[God Moving Over the Face of the Waters]
Solo
Words: 485
Points: 1/1
Solo
Words: 485
Points: 1/1
Tallying the members of his family was a harrowing, dangerous, and chaotic task.
"Andy, quit'cher running and get back on the boat-"
"Claire! Hold still, your hair's a mess-"
"Uncle Ben, no, I can't really explain right now - oh, whoa! Put the gun down-"
"Murphy, don't touch the water, you idjit!"
It was with great relief that he was finally able to hand the reigns over to his grandfather, who, venerable as he was, took complete and instantaneous command with a single puff of his cigar. Like the irresponsible lad he was, he left his post with his tail between his legs, retreating to sit next to Murphy with a whooshed sigh of gratitude.
The trip was only half over.
"You think we win the Biggest Family award?" his brother chuckled next to him, and Seamus responded with a wan grin.
"Dunno, mate, mebbe we forgot a few." Almost anxiously, his eyes raked once more over his huge family, double and triple checking for every familiar face.
"They're all there, boy-o." There was a strangeness to Murphy's voice, a kind of worry that Seamus didn't hear too often.
He glanced at his twin, puzzled. In answer, Murphy's head inclined towards their other, self-isolated brother - the boy tucked away at the rails and staring, desolately, into the river waters.
It took a minute for the connection to click in Seamus' mind, and he nearly jumped up, scanning the rest of the boat for the first time. Then, slowly, he sat back down with a heavy thump.
"Yeah," Murphy breathed, dark eyebrows knotting together.
"Maybe she's with her god." Seamus was quick to come up with alternatives, explanations, justifications.
"Maybe."
"You know, Prince disappeared for so long, after all. We thought he was dead too, ya'nno."
"Yeah."
Seamus grunted at Murphy's reticence, but couldn't deny that things looked bleak.
"It'll be alright."
"'Course it will," Murphy countered, gruffly, reaching over to muss Seamus' hair with blatant disregard for Seamus' predefined personal space.
Seamus decided to be the bigger man, this time, and refrained from retaliation. But he couldn't quite shake off his unease at the look at Murphy's face, seeing too many similarities between his and Valeriu's to be without suspicion.
No, he denied, firmly. Wasn't ever like that.
Except he remembered the blatant attraction, the stolen first kisses, so well within Murphy's character but now, maybe, something more. Something that he hadn't suspected his often gregarious, outspoken, open twin could have ever managed to hide.
With a tired sigh, he shifted, slumping to lean against Murphy and stealing his shoulder for a pillow, as his brother grumbled and complained but bore the weight. Today had been a long, harrowing, emotional day for everybody. His goddess brushed against his mind, silently soothing his near-permanent headache and gently lulling him into the grey depths of a dreamless sleep.
Tomorrow, it would be better.
Heaven, have mercy.
