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the album

The album had been waiting outside the door, like she’d said. It was a photo album of sorts, and he’d picked it up, leafing through it before stepping back inside. It was full of pictures of people who looked like America, full-faced and smiling and eventually he found her too, tiny and freckled and precious. At first he didn’t understand why she’d left him with her family photo album, and he’d told Ian as much as he sat on the bed, continuing to look through it.

Page after page of family gatherings and reunions, with all the usual suspects, until, his fingers nearly turning past it, something had jumped out at him.

It was a younger version of his father, he knew from the photos they’d had lining their halls at home and from the way his stern face seemed out of place amid everyone else – and it was a face he knew well.

It couldn’t be, was his first thought. No way, impossible. Maybe it was just a guy that looked like his dad. But in the next photo there was a picnic table laden with food, and there was his mom, and there was a tiny little America leaning over a basket of buns. He turned the page, and there were more photos, photos of this kids all running around and his heart lurched because there was his sister tugging a blonde little boy behind her, America ahead of them in the distance.

“Geeze,” he’d whispered, and called Ian over to see. He didn’t remember anything, and there hadn’t been any other pictures, just those few, that one event. He had no idea what it meant, was it just coincidence? “Look, I’m pretty sure that’s me.”

But he was sure that was his sister; he’d know Abby anywhere, in a heartbeat. He pointed them out to Ian anyway and made a mental note to harass America as soon as she’d gotten back.

your turn

“Tell me about your siblings,” Shiloh said, though it was more question than a demand. “I’ve already met Alistaire, they can’t all be that bad, right?”

He’d cracked a grin and shuffled closer to Ian on the bed.

“What about any old embarrassing photos? Should I go ask him?”

the album


"I like you pink haired," said Ian truthfully, as he glanced sideways at Shiloh. "I mean, I'm sure you could pull off the blonde again and look really hot, but I like the pink. It's just...it's very familiar to me, it's what I think of when anyone says the word pink."

sibling awareness day


"Two older sisters," said Ian, lifting a hand and counting on his fingers as he named them. "Nadia was twenty-nine when I left to come to Deus, and Michelle was thirty-one. Both of them got married to rich white husbands and I'm sure are living a very happy life surrounded by fancy jewelry and all the margaritas they want. Alistaire was the middle child, he's turning twenty-seven next year, and then there's me, who's twenty-five."

Ian frowned slightly in thought, tapping a finger against his chin. "We were all born pretty close together, so, you know, we saw each other a lot more than we all wanted to."

the album

When he’d first came to the island, his pink hair had been turning blonde, strands of it threading through were the dye had grown out. But now with leave time and other people on the island who dyed their hair with the same products, he had no trouble keeping it pink all the time, and had even added some blue for fun.

“Really? I’m… I’m glad you like it,” he said, twirling a strand of it shyly. “I started dying it to piss off my parents, and then I ended up liking it and, well, I’m glad you like it, ‘cause I like it too. Blonde is too boring.”

He smiled, reaching over to tug on Ian’s hair, still short but it was growing longer every day. “What about you, ever think of dying your hair any crazy colours, tall, dark and handsome?”

your turn

“Alistaire, the good one?” he wrinkled his nose. “I could see that, I guess, too good for his own good. Poor guy needs to let loose and live a little.”

He smiled, setting the album on the nightstand beside the bed and rolling across the sheets to curl himself around Ian.

“Pity, I was wondering if you always had such a cute butt.”

the album


"I like my cotton candy haired boyfriend," said Ian affectionately, leaning to peck a kiss to Shiloh's temple. "Keep it that way, it looks great on you, and it's definitely better than just plain old blonde. And boy do I ever understand the whole pissing off parents thing, that's why I kept getting inked up, it ticked them off."

He raised his eyebrows a little, and said with a smile, "I dyed my hair maroon once while in university, but it didn't last. Other than that, nope, it's pretty much the same as it's always been."

sibling awareness day


"I'm the baby," said Ian, grinning as he elbowed Shiloh back. "Unfortunately that also meant I got a lot more responsibility than I wanted."

He tapped a finger absently against his wrist and said, "Well, it's not that we didn't get along, really, it's more like...we were all strangers living in the same house together; or just like, you know, acquaintances who happened to be related, instead of brothers and sisters. There was that distance between us."

Ian seemed lost in thought for a moment, and then gave a little shrug. "But, well, it's all water under the bridge now, I have a new family, and I'm glad of that."