to go fishing off this bridge. When we were little, long before the band. The band that will never play again. We discussed it, after that first terrifying episode. Zac and I were adamant. We would never, could never do it without our brother.
I look up at the sound of footsteps on the old wooden boards, and smile. Zac flashes his own smile back; it's his trademark smirk, and yet it isn't. I wonder if the world will ever see that million-dollar smile again. I hold up my camera, and he stops long enough for me to take the shot.
Hey," he says softly. His voice is warm and comforting, exactly what I need, but can't find in myself anymore. I nod in response, snapping another picture. My older brother hated having his picture taken, but my younger brother has a mutual love affair with film. All three of us complemented each other; one behind the camera, one in front, and one happily watching from the sidelines.
We were always the perfect triad, even in our outlooks on life. Pessimist, optimist, realist. That's how it's always been; everything in balance. When the situation weighed too heavily on one side, the other two were there to even things out. But now, Zac and I have to readjust, reposition ourselves to keep from falling apart.
Maybe that's why I never noticed before. With our older brother keeping the balance, there was always a measure of distance between Zac and myself. Not in a bad way; that's just how things worked out. But now...
Now our center of gravity is shifting. We're being forced to make a change, either increasing the distance, or closing the gap. I know what choice I want to make. It's surprisingly easy to accept. But only time will tell what Zac will do.
"She's not coming back, is she?" Zac's tone suggests he already knows the answer. I shake my head, confirming his assumption. Natalie was accustomed to a certain lifestyle; we both knew that. I was a trophy, a prize, a meal ticket. Now that there won't be any more fame, or glamour, or luxury, she's moving on to the bigger better deal. I'm not bitter. Any love there was between us died a long time ago, and I honestly hope the best for her.
I sit at the edge of the bridge, letting my legs hang over the side. Zac sits beside me, shoulder to shoulder, hip to hip. I smile smightly, the physical contact more comforting than he knows. Or maybe he does know. I can never tell with him, just how much he sees through me. We've always been affectionate with each other, and sometimes it makes me wonder.
"The kids staying with Mom?" I nod. Our mother will look after my children. It's not that I don't love them. But I'm in no more shape to be a father now, than I was the day any of them were born. If I ever will be. I always wanted kids, eventually. Not at nineteen. To say they were a burden would be cruel. But if I'd been given a choice...
"Tay," Zac starts, his tone uneasy. I look over at him, but he's staring into the distance. I reach over and tuck a stray piece of hair behind his ear, winding it between my fingers. I've always been jealous of his hair; the softness, the dark chestnut color it's become, the way it always seems to be exactly where he wants it.
He looks over at me finally. I'm jealous of his eyes, too. Everyone's always told me I have beautiful eyes, but I think his are far superior. His gaze is piercing, analyzing everything. He can look so innocent, or wicked, or deep, all with a single look. It's always been that way. Maybe that's why I can never deny him anything, when he looks at me like that. I can never deny him anything, really. I can never stand to see him upset, or even know that he's hurting.
I remember one time, our family was having a New Year's party. This was the first year Zac had been invited to join, and he'd been looking forward to it all week. But the day of the party, he came down with a fever, and was sent to bed. He'd cried, and begged, but our mother was firm.
That night, I couldn't enjoy myself. I couldn't stop thinking about him laying there, listening to us have fun downstairs. Finally, unable to stand it, I'd snuck upstairs with a bowl of shrimp and two cans of ginger ale, and rung the new year in with him. That night, we fell asleep together, curled up in his bed. I wonder if he remembers that.
"Africa must be nice this time of year." I cock my head at him, smirking slightly. Zac says random stuff all the time, but this... Or is it so random? He looks down, placing his hand gently, hesitantly, on mine. I look down, my heart racing. His fingers are trembling slightly, as are mine. I turn my hand over, lacing my fingers with his, brushing my thumb over the back of his hand.
"Zac," I whisper, my voice breaking. My eyes meet his again, searching, the way he's searching mine. Is he asking what I think he is? Do I dare to hope? I reach over with my free hand, brushing it against his cheek. He leans into my touch, smiling slightly, his cheeks red. When he opens his eyes again, looking up at me through his lashes, I know.
There is nothing left for us here. Nothing that matters. And no one is that surprised when a week later, the company is sold, our houses auctioned off, and our few posessions shipped to a small village in Mosambik. Our family receives postcards, letters, photographs, once in a while. But they don't bother asking when we're coming home. Because they know, we are home. Finally.
Author: Amber
Prompt: Beetlejuice
Pairings: Zaylor
Ratings: PG?
Warnings: character death, implied slash
Word Count: 1123