Walking the Line

Till Death Do Us Part

"Mother?" He's bleeding out into the dull gray of the upholstery in her beat up Chevy truck, calling out blindly. "Mother?" Silas calls again. His eyes open and he blinks rapidly, his breathing erratic. Finally he sees her, her face pressed into the airbag, a singular streak of blood trailing down the white fabric. It's kind of poetic, really, the way her arm cradles him so so gently, the way her eyes are still gazing at him, now blank. Her protection is his regret, now. He had never wanted her to do this. He didn't ask.
"Mother!" He screams over the sirens, now present. "Mother! Mama, I'm sorry!"
He wraps his bleeding arms around her small shoulders, now cold and sticky with drying blood. "I'm sorry."

"Silas! Wake up!"
He jolts awake to a hand on his shoulder. "There we go. You okay?"
There's darkness, at first. Not the usual black, but a deep warm brown, with a few scars here and there, with the face of a fucking angel.
Sweet mercy, he's still as flawless as ever.
Shaking his thoughts away, he blinks tiredly. "Always."
   His oldest brother doesn't look convinced. His cognac eyes narrow at him suspiciously. "You sure?"
"That wouldn't have been my answer if I wasn't."
"You haven't gotten any better at lying, you know."
"But I'm not lying."
Draconus doesn't look amused. "Mhm." He runs his hand through his dark hair. "It's time for breakfast, champ."
Silas narrows his eyes momentarily. "Alright." Draco grins as he slumps out of bed and onto the floor. "You wanna carry me, like a good bro?"
"...Fine." He huffs and picks him up under the arms like a kitten, examining his face for a moment.
Silas' eyes have drifted closed again, waiting for Draco to move.
Finally, he does, taking him to the kitchen and setting him down gently as he goes to retrieve plates for the both of them. His older sister, Lucelia, all dark- skinned curves and long, black hair, stares at him from across the table as Quinne makes her way into the room with Arielle. Silas blinks at the two of them. Quinne and Arielle are Silas' only blood relatives in this set of five siblings. It's complicated, but to simplify it, Lucelia, Draconus, and Quinne have the same father but Quinne has the same mother as Silas and Arielle. His sisters seem to be polar opposites, no matter who you compare to who. Lucelia is beautiful, with well tanned skin, long, curly black hair and gifted with... Assets. She wears crop tops and cutoff jeans, clearly self confident in her body.
Arielle, on the other hand, is shy, and covers up with baggy band shirts and wears skinny jeans with holes in them, along with Doc Martins and a black beanie adorned with buttons from various Hot Topic stores. She has waist length blonde hair that she keeps in a braid and pale skin, with slight freckles under her blue eyes.
And then there's Quinne.
Seemingly boyish, her hair is kept short and shaggy, dyed a deep blood red, her bangs kept back with clips or a headband when she's working. Silas can almost never see her eyes, which are brown, and appreciates it when she clips her bangs back.
(For a while after the car crash, Silas couldn't bear to look at it, and she kept it under a ball cap.)
She's short, roughly five foot four, and wears cutoff overalls and short sleeved tee shirts, as well as black high top Converses.
Silas pulls himself out of thought drowsily as Draco flicks his forehead playfully and asks what he wants to eat.
Silas blinks. "'m not hungry."
Lucelia grins as Draco frowns.
"Silas..." He starts, slightly threatening, but Quinne intervenes, "Silas, let's go to the shop!"
Draco opens his mouth to protest, but they're already gone.
Silas exhales appreciatively as she drags him into the workshop, pulling on her toolbelt and slipping on a pair of gloves.
Did Silas forget to mention she was a mechanic?
Well she is.
A damned good one at that.
Anyway, as she starts pulling out parts she addresses Silas. "Are you really okay, Silas?"
Silas stares at her tinkering hands for a moment, wishing his own could be that busy so he wouldn't have to see them shake. He decides to be truthful. "No."
Her head whips around to look at him, and the conversation starts.

Let's just say that when Draco and Lucelia come in that evening, they've both fallen asleep hunched over her workbench, tears staining their pale faces and hands linked at the pinkies.