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 Posted: Tue Sep 16, 2025 5:47 pm
Quinn flinched like he’d been struck, despite the softness of Tyr’s words.
Alright.
I’m sorry.
That wasn’t what he wanted. How could it be? Quinn had braced for a fight, for Tyr to argue with him, give him another perspective, show him he was wrong. He could’ve handled that. He would have even welcomed Tyr shouting at him, although it was hard to imagine Tyr raising his voice. But Tyr’s voice was so quiet, so resigned, that Quinn’s anger collapsed in on itself, leaving him stunned and ashamed.
He swallowed, his throat thick with emotion. His grip slipped from Tyr’s sleeve, leaving his hand hanging uselessly in the space between them, before he pulled it back like he’d touched something hot.
“...Don’t do that,” he muttered, the words rough almost like a growl. “Don’t--... fold yourself up like that just because I opened my damn mouth. You don’t have to-- agree with me. You don’t have to take it. You’re my brother, Tyr, not--...” He trailed off, biting hard on the words before they came out as something else he’d regret.
Quinn rubbed his hand over his face, frustrated, ashamed, exhausted. “I don’t want to hurt you. I’m just--” His breath caught on the words and he shook his head, staring down at the floor in front of the couch. “I’m angry. I don’t know what to do with it most of the time. And now you look at me like I’ve done something wrong just by being here.”
The silence pressed in, heavy and suffocating. Quinn’s chest tightened and his heart fluttered wildly with anxious regret.
“I can go,” he said finally, even if it was painful to say. “If I’m too much. If being around me feels--...” his voice cracked, low and bitter. He shook his head again, trying to ground himself with the reality of things. “I’d rather let my anger out somewhere it won’t hurt anyone than watch you shrink away from me.”
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Posted: Tue Sep 16, 2025 5:47 pm
“I didn’t know that’s how I’m looking at you,” Tyr said. “I’m sorry.”
He hadn’t meant to look at Quinn as if Quinn had done anything wrong, because he hadn’t. Tyr hadn’t meant to shrink or fold in on himself either. He sat stiffly, his posture perfect, just as he’d been taught. He listened carefully and absorbed Quinn’s words to limit the risk that he might miss something important—a phrase that might mean two things at once; a shift in Quinn’s tone that might reveal hidden emotion.
Somehow nothing Tyr said or did was right. He struggled to determine what he should do or say instead. He didn’t want to argue, not with Quinn. Tyr rarely ever argued with him. He answered questions and explained himself when prompted, but he saw no point in defiance or brazen contradiction against his brother. Especially now. Quinn was hurting, and Tyr had only added to it. What right did he have to tell Quinn otherwise?
Tyr knew he had to do better. Foolish whore. Maybe that was all he would ever be. He couldn’t save Ymir. He couldn’t defend himself—often didn’t want to. He couldn’t survive on his own. He couldn’t protect his brother in the past. Now he couldn’t console him correctly. He trusted the wrong people, seeking comfort and safety from a man his brother would likely never approve of. He mourned wrong, searching for flickers of memory in someone who wasn’t Llamrei, who would never be Llamrei, who shouldn’t have to be.
“I don’t want you to leave,” Tyr said without raising his voice above a whisper. “I’m sorry. I’m not sure what I did or said to make you think that. I only just found you. I don’t want to lose you again.”
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Posted: Tue Sep 16, 2025 5:47 pm
Quinn let out a bitter laugh, sharp and with no joy in the sound. “You didn’t do anything, Tyr. That’s the problem. You just… take it. You sit there and fold yourself smaller and smaller and apologize like you’ve committed some crime when I’m the one spitting fire,” he growled, his hands curling into fists, then opened again, restless. “I don’t know how you stand it. I don’t know how you stand me.”
His chest heaved with the effort of breathing around the thickness of emotions in his throat. He wanted to be angry still, wanted to build it and use it as fuel, but Tyr’s whisper cut through him like a blade. I don’t want to lose you again.
Quinn scrubbed his hands over his face again, hard enough that it stung, and then dropped them into his lap. “Damnit, I don’t want to go,” he practically groaned, his voice cracking, betraying him. “I’d rather tear this whole damn city apart, brick by brick, than walk away from you again.”
He leaned forward, elbows braced against his knees, staring helplessly at the floor. His jaw was tight, his voice low and rough when he spoke again. “But… I don’t know how to… be with you anymore. Everything I say feels like it comes out wrong. And I don’t want you looking at me like I’m some storm you’ve got to suffer through until I burn myself out. I don’t want to be that for you.”
His head dipped lower, hair falling into his face. “I just wanted to protect what little we have left. And now I don’t even know if I’m protecting you, or scaring you.”
For what felt like the first time in years, Quinn’s voice cracked soft, almost pleading. “Tell me how to stay, Tyr. Just… tell me how to do this without losing you all over again.”
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Posted: Tue Sep 16, 2025 5:48 pm
“I don’t know what you mean,” Tyr said, brow creased with hurt, fear, and confusion. “I upset you, so I apologized for it. I didn’t realize that wasn’t what you wanted.”
With most people, Tyr didn’t bother anymore. He spoke only with whom he had to. Eld, mostly. Sometimes Paris and Chris; most days he conversed with their children more than he conversed with them. Occasionally he might join in on a conversation when he and Eld were out around other Senshi and Knights, but Tyr’s interest in forming bonds with them was limited. Friendships and alliances never did him much good in the past. Someone always wanted something. Now that he could live for himself, Tyr didn’t usually care to give them that.
Maybe he’d lost the art of conversation. Maybe he didn’t understand people anymore. Maybe he never had to begin with. He’d done what he’d been told until everyone who’d told him what to do had gone, and he’d believed what he’d been told until he could no longer bury the truth. He didn’t know what to do or how to be or what to believe on his own, except to keep to himself and stay out of the way, and try to build a life away from everything he’d ever known.
“You don’t know how to be with me anymore…” Tyr considered this statement more than all the others. He didn’t mind that Quinn was angry, even if he didn’t know how to help him with it. He didn’t begrudge Quinn for his grief even if they expressed it differently. Tyr didn’t understand how or why that was wrong, he only knew it must be if Quinn was upset by it.
“I haven’t done anything I wouldn’t have done before,” Tyr said, too quiet and gentle to be chiding. “I don’t know why you’d think you’d lose me. I don’t know what I’ve done to make you think you would. I’m sorry I mentioned—”
There he went almost mentioning her again in the course of apologizing. Tyr swallowed her name down, even if it hurt to do so.
“I should have waited. You’ve been through enough. I don’t want to make it worse.”
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Posted: Tue Sep 16, 2025 5:48 pm
Quinn sucked in a shaky breath, and let it out with another bitter laugh that sounded more like sorrow than anything else.
“There it is again,” he grumbled, shaking his head. “You apologizing like you broke something when it’s me who’s stomping around all over the place.” His hands gripped his knees until his knuckles were white, as if that was enough to keep him grounded.
“You don’t upset me, Tyr. You never upset me. It’s not you. It’s--... it’s everything else. And then I come here and I’m too worked up, too overwhelmed, and I dump everything on you like you’re supposed to hold and keep water in your hands.”
He pushed himself up again, and this time he rose to his feet, the restless energy making him need to pace a few short steps before he spun back around, his eyes sharp and wet.
“Don’t tell me you don’t know why I’d think I’d lose you. Everyone I’ve ever--” His voice cracked again and he had to stop. He pressed his lips together until he could breathe again. “Everyone I’ve ever cared about, Tyr, they’re gone. And now you’re here-- sitting right here-- and it feels like if I close my eyes for too long, the universe is going to take you back just to spite me.”
How could he have ever imagined Tyr would still be alive? He knew there were others who’d survived but… Tyr wasn’t built to survive things like this. Definitely not Earth. He remembered his first few days in the cold, rummaging through garbage just to eat. He didn’t want to imagine the horrors his brother must have faced.
“So yeah… I’m a storm,” he said quietly, but his voice was rough and low and desperate. “And you--... you just sit there like you’re a damn stone wall that I can crash against. I don’t want that from you. I want my brother. I don’t care if you argue or shout or tell me I’m wrong or say that I need to suck it up and give people a chance. Throw something at me for all I care, just--... don’t fold up and vanish on me. Please. Don’t let me make you smaller than you are.”
Quinn scrubbed a hand through his hair, tugging at the strands until his scalp stung. His throat ached and voice raw. His head hurt from the crying. And he was still afraid that he was going to ruin everything.
“You think you’re making it worse? Tyr, you’re the only thing making it better. You’re the only thing that’s ever made it better.” Now, and in their past. He stopped pacing and froze in place. “I can lose everything else again, but not you. Don’t let me,” he said quietly, like it was dangerous to admit. And in many ways it was. It was too vulnerable, too honest, too full of fear and hope and the perfect opportunity to completely break him.
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Posted: Tue Sep 16, 2025 5:48 pm
“It doesn’t seem like I’m making anything better,” Tyr noted.
It was the closest he’d get to arguing anything. Even then his voice was too soft to count for much in the way of quarrelling—more point of fact than argument. He didn’t want to argue with Quinn. What would the point be? What would it solve? What good would it do either of them? Tyr felt no need to convince Quinn of anything. If Quinn wanted to distrust Eld, he could distrust Eld. If Rhiannon’s company wouldn’t bring him any sort of solace, he needn’t force himself to endure it. Quinn had his reasons. Who was Tyr to belittle them?
Tyr didn’t understand why apologizing was wrong. Not in this instance. He felt remorse, so he thought he should express it. His intention hadn’t been to upset Quinn, or to make himself small. If he felt small it was only due to his confusion. Had he missed something? Had he read Quinn wrong? Had he forgotten how to exist around his brother?
“I don’t mind if you stomp around,” Tyr said. “You’re not hurting anyone. You won’t hurt me. What am I supposed to argue? Why should I shout? You don’t have to give anyone a chance if you don’t want to. I’d never tell you to trust someone who hasn’t earned it from you.”
It hurt to see Quinn upset. Tyr wasn’t sure what to do about it. Nothing he said seemed to help. He lowered his gaze and twiddled his fingers so his hands wouldn’t shake in his lap. The shirt he wore was overlage—one of Eld’s, and light enough that the summer heat wasn’t quite so unbearable. Short sleeves exposed his arms, which were still thin and brittle looking. He hadn’t put on much weight since waking from stasis. A few fading scars marred his left hand and forearm.
“I’m tired,” Tyr confessed. “I’ve been tired for a long time. I don’t have the energy to argue with you when there’s nothing worth arguing about. Please, let’s just sit. We don’t have to talk about painful things anymore. Not right now.”
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Posted: Tue Sep 16, 2025 5:48 pm
Quinn swallowed down a dozen half-formed words. They burned his throat and threatened to come out with a sharpness not meant for Tyr, but would likely harm him all the same. For once, he didn’t let them. He just stood there, staring at Tyr as the restless energy seeped as tension in his shoulders.
“You think there’s nothing worth arguing about,” he grumbled, his voice raw. “But you’re sitting there, talking as if you don’t matter enough to even be angry. That’s worth it to me.”
He knew his brother. Tyr didn’t have to say he didn’t feel like he was worth the effort for Quinn to know. It made him incredibly sad. And angry. Knowing that Tyr was okay with suffering.
He glanced down as Tyr shifted, his eyes catching the pale lines along Tyr’s arm. Fading, but not gone. They hit him harder than any whispered apology. He sucked in a breath, as if he could stop the stinging in his eyes by willpower alone. He couldn’t.
“What the hell happened to you?” he rasped out, his voice low and jaw clenched tight, as though he could bite back the rising protectiveness that welled up, desperate and unrelenting. He didn’t accuse anyone, not outright. He didn’t say Eld’s name, although it burned like poison on his tongue. The thought was there, of course. Heavy in the silence that lingered.
Quinn rubbed a hand over his face, feeling worn down and weary, but finally lowered himself back onto the couch beside his brother. The anger didn’t vanish (did it ever?) but it folded in on itself for now, leaving him feeling empty and raw. He leaned back, sinking into the couch, but close enough that his arm brushed Tyr’s. Close enough that if Tyr shifted just an inch, Quinn could rest against him like he wanted to.
“You don’t have to talk about it,” he said, forcing his voice softer this time, although it still carried the sharpness of someone who didn’t know how to stop from bristling at every minor inconvenience. “I just… I don’t want to sit here and pretend I don’t see it. I can’t.”
For a long moment, he didn’t look at Tyr. He stared instead at the floor because it was easier.
“I’m tired too, Tyr. More than I know how to say,” he said quietly, voice still heavy with emotion. “But I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. So if sitting is all we can do… then sit with me. Just… don’t pull away from me.”
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Posted: Tue Sep 16, 2025 5:49 pm
“There’s not much to say about it,” Tyr told him. “When they put me in stasis, I was in some sort of glass structure. Like a coffin. No one was there when I woke up, so I had to break out.”
He traced the pad of one finger down the faint line of a fading scar, from the bottom of his thumb down the side of his forearm. The paling remnants looked worse than the wounds had felt at the time. Tyr remembered the slow trickle of blood, the burning pain of newly torn skin, and the more soothing warmth of energy as it had flowed through him from Valhalla. He remembered how alone he had felt, how lost and confused he’d been, and how those feelings had lessened slowly over time, even if they hadn’t gone away completely.
Eld kept him safe. Rhiannon kept him rooted in the present. Now here was Quinn, one more reminder of a past he no longer had to live—a gift from Fate, maybe; one of the few good things he’d thought he would have to live without, returned to him so suddenly Tyr still struggled to accept that this was real.
He shifted closer so they were pressed together again, side by side.
“Stay with me,” he said, pleading more than he was demanding. “Tonight. There’s a bed upstairs big enough for the both of us.” Eld wouldn’t mind staying somewhere else for the night, though Tyr thought better of mentioning him again. “Maybe tomorrow when we wake up, this will feel less like a dream. We can figure out how to move forward.”
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Posted: Tue Sep 16, 2025 5:49 pm
Quinn froze when Tyr said coffin. The word hit him like a heavy stone dropped into water, the ripples of memory coursing through him. His chest felt tight.
“A box,” he hissed, disguised. He was in a box too. His hand curled into a fist at his side. “Mine ended up underwater. I remember the cold. Ice pressing in. I thought I was going to drown.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face. He wanted to ask who had put Tyr there, but couldn’t manage to get the words to form. Instead, he looked at the pale scars again, anger and grief twisting tightly together. “You shouldn’t have had to crawl out of that alone,” he growled. “Neither of us should’ve…”
When Tyr leaned closer, Quinn didn’t resist. He melted against him, his forehead brushing his brother’s shoulder.
“Alright,” he whispered at last, shaky but certain. “I’ll stay tonight. I don’t want this to… vanish when I close my eyes.”
He settled in closer, new tears damping the fabric of Tyr’s borrowed shirt. “Tomorrow,” he promised, voice muffled and tired. “We’ll figure it out tomorrow. Tonight, I just need my brother.”
Fin!
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