(no subject)
Title: Three Brothers
Author: nightdog_writes
Pairing: Gen
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Implied mental illness
Summary: Wilson considers his family and his lost brother
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em in any way, shape, or form.
Notes: My first real try at this. I gratefully acknowledge the help and suggestions of Silverjackal.
Three Brothers
David was the oldest.
Jonathan was the youngest.
James was in-between.
He thought about that, sometimes. What it meant to be in the middle -- the center point in the cycle of hand-me-downs, the peacemaker between older and younger, the never-quite-fitting-in between the respected eldest and the adored baby.
David was the smartest.
James tried the hardest.
Jonathan coasted.
When he was really in a reflective mood, he wondered about their names. Had his parents suspected, even then, what was coming upon David, about to consume him like a raging lion? Was Jonathan meant to be his oldest brother's companion, his steady rock? In the end, no one had been a rock. The lion had devoured them all.
James was the doctor.
Jonathan was the geologist.
David was the lawyer.
The trouble had become obvious a year after David passed the bar. Jonathan was somewhere in Alberta, Canada, researching tar sands, and hadn't been able to make it home in time for Thanksgiving. After the turkey, and cranberry sauce, and Aunt Zelda's special Jello mold that she made every year and everyone hated although no one would say so, David had talked of the taps on his phone, and how the Secret Service agents had tried to contact him by passing coded messages in the grocery store. He knew what "Clean up on aisle nine" really meant, and it wasn't good.
They'd thought he was kidding, at first. Being funny.
He wasn't.
Jonathan has three kids of his own now; he's never told them they have an Uncle David.
James has none; he's divorced ... again.
David is lost.
What James didn't know until much later is that his mother had wanted a girl to balance out their three boys. She'd tried, at least once, to conceive another child, but the effort had ended early, with tears and blood.
She didn't try again.
James wonders now, occasionally, what that would've been like, having a sister. No hand-me-downs, Blue Birds instead of Cub Scouts. He wonders if that would have helped David, kept him from spinning off into his own mad universe. Sometimes he thinks she would've made all the difference; other times, that nothing could've kept his family from dashing onto the rocks.
He never asks what his sister's name would have been.
~fin
Author: nightdog_writes
Pairing: Gen
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Implied mental illness
Summary: Wilson considers his family and his lost brother
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em in any way, shape, or form.
Notes: My first real try at this. I gratefully acknowledge the help and suggestions of Silverjackal.
Three Brothers
David was the oldest.
Jonathan was the youngest.
James was in-between.
He thought about that, sometimes. What it meant to be in the middle -- the center point in the cycle of hand-me-downs, the peacemaker between older and younger, the never-quite-fitting-in between the respected eldest and the adored baby.
David was the smartest.
James tried the hardest.
Jonathan coasted.
When he was really in a reflective mood, he wondered about their names. Had his parents suspected, even then, what was coming upon David, about to consume him like a raging lion? Was Jonathan meant to be his oldest brother's companion, his steady rock? In the end, no one had been a rock. The lion had devoured them all.
James was the doctor.
Jonathan was the geologist.
David was the lawyer.
The trouble had become obvious a year after David passed the bar. Jonathan was somewhere in Alberta, Canada, researching tar sands, and hadn't been able to make it home in time for Thanksgiving. After the turkey, and cranberry sauce, and Aunt Zelda's special Jello mold that she made every year and everyone hated although no one would say so, David had talked of the taps on his phone, and how the Secret Service agents had tried to contact him by passing coded messages in the grocery store. He knew what "Clean up on aisle nine" really meant, and it wasn't good.
They'd thought he was kidding, at first. Being funny.
He wasn't.
Jonathan has three kids of his own now; he's never told them they have an Uncle David.
James has none; he's divorced ... again.
David is lost.
What James didn't know until much later is that his mother had wanted a girl to balance out their three boys. She'd tried, at least once, to conceive another child, but the effort had ended early, with tears and blood.
She didn't try again.
James wonders now, occasionally, what that would've been like, having a sister. No hand-me-downs, Blue Birds instead of Cub Scouts. He wonders if that would have helped David, kept him from spinning off into his own mad universe. Sometimes he thinks she would've made all the difference; other times, that nothing could've kept his family from dashing onto the rocks.
He never asks what his sister's name would have been.
~fin