ferite inguaribili [cowt | week 03 | M1]

[hannyakoma]

Prompt: Gen+Angst+Fluff
Word count: 1761
Rating: sfw
Fandom: Originale
Note: A sto giro scatta l'inglese, don't ask why. TW: torture.

---

When his brother came suddenly home from his visit in Japan, Leon didn't expect to find him like that.

Usually, Yvan's trips had him come back with a shiny, honestly happy aura around him, so much that the younger twin expected him to burst out into sparkles any time. Leon was by all means glad to see his brother like that.

So, how to explain how he felt when he saw the other’s expression?

Yvan's eyes were completely devoid of emotions that were not anger, disappointment and betrayal. His thoughts, too, were all bundled up into a chaotic spiral—one so intense that he was afraid to be dragged in, held prisoner and slowly suffocated.

Not greeting anyone, nor responding the usual "welcome back" from Glen and Klaudia, the head of the family went straight for the basements, where the training ground and interrogation chambers were.

“Leon, what happened?” Klaudia asked, looking in the direction Yvan had disappeared to. Her voice filled with clear worry.  “He's... angry.”

“He is. From what I caught, he found out something that destabilized him. It has to do with Freyr.”

Leon stopped there, knowing that the older woman would catch up easily from that. Every time that name was mentioned, Yvan became more and more agitated. Only, it never manifested to this extent.

“... I'll speak with him.”

Leon was known as the most level-headed among their family members, along with Klaudia and occasionally with Zeno. So it was only natural that he was the one currently trying to stop Yvan from completely destroying the equipment and his own body with his ability, all at once. The tension was still sky-high and he doesn’t even need to use his ability to notice that.

Any ordinary person would probably have turned away and let the other blow off some steam. Fortunately, both for Yvan and himself, Leon was no “ordinary person” and, mostly, someone who knew how destructive Yvan’s coping mechanism were.

“You know, according to a doctor the average adult has a maximum of 5,5 litres of blood in their body. I'm afraid that if you spill more as mindlessly as you are, you're going to die today.”

Ruby red irises met their bicolored twins. Yvan stayed silent, his own blood dancing around him in swift threads, pouring from the wounds on his arms. He was looking at the other, as if he's seen a ghost. Or a nightmare, some Leon knew still haunted his dreams occasionally.

The older twin felt a shiver running down his spine as he read one single thought in his brother’s mind. He was tempted to step back, bolt towards the door and close it behind him—especially when he saw Yvan move towards him with one of his daggers held tight in his right hand.

He doesn't even recognize his brother right now, does he?

Leon was forced to duck to evade the first blow, cleary meant for his throat, and quickly move right away to not get stabbed in his shoulder. As they say, the disadvantage of having a brother trained to be an assassin—meaning he knew where to strike to cause possibly deadly wounds on the body—and one in a currently unstable mental state.

Now Leon was not the fighter type at all, he knew he couldn’t go on long before the other got a hit in. And honestly, he would possibly avoid worrying everyone, Klaus especially. So, he looked, observed as much as possible to find an opening. One would suffice for that (honestly suicidal) plan.

He waited, the feeling of tiredness settling in slowly, until he managed to get his twin close enough without getting stabbed. That’s the moment when he brought his hands up, to the other’s face—one each side—and held it tight. Before headbutting him as strong as he could.

Yvan let out a low grunt of pain, eyes momentarily closed. Leon did, too, but his eyes remained focused on the face identical to his own, foreheads still touching.

“Listen to me, Yvan.” he started, his voice decisive but soft. “Listen to me.” And not to whatever shit is going through your head.

Leon didn’t know if he managed to get the message across until, a few moments and blinks later, finally a spark of recognition appeared in the other's eyes. They still held the same emotions as before, but not as much at least.

“... Oh... Hi, uhm... Leon. Yeah. How... are you?” Yvan asked hesitantly, slowed down by the haze in his own mind. The other sighed, for once thankful to hear his brother’s voice.

“Apparently better than you right now.” Leon raises an eyebrow at his twin. “What's wrong now?”

Yvan stayed silent, once again.

At least, the older brother thought, he's not trying to deny or find an excuse for everything.

It would be useless, they both know it at that point.

Leon net a few more moments of silence pass, before he spoke up again. “If you don't want to speak, just calm down and think. I'll do the rest, okay? For now, let’s tend to that wounds.”

His brother nodded a bit and the older twin watched the trails of blood being reabsorbed slowly—the thinnest ones finishing the job of stitching the cuts close. Yvan barely let out a sound during the whole process, which always managed to both confuse and fascinate Leon: how could he manage that and at the same time being weak against a mere headbutt would always remain a mystery.

“We still have to clean the wounds.” Leon said, pointedly,  holding out a hand to his twin, who took it with only a little hesitation. “Let’s go upstairs, shall we?”

“Hm.”

*

The good thing about living in a large family house it’s that you have many ways to avoid being seen. Devellsworth manor, especially, was one of the most fitting examples--to travel up or down between floors, there were many different passages and stairs and Leon had spent quite some time to find them, in his search of a quiet room to read alone.

He suspected there were also a few hidden rooms here and there, but that was something he’d have to leave for another time.

Guiding his brother to the nearest bathroom, where he knew Xylia always kept a spare medical kit with all the necessities, had been the easy part. Now, still completely alone and the atmosphere tense, Leon had to bring his brother back from whatever took control of him, completely.

“You know, it's right to be angry, but it's never right to be mindless.” he started off, voice calm, while he sat Yvan on a small chair and begun to disinfect the first cut with a clean gauze. “And don't give me the what the fuck look.”

The younger twin huffed in what might have been annoyance, looking away. “The person I trusted the most just did that… I trusted him, I told him everything that happened with Freyr—the torture he put me through for years, what he did to Eve; going back would’ve meant death at best!—and he never told me a single thing! Now even when we… when we...”

“Yes, I know. That's the part where you’re right, the anger. Believe it or not, I had a similar reaction too, when Krow told me about you all. That I had a twin and that our family business was assassination. I understand a bit.”

Leon nodded in understanding, humming to himself while he continued his work. He was the type to feel anger, but calmly think about everything afterwards. He followed logic and reason, where Yvan mostly followed emotions and the heat of the moment, just to overthink words after word and clam up later.

“Different experience, same concept at the base.” Leon continued, trying to sound as convincing as he could with his reasoning. “I believed Krow telling me that he was my father, that we needed to move constantly because it was better like that and that my mother died from childbirth.”

It was not like that. Krow and he were constantly on the run, because the members of the family on his grandmother’s side were ready to hunt them down and Krow didn’t want to risk Leon’s life and safety. And Xylia, their dearest and lovely mother, was very much alive still, even after all she experienced because of Freyr, too.

Our family is a fucking mess.

“You believed in that man, who didn't tell you that Freyr contacted him to bring you back to Germany while you were on the run, in Japan. We both were lied to by someone we trusted and loved and it's totally normal to feel anger towards them.”

Yvan grew silent, heaving down his thoughts. There’s something he remembered, Leon noticed--what their mother said to him, all those years ago: “mind over matter” and “you always matter the most”. He knew Yvan had some less than safe tendencies, the most dangerous ones being sacrificing and blaming himself. A mechanism that was hammered in his head years ago and that still haunted him in the present.

The older sibling sighed and did something he was not so used to. Physical contact had really been a one sided thing with Krow--namely, the man was always the one starting it and hugging the living daylights out of him--so he wasn’t sure he’d do it right. But his little brother needed it in that moment. He put down the gauzes he’d been using and, a bit awkwardly, brought his arms around the other’s torso, pulling him close.

Yvan instantly freezed, he felt it, but soon enough begun to melt into the warm hug. That was when Leon understood that he did the right choice. He began drawing small circles with a hand on the other’s back, soothingly.

It didn’t take long before a few sobs started to escape his twin’s lips, which turned into a full blown cry. Both stayed like that, until Yvan managed to calm down a bit. Silence filled the room only for a few more moments.

“I’ll ask Klaudia to bring you some hot milk with honey later.”

While saying this, Leon pressed a soft kiss on the other’s head. The younger man stayed silent, trying to even his breath. Only when he did, then, he drew back and looked over to his twin, attempting a small, grateful smile.

“... Yeah. Thanks, Leon.”

It was something that others might have considered a small thing, but in a dysfunctional family as theirs even the smallest step could mean the world.