early april, late march ; duke&av blitz

[ᴥ]

duke baptiste

It's an unremarkable thing.

Scrawled on the whiteboard in his dorm room in pink dry-erase because it's the only marker that hasn't dried out.

Contact Request: Avriel Baptiste.

Duke stares at the letters until they lose their form, chokes on the cherry blossoms clawing their way up his throat. He hasn't counted the days since he last spoke to his brother, that seemed like a collection that would only grow more bitter as it aged. The articles he'd read made it seem like he was happy, so he folded them up into paper hearts and kept them in a drawer.

That was the closest they would ever be.

He was content with that. After so many years of suffering, being okay was just about the best thing he could hope for. Nothing needed to change, in fact, he'd rather it didn't.

This makes him itchy. The rash crawling up his neck is pink too.

Duke paces his room for a while. It would be rude to ignore a message, right? Perhaps he needed something from home. He was not an expert on things like falling in love or marrying fancy boys from the upper districts. Maybe there's a ritual to these things.

Avriel wouldn't reach out if it wasn't an emergency and - oh no - that means something is wrong.

He leaves his dorm the minute the thought strikes him, storming into the call center for the first time since he enrolled. He'd had no use of the place before, it's strangely comfortable. With couches for lounging and curtains for privacy. "I like the orchids." He tells teacher behind the desk, "How do they get sunlight here? Its-"

Duke remembers that Avriel is probably dying and shakes his head clear of floral distraction, "I'd like to call Avriel Baptiste please and thank you."

Even still, he doesn't really expect him to pick up. Duke doesn't know what to say when he does.

"Av...riel." He stumbles over the old nickname, it doesn't feel like it belongs on his tongue anymore, "I saw you called, is everything okay? Have I done something wrong? Please don't tell me I've already ruined the wedding I-"

Which, frankly, he has no idea how he would have managed to do but it's good to cover all bases.

"Um. Hi. By the way."

[✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ]

a v

"You what?"

"Precious boy, you heard me, don't play pretend," Gloria's voice oozes down the line like molasses, too sweet and overly heavy, she knows what she's done. "I had to, didn't I? It's not like you would invite them yourself."

He hangs up on her.

Avriel stares at single line of digits in his phone, brow furrowed, thumb inching closer and closer to the little green call button. His head feels light, as if the last thought to exit his brain left the door wide open. Nothing's happening in there.

At the half hour mark, Eden reaches over his shoulder and presses it for him. He kisses the top of Avriel's head as he retreats, a hand trailing off of his shoulder. The touch is gentle and the action kind, it still condemns him.

The whole process takes all of ten seconds.

"Avriel. Baptiste. I'm requesting a call back from my brother, his nam-. Ok Thanks."

After that, he waits. He's not really sure how long these things take, he doesn't know when Duke will find out he called and then after that maybe Duke will take awhile to call him back, if he'll even call back. Avriel could also miss his call.

That can't happen.

He puts the phone volume all the way up and carries it with him into the afternoon. He steers clear of his workshop, too afraid to get caught up in a project. Even so, by the time the call comes, Av's got a brush in one hand and a ladder in the other. White drips onto the rooftop as he fumbles with his phone, flipping it open on his chin, breathless by the time he answers.

For a moment the line is silent.

"Av" "Duke?" "riel."

"I saw you called, is-" "I'm sorry about- oops" "Please don't tell me I've already ruined the wedding I-" "What? No, that's- one sec."

Avriel sticks the handle of the paint brush in his mouth and finishes climbing up onto the roof. He drops the brush out of his mouth, it leaves his mouth dry. In the pocket of quiet comes his little brother's soft 'hi.' The crackle he had when he was 15 is gone, his tone deeper.

"Hey," Avriel whispers.

He forgets why he called for a moment. It's been so long since he last spoke to him, there are so many things to say, he's at a loss on where to begin. "Duke, I- I know we're not... Gloria sent the invitation, I told her not to bother you guys, I'm sorry."

He pauses.

"Also the pumpkin you planted keeps coming back bigger, the deers love it."

And I miss you.

"And the tree in the backyard, it's covered in plum blossoms."

[ᴥ]

duke baptiste

He retains none of their scramble of syllables. Bubbling with melancholy giggles because they used to know how to fill in each other's gaps instead. Everything Duke does is a little clumsy, like he's grown too big for his own good. There's still a part of him that's small, scared and smelling burnt cherries while waiting for his mother to come home.

Time doesn't wait like that. It moves on, and the grains of sand get heavier. He's spent many of his teenage years drowning in an hourglass. Off the top of his head, he can't remember how old Avriel is. "Bother me? It wasn't bothering."

He'd read about the wedding through an article; he hadn't expected an invitation. Duke was perfectly content with loving him from a distance. An adoration dosed with Novocain. Safer than thinking about tangled lies told for the greater good, safer than wondering why he was such an easy person to avoid.

He had really hoped that the invitation had come from Avriel.

Duke should know better.

"But I figured it was something like that." He says slowly, trying to parse out what his brother most wants to hear. It's hard now that he's more of a stranger than a friend. "I won't go, then?" He thinks about apologizing, but Avriel has already done that. Duke isn't too sure why, though.

"I'm doing great, by the way. I know you're doing great too 'cause I read all about you." He holds the phone tightly, as if it were Avriel's hand. He wants to keep him around a little longer. "Wow. You're getting married. Apparently it's going to be a real big thing." He laughs, "Every day you're a little father away.

Like a star. Burning, then dying. Always out of reach.

"I hope you can still enjoy it."

He worries his lip between his teeth.

"Do you... like real big things now?"

[✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ]

a v

Duke's laugh over the line is like a magic spell. A smile breaks open Avriel's face as if it's the most natural thing. He doesn't know what made it happen but Av doesn't care, he'll just input words until Duke laughs again.

"But I want-"

The line lags, Duke's still talking. He can hear the downward tilt in his tone, the moment before already a distant memory. Avriel's free hand opens and closes in his lap as he listens.

Of course I want you there.

His mind goes to the drawer of fireworks in the workshop, the ones he's been perfecting all these years, a new one for each of Duke's birthdays that have passed since he left. There's a few in there, Duke was just a kid when he left, they both were.

"I haven't gone anywhere Duke, I'm still right here," he says. That isn't what he asked but Avriel's held words back between them for so long. This feels like boats passing on the river at night, lights flashing in the dark, brief messages sent via flashing lights. He has so little time to say everything he needs to, little time before the receiver clicks and Duke's gone again.

"And the magazines don't know shit. They just make things up or write whatever Gloria wants them to say, except the one about about me being in ten different cake shops, that was true, I was looking for that croissant thing you used to make all the time, but guess what? Found jackshit."

He lays back on the roof, "Also I got chickens."

No, not the right moment. He has so many things to tell Duke, there's not enough time to say it all. He's got questions too, hundreds of little things he's thought about over the years and, "You know your teachers send letters? They said you're in the top percent of the school, I'm so proud of you, mom and dad wou-."

He smells the cherry pie before he even thinks about it. Has to pull the phone away from his ear for a moment, has to press his fingers to his forehead so hard he can't think of anything at all.

"Sorry," he says, "I'm sorry."

His mouth opens and closes, then opens again. He's messing things up. He's always going to be bad at this, he made the mistake before of thinking his siblings would always understand him anyway but he can't do that again. He's got to be clear. Eden would pinch him if he wasn't below him, clattering around in the kitchen.

"I still really hate big things. Everyone's always staring at me or trying to grab me, sometimes both. I wanted to just go to the Justice building," Avriel says lightly. He knew as soon as Gloria mentioned marriage that it would never happen but a person can dream. He's come to terms with it by now, especially once he realised that no matter how much he hates big things, this time, Eden would be beside him for all of it.

"But if you're there then it'll be okay."

[ᴥ]

duke baptiste

At some point Duke starts pinching himself, half-convinced this is all a dream. "Wow." He likes to listen to Avriel talk, filling in all the gaps that had corroded over the years. "You keep saying sorry, I'm sort of tired of hearing it." With all the gentle force he can manage.

Maybe they can't keep living in their childhood home. If it's too haunted, maybe now is the time to start on new foundation. "I just- I'm sorry too. For what it's worth." He could have reached out - by the sound of it Avriel might have answered. But what good would a conversation have done if Av was too busy cleaning the blood out from under his nailbeds.

All this wondering will drive him mad, so instead, "But what good does sorry do?" He says it like it's a question, but it's really not. Duke smiles into the receiver, and it's not all kind. His feelings are careful, controlled things and they are always pleasant. There's a levity to his words, like they'll all float away if he's not careful.

"Remember those stray dogs I tried to hide in my bedroom? We're just like them. Chasing our tails 'til we're dizzy." Duke knows there's a lot more than their relationship that Avriel regrets, but he'll never be able to understand that kind of pain.

And he's just so happy to hear his voice. It's like he finally has permission to feel all the broken things inside him. The way they've torn at him for years, splintering into his bloodstream and calcifying in the hollows of his bones. The pressure of tears behind his eyes is acrid, "I have a few friends." That's a lie, "They say I'm the stupidest smart person I know. Um."

He casts his gaze around the room, it lands on the orchids, "I don't know how to go to a wedding, Av. I don't think I'll make it better. I think you believe in me a little too much."

They're not even face to face, he knows the boy Avriel pictures is one that hardly exists anymore. "But I want to go anyway. So, no taking that back."

[✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ]

a v

Avriel wants to be good for Duke.

He wants to be the big brother that he deserves, but it's taken so long for him to even get to a place where he's able to see himself as deserving too. Maybe it'll never happen. Maybe the best he can hope for is pleasant conversations over the phone every now and then.

It's so strange. Everything they grew up was brought over to Victor's Village the moment Avriel won. Their mom's old record player is still in the living room and the grandfather clock in the hall was their grandfather's. Sometimes it's like he lives in a museum. All these memories are tied to them, they sit at the back of Avriel's mouth, waiting.

"I-" he falters in trying to answer Duke's non-question.

He carries a lot of regret for such a short-lived life. There's a lot to be sorry for. Av squeezes his eyes shut, sorting it all into different categories, all of the things he wish he'd done better for Duke. When he thinks back on it, he knows intellectually that he was just a kid too but it doesn't make it any better. His brother had to grow up without their parents, then without him and Billie and nothing he says or does will ever fix that.

"Yeah I remember them," he says quietly, "Had to go when one tore Dad's best shirt to shreds."

There's a prickling behind his eyes, an overwhelming wave of warmth and ever aching fear that even with this phone call, his brother is only getting further and further out of reach. That old heavy feeling crawls onto his chest, slips its claws into his skin, it's a sharp pain, It makes it hard to speak.

He laughs a little when Duke quotes his friends but it's a little strained. He can still smell the cherry pie and the iron scent of blood. It blends together, the pine trees in the arena, the dirt, the scent of rot and torn flesh and dying breaths, it all becomes one big thing. Av doesn't know how to explain all of it to anyone, not even Eden who knows so much, it's all so big.

"I don't," he argues, voice higher in his protest, "Duke, you're my little brother, I know what kind of person you are, I bet you still save snails off the sidewalk."

He pauses, hand opening and closing, teeth pressing together, there are too many things in his pockets, he has to reach down and pull keys, a pen, a lighter, a pocket tool out, he has to sit up to do it. They clatter onto the roof and slide down into the gutter.

"I buy your school photos every year. Didn't know if that was okay but I had to. Had to watch you grow up."

He puts his face in his free hand and squeezes gently until he feels his cheekbone beneath his thumb.

"I love you, you know? I love you."

[ᴥ]

duke baptiste

Watching him grow up, loving him quietly. It's nice that Avriel did all that.

Decadence falls around him, in the silk embroidery on his seat and pleasantly floral wax melting in the wall-mounted porcelain fixtures. Av send him to a good school, full of good people. He had a tutor who talked him through math and a baking class that never included cherries in their recipes. He'd been provided happiness on a silver platter, of course he was grateful for it.

"I love you too." He says, a whisper in the the hard plastic receiver. Surrounded on all sides by his brother's kindness, notably absent was Avriel Baptiste. Duke's soft exhales echo back at him, harsh against the microphone. He tries to find the words to convey what he's feeling, but the colors are all mashed up.

Av's right, Duke still is the boy that saves snails. Has a glued together shell sitting on his end-table because the ones he couldn't stop thinking about all the ones he didn't save. So much more than a handful baked under the sun or crushed beneath polished dress shoes. Sometimes it all felt so pointless. He wonders if Av knows he's the kind of boy that walks past snails on the sidewalk too.

"I never doubted that, Av." He feels bolder, more familiar. Loves another color, peachy-pink as the sunrise that seeps through his window, that gets mashed up black in his chest. He's not innocent, he's sloth. Sitting and letting the weeds take root around his veins. Swallowed up by both his grief and his brother's.

He wasn't forgotten, he let himself be buried.

"I just- I would have liked if you didn't love me at an arm's length."

But maybe it'll be okay.

Maybe, "I mean, I'll be seeing you soon right?"

[✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ]

a v

"I love you too."

Avriel exhales slowly.

He didn't realise he was holding his breath until Duke spoke. He presses his fingers harder into his face, dragging down, stretching the skin. Then he takes another deep breath, it rattles in and out. His head feels light, heavy though in that lightness. It's the ebbing of a meltdown or the warning signs of one.

He wants so badly to be the big brother that Duke wants.

Avriel doesn't even know what that is anymore. Maybe he's never known what that is.

"I never doubted that, Av."

"Oh."

His knees hit his chest, then his forehead falls into his knees and his hand moves into his hair, running through it over and over again. Avriel never had to doubt if Duke loved him. When their family shattered, when Billie left and Duke asked to go too, he just thought he knew what it meant. Duke had watched him kill people on screen, seen what happened to Areto, then got told his parents were dead.

Of course Duke didn't love him anymore, Avriel didn't love himself either.

But his voice is gentle, honest in the way it always used to be when Duke had to be the referee between him and Billie. And he called him Av, familiar, loving.

"I wasn't doing good, Duke," he says softly, "I didn't know how to talk about it."

Maybe back then, he didn't want Duke there anyway. He didn't want anyone there. That time is vague in his mind, a weird unravelled thread connecting Aunt Theo's death and the minute Eden stepped out of the shadows, Freckle in his arms. He knows that months went by but he's not sure how many. All he really knows that if Eden hadn't shown up then-

well.

"I'm getting better at it though," Av says, "Sharing all those things. Saying what I want."

He kicks at some moss on the roof with his heel absentminded, dislodging its stubborn roots from the shingles. It rolls off the edge, then Avriel hears a happy hollow sound, like wind through long grass.

"I want you to meet Eden before the whole thing, and Scout misses you," he says, kicking more moss down for the kodama. Then he pauses, leg still raised, thinking that last thing through. "I miss you."

He taps his fingers on the back of the phone, bites his lip briefly. Some days are better than others. It's still hard to make plans, Avriel never knows when it's going to be a bad one. Maybe with Duke, that doesn't matter.

"Will you come home for dinner this weekend?"