We're a Team - Anatra / Anatra / Anatra (lol solo)

[Anatra]

We're a Team?

[FCs: Tyren, right. Alex, left]

I'm wasting my young years
It doesn't matter if...
I'm chasing old ideas
It doesn't matter if...

The camping trip is drawing to a close. The car is empty now, just Tyren. His isolation is well known to him, the rain pattering down, washing away anything that was once dry from the outside of the car. The wheels spins with concurrence, his foot on the pedal. Going camping with his friends was great, but now it has drawn to an end he can’t help but cherish the memories in his head. Talking to Kyanite, truth or dare. There were some very fond memories to retail for a long time. Some things he did regretfully, and others he had done because they were kind, generous. Few of them were because he needed it. He finally found somebody he could relate to, though. Kyanite. Though it was not only her, it was Max too. He hadn’t realized it, but they have so much in common. Max, his cousin who is only a year older, is alike to him more than he’d have realized. Sometimes now, he would think that perhaps it is he who is his twin, and not Alex.
The name, the very thought, brings a small amount of dread in the veins of Tyren, who’s driving nonchalantly across the lone stretch that leads to the house. It’s a long road, one that doesn’t stop at their house, but instead a small road dissects from it and he’ll be taking that shortly. In the back of the car there’s stacks of beer cans, empty bottles. They wouldn’t run the risk of littering, it seemed. Tyren is left to clean it all up. He sighs to himself. It has been a good three days, but the morning is only breaking now. He had taken everyone else home, and Max wanted dropped off by his old flat. Finally, Tyren pulls up at the house, which is large but relatively gloomy. It’s not old, but it isn’t brand new. It’s a static in between that nobody can quite describe, and would rather wait a few years until it is described dismal in appearance. For now, it’s home. No matter how recently they had moved into it.

It’s cold outside, now. The wind is picking up a little bit. It’s an unpredictable turn of weather. He remains seated, the car stopped and the engine dulled to a null. His fingers drum upon the door handle but he doesn’t want to go back inside just yet. Maybe, it would be better to sort this all out later, when the rain has stopped. It has been a while since he’s seen his family. A couple of days. That’s a long time for somebody who adores his relatives. Most of them, that is. He doesn’t have a house key to himself, not yet. They’re still being processed. Quickly, he opens the door and covers his head with his hoodless jacket, his trousers getting patterned with rain droplets and despite all hard attempts, his face gets splashed a bit too. There’s a little roofed area just above the door, so thankfully when he presses his finger on the doorbell he doesn’t get drenched through and through. By time somebody answers the door, he’s put his jacket down. It had opened quickly, and there he is. Alex. Formally, Alexander. He looks so alike to Tyren. Some people question the fact that they are not identical twins. “Hey.” Tyren says lowly. Alex nods his head, “Hey.” His reply matches. He opens the door wide for Tyren to come in and leaves it for him to shut. Tyren notices how after all Alex’s attempts, he’s actually managed to grow a decent head of hair. He’s even grew in his stubble. The pair are only eighteen, yet somehow their genes are blessed with the facial hair that they can grow even this early. It’s never much, but it could be. Tyren enters and suddenly the warmth replaces everything cold on his body. Every droplet on his trousers begins to feel less important, and his face is pleased by the scent of the house that he has missed. It smells more like home than last time.

He closes the door and the windy noise stops. The TV is on and his father is sitting on the couch watching something that doesn’t quite catch Tyren’s eye. “That’s me home.” He lets him know. The living room is to the right of the door, and the kitchen is to the left. All of it is part of the open plan, and the dining room beyond the kitchen is it’s own room. The bathroom is also on the bottom floor, nestled by the stairs with a door and simple switch lock. The walls are decorated white and black, comfortably and stylishly. His father looks alike to him as well. Brown hair, brown eyes - typically. It only makes sense. He sits in his suit though. “Did you have a good time?” He asks Tyren casually. “Sure did. I-” The phone lights up on the desk. “Good.” His father interrupts him, picking it up and answering it as though he were to be expecting it. Alex seems to have gone off upstairs, or somewhere Tyren doesn’t care about. Ever since he had found himself a new girlfriend, Tyren has found it difficult to talk to him because he’s always with her. It’s annoying for Tyren, because that’s exactly what he wants as well. Adina, his main woman, doesn’t seem to be that interested in getting to know Tyren at all. It’s almost as though she isn’t aware they are even twins, that Tyren is probably the one who knows Alex the most in the whole world. More than the peacekeepers, even. Not only that, but recently, even before Adine came along, him and Alex had been drifting apart as brothers. Now, they’re like two friends who haven’t seen each other in a year. That’s not the case though. Tyren believes it could be because of so many things building up, and them not talking about them. There’s only one way to find out, but if he’s with her now he won’t be able to even get close. He’s different around her. It’s almost like he’s cocky, but he’s hardly cocky in nature. He’s usually quite humble, but probably too brutal. His sense of humor is usually quite dark, and he never fails to remind people of it most of the time.

Tyren heads to the kitchen. He hasn’t had a good drink of proper water in ages. A whole three days surrounded by the stuff, but not able to drink it because of the saltiness and the disgusting bitterness it would have. Not to mention how sickly it would make you. Completely counter-productive. He wraps his hand around a glass and fills it with tap water, and turns to face the room with his hand on the sink behind him, taking a deep drink. Nobody else seems to be in. It’s strange how he has been able to just slip back home without anybody really caring. A little hurtful, perhaps. Nobody is here to welcome him home, though. It’s not like he’s been gone years. Days, not even four. He takes a deep breath, hearing his father chatter about something in the distance, now standing and waving his arm around like he’s speaking to somebody in front of him. Soon enough, the glass is empty and he’s already putting his jacket on the rack. When he does, he can’t help but notice that there are no female shoes on the shoe rack. Just his, now that he’s put them there, his father’s and Alex’s. Of course, Alex has the sportier shoes. Tyren’s are just decent, and their father’s are almost boot-like. They’re not his usual type, he keeps his in his room most likely, or he hasn’t unpacked them which is unlikely due to his organised nature. Something Tyren picks up on and has learned from, a lot. Turning on his heel, he heads straight to the stairs opposite the door and walks his way up. It’s a narrow staircase which has corners to save space. Three floors make up the whole house and this staircase, in all its smallness, is what takes you to all of them, even the basement in fact.

He enters the landing of the first floor, where the corridor has four doors. His is the first, the small bedroom that fits only one person and has a single bed with a desk and enough space for Tyren. The second is the same but it is Alba’s, his cousin. The next is Alex’s, which is big enough for two and he shares with Jasen, a distant cousin whom rarely visits so it’s practically all Alex’s room and he has taken to it accordingly. The final one, at the end of the corridor straight ahead, is Joe’s room. If he were to ever get out of the detention center, that is where he will stay. Joe is a cousin as well, brother to Alba.

Loudly, Tyren’s attention is diverted elsewhere. He hears the crying, and the rattling of a crib. It’s no doubt little Tyler. He’s three years old and is really starting to outgrow his cott. Tyler is Tyren’s little brother. It’s coming from his parent’s room which is in the corridor next to this one. It’s not a huge mansion, it is just complicated due to the amount of rooms. Tyren goes straight to it. He knows that the one person that will actually be happy to see him will be little Tyler. The door is slightly ajar, and with his mother not in and his father preoccupied with business, Tyren will have to play the role of daddy. He slowly opens the door and he hears the little soul gasp, and the rattling stops and the young lad is standing on his two feet inside the crib, eager for freedom. His face lights up, Tyler has never looked so happy. His smile generates those dimples that apparently make him look like Tyren. Tyren holds out his arms and takes Tyler into them, collecting him in a hug. He can hear Tyler’s voice wavering as though he were emotional. Children just can’t handle it, so they show all of it and Tyler actually starts to cry. He really does love his brother dearly. His grip is on Tyren’s shoulders. “Hey, hey. It’s alright.” Tyren consoles him. “Ty ty ty.” Tyler speaks, his language barred. “You alright, mister?” He asks the young one, crouching down and standing him on the floor. His little legs support him well for his age. He nods his head innocently, his smile gone as though he was in trouble, or something similar. Tyren ruffles his hair. “Want to go see Alex?” He asks, holding out his hand. Tyler takes it with two hands for some reason and when Tyren stands up again, little Tyler runs out the room and heads straight for Alex’s room. He reaches for the door handle, and although he can reach he just can’t figure it out. Tyren relieves him of the troubles. The door swings open and the pair of them see Alex who’s just on his bed. There’s no Adina. “Rarrr!” Tyler roars playfully in his little high voice. He doesn’t have many friends that are his age. The playgroups are decent, but his mother and father don’t have the time to take him every time. Instead he’s got his brothers, and cousins. All of them older than fifteen. In some ways it is good, but in others he thinks he’s as tough as them. Always getting scrapes and bruises. Tyler jumps his way onto Alex’s bed, a single one with a dark navy blue colour to the sheets. Alex had a book in his hand but he’s put it down now, and put his glasses off to the side, all his attention on the little one. “Hey.” Tyren repeats. Alex raises a brow, “Hey?” He shrugs a little, as though it was silly to repeat it again. It’s already tense, but little Tyler is oblivious so it’s alright.

“Ty ty, go get me your dinosaur.” Alex says, his child-voice playing a role. Little Tyler zips off to go find it, and there’s nothing not cute about his run. “What do you want, Ty?” He asks his twin. “We really need to talk.” His voice, serious as anything, speaking out as though it had needed to for a while. “What’s there to talk about?” Alex says, oblivious to the reality as usual. “Don’t be naive.” Tyren sighs. “We both know what’s been happening...” He tries to reason with Alex, maybe to find a middle ground. “There’s a rift, I don’t want it anymore. I miss us.” He says, almost pleading. Alex contemplates, seemingly. Suddenly, the life of both of them runs back into the room with the dinosaur in hand. A soft toy from his room. “Raaaarrr!” He yells, and Alex’s face lights up at him, as he reaches for the dinosaur. “Roar!” He roars, but his is much more intimidating and it makes Tyler laugh loud. Tyren can’t help but smile, but inside he just wishes Tyler wasn’t here for now. He can’t just dismiss him though. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Tyren.” Alex implies, as though he really has no idea. His face tells Tyren that he does though. He’d look confused otherwise. He just doesn’t. “We can talk about things. Everything. I don’t want to drift apart anymore.” Tyren seems a little desperate. Tyler is still playing around with his dinosaur, running around a little in circles, sometimes falling over aimlessly and just going with it, what kids usually do. There’s something about the floor that always interests him it seems. The vibrating slamming of the front door is heard, and the placing of bags on the kitchen counter can even be made out. It makes such a distinctive sound that anybody would know. “Come on Ty!” Alex calls out at Tyler, Tyren just left standing there. Tyler runs up and gets picked up by Alex and his strong arms. “You too.” He mutters to Tyren on his way past. They all make their way downstairs and meet their mother. She’s a fashion-loving woman. Anybody can tell, she’s always got her hair in a decent way, usually dyed a nice shade of brown despite her natural colour being only a couple of tones short. Her hair is nicely long, shoulder length, maybe just a little more. Brown eyes, of course. She’s putting away all of the shopping that she’s just went out to get. “Tyren! Welcome home. How was camping?” She asks. Their father seems to have gone out, or at least he’s not around right now. “Great. We all had good fun.” He confirms to her, smiling. “No fall-outs?” She asks, raising a brow, putting away the milk. “Nope.” He mutters. “Doubt it.” She laughs a little to herself, and so does he. Alex is busy putting Tyler in his chair so he can stay put for a while. “We’re just going to empty the car, mum.” Alex announces. “Oh, okay.” She approves. Tyren goes along with it.

They exit out the door, and the cold is still present but the sun has chased away the rain. The clouds still spread across the sky, though. “Alright then. Let’s talk.” Alex says. They both walk out to the car, and Alex opens the boot. “Well, I think we should start with the pregames.” He openly says the word now. They were both involved in the deadly event - it’s practically a non-fatal (or it’s supposed to be) fight with weapons. But the possibility of death is all too near. Some people have died from their wounds. Tyren was almost one of them. He still holds those two horrendous scars on his neck, either side, and his arm and back. They’ll be there forever. There’s no escaping them. “I thought we were over that...” But then Tyren shakes his head at Alex’s words. “You’re not. I heard what you said to Matthew.” And with that, Alex has nothing to say. He looks at Tyren with nothing near to innocence. “Yeah... I’d...” He tries to make some excuses, perhaps. “Nah, don’t. I also heard about Marcel. You don’t need to excuse it, I just want to make sure you’re alright with me being mates with Matt. It’s going to be tough to get through the Academy if you’re not there with me properly.” Alex starts to see some sense, it seems, but suddenly he switches. “But Tyren, he put you in a hospital bed. I can’t trust him.” Tyren shakes his head quickly. “I don’t want you to trust him. I just want you to be okay with it. Me and you... We’re a team. Teams make team decisions.” He puts a hand on Alex’s shoulder, brotherly. Alex cracks a grin for a moment, but then moves Tyren’s hand off his shoulder with a roll of it. He takes a deep breath. “I’m okay with it... I barely know him. It’s hard, I’m sorry.” He admits. Tyren nods his head. “It’ll grow. I promise. Especially after you saved his life, twice.” Alex looks at him curiously, as though it were to be rare that he got credit for that. “That was you and Max...” He says with modesty. “Nope. We all know who action man was that day. Not me, maybe Max but not me.” Tyren heaves out the fishing rods that weren’t used at all, putting them on his shoulder. Alex grabs two large bags, one in each hand. “About that day...” Alex begins. “I think... That’s what split us a bit. I’ve really been questioning peacekeeping.” His admittance of this is crucial. Tyren feels exactly the same. His face lights up. No fake smiles here. He puts the rods down at the front porch and Alex drops the bag as they go back again to the boot of the car. “Me too.” Tyren confirms. “We’re only human, Al.” His shortening of his name makes it all the more noticeable how talking really has helped already. “Yeah, we bleed when we fall down. I’ve heard the song.” Alex chuckles at Tyren, who’s joining him. They share a look at each other. They don’t pick anything else up, they just pause for a second and suddenly Alex brings Tyren in for a tight brotherly hug. Tyren takes to it straight away as well.

They’ve both missed it too much. “I’m sorry. I’ve been such a prick recently...” Alex admits, saying it with warm eyes. Tyren is the same. It’s like they’ve both held this in for a while. “It’s cool. I just wanna know you’re alright.” Tyren wonders. “I’m good. I’m good.” Alex says, releasing his arms. Tyren just smiles at him. “I’ve missed this. We need to go shooting some time again.”

“Guns or bows?” He raises a brow at Tyren.

“Guns, bows. Anything. We’re a team again.”

Don't you know that it's only fear
I wouldn't worry, you have all your life
I've heard it takes some time to get it right