[He flinches as Gabriel grabs his wrists, eyes wide, and the confusion he feels twists cold in his stomach when his twin backs away from him.
Michael takes a small step forward, stopping when Gabriel tells him to step back. When he says that he might hurt him, he shakes his head, because that isn't right. Gabriel won't hurt him. Why would he hurt him?]
Gabriel, you aren't making any sense? You.. [What. I killed someone. The words wash over him, harsh and surreal, and Michael looks away from his brother, eyes narrowing as he tries to make sense of what he's being told.
There were things in his life that didn't feel quite right, things that were a little off, but Michael had always squashed down those feelings. His brother had been a constant, and even when things weren't right between them, it was always right that he was a part of his life. Michael's vision started to swim, and he leans forward and presses his palms to his eyes. After a few labored breaths, he straightens back up, body rigid, and face firm.
The blood. The alley. Those fit into what Gabriel was saying. The strange sensation he had felt in front of his house, the pull to find his brother, the invisible hands guiding him here, none of that did, so he pushed it aside and let rational thought take over.
He killed someone. Okay. The part of Michael that wanted him to be responsible, to be a good citizen, that was weak compared to how he felt for his brother. He could take care of this. He could fix this.]
It doesn't matter. I don't know what those are on your back, or where they've come from. But, we have to leave. Now.
[Gabriel couldn't stay here if he'd murdered someone. And Michael would go with him.]
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Michael takes a small step forward, stopping when Gabriel tells him to step back. When he says that he might hurt him, he shakes his head, because that isn't right. Gabriel won't hurt him. Why would he hurt him?]
Gabriel, you aren't making any sense? You.. [What. I killed someone. The words wash over him, harsh and surreal, and Michael looks away from his brother, eyes narrowing as he tries to make sense of what he's being told.
There were things in his life that didn't feel quite right, things that were a little off, but Michael had always squashed down those feelings. His brother had been a constant, and even when things weren't right between them, it was always right that he was a part of his life. Michael's vision started to swim, and he leans forward and presses his palms to his eyes. After a few labored breaths, he straightens back up, body rigid, and face firm.
The blood. The alley. Those fit into what Gabriel was saying. The strange sensation he had felt in front of his house, the pull to find his brother, the invisible hands guiding him here, none of that did, so he pushed it aside and let rational thought take over.
He killed someone. Okay. The part of Michael that wanted him to be responsible, to be a good citizen, that was weak compared to how he felt for his brother. He could take care of this. He could fix this.]
It doesn't matter. I don't know what those are on your back, or where they've come from. But, we have to leave. Now.
[Gabriel couldn't stay here if he'd murdered someone. And Michael would go with him.]