Emotions Are Stupid
The blood flowed thickly from Gaelbhan's wounds… his little brother, the small boy's chest and left arm practically torn to shreds by the dogs. The dim light seeping through the locked closet door and into the dark space made it appear as a vibrant red but for Everett that moment would be forever gray. He could only watch in horror as an image flickered before his eyes, that of his little brother's gravestone, granite and cold. It felt as if he would be trapped in the moment forever, his trembling hands stained scarlet as a deep, throbbing pain blossomed in his chest, as if his heart had been ripped from his body. Overwhelming dread bubbled up inside him as he desperately hugged the boy close to him, but he was ice cold to the touch. Once joyous blue eyes now gray and empty...staring back at him…
With a startled gasp Everett sat upright, gripping the blanket enveloping him. His terrified hazel gaze swept over the dark room before landing on the window that had slammed shut in the wind. As he slid out of bed, a wave of dizziness crept over him, his steps turning to an unsteady stumble until he collided with the table near the window, gripping the edge of it tightly. He was aware of something clattering to the floor, but in his panic, it sounded distant. He reached out and grabbed the wall nearest to the window, reaching for the latch and quickly shoving it open, leaning against the edge as he took a deep breath of the fresh night air, still damp-smelling from the recent rain.
After a moment, he slowly leaned back into the room, his ragged wheezes had evened out into slow deep breaths, his composure gradually returned to him. The dizziness slowly faded as his gaze slid down to the small frame that had fallen off the table. Carefully, he bent down to pick it up, his eyes locked onto the image before him as he sat back against the wall, biting down on his tongue to quell the sorrow washing over him.
Maeve's painting of their family, that was all it took for Everett's cracked wall of restraint to crumble, tears brimming his eyes. He clutched the splintered wooden frame tightly, looking past the even strokes of the green grass and the faded blue paint meant to be the sky, settling his gaze upon the face that had been too small to detail properly by Maeve's impatient hand. Julienne had once told him it was the happiest memories that hurt the worst, they were the ones that would cut the deepest. He only truly understood what she meant by that now that he was looking at the last remaining thread connecting him to his brother. He focused on the one detail that could be discerned.
Bright, cerulean eyes that even through the faded colors of cheap paint, glistened with the twinkle of mischief and laughter familiar to him. Now, the only thing they were laughing at was him. They were a stone cold reminder of what he'd lost. Slowly, he hugged the painting to his chest, listening to the crackling of the dried paint as he did so. It was in that moment Everett was aware of the change. His heart, plagued with empathy and too big to contain all that he felt, was shattered into so many pieces he knew he wouldn't recover them all to make it whole again. For once, he wasn't overwhelmed with emotions, but felt numb, yet somehow still in agony.
"Everett?"
The sound of a door slowly creaking open drew his attention away from the painting and to the pale, startled face of Julienne von der Ebene. He watched the woman stare for a moment, confusion etched across her features before her eyes drifted down to the small painting in his hands. Disoriented, Everett barely registered her gentle hands gripping his shoulders and helping him to his feet. Although she was a few inches shorter, she still reached up and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, holding him tightly and leading him out of the room. Without having to say a word, the woman had rescued him from himself.
Seraphina's lone eye fluttered open and scrunched into a small squint. In the dark she swept one arm out to feel the comfort of her wife in the bed beside her, but she frowned when it simply flopped down onto an empty blanket. Carefully she propped herself up on her elbows, looking about the empty bedroom before swiping the covers away and getting up out of bed, making her way to the door. She knew Julie occasionally had night terrors, but she'd usually just shake it off and go right back to bed. Something was wrong.
As she opened the door to the hallway, quiet voices drifted up the stairs from the room below. She carefully made her way down the steps, pausing at the base, taking in the scene before her. Her wife and adopted son sitting side by side on the couch in front of a small fire, both glancing upward at large woman's entrance. Sera perked a brow and shifted her attention to the boy.
She instantly noticed the way his normally bright expression had crumbled to reveal an inner agony he was trying desperately to conceal. She was no stranger to suffering in silence, but for whatever reason, she felt her heart crying out for her son. She wanted to help him, she had to help.
Emotions, as Sera viewed them, were stupid, one more thing in the way of personal success, but as much as she tried to avoid them, in certain instances they'd catch up to her and she'd feel them all the same, and too much for that matter. Her one-eyed sapphire stare shifted to her wife, who's eyebrows were knitted together in concern, her arm still resting gently around Everett's tense shoulders. At that moment the blonde woman's eyes flickered upward and their gazes met, no words were said but Sera understood.
They were incapable of having their own child, and while Everett wasn't biologically theirs, there came a point, just recently, where the lines between adopted and blood became blurred. This was their child, and this was what being a parent felt like. The inescapable need to help, but without knowing how… it was a feeling she knew all too well.
It was then that Sera noticed the painting in his hands. She identified it as one that his older sister had made if she recalled correctly. For a time, she understood that it was of importance to him, but lately it appeared as if it was doing him more harm than good.
"Another dream?"
She moved to carefully settle herself beside the pair, eyeing the young man before her as she scooped up her wife's hand. She watched as Everett nodded his head slowly, his eyes still glued to the painting. Slowly, the woman reached out and placed her other hand gently over the painting, waiting for her son to look back up at her and when he did, she spoke.
"It's time to let go."
There was a brief moment of his silence before he shook his head, grimacing.
"I can't.."
Sera felt Julie give her hand a gentle squeeze, and the woman nodded quietly in response.
"You can."
Silence once again fell over the room, the only sound being the quiet crackling of the fire. For a few moments, it remained that way, and then Everett stood. Slowly, he stepped toward the fire, pausing a few feet away from it, the painting gripped tightly in one hand. Sera felt her wife release her hand and watched as she followed the young man over to fireplace, positioning herself beside him.
The one-eyed woman was quick to follow along, moving to stand on the other side of the boy. She moved to place a gentle hand on his shoulder, then simply watched as he tossed the painting into the fire. Julie stiffened beside the pair, sympathy flickering over her features before a small smile graced her lips. Everett had yet to move after destroying the image, staring blankly into the fire. So Seraphina turned to face her family, one arm wrapping around her wife to hold her close and the other pulling her new son into the hug.
The family embraced in silence, watching as the ashes of the past ignited the light of their future.
