Lost

If anything could permeate that invisible wall between them it would’ve been dual scents of coffee and grief. He didn’t need to huff in a breath deep to know how they’d burn like acid in his chest. It surrounded his brother like an aua, growing thicker as Kit’s even step broke. Kace could feel the latter thick enough in his own chest. Hope shattered by the weight of the questions that crashed down on it like the waves at Mavericks. Stealing your breath, leaving you tumbling with all the air in you rushing out in that cloud of bubbles. Choking, driving you down and down and down until all you could do was kick weakly, hoping that weak effort would be enough to break you free.

Staring at Kit, throat working at the shadows he saw arcing under those familiar blue eyes. The waves had left him drifting towards that breaking point both reapers he’d met had warned him about but it looked like they’d taken Kit down and there didn’t seem to be enough fight left in his brother to kick to the surface. It hurt, right there where the blade had punched into his chest, but not with that sharp stab of agony that had lingered only minutes before he’d gone numb. This was a grinding ache, squeezing until, if he’d had breath, all the air would’ve been crushed from his lungs. The after death version of the bends.

If he’d let go it would’ve been better, had to have been. No reminder of the worst possible moment in his life looming over him, that opaque manifestation of all that guilt and pain. Rueful but not about to just blink out of existence either to blanket himself in his own regret while he continued to dog Kit’s footsteps, just out of sight. Kace’s jaw tightened as he saw where Kit’s gaze flicked to. The brothers reunited, strolling away from the house like Theo hadn’t bled out at the end of a blade, like Frank hadn’t been just as broken by it. Blinked away, forgotten by them, but not by the assholes who hadn’t gotten the bibbidi bobbidi boo some fairy godmother.

Kace pulled his lighter, flicked the battered zippo that had been Bodhi’s open to light up. He made a low sound around it, head twisting half in agreement with the disgust in Kit’s words. ”Lucky boy,” he mumbled around the filter. An ache building behind his eyes before he sniffed and glanced down at his feet.

He kept his gaze there, the feeling growing thicker in his throat until he was chuckling wearily, the sound strained. ”Cause they both do that screaming thing and you go full American werewolf in Mystic Falls? Naw.” That lump thickened, left Kace snatching the cigarette from his mouth before he turned, half facing away from his brother again. ”If it was that easy there’d be people popping back all over this town. I don’t think so.” There was still that question though. Why? Why had that guy come back and he hadn’t? What kind of ass kissing hadn’t he done in his irreverence? Never had it occurred to him that this was some sort of cosmic crime his brother had committed, some sort of cosmic payback on his part.

Maybe Theo had just been more deserving. The girlfriend, the baby, weighing heavier on the scales than a brother still anchored in the nightmares that exploded into life in some shithole of a war zone. For a moment it was just Kit’s footsteps scuffing on the sidewalk, then that asshole comment, that grin – almost all the old Kit right there in it. He’d have thrust a hand out, shoved at his brother but it would’ve gone right through him. Kace laughed low, eyelids dropping til he was giving his brother that sly, heavy eyed look. ”Says the guy who has a different woman scurryin’ out every week.” More often at times maybe, Kit’s band aid sporting curves and fluttering lashes, offering the sort of relief he so obviously needed. ”You tellin’ me you honestly don’t know what that room mate of yours is up to? Man, I always knew you were blind…” He clucked his tongue, shook his head. Another of those tight swallows as the joke wore thin. It couldn’t have come down to that, not when that choice had meant more than he’d ever admitted.

Tagged: KIT CLARKE * Word Count: 735

This shit had to have been everywhere. Mystic Falls wasn’t the only place in the world filled with screwed up things trying to play at being human. Like some invisible higher power had themselves a little dolls house filled with the furry and fanged to play with. Bump these two together and make them fall in love, drop this one off the roof and let them go splat. Stab that one in the chest and see how many people it breaks. It had to have been the same all over but in their isolated little world – and that was a fucking ridiculous idea given that half the time it had been Hollywood – he’d been blind to it all. Scales on his eye that had only fallen away when he’d stood on the other side of those bars and had watched Kit break and reform into something he hadn’t recognised.

Kace wanted to laugh but all that had come out was that rusty chuckle. Was that what it was? Who you knew not the value of your soul? Nepotism reigning above all right to the very last, letting that select few slide through, back. Shit, he didn’t want to begrudge Frank or his brother that, knowing what that divide felt like but that buzz of anger was there in the pit of his stomach as he squinted at the two of them through the thin veil of cigarette smoke.

Blue eyes wouldn’t settle, wouldn’t meet his brother’s for more than two seconds but they flicked back to Kit, fixing on that scruff covered lantern jaw instead as he shook his head. There weren’t people popping up out of their graves like corks in water on a daily basis. Someone would’ve noticed, he would’ve. ”It’s wishful thinkin’.” His mouth twisted for a minute though, his head dipping. ”You’d swap Kamilla and all that shit for a couple of decades locked down on a base full of armed dudes and rules?” That was what Kit had done in the end though, while he’d stayed in California, trying to stay on the straight and narrow and ending up knocked off it all the same.

Now his path was right alongside his brother’s, soundless footsteps dogging Kit’s. A frown on his face, lips puckered around the cigarette that was as insubstantial as his own dead ass. Shoulders hunched, Kace glanced sideways as Kit frowned at him. His mouth curled faintly, a deep drag drawn in before he puffed the smoke out in his big brother’s direction. ”This ain’t all harps and angels, you don’t just stop being …” You. If there was one thing he’d learned on this side it was that you didn’t give up on the things that kept you hanging on to your humanity.

It wasn’t just the dead doing that either. A silent witness to what had gone on since he’d hitched his wagon to Kit’s, he’d seen his brother and Frank doing the same in their own way. The sharper edges of that desperation taking off with booze and less savoury stuff. Kit finding connection for a few minutes at a time with women – like the one who’d scurried out that first night Kit had really seen him. Brows hitching Kace snorted through his nose. ”Right cause the only ones you’re pullin’ are famele?” he quipped. ”Guys have more refined tastes.” There was no venom in Kit’s words, that grin actually sending relief bolting through his gut. Better his brother’s meathead opinions that the grief and self-loathing that’d threatened to swallow him whole.

Kace made a low sound, drawing the last drag off the cigarette before he was flipping it in Kit’s direction. The cherry tip held until it was about to hit Kit’s arm and then the whole thing was gone. ”Ain’t that bad if it ain’t happenin’ on a nightly basis. Is there any woman in this town who hasn’t said yes?” If there was, it didn’t matter, there were always plenty more queueing up at the club to white out Kit’s brain for a while. A band aid slapped on that mortal wound for just a half hour at a time – all it did was slow down the inevitable.

That conversation had never been needed between the two of them. Acceptance had been there in the silence, slowly giving way to the teasing as some measure of comfort had come into the idea he guessed. Hovering as he had Kace had heard it between Kit and Frank too, care in the purposefully dickish words. They’d rolled out of Kit now until he’d rolled them back. Kace hunched his shoulders, shoving his hands into his pockets as Kit’s gaze cut to the Damascas again, the light dimming in that smirk like he’d gone and stuck his thumb right into the edge of that gaping wound.

He’d have bumped that sasquatch form with his shoulder if he wouldn’t have gone right through – or worse actually connected like he had done when he’d rattled Kit’s half ordered world around him before and had left him shaking with it. One corner of Kace’s mouth lifted in a sneering grin as Kit pushed whatever had rolled over him away. ”Close enough,” he drawled lightly, ”and anyway, it wasn’t just dudes. You remember that girl down the street in Texas? The redhead…” Sandy brows waggled, pride lasting all of two minutes before the serious rushed back and left him fumbling for another cigarette.

Fingers wanting to shake slightly sticking it between his lips before he lit up. It had been his choice not to go with the dude who’d come to pick him up after, his choice to turn down the blonde out in the woods here too. Blowing out that first plume of smoke through his nose before he nodded. ”Twice. Told the first one to stick it.” Maybe the weight would’ve lifted on Kit’s shoulders if he hadn’t, some sort of innate knowledge that he was at peace giving some to his brother. ”Second one didn’t seem to think there was any easy way back but I guess she was wrong. You think she coulda been the one who got him back?” Hope curled in the pit of his stomach like smoke for just a second. Leah hadn’t seemed like she had enough empathy to bring back the ant she stepped on, let alone a whole spirit. If she could though? Jesus, he wasn’t beyond begging, even if it had to be done kneeling over the body of some other poor sap who hadn’t seen it coming.

Tagged: KIT CLARKE * Word Count: 1096

Had life been perfect before Kit had risen up in the dark and punched the blade deep into his chest?

Fuck no. Kace wouldn’t have hesitated to admit there’d always been cracks there but the good had outweighed the bad most of the times. Kamilla was … absent at best, but their pop had been there. Blips had popped on Kit’s radar when he’d knocked a girl up, but he’d made something of himself – pride had fucking radiated right where that blade had bled the life out of him when he’d seen Kit muster out, an ugly mug in uniform striding alongside the guys who’d gotten him through all that training. Bodhi had ended up tumbling onto the beach, lifeless and torn up by the water but they’d come together after. They’d built something. All of that had worth, some he might’ve erased if he could, but the pay out?

Kace’s grin as tight as he shot it sideways at his brother. He’d hold that in both fists, tight enough that it woulda had to be ripped out by the roots to get it away from him. Clucking his tongue, he shrugged his shoulders with a snort. ”I’d have had more fun than you, although I’m sure your buddy could give you some pointers on that.” One blue eye winked before the serious settled back in. A weight that only lifted for a couple of minutes at a time. ”Some of us did pretty good without the drill sergeant shit.” Would Kit have given that up for the absolute knowledge that he wouldn’t have ended up chewed up his own way? He fucking shoulda done but Kit had wanted to do something and he had, saving one life at least.

Before he’d taken another.

Bitterness tried to bite but Kace puffed it out with the smoke. Had to bleed it off or it’d start to build and there wouldn’t be anything left to wait around here for their own non-existent fucking miracle. Blue eyes narrowed down to smug slits as Kit shot him a look for the barely veiled little dig back. ”Why …” Kace echoed. He choked out a laugh, shaking his head. ”I guess they all need seeing eye dogs around here, or they’re all a little touched.” The fingers holding the cigarette reached up and tapped a temple. In some weird twisted way he was glad Kit had some out. He’d watched his brother in jail, if Kit had stayed in a cell he’d have worn away faster, nothing of the brother he’d known remaining under that inescapable guilt. Here at least he had a chance.

Maybe the little reminders of the past would keep Kit kicking for the surface a little longer. You trod water long enough someone would come and pull you out. Maybe it wasn’t that different for him. A redheaded girl with freckles dusting her skin, down over delicate collarbones, a trail he’d followed knowing Kit would try and kick his ass for it if he found out. The grin went sheepish for a second but the weight was soon back around his ankle, a broken board shackled to him, tangled in the weeds, the water lapping around his chin as he tried to stroke up towards the light.

Sandy brows snapped together, the hand holding on to the fresh smoke jabbing out in Kit’s direction as the accusation was flung at him. He didn’t get it. He’d held Frank’s hand through all of this, had watched Theo walk back into the house like he hadn’t been put in the fucking ground, but he hadn’t stood on the precipice himself given the choice to take a trip up or down or stay put and be tortured until you finally lost your damn mind. ”Hey! You think I’m that big a fuckin’ asshole? No!” Kace went to flick the butt down to the ground but he cursed and took another drag instead. His fingers fucking trembled with it too. ”I didn’t get the offer. They wanted to take me off…” The cigarette was aimed up, jabbed down just the once, the thought twisting at the pit of his stomach. He hadn’t done enough for that, surely.

He didn’t want to think about if it would’ve been easier if he had said yes instead of continuing to torture both of them. Now there was a chance? Shit. The tears wanted to press at the back of his eyes, the smoke that was as fake as everything else not even an excuse for the burn Kace felt behind his eyes. ”There’s gotta be,” he managed hoarsely. Kace cleared his throat, swallowing hard again as he heard the hope in Kit’s voice. ”There’s gotta be. First one was a dude, second was … Leah. I mean look how many people are … ain’t no way just two or three people are doing all of that.” People, like that’s all they were. The stories Leah had told rippled through his head. ”You think Theo could put in a word? I mean … if they did it for him … shit.” Kace sniffed, the burn intensifying to the point where he was watching Kit well up through the thin veil of his own tears.

Maybe the reaper, maybe Cassie. Two ways now, two people who’d come back. That had to mean he still had a fucking chance right? The fresh well of hope was enough to have his knees wanting to give out, like he’d have to bend over and prop himself up on his thighs, a marathon runner finally seeing the finish line.

Tagged: KIT CLARKE * Word Count: 935