Big Bruder

Chapter 3: Deep Rooted Histories

"What are we going to do?" Roderich muttered, bending down as he picked his glasses back up.

Basch fell down onto the sofa, his eyebrows knitted together as he tossed his rifle on top of the nightstand. "Well I'll obviously have to take Elise back right away! Thanks to you, I now have to deal with this mess."

Roderich straightened himself up, "Watch what you say in my house!" He stomped over to the blond.

Their faces stood inches apart, their intense glare hardening into icicles as the only thing separating them was their hot breaths.

Teal waves of water swirling in chaos, lilac flowers swaying in the wind, rosy red cheeks, it all spiraled down to this moment. Their heartbeats sang, its beat hammering loud and lonely, like a lone wolf on a full moon's night.

Thump.

The two men spun their heads towards the tiny booklet that had fallen upon the floor, the spectral event tempting suspicion as a metal heart shaped lock glittered under the dull sunlight.

"Ladies first," Basch faced Roderich from his comfortable position upon the sofa.

Roderich glared at Basch. "Then I'll be needing this," he snatched the forgotten rifle from the nightstand, "Thanks."

"Hey!" Basch shot up as he reached for his most valued weapon, taking a huge step forward.

Roderich turned to mock the man, only to realize too late that Basch was much faster than he had thought. Four hands gripped the gun tightly as it was yanked from different directions.

"Give it back!" yelled Basch, his voice raising without restraint.

"Nein!" Roderich clenched his teeth as he hung on for his dear life. Never being the athletic one, the gun was easily pulled out of grasp as he fell to the floor, his head hitting the bed frame with a loud bang.

His body crumpled like a lifeless ragdoll, his glasses rolling off his face as his hair was tousled across his eyes.

Basch hesitated before calling out his name. "Roderich?"

No answer.

"Roderich!"

Nothing.

He bit his lip harder as the metallic taste of blood filled his bitter mouth. The rifle clanked soundlessly on the ground as Basch rushed over to Roderich's side.

His surprisingly gentle hands brushed over Roderich's face, pushing his hair out of the way. Scanning for bruises, Basch lifted Roderich's head off the ground, checking for any signs of blood. Unbeknownst to Roderich, Basch's whole body was trembling as his fingers found the sticky and coppery smell of blood on the back of Roderich's head.

Magically pulling bandages out of his jacket pocket, Basch wrapped them around the unconscious man's head, then locking his arm around his shoulder as he lugged Roderich over towards the soft bed.

Laying Roderich on the bed eased a small part of Basch, though the tension was still stiff in his muscles. He pulled off the purple coat that Roderich always wore, and to his surprise, it was the same overcoat Basch had given Roderich a long time ago. Tending to Roderich had suddenly let old memories re-emerge from long ago, memories that he had purposely tried to keep shut away.

Basch sighed as he hung the sweater over a chair, pulling the bedsheets up and over the injured patient. "Rest well," he muttered so quietly that it was barely audible.

Roderich seemed to have broken into a fever as his forehead was dotted with sweat, cheeks a puffy red, and his breathes raspy. Basch placed his hand on top Roderich's forehead, hoping to somehow use his cold hands to help the fever.