Sanders Sides One Shots & Shorts

There's No Dibs on Heroes (Brotherly Creativitwins)

TW: this is angsty boop boop
——————————
Date Written: Nov 5, 2020
Word Count: 1332
POV: 3rd Person

It's funny. It's so odd it's almost laughable. Here he is, with a phone in hand, sitting numbly in an office with uncomfortable cheap leather chairs. With a lump lodged in his throat and puffy eyes. With fizzling staticky chaos surrounding him on all sides, and all he can think about is halloween.

They used to go trick or treating together every year, him and his little brother. Himself as a knight, always as a knight, or a prince, or something of the sort. His brother would go as an octopus, a pirate, or sometimes-- when he was really little and still idolized his older brother like he was the sun to his earth--he'd want to dress up as a prince too.

But of course, when he was young and he couldn't understand, nevermind spell long words like "idolize," Roman always told his brother to stop copying him, it's not funny anymore. Eventually they'd settled that argument, when his mother had suggested that the younger be a duke instead. Initially, Remus was very opposed to this idea, but since Roman had chosen the prince position first, and therefore had irrefutable first dibs, Remus eventually gave in. Then, they walked around their community, asking their neighbours for candy.

Now, all Remus cares about is horror. He has clown dolls in his bedroom, voodoo dolls on his bookshelf, and he writes, paints, draws, reads, lives terror. He begs and begs their parents to let him watch those movies with an age restriction that he isn't even close to meeting. Perhaps he likes how his racing uneven heartbeat can make itself known. But in those first few years, as surprising as it may seem, Remus didn't like anything scary at all. On halloween, Roman always had to be the one to go up the pathways first, promising his little brother that he'd protect him. He'd draw out his plastic costume sword, and hold it in front of him like the holy grail of immunity to defend off unwelcome creatures until they safely reached the other side. Sometimes, if a house was particularly darkened, or had a statue that looked like it could potentially-- even just maybe --jump out at him, Remus would refuse to go up all together, and Roman would face the demons alone, no matter how scared he himself was. He'd make sure to bring back extra candy for his brother, too.

That was before Roman grew a little too old for trick-or-treating, and his brother learned that there are much scarier things in the world than ghoulish decorations. It was so easy to be his hero back then, even two years ago.

When he could be brave-- despite his own crawling fears --and protect his brother, Roman would feel just like all the brave knights he dressed up as. It made him feel happy.

Now, all he can feel is insurmountable failure.

A seizure, they'd told him. Your brother had a seizure. In the locker room, his class had been changing into their gymstrips when it had happened. No adults in the room, only the tile to catch him when he fell. One of his classmates had screamed, another ran for the teacher half-naked.

He was unresponsive for over fifteen minutes.

He'd been taken to the hospital in an ambulance, his parents got there just as he arrived, but only because they'd pushed the speed limit, and ran every red light. Because for them, then, the rules didn't apply anymore. In that moment, when your nine-year-old is unresponsive and alone in the darkness that gags them, your safety no longer matters. Nothing matters besides getting there, seeing him, holding him, telling him that you've got him, regardless of what happens.

They waited until after everything was over to tell Roman about it.

They pulled him out of class, took him down to sit with his junior-high school principal who he would've hardly recognized if it weren't for the closing remarks she always gave at the schoolwide assemblies. Then they told him. Your nine-year-old baby brother, who you were supposed to look out for, had a seizure today in the locker room. And he was unresponsive for over fifteen minutes.