Colorful Brother Chapter 1
Title: Colorful Brother
Author: 2he_re (Heather and Reena)
Fandom: Jonas Brothers
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, the real people in it are used without their permission and we do not own them or have any copyright to any part of any of them. We do not believe any of this happened, is likely to happen, or will happen. It is simply a story created around known facts about those involved.
Summary: He doesn’t remember anything before the white flash. He needs to stand the colors, to fix everything. So his brother can be happy again. So that Kevin and Danielle can be happy. So the boy before the white can come back, and make everything right.
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13
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White walls. White Curtains. White tiled floors. White door. White bed frame. White chest. White table. White clothes.
He slowly raised his hand up in front of his face, observing it like one might a lab rat, with slight disgust and fascination.
White skin. White nails.
His hair fell into his eyes and he shook it back.
Brown hair.
He glanced at the mirror in front of him.
Green eyes stared back.
Hurriedly he averted his gaze to the wall.
White wall.
He didn’t like any other color besides white. Except white wasn’t really a color. So maybe he just didn’t like colors in general.
There was no warning when the door was opened. Not quickly, not slowly, just a normal way one opens a door. Nothing like how some people who tend to him here do it. Those people aren't family.
White lights illuminated the hallway outside.
He was allowed to go out of his room if he wanted, but he didn’t want. Too many colors could be seen if by accident eyes shift to a window. Too many colors like the guy who entered his room without warning. He didn’t like that, but apparently this man, his brother, had always let himself in without warning. He wanted the normal before the white flash in his mind. Maybe that was why he could only stand white, because he was so often with it in his mind.
“Nick?”
He glanced up for just a moment, taking in the colors.
Dark brown hair like his. Brown eyes. Gram-cracker skin. Blue pants. Red and black shirt.
Black.
His eyes lingered for barely a second longer before they flashed down to his brother’s shoes.
White. Dirty white.
He fastened his eyes on the wall.
White. Pure white.
“Can I come in?”
You’re already in, he thought. But he didn’t say that. “Sure,” he said. He didn’t say ‘yes’ or ‘okay’ because in the videos he had watched of himself before the white, he had said ‘sure’. Not ‘yes’ or ‘okay’. He hadn’t really watched anything except the white walls that framed the sleek grey TV, but he had listened.
His brother moved into his vision so he changed his line of vision ‘til it wasn’t abstracted by the colors. He sunk as the bed sunk with the weight of his brother.
White sheets. White mattress. White pillows. White throw.
For a moment colors flashed in his mind.
Dirty white shoes on white.
He rose from the bed and, without looking at his brother and the colors, he moved to the table. He cleared a small spot and sat on it, legs crossed on his lap.
“So what’s been happening with you?”
He shrugged. “Nothing much, same old, same old. You?” He really didn’t care. But probably once upon a time he had.
“Went to the beach.”
He nodded. That explained the gram-cracker tinted skin. Normally his brother was white, like him. Sometimes then he could stare at his brother’s arm and make his brother feel better. It made his brother feel better because then it meant he was looking at his brother, acknowledging his sibling. He didn’t know how he knew it made his brother happy. Maybe it was because they were brothers. Maybe something had broken through the white without him realizing it.
“You should’ve come. Next time.”
No, he wanted to say, to shout. But he just shrugged. “Maybe.”
“Are you feeling okay?”
“Same old, same old.”
“You say that a lot.”
“So?”
“You should get out more, see the world.”
“Later.” He could imagine a frown on the pink lips.
Pink.
The thought was gone. He refused to think it again.
“You said that last time. If you don’t go soon I’m dragging you out.”
He knew his brother wasn’t serious, not really. Not after how much damage it had caused last time. But his brother wanted him to get out anyway. But he wouldn’t go. That one time out had been enough. Too many colors.
Not enough white.
He didn’t like the colors that his brother had no problems with. His brother would drag him out again, would hold him through his screaming rages because of the colors. His brother would stand by him, trying to show him more than just the white, but his brother wouldn’t make him go through the shots again, the drugs that had been shot up into him. His brother wouldn’t make him go through the hours of numbness and confusion again. Not if his brother could help it.
“How’s Kevin?”
“Working.”
Working, working, working, always working. He stayed quiet, eyes on something white. Anything white. Anything but his brother. His colorful brother.
“He said he’ll try to make it up next week.”
With his wife, he wanted to add. He would never say it aloud but he allowed himself to admit that he wished Kevin never had married. It was selfish, he knew. But he missed his other brother. That brother wore white, and sometimes a white hat and white glasses. He could talk and laugh and look at him. He’d feel almost normal, like he belonged somewhere.
But he felt he belonged less and less.
His oldest brother came with Danielle now, and he didn’t like her. Her skin was never their creamy white and her nails were always painted. She would wear makeup and refuse the white glasses.
She would cry and complain.
Not inside his room, but outside where he didn’t think they knew he could hear them. She sobbed and asked why he wouldn’t look her in the eyes like Kevin. Or where did the boy who loved her go?
He could answer that one. That boy who she knew stayed behind in the white. He didn’t know why. He wanted that boy back, because he didn’t feel like he belonged here. The boy before the white did. Everyone remembered him before, no one wanted him now. They didn’t want him after the white. They wouldn’t tell him what the white was, though he was sure they knew.
He’d asked.
He had asked a while ago; when he found out he used to be someone before the white.
There were lots of pictures from before the white. Lots of videos.
Kevin made some black and white so he could see what he had been like before. He didn’t like watching them, even though he could look at them. He would just listen like the colored ones his brother brought in. He didn’t like the person before the white.
Because he was jealous.
He wished he was the person before the white. He wished he could know everything that the boy before the white knew. That he could act like him and have friends like him. He wished he could connect with his brothers.
“Nick?”
He looked up. He actually looked up at his brother.
Brown eyes.
He swallowed, staring at the brown eyes. He was going to fix himself. He was going to remember, his brother would have the boy before the white back, and he’d be happy. He wanted to make his brother happy.
Brown eyes.
“Nick?” He barely took note of his brother’s voice. It was concerned. He didn’t know why. He didn’t want to know. He was going to fix everything. The boy before the white would come back, and everything would be perfect and go back to that time in the videos, that everyone loved.
He stared, taking in the brown, trying to convince himself that the brown was white. It was just some color, it didn’t matter that it was brown, that it wasn’t white. That it wasn’t pure white. He looked away, down to his brother’s arm.
Gram-cracker tan.
He snapped his head around. He failed. He didn’t know why, he couldn’t stand the brown. He couldn’t stand the tan. He wanted the white. He could only look at the white. He stared at the wall.
White wall.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered.
~*~