Birds of a Feather

Chapter 6: A Reluctant (and Fucking Pissed) Hero

          After Alec's death, the war, and taking care of Matteo, the last fucking thing I needed was my parents to get arrested. By the time the aurors pulled them from our house, I was seething with rage. I picked a vase up from the counter and chucked it across the room. It did nothing for me. I still saw red. I screamed, almost sure I was gonna scare Matteo, but he didn't even get up and he didn't say anything. He never did anymore. It was pissing me off. I screeched his name. "Get your ass down here!" I yelled, even though I knew he wouldn't come down. I wanted to scream even more. "Matteo!!!" I could've cried, but I channeled that energy into chucking a painting across the room.

          I stormed up the stairs and threw open his room. "Are you deaf?! I need you! We have a situation."

           He just laid there like he always did.

            I wanted to yell at him more, I really did, but him just laying there broke my heart. And made me angry. As angry as always. That's what people always said about me. That I punched before I thought. This might've been true, maybe, maybe not. Either way, seeing Matteo like this broke me. Matteo had once been a hilarious guy who was excited about every little thing. He was a sweetheart who always wanted to make others laugh. That was before the war.

           Matteo lost himself when Alec died. We all did. But Matteo took it hard, sometimes harder than I thought I did. He went back to being homeless for a while, until I coaxed him into staying with me. My parents said nothing, because for once, they recognized that all of this was their fault. If it weren't for them, Alec would still be here. So they tolerated Matteo.

He never got up. He would've wasted away in that fucking bed if I let him. He did waste away in it. He would lay there for months on end if I let him. Instead, it was only weeks before I would drag his fat ass out of the bed and into the shower. Then I would change the sheets and everything else. Often, as soon as we were done, he would climb back into the bed and start the whole process again. Sometimes, though, he got up and wandered around. But even then, he wasn't normal. He was weirdly manic. He would start with doing lines of coke, then he would go find Esme and they'd do all sorts of crazy things until eventually I had to go looking for them and drag them back home to start the whole process again. This had become my life and I fucking hated it. Once upon a time, Matteo and I were going to get married and Alec and Esme were going to get married and then we would all live together and no one would be any the wiser, but Alec had to go and be a hero in the war and ruin it.

           "Matteo..." for a second, I might have been defeated. But I was tougher than diamonds, that's the other thing I was known for. I stalked up to his bed and ripped the covers off. "Matteo, get up. We're going to go see Esme. My parents got taken by aurors and we need to get the fuck out of here." He still didn't move, so I grabbed his shirt and dragged him out of his bed.

          "Noooooo, Idona..." he managed to drawl, trying to get away and back into bed.

            After a second, he gave up and I was dragging his dead weight out of the bed, then down the stairs. "Matteo, get the fuck up!" I yelled the whole time. He pretended not to hear me. We tripped a bit on the stairs, because he weighed significantly more than me and was pulling me down. I don't know if you've ever tried to carry someone who refused to help you, but it's fucking hard.

          I finally managed to get him outside and struggled to shove him into my car. An old, red truck that I swear was on its last wheel, though I said the same last year and it was still kicking it. I begged my parents to get me a new one, but a car was apparently where they drew the line, even though they bought me a puppy, pony, and kitten as a kid. I never wanted a fucking pony. Or a kitten really. Though I called out to her and my dog, Rufus to get their asses in the car. Killer (my cat) and Rufus were officially old as shit. Rufus was half blind and Killer had gotten one of her leg's runner over, so it had to be amputated. I waited the whole time, watching them bound over like the old shits they were. Which reminds me, I never told you why I couldn't get a new car. The answer? They didn't want me to grow attached to muggle creations. So I had this nearly broken truck lovingly named Bessy by Alec.