Hidden and Silent (SpyxFamily)

Ch. 12: Part Three

"Uh—" Damian said and his face tightened in indignant frustration. It built and built until it pressed painfully at his chest even as it leaked from the cracks. He forgot to breathe, his stomach clamped as if it could help him deal with it. "WHAT DO YOU MEAN, "YEAH"!?" It hurt, the emotions ripping out of him and bursting tempestuously from the fissures that were torn open in a flood. It was hot. And burning. It stung his eyes and choked his throat. It filled his lungs with anger and he couldn't keep it down. How was Demetrius so calm?! How could he keep something like this secret from him? Had he been reading Damian's mind this entire time?! It felt like he had been sliced open, his entire contents laid bare and he hadn't even known! It was the most disturbing thing he had ever felt! This was—! How did—! WHAT!? "YOU CAN REA—!!?"

Damian didn't get it out. Demetrius' head snapped to him wide-eyed and panicked and lunged for Demetrius with the speed and jumpy-ness of a cat on catnip. It was the fastest Damian had ever seen him move and his eyes went wide when Demetrius' hand clamped over his mouth before he could jerk away. Demetrius breathed deep and fast through his nose as he tried to get it under control. His head whipped at the area around them, but there was barely anyone left and no one paid them any heed. With wary eyes reticent to stop scanning the area, Demetrius slowly lowered onto one knee in front of his brother. His face was taut, his jaw feathered from clenched teeth, and his eyes were a little wild. His tensed muscles ran up his arm to the very tips of his fingers that clutched Damian's jaw and cheeks and sent a streak of adrenaline heaving in Damian's own shoulders. The hand covered nearly the entirety of the bottom half of Damian's face and Demetrius hardly noticed how tightly he held it. Demetrius was freaking Damian out.

Demetrius finally looked at him from the field he surveyed. "Not." The intensity was a near snarl and oddly shaky. "A word." It came low and husky, raw in Demetrius' attempt to keep himself contained,

Damian nodded, a sort of fear of Demetrius' fear coming over him.

After a steadying breath, Demetrius slowly released him and slumped on the ground with another sigh of utter exhaustion.

Damian's anger had compacted in his chest. It was still there, it was still urging him to express it, but it was stuck. Damian didn't know what to do with it. He was unable to move and he watched Demetrius cradle his face in his hands.

Feeling like his entitled moment of shock and outrage had been hijacked, Damian dazedly settled in the grass as well. He had no idea how to proceed, how to process, how to feel. His head was home to a cyclone of confusion, disbelief, a weird sense of violation, and reflection. Every conversation they'd had. What had Demetrius said!? What had Damian thought?! What had Demetrius heard?! The comfortableness he'd had around him was suddenly gone, replaced with a feeling of constant, imminent attack. He had no shields or armour to protect himself, he was vulnerable and he chafed against the helplessness of it.

It made him angry all over again.

"Why are you angry?" Demetrius asked quiet and cautious.

Why was he—?! Damian sprang up, astonished at his naïveté, and stood over him, though Demetrius was still taller even sitting. "That!" He pointed at his elder brother. "That's why I'm angry! How can you be so dense!?"

Demetrius blinked at him, taken slightly aback. "That I read your mind?"

"YES! That is not okay!" Damian's fervency, manic and driven by a storm of indistinguishable emotions that crowded his throat, played liberally with his impulses and faculties.

Demetrius continued to stare at him dumbfounded. "What do you mean it's not okay?" He said. Demetrius had adopted a strange attitude, a strange face. One Damian hadn't seen before. His posture was closed and his hands hung off his shins that partially stretched before him. He often spoke calmly, but this time it was softer. Weaker almost. He looked at Damian with quiet shock, as if he had just doused the campfire that was keeping Demetrius alive. It threw Damian off and sent his anger off-kilter.

"Wh—it's—I don't like it when you do that!" Damian exclaimed, his anger shifting more into intense bafflement and fluster. Demetrius was making it difficult to be angry at him and Damian very much needed to be angry at him. If he couldn't be angry at him, what did he do with this disgusting vulnerability he could do nothing about and the fact that Demetrius had not told him?! His mind had been invaded, trespassed, like all it took to enter was pushing aside a curtain door and it infuriated, disturbed, and frustrated him to no end.

"Why?"

Damian stared at him. Shouldn't it be obvious?! How could Demetrius read minds and not know the answer?! "They should be private! It's—WHAT DO YOU MEAN "WHY"?!" Damian abruptly straightened away from Demetrius who looked at him with surprising and confused innocence. Like a kid who didn't quite understand why their parents were upset at them. His gaze drifted lower until it reached the ground and stayed there for the longest moment. Then slowly, as if Demetrius' head were a tensioned door, it returned back to it's natural position, facing front. He considered the grass at his feet.

Damian watched him watch the grass, speechless. His brother stayed that way and Damian growled, turning away as he grabbed at the back of his head.

What was wrong with him?!

When Demetrius spoke, his mind sounded elsewhere. Faint. "Okay. . ." Demetrius accepted, subdued, and Damian turned back to him. His brother sounded off. "I'll. . .stay out of your head." Demetrius promised.