76 | weeds; brushstrokes of love

It was a sleepless night, for every time their weary eyes shut, a scream would rip them into alertness. Except for Lucas, who curled up against the bone wall and breathed softly.

Elias leaned next to him, twiddling a strand of the raven hair, soft but tangled.

"How can he sleep with all the racket?" complained Wren, sitting crossed leg and impatiently waiting for morning—or an end to the full crimson moon.

Elias hummed lightly, lazily dragging his gaze to her. "He's not. Not deeply. I'm certain the screams are echoing in the darkness of his mind. But it's easier to pretend to be asleep, than to listen and wait."

At that, a slender hand stretched out and slapped Elias' hand away. Elias smiled, scooting closer to the sleeping man.

"Still pretending to sleep?"

"Stop profiling me." scowled Lucas, eyes stubbornly shut.

"I have to know you to love you."

"Learn to love yourself first."

Elias raised his eyebrows, leaning over Lucas face. "Don't worry, I have enough love in my body for both myself and for you. Want a demonstration?"

Then, Lucas pulled himself up with squinted eyes, striding over to where Kane stood, deeply staring outside of the window. Lucas grabbed the doctor by the sleeve, dragged him to a corner to lean, before promptly lying down at his feet.

Kane stared in bewilderment, already forgetting the horrors he'd been watching. "What's the matter? Are you ill, a stomach ache?"

He moved to crouch down and check for any signs, but Wren waved her hand dismissively. "No, he's just pretending to sleep and needed a human shield."

"A shield... protection?"

Kane's expression lit up at being trusted and relied on by his younger brother, who'd been cold for so long after their reunion. Wren's teasing smirk faltered, and she shook her head as if she wanted to bang it on the wall.

"Never make a joke to a bro-con, I'll keep that in mind." She muttered, eliciting a light laugh from Nora.

Elias frowned at Lucas' running away behaviour, sighing as he turned to look at Nora. "You'll have to continue going in and out of Stories from now on."

"The stories here are diabolical and deadly." protested Wren.

He shot her a calm look, in the swirl of hidden knowledge veiled behind his skin. There was a hint of inattention. He didn't really care what happened to anybody, but he didn't want to see the despair on Lucas' face after the man already lost many.

"There's no choice. She's dug her grave, will she bury herself too?"

"You—"

"It's alright." interjected Nora, raising her hands between them. "I know. Is there any way to leave this Story? If there is, it might be better for me to leave first."

Wren bit back her annoyance, crossing her arms as she pulled out a piece of candy from the air and chewed on it loudly. "Tartarus doesn't really have an objection that you can complete and escape after."

"Five Stories." A tired, quiet voice spoke from the man lying on the ground. Lucas rolled over, stretching grumpily. "If you complete five Stories inside Tartarus, you'll be allowed to leave."

"We might not have enough time." said Wren.

Lucas slumped himself against the wall, with a lack of energy to do anything. He kicked one knee up, propping himself against it. "You should never have followed me here."

A flash of anger rushed across Kane's vision. He snapped his head, pained. "Were we supposed to let you walk into here, with nobody? Not knowing whether you were alive or dead?"

"Yeah. It doesn't matter to you."

"But it does, Lucas. And you said you were beginning to remember."

"Regardless of my memory," said Lucas with a flicker of stubbornness, a need to argue. "I'd never want you to follow me into a death trap."

And Kane, knowing that what Lucas said was true, never felt angrier. Because what had changed in the decade of separation? Lucas didn't want his protection, and Kane wanted, needed to give it.

Because what was his worth otherwise, if he couldn't protect the only thing that mattered? It was the same conversation all over again.

Kane shook his head, crestfallen as he turned and walked through the archway. "I'll observe for any changes outside. Call for me if you need anything."

Elias, silently, moved across the room to sit down beside Lucas. Lucas, who looked equally pained as Kane, feeling a familiar pinch of emotions from a long time ago. Once, he determined, he had a similar argument.

But back then, it was Lucas who had walked away.

Elias looked sideways at the man, surveying the slight furrow in his eyebrows, or the crease of his forehead. "I can't say my interpersonal skills are great, but I've heard it's common for people to want to protect each other."

"I don't need protecting."

"I think you wanted to stand on equal grounds. I think you thought by running away, it would prove your independence when a discussion would've sufficed."

Now Lucas looked confused. "What're you talking about?"

"You'll remember that soon enough."

"Comforting."

"I've never really been good at soothing the mind," smiled Elias with a tilt to his tone as his cerulean eyes gleamed. "But I'm proficient in soothing the body."

Lucas scowled. "I think you'd be better at ruining it."

"That I can do too."

Seeing the lively irritation that Elias had grown familiar to seeing, he swiftly changed the topic before getting sworn at again. "All we can do now is explore five Stories, right? I'll offer you the name of one—an easy one."

"At what cost?" asked Wren skeptically, not trusting an ounce of the man's goodwill. "Why?"

Nora responded more politely, but with the same caution. "I'll repay you for the information. Please tell me, Elias."

"Don't encourage him. He'll start expecting rewards." said Lucas, gaze skimming to the faraway window obscured by a sleek white wall, where Kane would be standing.

"I'll take the reward from you, darling."

"What do you want?"

The response was more obedient than expected, leaving Elias slightly surprised. "Anything?" He thought about it seriously, having received a positive response. "Hey little Miss Teller, can you summon paper and a pen?"

Wren scowled, baring her neat row of teeth viciously. "One, don't ever call me that again. Two, naturally. Who do you think I am?"

She snapped her fingers loudly, and in a puff of purple smoke, a piece of paper and pen landed in the flat surface of her open palm. She grinned. "How's that for a magic show?"

Elias tilted his head, taking the paper and passing it to Lucas. "Not bad."

Lucas received the items, confused. "What?"

"Draw a picture of me."

Lucas' gaze lazily rolled up and then back down at the empty sheet, sighing. It'd been a long time since he'd drawn anything, sketchbooks lost somewhere within the country, wherever he left them last.

"Fine."

Elias was a little excited. "Are you really agreeing to draw a picture of me?"

"Will you shut up if I do?" wondered Lucas. He was willing to do a lot of things for peace and quiet, and drawing was not out of question.

Elias wasn't sure how his own reward got turned into him having to pay something for the drawing, but he didn't really mind.

"I'll do whatever you ask of me."

Lucas held out a hand impatiently. "Pen."

A pen was pressed onto his palm, over the crinkle of paper. Lucas settled onto the ground to use the ground as his surface, and the bothersome man settled beside him.

Lucas sighed again, lowering his gaze. A row of eyelashes brushed against his cheeks, thick and dark. They weren't as visible from the front, Elias noted, but from the side they cast shadows over his pale stare, a sweep of black over white.

The fingers hovered over the paper, thinking for a moment in their frozen time before swiping across the page in wide, confident strokes. Ink tainted the white in imagination, filling the empty space.

However, Elias' expression, rather than becoming fascinated and enamored, grew more confused by the moment.

Wren walked over, bending to take a peek, and snorted.

Lucas' fingers finally stop, hovered over the page as he nodded to himself with a quiet hum of satisfaction. He raised it to Elias, holding the wonderful and expensive gift of his skill work.

Elias took it, and tilted the paper as if looking sideways would change the appearance. Then, he turned it again.

Impatiently, a certain sponge snatched it out of his fingers and pressed it flat, back to its original landscape position. There was no shame in Lucas' observing stare.

Elias takes a deep breath, smiling. "Lucas, what is this?"

"You." said the artist coolly, always entirely honest and genuine.

"More specifically, what is this?"

It was a flurry of brushstrokes made by a singular pen, it was a masterpiece conjured of Lucas' intelligent mind, it was—

"A weed."

Elias deadpanned. "A weed."

"You told me to draw a picture of you." explained Lucas unhelpfully. "Don't you see the resemblance?"

It was certainly a beautiful weed, the tangle of sharp leaves a bold stroke that spilled out of the paper, large and spanning over the entire page. One could insist that it told of an arrogant weed; a confident and proud weed.

A weed, nevertheless.

"While your drawing skills, I hate to admit, are bold and proud, I don't know how you can draw a weed with such personality."

"Your personality." said Lucas. Then, he added, "Then the deal is complete. What Story did you want to recommend?"

Elias gave up, any excitement extinguished by the cold sweeping gaze of Lucas. Perhaps he should've been more specific to prevent any trickery. But it wasn't fair, not really, that Lucas would be an unfair person.

Lucas already turned his gaze away, catching a glimpse of the outside window. The streets aren't entirely devoid of life, little red plants blooming among the cracks and maggots.

Wilted and furled at the ends, but creeping out and spreading across the unnatural streets. Relentless, persistent and always existing, whether it be in hell or reality.

Lucas closed his eyes, hearing Elias discus with Nora about the Story he had in mind. Despite himself, that manipulative businessman didn't forsake his promises to Lucas, even if he might to any other.

The sway of the red weeds, standing in the bloodbath outside, flicker in the darkness of his thoughts. Little, bristling weeds that were annoying and impossible to be rid of.

Persistent, foolish weeds that wouldn't abandon.

When he cracked an eye open again, he saw Elias staring at the paper with the beautiful and arrogant weed, and folding it neatly, carefully before tucking it into his pocket.

Lucas closed his eyes again, and for a few minutes, found himself sinking comfortably into a secure sleep.

When he opened his eyes again, Kane returned with a somber look.

"The murders have come to a stop, and the moon is now dull and faded. We'll be able to head out."

Wren hopped to a standing. "I'll go back into my space—let me know if you need me. It's better with less numbers. Remember, if you're about to die, summon me." Her unnatural gaze was on Nora when she spoke.

Nora smiled with appreciation. "I'll keep that in mind."

Wren waved, walking straight to the door and heading out. From the window, they saw that there was no woman, no person. As if she'd just disappeared.

Lucas, curled on the ground, looked up at Kane. The latter regarded his younger brother quietly, from the slope of his tall nose to the sharp lines on his jaw. His little brother who grew up.

Perhaps others would tell him to not be dramatic, that it'd already been some time since their reunion. But it was only when he couldn't see Lucas anymore that he realized how precious every second was.

Either of them could die at any moment in the apocalypse's whims, and that was a fact.

Nora's time was on a limit, Wren already died once and Elias behaved like some cryptic wizard at times.

Kane knelt down onto one knee, feeling the cold of the marble suspected to be carved bone. He smiled gently, a rare curve of his lips reserved for family.

"Lucas, I'm sorry for overreacting. But please don't act as if I have nothing to do with you, even if you can't remember. Please don't draw a line."

Lucas peered at the other. The rest had cleared the room, though he suspected Elias was eavesdropping—that man was very invested in human relationships. Most likely because he wasn't able to experience them properly anymore.

"I don't know the relationship between us to be comfortable relying on you." admitted Lucas honestly, reading the anxiety and sadness in the doctor's face. "I'm sorry."

Kane was one of the few who would often receive Lucas' pure honesty, a blank sheet of carefully constructed words to express himself. He spoke little, because he enjoyed the quiet and because he was an observer, not a sharer.

But Lucas had rarely lied to Kane. Back then, and now.

The doctor took a breath steadily and offered a weak smile, reaching forward to pull Lucas into a strong embrace. Lucas tensed in surprise before melting in the reliable warmth, a familiar wrap that he hadn't completely recognized during their last, awkward embrace.

"I know, I'm sorry to push you. I said I'd take however long you needed. I'll always be on your side though, know that. More than the blood that ties us, you are the only family I have left. The home that ran away from me."

Lucas' eyes widened as he jerked slightly. "Family." he breathed, small cracks appearing in his lines of memory to reveal the blurry image of a four-person table, seated only by two.

Kane pulled away, sighing. It was different now—the shoulders he held weren't uncertain and small anymore. They were broader, prouder. Independent.

Elias, that intrusive character, had been right about one thing. Kane still saw Lucas as a person to shelter and protect, but he'd already grown to be so reliable. He didn't want, not then or now, a person who would hide him from all bad things in life.

He wanted somebody who he could help, and then receive help in return. An equal trade, a relationship of trust. He wanted to be trusted.

Kane had always trusted Lucas, but maybe a part of him didn't. He didn't trust or believe Lucas when he explained his wants in the future, that he didn't need Kane to sacrifice everything. That was where he'd gone wrong. Kane hadn't listened.

When Lucas properly remembered, they would have a conversation.

One that should've been held long ago.

Kane felt a pair of scalpels in his pockets, a weapon that Alastair had found fitting and likely amusing to give. A weapon that could only be used by a doctor to kill, their familiar weapons of saving perverted into a means of killing.

But in return, they felt like another pair of hands that slipped in and between his fingers, high accuracy if he threw them, a guarantee to cut through most things.

The doctor reminisced for a few moments, turning his head to Elias, leaning against the wall beside Lucas. Unbothered. Kane did wonder what sort of life that man lived, dressed in formal wear, trickery in his expression.

"I heard the conversation you had with Nora. This Story, can you swear that it's our best chance? That we'll live through it."

"Of course not." said Elias coolly, rolling his head back against the wall as a brush of hair swayed over his deep blue eyes. "I'm not magic, nor I do intend to be. You'll either enter the Story I recommend, or another that I don't know."

"Elias." Lucas looked over in warning.

"Don't be mistaken, darling. I can't promise you anything."

"I didn't except anything." Lucas' stare remained unwavering, calm. It flickered to Kane for a brief moment. "The Story has a better chance of survival than others."

"It's less obscene, actually. At the very least, you won't be pitted against each other. Why don't you thank me for my kindness, doctor?" Elias didn't really care, looking more to provoke with a lazy tilt of his chin.

Kane sighed. "I was rash. Thank you."

Elias smiled at the honesty, more amused than softened. He took the opportunity and tilted his head to Lucas. "Don't you have to follow his display of gratefulness?"

"Want me to?" wondered Lucas quietly. "Or I could walk outside and step into an entirely different Story right this instant—"

Threats couldn't shake the all-knowing and proud Elias. And yet, his eyes narrowed and curved, thinking that he definitely wouldn't allow that sponge, no matter how resilient, to wander into some unknown place.

"Alright, I won't tease. Follow me. Whatever I do, wherever I go, follow me."

His low voice was teasing and flirtatious towards Lucas, waiting for the natural scowl to form, but Lucas nodded and Elias felt himself pause.

"I'll follow you."

Three words spoken casually. And knowing Lucas, it was because he really didn't care about following Elias' foolish remarks or comments at times. Or perhaps it was because Lucas knew him, and said it to make the man pause and think.

Thinking that, Lucas raised his eyes with a slight of mischief in the pale gaze. As if knowing that for a brief second, his words surprised Elias.

Make me fall in love with you, Lucas had dared.

Elias, curiously, wondered if he'd lose. If the one falling wouldn't be Lucas.

And what an interesting loss that would be.