Good Enough (Brother, My Brother)
#11 of Good Enough Side Stories
A little story dedicated to my oldest brother who, to this day, refuses to play basketball with me because of stuff like this.
Good Enough--Side Story--Brother, My Brother
Eight Years Ago
Thirteen-year-old Nathan stomped into the house angrily, slamming the door behind him as he made his way upstairs, rage flowing through his veins. He walked upstairs and into his brother's bedroom, throwing the door open with his eyes narrowed as his mother turned to look at him, very clearly displeased.
"He's trying to sleep!" Selene snapped in an angry whisper. "Go downstairs and be quiet!"
"Why weren't you at my game?" Nathan griped. "You said you'd be there!"
"Damien's got the flu," Selene answered, standing. She walked over and grabbed Nathan's shirt collar, pulling him out of the room and into the hallway, closing the door behind her. "First, you need to learn to talk to me with respect, do I make myself clear?"
"Yes," Nathan said petulantly, arms crossed as he glared up at his mother.
"Uncross your arms," she ordered. He did so. "Secondly, I couldn't be there because I can't leave him home alone right now. He's very sick."
"It's always about that brat!"
"Nathan!"
"It's not fair! I was here first! Why do you love him more than--?"
Selene had acted before he could react; her paw slapped the back of his head and he fell silent, ears drooping as he yipped in pain. He looked back up at her and his confidence evaporated at that look on her face. He had never seen her quite t his angry before.
"Room, now! I'll deal with you later."
"But--"
"Go!"
Nathan did not go silently; he stomped back into his room and slammed the door behind him and Selene felt her fury spike. She nearly went back there herself, but stopped, taking careful breaths. She knew that, right now, she'd be more likely to scream and yell at him and that'd defeat the purpose of trying to keep him quiet.
"That was quite a performance," a calm, deep voice said and she turned; Marcus was behind her, looking impartial and detached.
She shook her head. "That cub needs to calm down. I can't believe he'd say that to me!"
"He's jealous of his baby brother," Marcus said. "It can't really be helped."
"But he needs to grow up."
"He is growing up and that's part of the problem," Marcus stated. "You have to admit, you do show favoritism towards Damien sometimes." He walked over and eased open Damien's door. Small, weak coughs met his ears. "Has he gotten any better?"
"His fever hasn't broken yet," she answered with a frown. "What do you mean, favoritism? I treat them all the same."
"You try, but you do spoil Damien a bit more," Marcus stated, closing the door. "Listen, I get that he was way out of line on this one. But even still."
"If it seems that way, it's only because he's still a baby."
"He's ten."
"He's my baby."
"And that's part of the problem. But I think this goes a little deeper," Marcus said. "Whatever issues Nathan has with Damien, they'll need to work it out themselves. We can't force them to like each other."
"They should, though. They're brothers!"
"Well, let's give the chance to work it out, Selene," Marcus suggested. "Besides, tomorrow's grocery day."
"I'll stay--"
"Nathan will look after him," Marcus said.
"You trust him to?"
"You don't?"
She hesitated. "Nathan's not exactly responsible."
"He's more responsible than you think."
"What? No! I don't want to!" Nathan whined, glaring at the TV as he stretched out on the couch.
"Nate, you need to grow up," Selene said. "We'll be back in a few hours. We just need you to keep an eye on your little brother while we're shopping."
"But I was going to--"
"I don't care! You have to do this!"
"Where's Amy?!"
"She's with her friends! And if you don't stop arguing, you'll be grounded," Selene remarked warningly. Nathan grumbled something under his breath, but she paid it no mind. She walked around and sat down at the end of the couch. "You know, he looks up to you. You're his hero."
"He's two feet tall; he looks up to everybody," Nathan scoffed.
Selene's eyes narrowed. "That's your little brother."
"Whatever."
"You could at least pretend like you don't hate him," Selene snarled. Nathan rolled over, irritated. She took a deep breath and grasped his tail, yanking it to ensure he was listening. When he let out a shout of pain, he pulled away, cradling his tail. "Now listen here. I don't care if you want to or not. You're going to look after your brother and if he needs something, you're going to get up and get it for him. If he wants soup, you make soup. If he needs tissues, you get him tissues. Are we clear?"
"Yes, ma'am," Nathan grumbled.
From where he lay, Damien heard the front door close and sat upright, moving over towards the window to see his father's car pull out of the driveway and disappear around the corner. He sniffled slightly as he got off his bed and started to make his way downstairs, stepping quietly into the living room where his brother was watching television. He surveyed the TV briefly before speaking, his voice weak and slightly awkward in his illness.
"Nate?" Damien murmured.
"Go back to your room and stay there until Mom and Dad get back," Nathan griped.
"But I just wanted to watch TV with you," Damien mumbled.
"Only if you're quiet," Nathan said. He looked up and huffed. "And for fuck's sake, wipe your damn nose."
"Ma says you're not supposed to talk like that," Damien said.
"You gonna snitch on me again?"
Damien shook his head and retrieved a tissue from the coffee table, wiping his nose before he sat down. They watched TV in silence for a few minutes before Damien began to speak.
"What's this show about?"
Nathan glanced over at him. "I thought I told you to be quiet."
"Sorry..."
Nathan rolled his eyes and Damien glanced over at him again, a wave of envy surging through him. Everything about Nathan was cooler, better. From his skills on the basketball court, to his friends, and even things as simple as the way he walked. He practically flowed with the awesomeness that Damien wanted.
The doorbell rang suddenly and Damien flinched. Nathan's ears flicked upward and he jumped up, turning off the TV.
"Mind going upstairs, half-pint?" Nathan asked.
"Why?"
"Cause I got friends coming over and I don't wanna trip over you. Beat it!"
Damien frowned as Nathan ran to the front door, pulling it open to reveal his "gang", as he called them, a group of friends he'd made on the school basketball team. Damien soon walked over, standing just a few steps behind his brother. There were two... three... six? He'd invited over six?
"Ma said you couldn't have friends over when she wasn't--" Damien started to cough.
"Go to your room, midget," Nathan remarked dismissively. "I'll check on you in a minute."
"But--"
"Go!"
Damien looked downward as he made his way upstairs. He had only made it to the top when he heard one of Nathan's friends comment on Nathan being "way too harsh", but he found that he didn't care anymore. He sat up on his bed, staring out of the window sadly as he watched his brother's friends start to play outside, longing to be with them. But where was...? Nathan wasn't down there. Damien searched the driveway, but there was no mistaking that his brother wasn't there. Where'd he go?
The door to his bedroom opened suddenly and Damien jerked away from the window. Nathan had entered, a steaming bowl in his paws that he set on Damien's dresser.
"Eat and get some sleep," Nathan ordered, showing a small bottle in his paws. "Only take two of these, got it?"
"Just two," Damien affirmed.
Nathan nodded and stepped out.
Not for the first time, Nathan found his attention drifting up towards Damien's bedroom window and he had quickly realized that this split attention was doing more harm than good. More than once, he'd missed easy shots and more than once, he'd just narrowly avoided getting hit by the ball when he found his gaze focused on Damien's window.
"Dude!" Michael snapped. "Just go check on him! You obviously want to!"
"No," Nathan replied. "He's fine. He's just... really quiet..."
"Maybe cause he's sleep," Terry suggested.
"Probably," Nathan acquiesced.
Five minutes later, the front door opened and little Damien was outside, having changed out of his pajamas into a t-shirt and shorts. He ran out into the driveway and Nathan just barely stopped himself from elbowing him in the face.
"What the... Why are you out here? Go back upstairs!" Nathan raged.
"I wanna play too!" Damien whined.
"No way," Nathan scoffed. "You suck at sports."
"But you can teach me to get better!" Damien said confidently. "Please! I promise I won't get in the way!"
"No!"
"Dude,you can't suck anymore than you already have today," Terry chortled. "Let him play. At least now the teams will be even."
Terry tossed him the ball and Nathan considered for a moment throwing it at his face, but decided against it. After all, they wouldn't really throw the pipsqueak the ball, right? This was just a token gesture.
And for a short while, it seemed like it was nothing more than just that, a token gesture. Damien would get passed the ball occasionally and, despite his lack of skill, he would try. But more than once, he would start to cough and when Nathan told him to go back inside, he would refuse, insisting he was fine.
But twenty-five minutes into the game, just as he was about to catch the ball, he started to cough. Nathan's eyes went wide as he watched the ball bounce of Damien's muzzle and his little brother fall over. Panic sent his mind reeling as he dashed over, picking up his little brother to see specks of blood on the side of his brother's face.
"ERIC!" he screamed.
"I thought he had it!"
"ALL OF YOU! GO HOME!"
And he ran into the house, carrying Damien into the kitchen. He set him down on the floor, pausing to ensure he wouldn't fall over. He searched through the cabinets, then the drawers, temporarily forgetting where to look. Remembering in a second, he dashed out, returning a few minutes later with the first aid kit. Damien was crying, the sound pausing only when he coughed or sneezed.
"Shit, shit, shit," Nathan breathed. What to do? What to...? Was that the front door?!
"NATE! DAMIEN!"
Fuck...
"WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED? YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE WATCHING HIM!" Marcus bellowed. Selene was tending to Damien's wound, too concerned about his wellbeing to begin to rage at Nathan.
"I was--"
"THEN HOW THE FUCK DID HE GET A BLOODY MOUTH?"
"It was an accident!"
"WHAT HAPPENED?!"
Nathan fumbled with his words and Damien finally spoke up, ignoring the pain in his jaw as he did so.
"It's not his fault!"
"Damien--" Nathan started, shaking his head.
"It's not!" Damien insisted. "I wanted to go out and play basketball with him!"
"You left him here by himself?" Selene hissed.
"No, he was in the driveway," Damien said.
"Why weren't you inside?" Marcus asked.
"Dad, please don't be mad at him!" Damien insisted. "It's my fault! He even brought me soup and medicine and stuff!"
"You don't need to lie for him," Selene said.
"I'm not!" Damien shouted, stepping away from her. "He really did! The bowl and stuff's still upstairs!"
Nathan looked down; they wouldn't believe him. He knew they wouldn't. But the only reason they were softening their voices was simply to keep from aggravating him further. Selene looked from her sons to her husband and gently took her youngest's paw.
"Come on, I'll tuck you back in."
"No!" Damien replied, jerking away. "I want to keep playing with Nate!"
Here it comes, Nathan thought darkly. He watched his mother's countenance waver and could only wait for her to speak.
"You two go watch TV in the living room," Marcus said. "We'll be in there in a minute."
Nathan's eyes went wide in surprise but he didn't have long to dwell on his amazement because Damien had run over, pulling his paw in a burst of excitement and energy that the little one had been lacking for the past few days. Once in the living room and positive they were out of earshot, Nathan leaned down slightly, whispering.
"Why'd you tell them that?"
"Because I don't want you in trouble."
"But it's my fault you got hurt."
"I don't care."
"I do."
Damien shrugged and picked up the remote from the couch. He yawned lazily as he held it out. "Here! You choose!"
Nathan eyed his brother curiously. He was at a complete loss for words. "You choose. I don't really care."
"You sure?"
"Yeah."
"You know we'll never get an honest truth out of those two," Marcus said, looking at his wife indifferently.
"I know, but if Nathan had been watching him--"
"I know, I know," Marcus said. "But for now, let's stop and calm down. We're both too wound up to be fair about this."
"Fair?" she repeated.
"Yes, fair," Marcus said. "In all honesty, it probably was an accident. It might've been a momentary lapse in judgment. I'm not saying that Nate's off the hook by any chance. We know that they were both outside and something happened. Worst case scenario, it was an accident."
"So, what do you want to do?"
"Let's go talk to him," Marcus said. "And I'm thinking a week."
"Just a week?"
"Maybe longer if we need to."
"Marcus, you're getting mellow in your old age."
"No, just thinking about something. When was the last time you saw Nathan so worried about Damien?"
"He was just covering his own tail."
"Really? Then why did he try to stop Damien from defending him?"
Selene thought for a moment. "Who knows?"
They walked into the living room and hesitated when they saw the sight before them. The television was tuned to some cartoon that they could only guess that Damien had chosen. But Damien was barely watching; he was lying down, his head resting on Nathan's lap as Nathan watched, his arm around his younger brother.
"Is he asleep?" Selene wondered.
"Almost," Nathan remarked with a smile. "Although if he starts drooling, I'm taking him upstairs."
"So, are you going to tell us what really happened?" Marcus asked.
Nathan looked down at his little brother and bit his lip. "We were playing basketball outside and he didn't catch the ball and it hit his mouth."
"I see. That's a week. No friends, no basketball, no TV," Marcus said. He glanced over. "And we can start that tomorrow. Just let him sleep for now."
Nathan's jaw dropped. "Really?"
"Don't push your luck," Marcus stated.
Amy walked into the living room an hour later and she had only glanced over slightly before pausing to look in surprise. The television was on, though the volume was low. Yet the most amazing sight was Nathan, zoned out with his head drooping slightly, his tongue lolling out. And there, laying his head on his lap, was Damien, drooling on Nathan's knee as he murmured in his sleep.
She smiled; it'd been a while since they'd looked so adorable together. One photo to memorialize the moment. And another to post online.
And yeah, one more couldn't hurt...