proof of life

His fingers had been knotted tight in Niko’s since they’d stepped from the house. He could feel the anchor of them, Niko’s presence on one side of him in the car, Kit’s on the other. Their continual presence in the last few days had been the only thing keeping him upright but no matter how hard he’d held on to both of them, how many hours he’d spent cocooned with Niko, so little had broken through that icy shell that had rushed up around him as he’d knelt in the snow, trying to pound life back into his … into Theo’s body.

Frank cleared his throat, that raw feeling returning just at the thought. Tears felt like a permanent sheen of acid in his eyes, burning, ready to well and spill at the slightest remembrance. Surely by now he’d cried out every drop of moisture in his body but fifty times a day they pushed free of him again. The shudders wracking him until he ached with it, the only feeling that managed to work its way into flesh gone cold and statue like with the bite of the snow and the grief.

At the stirring next to him, he glanced at Niko, tried to muster up a half smile of reassurance but it was like cracking through the surface ice every time, the expression hard to push into place. He readjusted his hold on Niko’s hand, dragging both of theirs onto his thigh while he fumbled for Kit’s arm on the other side. Blindly finding it, squeezing. Trying to silently tell them both that he was OK, that his appreciation of them being there went quick deep.

In the front seat the driver cleared his throat and announced quietly that they would be there in a moment. Frank dipped his head forward, staring out of the wind screen at the church. He’d missed them slipping in through the gates of the cemetery, locked in that silent cell in his mind where he’d been trapped ever since he came to in the woods, on his knees, his brother’s blood warm on his hands. There were no crowds of mourners waiting outside, although at least a dozen people from Whitmore had been in touch to ask about it. News had spread like wildfire, whispers running rampant among staff and students. Kit had handled some of the calls for him … others he’d avoided altogether. His parents – still unaware that one of their sons had been stabbed to death on a campus where he should’ve been safe. He hadn’t been able to find the words to tell them, didn’t know how to describe what had happened that night and so he’d remained mute, caught up in the bizarre spider’s web that had tangled around this whole situation. Freyja …

Hazel eyes swept the area around the church again as the car drew to a stop. No sign of her here but he knew that Kit had spoken to her days ago. Days after Theo had died. Guilt tightened a fist around his guts again. He hadn’t remembered. In the middle of all that had happened the fact that his brother’s girlfriend would’ve been going out of her mind at his disappearance hadn’t registered. Nothing had pierced that shell until two days after it had happened. Clutching the bag of Theo’s belongings in the police station as he’d taken the cops through what had happened that night again, it had suddenly dawned on him. Theo would’ve been screaming at him but his brother had been gone and all he could do was cover his face with his hands and imagine the tidal wave of grief that would swallow her up too.

Kit had made the call. He’d made most of the arrangements with some help from Niko and almost none from him. Even now they were the ones nudging him forward as the driver opened the door for him. A hand still holding onto Niko’s as the climbed out, his other on Kit’s upper arm, those anchors still holding him afloat somehow as he stepped into a church almost empty. So much less than his brother deserved but all he could give for the moment.



The driver couldn’t see him. In the rearview mirror of the Uber the only person moving in the back was Freyja. Her hands drifting through the signs that were their only form of communication now. It felt stupid even thinking it but the enforced silence was almost deafening now. Some part of him was desperate to be able to just hold her for a minute now and feel the reassuring thud of her heartbeat against his own but Theo knew that if he reached for her, his hands would go right through her. He swallowed hard now, shaking his head as he looked at her with hazel eyes sheened by tears. ””I’m not gone, baby, I’m right here … I’m staying right here.” Through today, through the next seven months of her pregnancy, to watch their child grow up, to hold on until decades from now she could go with him to whatever was beyond this.

Theo’s hand curled into his palm, unable to reach out to cover hers on her lap. His eyes cut back to the driver as he asked if she was OK, then slipped shut for a moment. She wasn’t OK, today was the day they were going to bury him. In that church …



The Father had come to say a few words to them. Offering a few more minutes for anybody else to arrive before he drifted to the front of the small church. They would wait for everybody to be in place before the coffin was brought in. Frank tried not to stare back at the doors, waiting for that moment when it would come into sight. He let Niko and Kit talk quietly, the hush of their voices a shield of sorts against the thoughts of that night that swirled around whirlwind fast in his mind whenever he gave those thoughts the room to move again. It all hushed the moment the doors opened. Frank swallowed hard, turning just enough to see her standing there just inside the doors. As frozen as he was.

Theo had shown him photos of course. The two of them looking so fucking happy in the snaps on his phone, that look on his brother’s face making it obvious had in love he’d been. They were supposed to have gone on some trip this weekend for Valentine’s day, a romantic get away halfway across the world, the follow up to Christmas at her parents’ place. Instead the day had passed without a single mark of what should have been celebrated yesterday. All it stopped like a train in its tracks by Theo’s death.

Frank’s eyes filled, his head already shaking slightly as she rushed into him. He let his hand slip from Niko’s, catching her in that hug as she rushed to him. Dipping his head, the tears started to flow hot and unstoppable again, his hands flattening against her back. Freyja’s fingers were in his hair, a comforting gesture that had the shudder starting rolling through him as he found his voice, bloody and hoarse in his throat. ”I’m sorry,” he managed hoarsely. ”I …” It broke off again, the excuse that he’d been caught in the unbreakable bonds of shock for days not enough now. ”Thank you for coming. I’m sorry for your loss … I’m sorry … He … God … he loved you, Freyja.” And he scoffed at it at times, the purview of brothers, especially ones seeing the mirror image of themselves finally settling down in a way they hadn’t been able to yet. Ridiculing the happiness they hadn’t known would be cut short. Tears streaming, he stared over her shoulder at the doors Theo would be coming through in a moment. Unaware of his brother’s lingering spirit, unable to see the tears that silent streamed down that face so similar to his own.

Tagged: FREYJA DAMASCA * Word Count: 1408

Freyja had been a part of his brother’s life that he hadn’t gotten to know. It wasn’t that he hadn’t wanted to, not really, although he hadn’t ever felt that same yearning to settle down the same way that Theo had done, it was more that he hadn’t realised just how far Theo had fallen at first. Once he had it had seemed like there was all the time in the world for that smiling face on Theo’s phone to become a smiling face at a dinner table, the laugh he’d only been able to imagine as Theo had described it filling the air with a raucousness as he pulled out every damn embarrassing story he had about his brother. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this, the time wasn’t supposed to disappear in one bloody instant.

He wasn’t supposed to stand in a church, feeling those sobs trying to wrack their way out of his bones again, hugging the woman whose loss had cut as deep as his own. Frank’s eyes closed as he felt Freyja’s fingers comb through his hair. It didn’t matter that they were both able to stand here and mourn now, only that a huge part of their lives had been cut away … and he hadn’t been able to tell her himself.

The apology for it slipped from his lips, the words sticking in his throat. They jammed tight again as he felt Freyja sob. He squeezed his eyes tight shut, trying to hold back the shudder that rolled through his own body in response. He couldn’t even find the ‘don’t’ back. Pressing his face to her shoulder for a moment he drew in a deep breath, trying to steady the tremors that had only started to subside over the last couple of days.

Guilt still had him in its jaws, had done for the days when he’d barely been able to speak of move, in the days after when he’d remained numb, watching the arrangements made that he couldn’t give voice to, as he’d ducked a phone call from his mom and fallen apart again and again. He rubbed one hand over her back, the other staying pressed against her ribs as she nodded, saying aloud what he knew. It hadn’t just been something ephemeral between Theo and her, it had been love, one now cut far too short. ”I know,” Frank breathed, swallowing hard. ”I do too. Feels like a part of me has gone.” It had. Even if it still felt like Theo was right there at times, just a room away, his voice ready to boom out at any moment, a flutter of motion from the corner of his eye, signs ready to flip into rude hand gestures. Hazel eyes remained locked on the doors, not seeing his brother stood there, just inches in front of the threshold, his head bowed, hands covering the lower half of his face. That invisible veil separating the two of them as effectively as if he’d been an entire world away.

Frank let his arms fall away as she pulled back. One hand came up to knuckle the tears from his cheeks, the other captured in hers as Freyja took it. His lips curled into a faint smile back, his fingers squeezing hers faintly, a link between him and Theo still, one that he wouldn’t let slip away when today was over. His silence shouldn’t have happened, he shouldn’t have let the woman his brother loved remain in the dark, scared probably, worried for Theo until the news came and all the worst case scenarios than ran so easily through your head when you loved someone became the absolute worst. He watched as she glanced over her shoulder, her smile warming into something he recognised from the photos he’d seen. Dark brows furrowed, his throat working as she turned back. ”Sure,” he breathed. A faint huff of humour whispered out of him. He’d had both sides spoken for all week, Niko or Kit with him at almost all times, the two of them holding him together when something just wanted to shatter.

Not seeing Theo trail towards them, Frank used their joined hands to tow Freyja with him towards them. He knew neither man would argue with Freyja being at his side for this, both knew of her, had met Theo. The thought of Niko’s meeting with him had a faintly watery laugh rolling out of him before he bit it back. ”You sound like him,” he rasped, leading her to the two men to offer up a quick introduction that he was pretty sure wasn’t needed. His free hand patted Kit’s shoulder, fingers brushing Niko’s as he headed towards the front pew. ”It’s … just the four of us. I haven’t … I didn’t know what to tell our parents. I know … I should’ve done but …” His voice was low, his head shaking again. Nothing was going to change in a week or a month or a year, Theo was still going to be gone, his parents were still going to be heartbroken. All he was doing was delaying it. Cowardice but all he could manage now.

He stepped into the pew, following Kit and Niko in, continuing to hold onto Freyja’s hand. ”Will you come back to the house afterwards?” Frank’s voice trailed off as the rear doors opened again. The coffin carried in on the shoulders of the pall bearers. His heart jammed into his throat, his eyes filling again. Every time he thought he had some grip a reminder struck like a hammer hitting a bell, bringing it all rushing back until he was breathless with it.



That invisible cord that had been between them from the moment Frank had arrived in the woods twined with the one between him and Freyja. A union that kept him with them, drawing him up the aisle as they moved towards the pew. If it hadn’t been for the two of them, for his desperation to stay with them … with his child, he wouldn’t have been able to stand this. The church, the flowers he couldn’t smell, the words of condolence he couldn’t hear. His brothers eyes on his. Theo dragged his hands over his face, dropping them as they began to move up the aisle. He trailed a few feet behind Freyja, his fingertips dragging through air millimetres from hers as they shifted into the aisle. ”It’ll be OK,” he promised, nodding at her as he slipped into the gap at the end of the pew. So close to her and yet so far. In the right position to see his own coffin carried into the church. If he’d had breath in his lungs it would’ve rushed out then. Another brutal reminder that he was no longer a part of this world. Not really.

Tagged: FREYJA DAMASCA * Word Count: 1165

There’d been reminders of Theo stamped in photos and memories all over the house. The baseball on the shelves in the living room, the scarred globe of white leather and frayed stitching they’d pounded all over the base until Theo had managed to hit it straight through the mess hall windows and their mom had taken it away for their own good. The shot of the two of them on base, him in his uniform about to ship out for Westpoint, Theo wearing a Whitmore sweatshirt, their arms slung around one another. Memories thick around them both but neither as tangible as the feel of Freyja’s hand clutching his as Frank started back towards Kit and Niko. An anchor to his brother that somehow bypassed the grief for just a moment. Like holding onto her tight enough would stop this loss from cutting any deeper.

He’d half laughed at her comment, his head dipping an inch as he approached Niko and Kit. Theo had been a wise cracker, most of his jokes at least half funny but he’d always groaned, blowing them off as awful. So many had swum through his head over the last couple of days, bringing on watery sobs, leaving either of the men who were standing there for him today trying to pull him back together again. Frank lifted the hand she’d been holding, scrubbing it over his face as she let go to accept Kit’s hug for a moment. Unaware that Theo was standing there, a lump just as big in his throat, lines of grief marring his own face.

Hand back in his, they’d headed towards the pew at the front. The four of them all who were there to mark his brother’s life, something agonising in that. It put a crack back in his voice as he’d shaken his head at Freyja as though in apology. It wasn’t OK, it wasn’t enough but some part of him hadn’t been able to handle the thought of all that grief filling the space, drowning him in a choking wave. ”I need to tell them,” he managed hoarsely. Had to find the courage somehow, Frank thought. Not yet though, he couldn’t … the words stuck just as fast in his throat as the coffin came in. Hazel eyes filled with tears, his breathing convulsive as he nodded back at Freyja’s confirmation. Maybe there they could talk more, he could breathe for a few minutes without feeling that pain wrap around him like barbed wire.

Not just him either. As the coffin had been carried in by the ball bearers whatever had been holding them together cracked. He heard Freyja’s sob break through, the sound muffled but echoing his own ragged breath as he squeezed her hand. Tears burned in his eyes, in his throat as Frank fought to hold himself together. It was a losing battle, by the time the Minister was leading them through the service his voice was raw, that numbness sinking back into his bones and threatening to strip him back to the place he’d been in out in the woods. Bones cold and feeling as though they would fracture at any moment as he stared forward but his hand gripping Freyja’s tight trying to offer support, to ease the shudders he could feel running through her. Frank’s eyes snapped up to the Minister as they were called on to speak. He’d planned to, even if it was just the four of them, to say something aloud of the impact Theo had made on all of them, the hole carved in their lives with his loss.

Theo watched his brother take to the stage. Tears silvered his own face, his lips pressed together to stop the shake as his hand splayed on the wood of the pew an inch from Freyja, unable to feel the warmth of her or do anything about the tears wracking her. So close to all of them and yet unable to tear through and do something to make all of this better. He rocked forward as Frank stood there on the stage, hands gripping the pulpit, knuckles white, his brows knotting as he tried to open his mouth and say something but then the sobs broke through. Glancing aside, he found Freyja’s eyes, swallowed hard as he saw her hand find her stomach. A part of him still there. A part of him Freyja and Frank would both have.

Frank’s hand had come up to cover his face, the sobs not abating until Kit was there, pulling him in to a hug, steadying him before he stepped up. A good despite his own grief, the brother he had lost. He sniffed hard, his hands working at his eyes as Kit spoke. A soft watery laugh as he recalled how good Theo was, how he’d been there at Bethesda in those days afterwards, how lucky he’d been to have him. As he brought up Freyja’s birthday Frank found her in the crowd, nodding slowly as the tears continued to roll. He pulled Kit into another hug as his friend’s voice drifted away, patting his back, clinging until he had the strength to work his way back to the pew.

He settled his hand over Freyja’s as he sank back down, fingers squeezing. The tears rolled until the Minister was done and they filed out again. Red lines scored down his face, burning faintly in the cool air as they filed out for the burial. The bite to the air made it easier to breathe but Frank still felt the muscles of his chest flutter as he tried to draw it in. Long breaths as they turned away from the grave side and started back towards the car. ”How did you get here?” he asked hoarsely, as they walked along, a small procession headed for the car. ”I should’ve asked you to come with us. I did this all wrong … I’m sorry.” Trying to stop the apologies from bubbling over like boiling water, Frank cleared his throat, bringing his other hand up to knuckle his nose.

He glanced sideways at his brother’s girlfriend, not seeing Theo on the other side, his hand hanging so close to Freyja’s like he could just reach out. ”I want to do better … for you. Like I should’ve done for him. I’m … I’m keeping the apartment on. I can’t … not yet … if you want …” God, he didn’t know … go through it? Stay there, take it on? He didn’t know where he’d been about to go with it but he was standing back at the side of the car, that weight still on his chest. ”I know … what’s it like not to want to be alone with this. There’s room at the house? If you wanna stay after this. I can’t promise I’m gonna be a great host but … you’re family. He’d want me to…” To keep Freyja safe, to have her in his life. One of the only parts of who Theo had been now, the other person who’d really known him. Family.

Tagged: FREYJA DAMASCA * Word Count: 1187

They were keeping him together. Kit, Niko, Freyja, somehow keeping that cracked shell of his mind, heart and body held together. Holding on to him, stepping up for him when the speech he’d meant to give to let someone know how he felt about his brother had threatened to send those pieces raining down around his feet. The numbness had worked its way through those cracks, leaving him walking on stiff legs as they followed the coffin to the grave side. Standing there, just inches for his brother, tears rolling unchecked down his face as he watched them lower Theo into the ground. Gone. There was no coming back from this, no sudden poof of smoke in the air or a sheet torn down as his brother strolled back into view, laughing off what had happened like it had all been some sort of epic joke.

Raising his hand, Frank had settled it over the arm Freyja’s curled around his, fingers shaking as he squeezed, his throat working hard as he turned his head to rest his cheek on top of her head for a moment. Holding each other together now, the bond somehow stretched between the two of them like Theo should’ve been there in the middle but strong all the same. Frank lifted his head, mouth a thin line as the coffin disappeared from view, his lower lip trembling as he watched Freyja look away, the only crack he would allow himself.

He tried to pull himself back together as they had made their way back to the car, drawing himself back together although the weight of grief still wanted to spill him to his knees. It had only occurred to him then that Freyja had come alone, no one to hold on to as that pressure had started to come down as the funeral had approached. His brows drew together, his hand dropping to squeeze her arm as she reassured him, telling him she’d taken a cab. ”Come back with us,” he managed hoarsely. The four of them together, the only ones who had been there in the church, gathered together still, wrapped in that pall of grief that left a choked off sob shuddering through his chest as he’d stopped by the car and his broken words had Freyja stepping in to wrap her arms around him.

Frank bit it back, trying to smile for her as he wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tight. He settled a hand on her back, one at the nape of her neck, staring beyond her like he could see his brother right there, tears streaming unchecked down his cheeks, as caught in this as the rest of them. “Grim,” his lips curved genuinely then, a thin thread of amusement breaking through the heartache. “Theo showed my photos … of you both. Trust me, you’re both welcome. There’s a yard for him … but you know that. I’d like you to be there if you want to be.” It would be a way to hold on to that part of Theo’s life he hadn’t allowed himself close to. If he’d known … he’d have made more of an effort, encouraged Theo to bring Freyja around to meet the family she was bound to become a part of.

She had been Theo’s, was Theo’s, and nothing was going to change that. Frank drew in a heavy breath as Kit set a hand on his back, that steadying presence nudging her forward again. The car was quiet on the way back, that pall settling back in and leaving each of them with their thoughts. At the other end Frank climbed out, offering his hand to Freyja to help her out of the car. It wasn’t the first time she’d been there, that had been for a happy occasion, her birthday – planned in meticulous detail by Theo, him and Kit shooed out of the house for the night. Frank’s lips twitched into a ghost of a smile as he led Freyja up towards the house. It had been strung with lights that night, his body left aching by the work it had taken to get them up … and down again later. Now it was dark, the joy that had lit it up that night dulled.

Kit moved on ahead, opening the door and glancing back at the two of them as Freyja spoke quietly to him. Frank saw Niko look back too, he offered him a faint smile and nodded, gesturing him towards his bedroom upstairs. He went on ahead and Frank found himself caught up in another hug from Kit before he disappeared too. "Sure,” he murmured. His heart still felt full of led as he followed Freyja through to the kitchen. Everything was still raw, the ice in those cracks in the core of him just waiting to blow everything open. He swallowed hard, sinking down onto one of the chairs at the table. Elbows on knees, his fingers already working at the tie at his throat as Freyja let out a shaky breath.

Pausing, he looked up at her as she started, stopped. Frank started to tug the tie free, no longer worried about the formality, wanting to release something to stop the pressure from building in his chest. What had she found out? Was this going to make those pieces finally rain to the ground like dust? He’d expected tears, more broken words that were going to tear at the heart of him but instead she was … "Pregnant?” Struck dumb he could barely could the word out, his mouth falling open, the air exploding out in a rush as he rocked forward to lean his forearms on his knees. ”He … you’re gonna have a baby? I … congratulations.” The word felt damning somehow as he pushed back to his feet, gathering her in.

The tears started again but there was a happy edge to them again, a thread of gold through that sudden sadness that dawned. Theo wasn’t here to see this, he was going to meet his kid. "God, he would’ve been crying at this .. I think I’m going to …” There was a watery laugh then, tears swimming in his eyes as he held on. If Theo had been there he would’ve been laughing at the image of the big tough Green Beret crying at the idea of changing nappies and babysitting some kid who was gonna call him uncle Frank. He didn’t see his brother there at their side, tears that echoed his own streaming down his cheeks as he hovered, unable to touch, to join in the celebration of the little bit of himself he’d left behind.

Tagged: FREYJA DAMASCA * Word Count: 1117