Confidentiality

Origin: Remus

TW: Gun Violence, Major Character Death (kinda), Derealization, Strangling, Yelling, Crying, Gaslighting

“Rem,” Roman gained his brother’s attention.

Remus looked up from his phone, giving Roman a friendly smile. “What’s up, Ro?”

“I’m gonna go pick up some food. I’ll be back in about fifteen minutes.” Roman explained, putting on his coat. “Try not to burn the house down.”

“No promises.” Remus said, looking back at his phone. Roman rolled his eyes, before walking out the door. 

The second the door closed, Remus frowned. He knew his worrying was unnecessary, since Roman was more than capable of defending himself. Still, he always felt restless whenever his brother left the apartment. Remus was terrified of Roman having to reap the consequences of--

"Why did he kill me?"

Remus tensed, going pale.

Slowly, he turned towards the window, where a young boy was standing. Dark red blood dripped from the right side of his head, and his arm looked to be broken and bruised. His eyes were hollow, too hollow for someone so young. 

It was the eighth grader. The one Roman had punched through the wall on the day they left. 

“H-How are you--?!” Remus stammered, standing up quickly. 

“Why did he kill me?” The boy asked again. “I was only fourteen. I had a future ahead of me.”

“I heard you lived--You were fine--!” Remus shook his head, not really understanding what was going on.

“Did you?” The boy tilted his head. “Did you really?” Remus blinked, and the boy was suddenly stood right in front of him.

He inhaled sharply, attempting to back up but tripping over his own feet instead. 

The boy stared down at him. “Why didn’t you stop him?” 

"I-I tried to--I--"

“You made him a murderer.” The boy hissed. “You could’ve stopped him.”

“You lived, I know you did. I called every day to make sure--” Remus looked away from the boy, shaking his head. “Roman isn’t a murderer. He didn’t mean to--”

“Why did you run away if he wasn’t a murderer?” The boy tilted his head. 

“You’re not real.” Remus gasped out. “You’re not. You’re not real--I’m seeing things--”

“You’re real, aren’t you?” The boy kneeled down in front of him. “So why can’t I be?”

“You--That--” Remus furrowed his brow. “I don’t understand--” 

“Listen to me, Remus.” The boy’s hollow eyes bore into him. “You will never be able to live a normal life. Not with a murderer living in your house.” He shook his head. “It’s only a matter of time before they find him.”

“‘They?’” Remus echoed. “Who’s ‘they?’”

The door slammed open, and Roman was panting heavily as he stared at his twin. “Rem--Remus--You gotta run--!” 

A gunshot rang through the air, entering Roman's back and flying out just below his heart. It embedded itself in the wall.

Roman’s eyes widened, and he stumbled a bit, clutching the doorframe. Blood spread across his chest, and his breathing became strained. He coughed, blood and spittle flying out.