Brothersong

by TJ Klune

  WE WERE HAPPY.

  We weren’t fooling ourselves. We knew what was to come.

  But we allowed ourselves to have this moment, this one day where we could pretend all was well and we were just like every other family celebrating the holiday.

  We stayed in our pajamas for most of the day.

  We ate until we could eat no more. And then we did anyway.

  We told stories. So many stories.

  There were tears, but they were happy. They came from a good place.

  Joe and Ox stayed close together. Mark and Gordo did too. They knew time was short, that they’d soon be apart.

  Gifts were exchanged. No one seemed to care that I hadn’t gotten anyone anything. I hadn’t had time. I’d been distracted. They told me being here was more than any gift I could have ever gotten them.

  That didn’t stop them from showering Gavin with presents.

  He looked shocked as he received gift after gift. Clothes from the guys at the shop. There was a lot of pink. Jessie and Dominique gave him books. Bambi gave him a voucher she’d made by hand that promised him he could drink whatever he wanted for free at the Lighthouse. Rico and Tanner and Chris were outraged until they remembered that none of them—Gavin included—could get drunk.

  Gavin was weirdly shy when he shoved a package in my lap. He glowered at me when I thanked him. “Open it first,” he muttered. “Stupid Carter.”

  I did. Everyone pretended to be distracted by something else, giving us the illusion of privacy. I opened the box carefully, wondering what the hell he could have found to give me. I should have known.

  Inside the box was a book.

  The title read 1001 Ways to Cook Rabbit: The Complete Domestic Rabbit Cook Book.

  I looked up at him, almost annoyed with how touched I was.

  He puffed out his chest. “So you can be better at it.”

  My voice was hoarse when I said, “You ate it just fine. You dick. Thank you.”

  He grinned at me.

  One gift remained. Gordo handed Gavin a terribly wrapped present. There was too much tape. The wrapping paper had clowns on it. He thrust it at Gavin, muttering that it wasn’t much, and he didn’t have to accept it if he didn’t want to.

  We all stopped to watch him open it. I didn’t know what it was.

  I should have.

  Gavin tore through the paper, and the moment he saw what was inside, he froze.

  Gordo said, “You’ll have a lot to learn. But Chris and Rico and Tanner can show you how. And then forget everything they tell you and listen to Ox and me. Whatever you do, never, ever ask Robbie about anything. My insurance rates are already high enough as it is because of him.”

  Gavin jerked his head up and down before pulling the gift out of the wrapping paper.

  It was a work shirt. Like the ones the guys wore at the garage. Except it was pink because of course it was. Across the back, in stylized letters, it said GORDO’S.

  And on the front, on a patch on the top right, was a name stitched in with black lettering.

  Gavin.

  “We talked about it,” Gordo said, filling the silence. “Me and the guys. Everyone agreed we should bring you on. If you want, of course. You don’t have to. It’s hard work, and you’ll get dirty. Your back will hurt even though you’re a wolf. And just because you’re my brother doesn’t mean I won’t still be your boss. I run things a certain way.”

  “Actually, I run things a certain way,” Robbie said. “I just let Gordo think he does.”

  Gordo sighed. “Yeah. That sounds about right.” He shook his head. “It’s just an idea. But I think you’d do okay. I’d pay you, and—”

  “Yes,” Gavin said, already putting on the shirt. It fit him well.

  Gordo looked shocked. “Yeah?”

  “Yes. Please. Thank you.”

  Gordo looked relieved. “All right, then. That’s… that’s good.”

  “Told you,” Mark said.

  “Yeah, yeah. Shut up.” But he was smiling.

  LATER IN THE AFTERNOON, as the sky was beginning to darken, my mother said, “Carter. Gavin. Would you come with me, please?”

  Gavin was wearing his work shirt over his shorts. He’d refused to take it off since he’d first put it on. He looked ridiculous and happy because of it.

  The others barely noticed when we left, all wrapped up in their conversations and each other. We followed my mother down the hall toward the office. She motioned for us to close the door behind her. I did. She sat behind the desk. She nodded toward the chairs on the other side. We sat down. For a moment it was weirdly like I was a kid again and in trouble. I’d been in that position a time or two before. Gavin seemed to feel the same way, sinking down in his chair.

  My mother said, “I made a mistake once. Oh, I’ve made many mistakes in my life. But this one… this one stays with me, especially on sleepless nights. Among other things, of course. I have much to think about. This mistake, however, I go over in my mind again and again. I was blinded by hope. And I allowed something to happen that should not have, at least not then. Can I tell you what I did?”

  She wasn’t looking at me.

  Gavin nodded.

  She folded her hands on her desk. “Once upon a time, Joe was taken by a monster. I know some people try and blame themselves for what happened, but they shouldn’t. It was beyond their control.”

  I gripped the armrests of the chair, claws digging in.

  “This monster—this man was someone my husband trusted. Thomas, for all his faults, was desperate to see the good in people. But we had no reason not to trust this man. I will not say his name here. He has occupied enough of my thoughts and doesn’t deserve to have his name spoken aloud. In the end, he paid for his crimes.” Her eyes flashed. “If I had been his executioner, I would have drawn it out much longer than it was.”

  A chill ran down my spine.

  “Joe was returned to us. He came home. But he was…. He’d left. The light was gone from his eyes. I begged him to see me. I cried over him. I carried his limp little body, and it was like he was filled with sand.”

  “Mom, you don’t have to do this.”

  She ignored me. “Thomas howled at him, eyes red and bright. The call of the Alpha. There was a flicker in Joe, a reverberation, but nothing more. It gave me hope. It would take time, but when it’s your child, you give all the time in the world. We made the decision to return to Green Creek. To leave Michelle Hughes in charge of Caswell while we came home. It was Thomas’s idea, and I think he was relieved, in the end. That his crown was passed to another so that he could focus on his son. We came home, and Joe was still… still as he was. I worried what would happen to him. How we would explain to our new neighbors that our son didn’t talk. You see, a boy and his mother lived in the blue house. I’d heard of this boy from Mark. He said he’d met someone unlike anyone else he’d ever known in his life. Special, is what he said. Quiet, but there was something about him that Mark couldn’t quite put his finger on. I barely paid attention. I had enough to worry about.”

  “Ox,” Gavin said.

  “Yes. Ox. Upon our arrival, I was distracted. Busy. Trying to make this place a home once again. When I turned around, Joe was gone.” She flexed her hands on the desk. “The terror I felt at that moment. It consumed me. I thought that he’d been taken from me again. But then, in the distance, I heard something I hadn’t heard in a long time. He was speaking again. I thought I was dreaming while awake. Have you ever had that feeling, Gavin?”

  He glanced at me, then looked back at my mother. “More than once.”

  “We went outside onto the porch. And there, like a little monkey, was my son, sitting on the back of a boy I’d never seen before. There was something about that moment I can’t quite explain. It was as Mark said. This boy was special. And it had nothing to do with the fact that my son was speaking to him, although that played a part. This boy, Ox, he…. Have you ever been to the ocean?”

  He shook his h
ead.

  “That’s okay. There’s this sensation, when you’re standing on the beach, your toes in the sand. The tide pulls at you as the waves rush back and forth. You’re standing in place, but it feels like you’re moving. And you are, in a sense. You’re sinking, the sand covering your feet. That’s what it felt like to me. I was immobile. And I was sinking, but it felt so right.” She cleared her throat as she sniffled. “Ox had this… presence about him, even then. He was the ocean. We were the sand. And Joe had seen it, seen fit to speak of it. Oh, he didn’t know what it meant. I don’t know what went through his head when he decided to gift Ox his voice after hiding it away for so long.”

  “Candy canes and pinecones,” Gavin said. “Epic and awesome.”

  Mom was startled into a laugh. “Yes. There was that. He’s told you?”

  “I asked.”

  “Did you?” She smiled at him, though it trembled. “How wonderful.” I loved her for not asking why he’d gone to Joe. I had a feeling she already knew. “I never wanted my son to stop speaking again. Which is why when he came to me and his father and asked if he could give Ox his little stone wolf, I was….” Her chest hitched. “I couldn’t say no. I wanted to. I should have. I should have told him that it wasn’t the right time. That he needed to wait. That it wasn’t fair to Ox to bind him in such a way without knowing what it truly meant. Joe was young. Ox was a teenager. We had time. But I was so scared that if I said no, that Joe would just… vanish within himself. That the fire that’d been rekindled within him would be snuffed out. So I made a terrible mistake. I told him yes. I told him he could.”

  “But Ox still here,” Gavin said, brow furrowed. “Still with Joe. Always with Joe.”

  Mom wiped her eyes. “He is, yes. But he should have been given a choice. First the wolf and then the tether. Ox only found out about what we were when Joe needed him the most. Under a full moon, caught somewhere in his shift. And I put this weight upon Ox because I didn’t know what else to do. Do you think that’s fair?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “It wasn’t,” she said, not unkindly. “And yet he didn’t hesitate. I did nothing to stop him. They came together, in the end. They found their way back to each other. But there were times we were no better than Ox’s father. We used him.”

  “Mom, that’s not—”

  She held up her hand. “We loved him, but our actions seen from a different perspective could suggest otherwise. That’s the power of hindsight. It shows just how selfish one can be when they think there’s no other choice. Do you understand that, Gavin? Do you understand choice?”

  He said, “I do. I know I talk strange. But I’m not stupid.”

  “I didn’t think you were. Never once. I just want to make sure you understand what I’m saying. Because what I have to say next is important. We were wrong in what we did to Ox.”

  “You told him that?” Gavin asked.

  “Yes,” she said. “I have. And if you want to know what was said, ask him. If he thinks it’s something to be shared, he will. Gavin, I want you to listen to me, okay? Really listen.”

  He sat forward in his chair. He never looked away from her. He barely even blinked.

  She said, “You are here. You are pack. There is always a place for you, no matter what happens in the future. You staying here is not dependent on what you might mean to my son or what he means to you. Do you understand that?”

  Oh my god. I did not want to hear what she was going to say.

  “Yes,” Gavin said.

  “Carter is turning a bright shade of red,” Mom said, sounding amused. “So I will get to my point.”

  “You do that,” I choked out.

  “Do you know the significance of the stone wolf?”

  Kill me. Kill me now.

  Gavin said, “Yes. Special. Unique. Gift. None like it in all the world. I learned. Heard stories. Saw Mark’s that he gave to Gordo. And Robbie’s and Kelly’s.” He frowned. “I don’t have one.”

  “I know,” she said quietly. “You were bitten. I often wondered how you survived, given the blood in your veins. Would you like to know what I think?”

  He nodded eagerly.

  “I think it was because of your mother. Whatever genetics you received from Livingstone, whatever magic was in his blood, it was diluted because of her. I don’t think she was anything but human. But here you sit. Alive, and as a wolf. This is my first gift to you. This is your mother.”

  She reached into a desk drawer and pulled out a photograph. It was a Polaroid, and the edges were curled. She slid it across the desk toward Gavin.

  He picked it up, holding it close to his face as he studied it. His hands shook.

  “I found it,” Mom said. “At the library she used to work at. I asked them for anything of hers they still had. It was in a box in storage. As far as I can tell, it’s the only one that remained.”

  “When?” Gavin whispered.

  “When did I ask for it?”

  He nodded.

  “Last summer while you both were gone. I know my son very well, perhaps better than anyone else. I knew, even though my heart was broken, that he’d find you. And if you had any sense in that head of yours, you’d listen to him.”

  “More sense than him,” Gavin muttered. He handed me the photo. A young woman smiled up at me, standing in front of a card catalogue drawer. She was wearing jeans and a black shirt with a skull and crossbones on the front. She looked so young.

  I handed it back to him. He looked at it again before setting it back on the desk. “I look like her?”

  “A little bit,” Mom said. “Especially your eyes. You can see her in your eyes.”

  “I like that.”

  “I thought you might.” She took a deep breath and let it out slow. “I have two more gifts for you. And remember, you always have a choice. Whatever happens between you and—”

  “Jesus Christ, Mom, we get it.”

  “Oh, hush,” she said. “I saw that poor raccoon you slaughtered and brought to him at the full moon. You looked so proud of yourself.”

  “Mom!”

  “I ate it,” Gavin said solemnly. “All of it. Even the tail.”

  “I saw,” Mom said, fighting back her laughter. “Carter was prancing around you.”

  I groaned into my hands. “I wasn’t prancing.”

  “Skipping, then. On four legs.”

  “I’m leaving.”

  “You’re staying right where you are.”

  “Yeah,” Gavin said. “Stay there.”

  “Fuck you both very much,” I muttered under my breath.

  She said, “Gavin. Do you know why you’re still an Omega?”

  I couldn’t speak. But she didn’t even look at me.

  Gavin looked down at his hands. He shook his head, though it seemed forced.

  Her voice was soft. “It’s not an admonition. I can’t imagine all that you’ve been through. Your life hasn’t been easy. Believe me when I say I know what that’s like. Maybe not the particulars, but our paths are more intertwined than even you may know. I’m not just speaking about Livingstones and Bennetts. Set that aside for a moment.” She smiled, and it was a quiet blue. “If you’re anything like me, you wonder sometimes how any of this could be real. It feels… too good, sometimes. Yes, we’ve known the limitless depths of grief. But we’re still standing. You can have this, if you want. This pack. These last two gifts are not meant to sway you one way or another. You are free, Gavin. I know it may not seem like it with all that’s hanging over us. But you are free. Do you understand?”

  He nodded, shoulders stiff.

  She reached into the drawer again. She pulled out an envelope. My mouth went dry. She set it on the desk before sliding it over to Gavin. On the front of the envelope, I could see three words written in a familiar hand.

  FOR CARTER’S FUTURE

  “Mom,” I croaked out. “Is that….”

  “Yes,” she said. “It’s a letter your father wrote. And I thin
k he wrote it for Gavin.”

  Gavin jerked his head up. “Me?”

  She nodded. “Not specifically. But yes, you. I don’t know anyone else it’s meant for more than you. Would you like to read it?”

  He reached out as if in awe, fingers shaking. He touched the envelope in reverence, tracing the words, stopping on my name. He pulled his hand back, and my stomach twisted harshly.

  He said, “My eyes. They don’t… work. Like they used to. Words are hard. Getting better, but hard to read.” He glanced at me, flushing. “I’m not stupid. I know how to read. Just gets jumbled up. Not there yet.”

  “Oh,” my mother said. “I know what that’s like. After Thomas left us and I only knew the wolf for months, the first time I shifted back, my head was jumbled too. It was confusing.”

  “Yeah,” he mumbled. The air burned with his shame. “I guess like that.”

  “It’ll get easier,” she said. “I promise. Be patient. You don’t have to read it now. It’ll be there when you’re ready. It’s—”

  “Can you read it for me?”

  My mother looked startled. “Are you sure?”

  He nodded tightly. “I want to hear it.”

  She said, “I’m sure Carter would like to—”

  “Please.”

  She looked to me. I shrugged helplessly. I was hungry. Greedy. I wanted to tear through the envelope and read what it had to say, to hear what my father thought of me. I was scared. It was like the moon was full once again and calling for me.

  I fought. It was harder than I thought it would be.

  She said, “If that’s what you want.”

  And Gavin said, “Yes.”

  She lifted the envelope. She opened it carefully before pulling out the folded paper inside. Her eyes were wet when she opened the pages, and I marveled at her. This woman. This wolf mother. All that she’d done. All that she’d seen. All that she’d lived through. If I could have half the strength she did, I would be better for it.

  I could see it on her face. Wanting to read ahead, eyes darting back and forth. I didn’t blame her for that. I would have done the same.

  But she stopped.

  She cleared her throat.

  And then she began to read.