Chapter Text
White and Black. Black and White, two brothers born in the same life, the same family, the same routine… and yet as much as they were similar, they were also quite different in certain aspects. Where White was careful, always watching, Black ran into an empty hall not knowing danger lingered at the end. One was often hurt, and the other suffered because of it. Black did not become more careful, and White did not become more reckless.
In the dead of night, both hidden under their respective blankets, they looked at each other and seemed to speak without words, listening to their parents arguing over nothing again, as it went almost every night. They shouted in a hushed way, but Black and White heard everything. Where White became more quiet, more docile and obedient, Black acted out. He became louder unapologetically, turning his head away when his mother leaned in for a hug. White always hugged her instead, but Black saw the disappointment in his mother's eyes. Where father took to White more, it seemed that being emotionally distant and a rebel of sorts was what made his mother want Black close even more. Maybe she, too, had once been the child that did not “need” love. Or so he wanted to appear on the outside, but White felt it. His need for warmth, even when he rejected it.
“Do you think they're fighting because of us?” White whispered once, after many days of consecutive fighting.
Black had been laying in bed, attempting to sleep when White asked, and he sat up like he had been wide awake the whole time. He was conflicted, as he often was, but it was never White's fault. None of it ever was, so he padded his way over to his brother's bed, sitting on the edge with a sigh. “No. They've always been fighting. I think they're just worried about you.”
“Me? But you were the one that got hurt.” White frowned, reaching out to touch his brother's bruised elbow, feeling a stab of pain in his own.
“So were you, because of me.” Black shrugged. “We'll be fine, okay? Go to sleep.”
“What if I don't wake up again?” Black snorted at that.
“Go to sleep, White. I'll be watching over you, okay?” Black ruffled a hand through his brother's hair before standing up as they heard their parents’ voices quiet down.
“Okay. Good night, Black.” Black only nodded in return, climbing into his own bed.
The crash and burn came only a month later, when Black suffered head trauma after a fall, and White fell off of the stairs at school because of the pain. Both ended up in the hospital, but it only had one cause.
“—think it's time. They will only keep getting hurt.” White laid still in his bed, his eyes closed as he heard his parents speak. “I think we should separate.”
“What? You want me to leave the boys?”
“No,” White curled his fingers into the blanket, but did not notify them of his waking yet. “I want you to take White.”
White exhaled as slowly as he could. As quietly, and once he had not a single breath of air left, he held it and stopped breathing entirely, feeling his heart hammer wildly in his chest, thumping against his ribcage. He did not let up until all the alarm bells on the hospital machinery started to wail loudly. It was already enough to notify his brother, wherever he was, so White gasped in all the air he could, tears gathered in his eyes, though the rims could not carry the weight of his guilt alone. So they had been fighting about him. About Black, about their incidents—
This was all because of their connection.
“White?” His father asked, slowly approaching, but White yanked the tubes out of his arm, rolling out of the bed and landing on his bruised and scraped leg, causing him to hiss as he got as close to the window as possible.
“White, you weren't supposed to hear that.” His mother spoke slowly. “Come back here, we can talk about it, okay? We can get you some ice cream—”
“White!” It was too late. There was nothing to talk about as Black came barrelling into the room, seeing his brother hovering near an open window with tears in his eyes. “White!” Black shouted again, pushing past his parents, even if they tried to call out to him. No one could stop him from getting to White.
When arms wrapped tightly around him, White sank into the hug, finally letting out a sob that had been stuck in a dry throat. “They want to separate us.” White whispered. “Mom doesn't want me anymore.”
“What?” Black pulled back from the hug to cup his brother's face. “What?”
“Why don't you want me?!” White turned his head to look at his mother, tears clouding his vision whilst Black continued to hold him, as it was the only thing he could do to soothe his brother.
“Please,” Black began more calmly, shielding White with his body as he spoke. “I will be more careful. I will watch him! He didn't do anything wrong, he's just a kid! He's too young, he doesn't understand.” The irony wasn't lost on White. They were the same age, and yet Black defended him as if he was years older, and White just a baby. “Please don't take him away from me. Please…”
“Black…”
“I will do better! I, I…” Black shook his head. “I can be better.”
“Black, you have proven time and time again that you don't know what the word careful means. Your brother could have died today,” his mother spoke with barely any emotion in her tone. She sounded detached. “Then what? What would you have said, then?”
“Ai hia!” Black shouted, reaching for White's hand to squeeze it as his brother cried louder and louder. “You can't take him from me.” Black spoke more clearly. A statement invisibly veiled with a threat.
“Black, do you want your brother to die?”
All this time, a nurse had been watching from outside the room, and the moment it fell silent, she rushed inside. “The alarm went off.”
“Leave.” Their father ordered, even if the nurse sputtered. “Leave!”
Black looked at White, slowly nodding as White sniffled.
“I don't want to go.” His bottom lip trembled, his big eyes shiny, something Black had never been able to stomach. Seeing his brother so lost, hopeless, when he was supposed to be the spark of light between the two of them.
“You have to,” Black fished an old handkerchief out of his pocket, using it to dab away White's tears. White knew what it meant… “I'll always be with you in here,” Black tapped White's chest two times. “Okay? Remember the old skate park we used to go to? The promise we made?” White nodded.
A promise to meet there if anything ever went bad.
“Good. Remember it, baby brother.”
White did. White did remember it. He didn't think he would ever forget.
♞
𝙶𝚞𝚖𝚙𝚊'𝚜 𝚐𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚐𝚎, 𝚏𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚔𝚜 𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎𝚛
Working on a 1987 ducati that had been wheeled in almost completely totaled, Gumpa sighed as Yok came over with a glass of Cha manao.
“Thanks kid. Can you grab me the—” he never got to finish his sentence as a bang sounded on the door, followed by frantic yelling.
“Please help!” Gumpa's eyes widened as he stood up, throwing his dirty, oiled rag onto the ground before making his way to the garage door. Sliding it open, he saw two kids, barely Yok's age, as they stumbled in, one hanging his whole weight on the other.
“What happened?” Gumpa urged as he looked at the kid dressed in white. He looked sick.
“I don't know,” the one in black shook his head as Gumpa helped him lower the kid onto the couch. “Can you help him?”
“I'm not a doctor,” Gumpa frowned, looking down at the boy that continued to cry in pain, clutching his stomach. “Hey kid,” Gumpa snapped his fingers. “Are you sure you don't know?”
“We… we were,” the kid in black sighed. “Erm, playing outside,” it was a clear lie, but Gumpa didn't push it. “White ate something— do you think his food was poisoned?”
“No,” Gumpa shook his head. “Doesn't look like poison. Maybe an allergic reaction. Why don't you call your parents?”
“No!” The kid in black shouted. “We can't.”
“Why not?” Gumpa was curious. Sue him.
“They are the reason we're on the street.” He huffed.
“What's your name, kid?”
“I'm Black. That's White.” He pointed to his brother who grabbed his stomach harder.
“Like the colours? Shit, you two are like a stereotype. White is dressed in white, Black is dressed in black. What other stereotypes are you going for?” Yok chuckled, but Gumpa only cleared his throat.
“Can you get the vinegar, Yok?”
“Vinegar?” Black asked as Yok walked off. “Why vinegar?”
“We're gonna make your brother throw up.” Gumpa said easily. Just as he said that, the radio in the corner sounded.
“After weeks, the Potiakorn twins have not been found. The family is distraught after the teen boys escaped the summer residence.” Black frowned as Gumpa caught on.
“We can't go back.” White met Gumpa's gaze straight on. “Don't make us go back.”
“Listen, I will do what I can to help your brother, but I can't keep the cops from finding you—”
“I can deal with that part, just don't tell ‘em you know where we are.” Black sniffed. “Please.”