The More It Hurts, The less It Shows.

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The sliding door gives way with a rough tug, hurried feet stepping out into the patio. Aged wood creaking under his weight, snow falling from the sides of the deck as it bent slightly beneath him. He hated Christmas. How they'd all get together and pretend as if they cared about one another. No matter how much whiskey he'd chugged down it didn't rid the feeling of discomfort the gathering brought.

The cold shooting through him like a bullet. Causing him to hang his head, shifting on his heels. It wasn't the snow or the wind that sent a shiver down his spine, but the eyes burning into him. There would certainly be words of disappointment casted in his direction as soon as the house was clear of visitors. A cigarette is placed between two chapped lips, turning his back to the window. It was easier that way, to ignore Alicent's gaze.

The way she looked at him wasn't new. It had developed the moment they left King's Landing. Aegon was her biggest disappointment. Often times he'd even wondered if she regretted bringing him with her, perhaps wishing she'd left him with Viserys. Back home things were different. He'd drink to have fun, only at parties, but here he drank to escape. The thoughts clawing their way to the forefront of his mind at every waking moment. Disappearing the more intoxicated he became. Until, well, he was face to face with his mother.

He didn't hate being out here entirely. It was great at first. Living miles away from your neighbors. No one around to poke their nose in your business. California was noisy and hectic. Living just outside of Ashland, Nebraska was quiet and secluded. The only time they had visitors was when Rhaenyra and her boys barged in. Insisting that they must keep the family together somehow.

"Got one to spare, Egg?"

His body jerks in fright as her voice reaches his ears. Clutching the front of his shirt. A fuck you lingers unsaid on his tongue.

"Didn't bring your own, Rhaenyra?"

He finds himself tugging one from his pack, passing it over. She's always poking and prodding. Every time she visits it's like this. Asking him why he looks so sad. Why he excludes himself from family activities. As if any of them wanted her here to begin with. To his mother — 'Nyra radiated everything Viserys. Unholy. That's how Alicent described them. Especially his older sister. Children out of wedlock. Her divorce from Daemon.

"You use to enjoy my company." It's another prodding statement. Another way of asking what's wrong. What's changed?

"I grew up. No need to be following my older sister around like she's hung the moon." His tone isn't as dismissive as he'd hoped it would be.

It was true. He use to follow her everywhere. Trailing behind her as she moved around the manor. She'd given him far more attention than his parents and he clung to it. Spending more time in her room than his own. Toys and games forgotten and abandoned in favor of time with her. Even when she moved away, had children of her own, he still didn't relent. Calling and texting. At some points Rhaenyra found it excessive, but she didn't truly mind. Knowing that he needed someone. Which is why it was so worrying when he stopped reaching out.

The only thing between them is the snow. Soft and light as it fell the ground. To Rhaenyra it might as well have been a brick wall. She knew how this would go. Aegon would say that he was fine, nothing was wrong. That he was simply just growing up. It was more than that. Not understanding how no one else could see it. Though she supposes they have, ignoring it and sweeping it under the rug. Hoping whatever it was would go away. Not her. She needed to know what had caused the change in her once loving brother.

Aegon had once been quite fit. The embodiment of an all american teenager. Handsome, strong, healthy. Now his eyes were sunken in, skin clinging to bones, a constant stench of whiskey. A man grown into a shell of what he once was. Resisting the urge to reach out and trail fingertips over a protruding cheekbone.

"Skoros's massitas naejot ao, lēkia?"

"You know I never learned—"

"That's the point, Egg." A small smile tugs at the corners of her lips. Bumping her shoulder against his.

Aegon cringes at the touch. He'd avoided physical contact with others at all costs. The feeling of skin against skin wasn't something he enjoyed. Even from her. Even if they both were covered in heavy coats. He can see the realization flash in her eyes as she notices his reaction. The way she turns to him, ready to finally figure it all out.

"Is someone hurting—"

He had never been so thankful for an interruption before. Knowing he wouldn't have been able to avoid that question. It was heavy and demanded an answer that he would not be able to give. No response would've been a silent admission. If Rhaenyra found out then Hell would truly visit Nebraska.

"Dinners ready." Helaena's voice is soft and sweet. The happiness in her tone doesn't meet her eyes. Meeting Aegon with a longing that would never be reciprocated. He'd ruined her in his quest for comfort. In a different lifetime, under different circumstances, perhaps he would've been able to love her too.

—•

If he'd hoped to escape Rhaenyra than it was a battle he'd lose. Taking her seat directly beside him at the table. Forcing himself to ignore her as he focuses on the spread laid before them. Alicent took great pride in her cooking nowadays and as much as she hated Rhaenyra's visits it gave her a great excuse to put the table to good use. They never sat down as a family to eat. Aemond was out most days, with his friends or at practice. Helaena spent a lot of time at the library, having made it her personal mission to fix up the butterfly garden that experienced years of neglect.

If Aegon was home he was far too drunk to care about dinner; though he usually spent his time in hiding. Hidden just off the rarely used highway, just past the tree line, laid an old house. Lost to time. It wasn't his and he doubted it ever would be. No for sale sign. No evidence of a previous owner. Left to rot away until he discovered it. He learned to be good with his hands. Putting every once of his anger into tearing apart the rotting pieces. Pouring his love into replacing them with new ones. DIY youtube videos and whiskey the driving force in his attempt to make the house livable once more.

"Are you going to eat?"

"Can you stop." Foot shooting out to kick her shin. "You're prying and it won't get you anywhere."

Everyone around them oblivious to their whispered conversation. How he wished to be them. To not have Rhaenyra in his ear, practically begging him to talk. Reaching out to grab the bowl of mash potatoes, scooping it onto his plate. If only to appease her. He wasn't hungry.

"Fine. No more prying." It didn't even last a second. "The tools in your truck, what are they for?"

"My house." No one in history has ever wanted to strangle someone more than he does in this moment.

"You have a house? Can I see it?"

"No. Stop prying."

Reaching for the flask he kept tucked in his coat. Checking to make sure Alicent was busy. Fussing over Aemond as usual. Her perfect boy. Quickly bringing it to his lips, finishing off what was left. Making plans to eventually sneak up to his room for a refill. If he was to survive the night he would need it.

"I'm not prying. I'm simply interested in your work." Reaching to plate her own food. It was like pulling teeth to get a single word out of him.

"If I show you the house will you leave me alone?" Looking over to her, hopeful that it would be enough. He couldn't take a whole week of this.

"I'll stop asking so many questions." Smiling over at him. She was not going to give up. It seemed like she was finally getting somewhere. "Will that suffice?"

"Fine. I'll show you the house."

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