Brothersong

by TJ Klune

  He howled then, the cords on his neck sticking out in sharp relief. It made my skin vibrate, and I knew what it meant to want to wake up, to want to know this was real.

  I said, “You’re not alone.”

  I said, “Not anymore.”

  I said, “I’m here. Okay?”

  I said, “I’m here. I swear it.”

  I said, “I’m real.”

  He sagged against me, his skin too warm and slick, and as I whispered to him, as I told him again and again that I was real, I felt him shake and shudder.

  I held on for dear life.

  HE SAID, “I STAYED. Because I couldn’t run. Not anymore. Tired.”

  I looked over at him sitting against the opposite wall in the small bedroom. He’d taken one of the ratty blankets off the remains of the bed and draped it over his shoulders. It was early afternoon, and winter sunlight filtered in through a broken window.

  “In Green Creek.”

  He nodded, blowing out the side of his mouth to get his hair off his face. “I remember. Bits and pieces before… before then. Like little flashes of light. Hunters. Elijah. Always moving. She was mean. And loud. Said we were her pets. No pet. I am no pet.”

  I hesitated. Then, “The other wolf with you. With them. Did… did you know him?”

  He shook his head slowly. “No. Just another wolf. Dead.”

  I grimaced. “Yeah. Gordo was trying to—”

  “Don’t care what Gordo does.”

  “He’s your brother.”

  “Witch,” Gavin growled. “Magic. I hate it. Hate all of it. Father magic. Hurt people. Gordo magic. Hurt people.”

  “Only to protect himself and pack.”

  Gavin glared at me. “Never anything else?”

  I thought about the Omega in the alleyway. Gordo had said he’d let him live, but I hadn’t believed him. “No.”

  “Liar.”

  I was startled into a laugh. “Heard that?”

  He grimaced. “Loud. Your heart is always loud.” He banged his hand against the wall behind him. It echoed throughout the house. “Thump, thump, thump. Always loud. Want to turn it off.”

  “That’s… not how it works.”

  “If you’re dead it does.”

  That was pointed. “Do you want me dead?”

  “Yes.”

  And his own heartbeat betrayed him. A slight flutter, but there nonetheless. “Liar.”

  He scowled at me. “Not lying. You die, I get silence. You die, I don’t have to hear thump, thump, thump always.”

  I said, “Then kill me.”

  His eyes narrowed. “Really?”

  I nodded. “Go ahead.”

  The asshole looked like he was considering it. Then, “Not today. Maybe tomorrow.”

  “Maybe tomorrow,” I echoed. I looked around the room. “Was it nice?”

  “What.”

  “Here.” I waved my hand. “This place. The people in the photograph. Was it nice?”

  “Why?”

  I sighed. “Dude, seriously, this whole answering a question with a question thing is getting old.”

  “Then stop asking questions.”

  “That’s not how this works.”

  He pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders. “That’s not how what works?”

  I leaned my head against the wall. My ears were cold. “At the bar in Green Creek. The Lighthouse. You came. You followed the others.”

  “Hunting them,” he said, sounding oddly proud. “Very good at hunting. Always quiet.”

  “You were going to hurt them.”

  “Easier. Easier to kill. If I did, she wouldn’t hurt me. Wouldn’t cut me. Silver knives on bottom of my paws.”

  I didn’t think it was possible for me to hate Elijah more than I already did. Part of me knew that she’d done something to him and the other wolf to keep them docile, to make them subservient. Outright torture seemed plausible, especially after what she’d done to Chris and Tanner. But hearing it from him made me wish she was still alive so I could kill her myself. She’d gotten off easy. “You didn’t, though. Kill.”

  He fidgeted, obviously knowing where this was headed. “No. I didn’t. Wanted to. But didn’t.”

  “Because I was trying to kill you.”

  He cocked his head, and it was such a wolf thing to do, I almost laughed. I’d seen that look before, though he’d been a timber wolf when he’d done it. He was annoyed. It shouldn’t have calmed me as much as it did. “You could never. Better wolf than you.”

  “You’re bitten. I was born wolf.”

  “You’re too loud,” he retorted. “I kill, I kill them all. But then you came out and said grr.”

  “I did not say grr, you asshole.”

  “Grr,” he repeated, like he was mocking me. “All loud and stupid with your stupid heart.”

  “Thump, thump, thump.”

  He nodded. “Should have killed you.”

  “Why didn’t you?”

  “I could have,” he snapped. “If I wanted to. Torn out your throat. Your stupid heart. Eat it. I would eat it.”

  “Still didn’t do any of that, though.”

  “I was tired. And you were saying grr. Like you were brave. And then you were shouting—”

  “You were trying to drag me into the fucking woods!”

  “Bury you,” he said, and his eyes flashed. “In the woods. Bury you and come back to eat you.”

  I huffed out a breath. “You’re so full of shit. You were trying to keep me away from everyone else. You were trying to protect me.”

  “No. Bury you. Eat you later.”

  “You’re a real son of a bitch, you know that?”

  He was pleased with himself. His lips twitched. Then it faded and he said, “Did you know her?”

  I was taken aback. “Who?”

  He looked away, gritting his teeth. “Nothing.”

  “Oh, no way. Not gonna happen, dude. Who? Who did I know?”

  “Stop. I’m not dude.”

  “I don’t give a shit about that. Who are you—” And then it hit me. I wished it hadn’t. The ice was cracking beneath my feet. “Your mother.”

  He glared down at his lap.

  I said, “No. I…. That was before me. I didn’t—she was already gone.”

  “Oh.”

  “I don’t think I ever even knew her name,” I admitted. “It’s…. I don’t know. There’s this history. Livingstone. Bennetts. It goes back a lot longer than I do. Always together somehow. Like we’re twisted in with each other.”

  “You’re a Bennett.”

  “Glad to know you can retain information. Proud of you.”

  He didn’t appreciate that. “I’m not Livingstone. Not twisted with you.”

  “A rose by any other name,” I said quietly.

  “What?”

  I shook my head. “It’s… something Kelly said to me once. It’s this weight. A name. Especially our name. Bennett. It’s a crown that we can never take off. No matter where I am, no matter what I’m doing, I can’t change that.”

  “Here.”

  “What?”

  “Here,” he said again. “Name doesn’t matter here. No crown. No roses. Just… you. Just Carter.”

  I laughed wetly. “Again. Say it again.”

  He frowned. “What?”

  I could barely breathe. “My name. That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say my name. Again. Please say it again.”

  He said, “Carter, Carter, Carter,” and I remembered him as he once was, a shadow I couldn’t escape. He was there, always there, whether I wanted him to be or not. All those years we were together, his eyes bright and knowing, giving me shit without even uttering a word. And there came a day in the spring, when the flowers were blooming and the trees were alive with green, a day no different than the one before.

  But on this day I’d headed out of the house at the end of the lane and realized he wasn’t following me. And I felt it then, a queer sense of loss disguised
as irritation. I’d gone back in the house, muttering to myself about what a pain in the ass he was, and found him in the kitchen. He didn’t notice I was there, or at least he didn’t acknowledge me. He was staring as if enraptured as my mother swayed near the sink, singing along with an old song on the radio. Elvis asking if you were lonesome tonight, did you miss me tonight, and my mother was singing, singing, singing, a wolfsong, a lovesong, and though her grief had lessened over time, I could still taste it, the ache in her voice. She loved my father despite all his faults and would miss him forever.

  And Gavin.

  Oh god, Gavin.

  How he’d watched her, his eyes bright and knowing though still lost to the animal within. There was curiosity there, and no small amount of wonder tinged with fear. He was… softer, somehow, the closest to human I’d ever seen him. And I wondered—not for the first time, though it was sharper, clearer—how much he knew, how much he retained. If he knew what she was. A queen. A wolf mother. And if he recognized her as a protector.

  He started to move his head up and down like he was nodding. I didn’t know what he was doing at first. It wasn’t until Elvis started singing again that I realized he was moving with the beat of the song. Not dancing, no, but still moving.

  It was the first time I saw him as more than a feral wolf.

  Eventually he stiffened, turning to look at me, expression almost guilty.

  My mother said, “Such a lovely song, don’t you think?”

  She wasn’t talking to me.

  The wolf turned back to her. He stood slowly before walking over to her. He pressed his nose against the palm of her hand. She chuckled, running a finger along his snout up between his eyes to the top of his head. He huffed at her before leaving her be. He bumped into me as he left the kitchen, and I stood there in the kitchen of the house at the end of the lane, unsure what I’d just witnessed.

  My mother said, “He’s got good taste.”

  I found my voice. “In music?”

  Her eyes were shining. “That too.”

  I trailed after the wolf in a daze.

  In the days and weeks and months that followed that spring afternoon, I found them together more and more, always with music playing. Sometimes he moved his head up and down. Other times his tail thumped the floor, keeping the beat of the music. And she never asked him to change, never asked him why, why, why aren’t you human? Why don’t you shift back? Why do you keep on as you are?

  None of that mattered to her.

  I didn’t know how she went on after all that had happened. She was stronger than I could ever be, and she didn’t need to be a witch to know magic.

  Gavin said, “Blue.”

  I blinked, the kitchen fading, leaving only the cold remains of a house that had once been a home. “What?”

  He was watching me, mouth turned down. “Blue. You’re blue. Like ice. Cold.”

  I missed her terribly. “Thank you.”

  “For what?”

  “Saying my name.”

  He looked away. “It’s nothing.”

  “It’s something to me.”

  “Easy,” he said. “You’re easy.”

  I snorted. “Thanks. I think.”

  He shook his head. He was frustrated, opening his mouth, no sound coming out. I waited for him to find the right words. He said, “This.” He waved his hand between the two of us. “This is… not. Right.” He picked at the frayed edges of the blanket. “I’m not… good. In my head. I can’t focus.” He scrunched up his face, sticking out his tongue between his teeth in concentration. “You think. You think you come here. For something. For me. But don’t need this. Don’t need you. Better off somewhere else. You go. I stay.”

  I leaned forward. “I’m only going to say this once more. And then I’m never going to say it again. Listen to me. Okay? Really listen to me this time. Can you do that?”

  His head jerked up and down.

  “Good. I’m not leaving. You don’t need me, fine. You don’t want me, fine. I’m not going to… force. Anything.” My palms were slick with sweat. “I don’t even know how… that works. Like. At all. So. And even if I did—I mean, I’m constantly surrounded by all the homo in our pack, so you would think I’d have some idea, and it’s not like it sounds bad, I just… okay. It’s like—are you laughing at me?”

  The rusty, broken sound crawled up from his throat, and he was huffing out his nose, but he was smiling, and I understood then what Joe had seen in Ox, why Gordo and Mark were always going to find their way back to each other, why Kelly never stopped searching for Robbie. It was warm like a summer day. It was candy canes and pinecones, it was epic and awesome, it was dirt and leaves and rain, it was grass and lake water and sunshine.

  It was a forest so alive, so untouched.

  The surge of affection I felt for him was wild and unexpected. I wanted to reach out and put my hands on him, to press my face against his chest and hear his heart up close.

  I stayed where I was.

  But he laughed.

  Ah, god, he laughed.

  waiting for you/because i am

  The days passed slowly by.

  I was dreaming.

  I wasn’t dreaming.

  I was awake.

  I wasn’t awake.

  I was slipping.

  I wasn’t slipping.

  I was building toward something I couldn’t name.

  I was terrified.

  I was exhilarated.

  I was losing my mind.

  HE STAYED HUMAN in the cabin more and more. He’d disappear into the woods, and though I’d consider following him, my cowardice kept me inside. Livingstone didn’t come back, but I felt him in the surrounding woods, a darkness that pulsed like a dying heart.

  Gavin would be gone for half the day, and I’d wait by the window until he returned.

  He always did.

  On one such day, he stumbled out of the trees as a wolf, his gait uncoordinated. He nearly fell outside the cabin but managed to catch himself at the last second.

  I rushed out the door without thinking.

  I caught him before he collapsed, his head hooking over my shoulder, his fur wet and cold but his body burning hot. I wrapped my arms around his back, asking him if he was hurt, what happened, what did he do to you, what’s wrong, what’s wrong?

  We stayed there for what felt like hours, my knees growing numb, his weight heavy and unwieldy.

  He was trembling, and I couldn’t get him to stop.

  I said, “You can’t keep going on like this. You can’t keep doing this. I don’t know what this is, but it’s hurting you. It’s killing you.”

  He tried to pull away.

  I wouldn’t let him.

  He growled.

  I said, “You have a place. With us. With our pack.” I took a deep breath. “With me. And I know it’s scary. I know it’s not what you wanted, but it’s there all the same. We can leave this place. We can go home. And when we get there, everyone will be furious with us, so angry that we could leave them all behind after everything. And we’ll let them yell at us because it means they love us. It means that they never forgot us.” My voice shook. I was scraped raw, flayed open, lifeblood spilling out and staining the snow. “We’re pack and pack and pack. Don’t you want that? Don’t you want—”

  He pulled away from me.

  He went into the house.

  I stayed outside in the snow.

  HE LET ME HAVE THE BED.

  I told him it was big enough for the both of us, and the thought made my skin thrum.

  He shifted and lay down in front of the fire.

  I stared up at the darkened ceiling, the flames flickering and popping.

  As the night deepened, I said, “Back at the house. Our house. In Green Creek.”

  His ears twitched. He was listening.

  I said, “When the Alpha died. Shannon Wells. More blood spilled needlessly. I was confused. I never asked for this war, never wanted to spend my life fight
ing. I was angry at my father for letting it get this far, even though he’d been dead for years. It felt like we continued to pay for his mistakes. A name is a name is a name, but by any other name… and I remember thinking how easy it would be. For this to all be over. Michelle Hughes was the Alpha of all. She had what she wanted. And then your father was on the screen, thousands of miles away but there all the same. He asked if we weren’t tired of everything, all this death. All this fighting. And it made sense to me, because I was. I hated myself in that moment, because it felt like a betrayal.”

  I turned my head to look at him.

  Violet eyes were watching me.

  I said, “And then he said he wanted Robbie, and I knew there was no way in hell we’d ever let that happen. That even though I could understand where he was coming from, what he wanted would never happen. Still, there was that little voice in the back of my head, and it was whispering what if, what if? I’ll never forgive myself for that.” I closed my eyes. “Then he said your name, and you listened to him. You stood up, and you were listening. I hated you so goddamn much. You didn’t lie, not exactly, but you knew. You knew who you were. What he was to you. What Gordo was to you, and you didn’t say anything.”

  He whined pitifully.

  “But then he said he wanted you. That he wanted you to come to him, and it was like this fire started in my chest. I was never going to let that happen. I was never going to let you go to him. I didn’t understand why. Even in the face of all the little asides, all the knowing smirks that make me feel so goddamn stupid in retrospect. You want to know why I’m here? Why I chased you across miles and miles and for months and months? It’s because it’s not fair. It’s not fair that I finally find something of my own, something all for me, only to have it taken away. Your father was right. I’m tired, Gavin. Of everything. Paying for the mistakes of all those who came before us. All I want is to live free and feel like I’m not dying with every breath I take.” And it was there, finally, the box unlocked. I embraced it as best I could. “You’re my mate. And if you don’t want that, I’ll learn to deal with it. I’ll move on. Find someone else. But even if that happens, I’m not going to leave you behind. Pack doesn’t get left behind. And no matter what else we are to each other, we’re always going to be pack. You were his first. But you’re ours now. Nothing will ever change that.” I opened my eyes, and the shadows danced along the walls.