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turidtorkilsdottir · 28 days ago

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All before you, Chapter 2

Songs: Let Down by Dead By Sunrise / Empty by Ray LaMontagne

Pictures by me

Read on AO3 >> Link <<

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Chaos. Shouting. A shot was fired. Corey had never heard a louder sound in his life. And then there was silence. Everyone in the room frozen in their position until Cole started to stagger backwards. He gasped, tried to find hold at the kitchen counter but went down to the floor eventually. Corey rushed to him, tried to help him up again but he was too heavy. Cole looked up at him, his blue eyes widening and his mouth opening and closing as if he was trying to speak. He reached for Corey’s hand while his breathing turned into a rattle and he started to gasp for air. Then his whole body started to shiver, spasm, the grip around Corey’s fingers became so tight that it hurt. Until he suddenly let go. His eyelids fluttered before they stopped moving completely and his head fell to the side. A scream broke through the silence. And another. And another… Cole…

~~~

Corey woke up, heaving for air. He was drenched in sweat and tears, shaking, sick. He quickly rushed out of bed to the bathroom where he just managed to kneel in front of the toilet before his stomach emptied itself. The metallic smell of blood stuck to his nose, although he knew it was only a memory of the night he had just dreamed of. The night where lives had ended. Cole’s, literally. Corey’s, figuratively. It was the beginning of a downward spiral and neverending nightmares.

More tears streamed down his face and a sob broke free from his throat. His body found it's way into the space between toilet and sink where he would spend the rest of the night most likely. Or however long it would take to calm down.

Hands shaking, body trembling… Corey tried to breathe but ended up gasping and coughing in between his cries. He felt so fucking helpless. Alone. Left behind. What was the point of getting up each morning when he always ended up feeling like this…

“You alright?” a hoarse voice sounded and made him twitch.

Shit. He had forgotten that Gabe had spent the evening at his flat and crashed on his couch, like he had done a few times already throughout the last weeks.

How embarrassing. Corey felt ashamed, still shaking and unable to stop the tears from running. Unable to say anything.

“Bad dream?” Gabe asked and squatted down on the floor barely far enough.

Corey nodded and watched how Gabe sat down to lean against the bathroom wall opposite of him.

“Cole?”

With a frown, Corey nodded again.

“You said his name,” Gabe explained.

“Sorry,” Corey mumbled and wiped his face, realising he was only wearing a tank top and quickly wrapping his arms around his waist to hide the scars in the shadow of his bent legs. Wishing he could just disappear.

“I won't ask,” Gabe said and their eyes met. “We all cope with something.”

Corey sighed and let his head fall back against the cold tiles. For some reason he was able to breathe again, even if his heart was still hammering in his chest and the painful memories still tormented his mind.

“Were you there?” Gabe asked carefully and when Corey threw him a questioning look, he added: “When he died.”

Another nod followed and Corey's gaze dropped.

“It was my fault.”

“How?” Gabe furrowed his brows and when he received no answer for a while he added: “Heard he's been shot. You had trouble with a gang?”

Corey kept staring at his own legs. After he took a deep breath he explained: “My mother had. Owed them money. They came to collect debt one day and shit went down. I… was dumb and tried to protect her. Cole pushed me aside and…” he swallowed, “...that fucking bullet was meant for me and he took it. It happened so fast… he was just dead.”

Another sob got stuck in Corey's throat and he hid his eyes behind one hand.

“Fuck…” was all he heard Gabe whisper before the room went silent.

New tears ran down Corey's cheeks and the tugging pain in his chest made him cry out: “I miss him so much and I… I just can't get over it.”

Gabe didn't speak right away. Yet the rustling of his clothing told Corey that he was moving closer to him. And he felt a faint warm presence of another body next to him, but no direct touch.

The words that followed were spoken hesitantly and quiet, but sincere. “I guess I should say something meaningful now, but… uh… I really suck at this. I mean… none of this was your fault, you know that. Some things just happen. It sucks."

In the corner of his eye Corey saw how Gabe picked his nails and chewed on his lips. Long conversations didn't sit well with any of them and he appreciated the effort.

“I…” Gabe began to speak again. “I am here now… I know I can't replace him… never wanted to. He's been twice the man I am, I think.”

With a sniff, Corey looked back up and cleared his throat before he said: “He was incredible, yes. Without me he would've left this shit hole long ago. Wasted his life just to raise me. Forced me to finish school and got me my first job and all. I feel so fucking lost since he's gone.”

“But you've somehow managed those last five years, haven't you? And… I know I'm a fuck-up most of the time and I know fuck all about being a big brother but… I can try? I … want to try.”

The warmth of Gabe's presence slowly nestled inside Corey's chest, embraced his pain and made him feel calmer. He nodded. “Thank you. I'm quite the fuck-up myself, really… I can't even find a damn job.”

Gabe seemed absent minded for a second, then looked up. “I could ask a friend of mine, actually.”

“For what?” Corey asked, a little confused.

“A job,” Gabe explained. “He runs a bar. Not one of those fancy nightclubs, just a bar. You know. Beer and whiskey, normal people, small stage for live music… last time we met he mentioned he's looking for a bar person who knows how to talk to the street rats.”

“Guess I do,” Corey said.

Gabe smiled. “Okay then. I'll give him a call tomorrow if you like?”

Corey sniffed again and felt a smile tugging at his lips as well. “Thank you.”

They both just looked at each other for a moment, until Gabe huffed and got up, reaching out to Corey with a hand. “We got this, Corey. I really think we do.”

~~~~~

'Cause I don't wanna be let down

I don't wanna live that life again

Don't wanna be led down the same old road

Said, I don't wanna be let down

I don't wanna live my lies again

Don't wanna be led down the same old road

~~~~~

A few weeks later

Hesitantly, Corey pulled a key card from his pocket. He wasn't sure if it was ok to use it unannounced. Not for the lack of trying, Gabe hadn't answered his phone for two hours and for some reason Corey had a bad feeling in his guts tonight.

With a sigh he decided to make use of the key and opened the door to Gabe's flat. He called his brother’s name once, twice, but didn't receive an answer. Then he spotted him, lying on the floor. Face down, not moving.

Corey froze where he was standing, petrified, staring. No. Not again. Not him.

A sudden twitch from Gabe’s body made Corey snap out of it and he rushed over to him, kneeling down on the floor.

“Gabe?” he said quickly and grabbed his shoulder to move him to his side.

“Huh? What?” Gabe murmured as he hid his eyes behind one arm to shield them from the headlight.

“Fuck…”, Corey gasped in relieve. “Are you alright? What happened?!”

Gabe struggled to get up into a seating position, but with Corey's help he managed eventually, rubbing his face before he mumbled: “Ugh, nothing. Wanted to go to bed. Didn’t make it apparently…”

Corey furrowed his brows, getting aware of the strong smell of beer coming from the other. A distinctive kind of beer. “Are you on Smash?” he asked.

“Guilty as charged,” Gabe shrugged with a lopsided smile. “Fuck, I’m tired.”

“Get up,” Corey said, feeling his own shoulders drop, his hopes crumble, while he helped his brother to walk over to his bed.

“Why the hell are you so tall anyway,” Gabe slurred as he lurched forward.

“Don’t know,” Corey gave back tonelessly.

“Cole wasn’t much taller than me…”

Corey felt his mood getting sour. “No, he wasn’t.”

Gabe slumped down to his mattress with a chuckle. The hand that had been resting on Corey's shoulder now playfully patted his cheek and he asked: “What’s with that frown, huh?”

Corey flinched and slapped the hand away. “Don’t do that.”

“Ah, right. No touching,” Gabe said mockingly and laid down. “It’s just me. No need to freak out.”

Corey clenched a fist and bit his lip. “Get some sleep,” he grumbled and then withdrew.

He walked up and down the flat for a few minutes only but they felt like an eternity. Legs shaking, hands trembling. The cigarette he was smoking didn't help. Pictures forced themselves in his mind again. Alex. Cole. His mother. All their dead faces. The utter helplessness and loneliness he had to endure each time someone had left him behind in this world. Tears ran down his cheeks and he started to panic. Not again. How many deaths would he have to witness until he would break apart entirely? He couldn't do this. Not alone.

His hands were running on autopilot it seemed when they reached for his phone, swiped, and pressed call.

It rang. And rang. Corey considered hanging up again already. What was he even thinking? But then…

“What?” Vincent answered the call.

Corey wasn't able to say anything, still debating to just hang up again and deal with this on his own.

“Corey, you alright?” Vincent asked and the hint of concern in his voice made Corey sob quietly.

“I, um, no…” he whimpered and started to walk around again.

“What’s wrong?” “It’s Gabe, he…” Corey began but interrupted himself, “...ugh, fuck. Sorry it’s late.”

“Don’t worry, I’m up.” Vincent said and his steady voice was reassuring. “What’s with Gabe?”

“I just… I found him. He’d passed out.”

“Is he ok?”

“I think so, yeah.”

“But you're having flashbacks.”

Once again it was a statement, not a question. Like so many times before Vincent seemed to understand Corey’s mind better than he did himself.

Corey sniffed and nodded. When he realised that Vincent wasn't able to see him, he said: “Y-yeah.”

“Sit down somewhere. Breathe. Or do that counting thing,” Vincent told him. “Want me to come over?”

Corey breathed in and out deeply. Once. Twice. Three times.

“No, I… I think I’m fine,” he finally said and sat down.

“You sure?”

“Yeh. Thank you. And sorry. I didn’t want to-”

“No worries. Told you you can always call,” Vincent cut him off. “I meant it.”

“Thank you,” Corey said and leaned back, taking some more deep breaths. It helped.

“Do the counting thing,” Vincent said, more quiet now.

“I will.”

“Good. And Corey?”

“Hm?”

“He’s survived many years like this, don’t forget that. He’s not dumb. He won’t just die like that.”

Corey sighed. “He hasn’t been on Smash for so long now… I thought he got this.”

“Addiction is a sucker. Give him time.”

“It’s just… it's hard to watch.”

“But he’s trying.”

“Yes.”

“Think you’re a good motivation.”

“Maybe,” Corey huffed. “I hope.”

“Count. Try to calm down. And if it doesn’t work, call me again.”

“Okay.”

“Good night, Corey.”

“Good night. And thanks.”

“Anytime.”

Corey threw another look at Gabe’s back which rose and fell lightly under his breaths. A soft snore told him that he was sound asleep and Corey figured it might be a good idea to try and get some rest himself. He slid down on the couch, one arm below his head, staring at the ceiling. Five things you can see…

A few hours later Corey was pulled from a light sleep when he heard Gabe moan and swear. He quickly got up and walked over, squatting down next to the bed.

“Hey, you alright?” he asked carefully.

Gabe twitched and looked at him in utter confusion, while he rubbed his forehead. “Ugh, fuck. What are you doing here?”

“We were supposed to meet tonight,” Corey explained.

“Shit. I forgot,” Gabe mumbled as he sat up and reached for a half-emptied bottle of water on his nightstand. “Anyway, why are you here?”

“You didn't show up. Didn't answer your phone… I was worried.”

Gabe took a few big sips from the bottle, before he asked: “How did you get in?”

“You gave me a key,” Corey reminded him with furrowed brows.

“Right…” Gabe nodded but he sounded cold when he continued: “Doesn't mean you can just show up whenever you want.”

“Just wanted to check on you…”

“Didn't ask you to.”

The words felt like a punch and Corey stood up with an annoyed sigh. “You're not yourself right now.”

“I am, Corey,” Gabe said harshly. “Hate to disappoint you but this is exactly who I am.”

Their eyes met briefly but Gabe couldn’t stand the gaze for long. “Oh fucks sake. Stop lookin’ at me like a sad puppy.”

Corey swallowed. “That was unnecessary…”

Gabe shrugged and emptied the water bottle. “Why do you even care?”

“Cuz you're my brother!”

Corey had almost yelled the words and it made Gabe look up again.

“I'm shit at this!”, he blurted out, clearly upset, but calming his voice down when he went on: “Really, ain't the brother you want.”

Corey huffed, surprised at his own bitter tone when he shot back: “Well tough luck, you're the only one I got left!”

Gabe shied away from his gaze once more and sighed. “Go home, Corey. I'm tired.”

With that, he laid back on the bed, turning away from Corey.

The conversation was over.

~~~

There's a lot of things that can kill a man

There's a lot of ways to die

Yes, and some already did and walk beside me

There's a lot of things I don't understand

But so many people lie

It's the hurt I hide that fuels the fire inside me

Will I always feel this way?

So empty, so estranged?

~~~

It wasn't quite morning yet when Gabe woke up again, rolled around in his bed, and suddenly started to cry. Corey watched how his shoulders were trembling under his sobs and he slowly approached the bed. He had been disappointed, angry even, and found himself standing in front of the door twice. But he had returned to the couch both times. Giving up so easily didn't sit well with him. And it wasn’t the first time he’s seen someone coming down from a Smash trip. The hangover was rough. Irritability, restlessness, heavy depressions, suicidal thoughts... Surely Gabe had dealt with all of them by himself dozens of times. And yet Corey hadn't had the heart to leave him alone with it.

“Need anything?” he asked carefully, bracing himself for whatever part of Gabe's hungover personality he was about to meet next.

“Corey…”, Gabe seemed confused again. “You’re still here?”

“Seems so.”

Gabe wiped away some tears, avoiding eye contact, regret written all over his face. “Why… I've been such an ass.”

“Been treated worse than that,” Corey shrugged.

“No, that's… fuck… I don't want you to put up with this. Im such a fucking loser.”

Gabe clearly tried to calm down, but his eyes kept tearing up. He looked desperate, lost. Feelings that Corey could understand all too well.

“Forget it. We're not having this conversation,” Corey said firmly. He was still upset, but managed to keep his voice down when he went on: “You can't come into my life and then hit the road again when it's getting uncomfortable. I see you're trying! And I know this won't be easy. Knew what I signed up for... I was hurt, yes. But we got this, remember?”

“I'm so sorry,” Gabe whispered and a few suppressed sobs escaped his throat.

“I know.”

Corey sat down next to him on the bed, squeezing one of his brother’s hands. It felt uncomfortable, awkward, but still like the right thing to do at this very moment. They stayed like this for a while until Gabe slowly sat up, holding onto Corey’s hand and slightly leaning against his shoulder.

“It's a lot of pressure, actually. Being a big brother,” he said, his voice hoarse and powerless.

“Is that why you didn’t show up last night?”

“Dunno. Maybe. I'll just… I’ll never be like Cole.”

Corey shook his head. “Don't need you to be. You're not him. You're Gabriel.”

Gabe looked at him, a hint of surprise in his exhausted expression. Obviously at a loss for words, he let go of Corey’s hand, reached for his cigarettes and offered Corey the open package as well.

They stared at the wall together in silence for quite some time, inhaling and blowing out smoke. Gabe stopped crying. Corey calmed down with him.

He took one last drag and stubbed out the cigarette before he said: “I think we should move in together.”

Gabe blinked a few times. “What?”

“You heard me. I got some tattoo jobs coming up and with the money I make at the bar… plus what you're making… guess we could rent a two-bed somewhere decent enough.”

“How long you been thinking about that?” Gabe asked, furrowing his brows.

“A while.”

The room went silent once more. But not for long.

“Don't know if that's a good idea,” Gabe said, shaking his head lightly while his eyes were fixed on the floor.

But Corey felt encouraged by his own idea, almost excited, and smiled when he said: “Only one way to find out.”

Gabe turned his head, huffed and managed a faint smile as well. “Yeah… I guess…”

#hurt/comfort #turiwrites #cyberpunk 2077 #cyberpunk oc #ao3 fanfic #brothers

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