Brothers H.S M.S.

Chapter 1

Harry sat at the kitchen table, pulling on the blue beanie sitting on his head, covering his curly hair that had decided to be impossible to deal with this morning.

Anne stood at the stove, slowly stirring whatever she was making the boys for breakfast while she tried to have a normal conversation with her oldest son.

But with Harry being Harry, a normal conversation wasn't something that was to be expected from the 17 year old. Juvenile detention at age 16 had taken its toll on Harry, in more ways than one.

He was far more muscular now than he had been when he had been sent away. The fights and attempted escapes had forced Harry to get into shape. His thoughts seemed darker, his words more foul, his body language warned anyone around him not to cross him.

But Anne was trying to normalize Harry to his surroundings. He didn't have to fight for a comfortable bed, his meals weren't a race to eat before someone takes your food from you, and he doesn't have to shout to be heard. And Harry was learning all that again. But these things took time.

So when Anne was trying to have a normal conversation with the 17 year old, he knew not to shout and not to swear.

But Anne's attempt at a conversation wasn't about anything Harry wanted to talk about and he didn't care to apologize for changing the subject when he spoke.

"I don't think Marcey likes girls." Harry told his mom, who had turned the stove burner off and taken the pot off the burner.

"What makes you say that?" Anne didn't understand why Harry would think Marcel, or Marcey as Harry had always called his twin brother, wouldn't like girls.

"Well, he doesn't ever show any interest in any of them, does he? Has he ever talked about any to you? Ones he has crushes on or anything?" Harry asked, while resting his arms on the table.

"We both know Marcel doesn't really talk to anyone but you." Anne laughed and sat the pot of oatmeal on the table in front of her son.

"While I was gone, I meant." He clarified and Anne tensed slightly.

When Harry was sent away to detention after nearly killing a fellow student from school, Marcel suffered a nervous breakdown. Without his brother, he was defenseless against bullies at school. Also, without his brother he didn't feel safe and complete. He needed his twin. He had needed Harry. And Marcel had always seen Harry getting sent away as Harry leaving him on purpose, as if he had any control over it.

"Maybe he just hasn't met the right girl." Anne sat at the table, fixing herself a bowl of oatmeal.

"Or he just doesn't like girls." Harry repeated, while getting himself some breakfast.

"Would that be such a terrible thing?" Anne wasn't sure where her oldest son stood on non-hetro relationships, and was already getting defensive over her son who may or may not be non-hetro.

"I don't care wether Marcey likes girls or guys. As long as he's happy and safe." That made Anne smile. As rude and cynical as Harry could be, when it came to Marcel he was the most caring person you could ask for.

"Morning." Both Harry and Anne looked up from their bowls of oatmeal to see the scrawnier of the twins walk into the kitchen, looking half-asleep and still dressed in pajamas, much like Harry.

"Morning." Anne smiled and watched as Marcel sat in the chair next to Harry at the table and closed his eyes, leaning over until his head rested on his brother's shoulder.

"You hungry?" Harry asked his twin, wiggling his shoulder just enough for Marcel to open his eyes, slightly worried his head might slip off his brother's shoulder.

"Mm, yeah." Was Marcel's mumbled answer. And that's when Harry noticed Marcel's glasses. These were a different pair than he had remembered.

"What happened to your wooden framed glasses?" Harry asked as he slipped the plastic framed glasses off his brother's face without any protest from the smaller twin.

"They broke." Marcel answered quickly and went about fixing himself a bowl of oatmeal. But Harry was too observant and he saw both his mother and brother obviously tense from his last question.

"Who broke your glasses?" And that's when Anne let out a sigh and Marcel slowly sat himself back down in the chair next to Harry's, while avoiding eye contact.

"No one said-" Marcel quietly spoke, but was cut off by his four-hours-older twin.

"I didn't have to be told that it was someone and not something that broke them. Yours and mum's face told me enough about that. Now that who was it?" Harry's hands were now gripping the edge of the table so tight his knuckles had turned white and he was talking with clenched teeth. His anger levels were already rising high. Someone had broken his brother's glasses. Again.

"Just someone at school. It was an accident." Marcel's voice was very quiet and hard to hear, but Harry heard it and he wanted to punch the table to let out his frustrations, but he was considerate of his brother who couldn't handle tense situations well.

"Next time, just kick their ass so hard their balls fall off." Harry advised his twin who's eyes widened at his brother's language and violet suggestion.

Even though Marcel was 17, he had never really thought it was "okay" to say things like balls, ass, damn, or anything that was considered a more adult word. His brain just didn't work that way. But he understood that his brother used words like that, even more so now since he'd come back from juvie. And he accepted his brother still the same, bad words and all.

"Harry, the problem has been taken care of. Marcel has new glasses and it won't happen again. That's a promise." Anne told her son as she carried her now empty breakfast bowl to the sink.

"That's what you said four pairs of glasses ago!" Harry suddenly shouted and stood up from his chair, anger coursing through his veins. His mother had promised that kind of promise too many times before.

His skin felt hot with anger, but an almost ice cold hand touched his arm and he looked over to see Marcel with his hand resting on Harry's tattooed arm, his green eyes pleading while staring into the same kind of green eyes.

Harry's anger was pushed back for now, he didn't want to upset his brother.

"Sorry, little brother. Sorry." Anne placed her bowl in the sink and turned to see Harry wrap his arms around his brother from behind while Marcel sat and Harry stood behind, resting his chin on Marcel's head.

"I won't shout again. Sorry."

And it made Anne smile, because Harry really cared. But the two boys were still so heavily dependent on the other. And she knew that could cause troubles down the road.