The Code To A Don's Heart

t w e n t y - e i g h t

3 years go,

The McCoy family home,

Toluclova, New York

He wouldn't come here unless it was bad. I knew that because I knew my brother.

It hurt to take money from my savings to get multiple train tickets back to this shit hole but I knew Peirce was in the walls of our old home. He hadn't gone back to the apartment in days and asking around, his 'friends' hadn't seen him either.

I hugged my coat close because Christmas was coming and with it came winter. I loved the cold and the snow, the cold bite of my fingertips and the heaviness of the air. Mom loved winter too and Peirce being the dick that he was, just used this time to try and give himself frostbite in the snow. Of course, I wouldn't let him. If he died, I wouldn't be able to live with myself.

I walked past the many houses on our street, all the way up to the small gate of my front lawn. I pushed it open, walking up the short pavement and climbing two of the three stairs that led to the front door. The middle stair creaked when you stepped on it and the wood was about to fall in so no one ever stepped on it since dad hadn't gotten around to fixing it even months before mum died.

1717 was our house number. A cursed number repeated yet still, I brushed my fingers across the figures as I opened the door which wasn't locked. My mom always did the same so I decided to keep her memory as close as I could. Where my father tried to act like she didn't exist and my brother was determined to prove that she left us, I tried to be her so that I held as much of her as I could. All our coping mechanisms weren't great.

The house was dark and when I stepped in, I removed my shoes at the door and turned on the light. I didn't like being here. Remembering. But with dad gone I had to face this place a lot more often since Peirce wanted to make it his little hole.

Speaking of my brother, he was passed out in the couch, skin ashen, lips slightly blue and cracking, his body wracked by small shivers. He'd been out in the snow again, probably only came in when he felt like dying of frostbite would both be embarrassing and unrewarding.

I shed my coat and walked up the steps to his room that was down the hall. I opened one of his drawers and pulled out a dark green blanket, going back down to drape it over his shoulders. There was a fireplace before him in the living room. I pushed the coffee table out of the way and lit a match to get a fire started on the dry pieces of wood already prepared.

Once a nice big fire was going, I retreated to the kitchen and searched the cabinets for some food. I found a few soup packets and prepared a simple meal for Peirce. I hadn't eaten but didn't really feel like it right now.

When the soup was done, I put it in a bowl and stuck a spoon inside. Peirce was still asleep but he'd stopped shivering. His breathing was easier and he looked healthier, his dark lips no longer an unhealthy colour.

"Peirce," I called shaking him. "Wake up."

His body jerked as he flew upright, his eyes wide open as he breathed erratically. Panic adorned his features until he turned and saw me.

"Peach?" he asked surprised as I sat down on the ground beside him, holding out the bowl.

"Eat," I demanded and he took it from me. His fingers were cold when they brushed over mine and cradling the hot bowl helped him.

"What are you doing here?" he asked rubbing one hand down his face. His dark curly beard had grown. He looked much older with it. Sometimes it was hard to believe I was 17 and he was 23. I seemed to be the older one a lot because if I didn't grow up, he wouldn't either.