wash away your {sins} // Semper

Tiberius’s goodbye still weighs heavily on your mind. Of all the people you thought would understand, he’d be the one, but here again I was wrong. He was furious (and that’s an understatement) and it hurt to be yelled at by him. But you deserved after all that you put him through: he welcomed you into his home, offered a safe recovery, and you threw it all away with a single action – two, actually. First the incident with Klaus and then the fiasco with the pistol; the two actions you promised him you wouldn’t do and yet you automatically resorted to them as soon as you felt even the slightest bit weakened. At least I didn’t turn back to drugs.

Your eyes slowly carry their gaze to the machines beside you, watching the green line continuously draw across the screen and peak, tracking your heart rate. The endless beeping sound is absolutely mind numbing and so you focus, willing the sound to bump out the image of Tiberius being mad at you.

The trance works until a door slam brings you quickly out of it. Startled, you turn your head, all the color draining from your face as soon as you see the hulking figure shove a chair up underneath the door handle to prevent anyone from entering. The beeping beside you increases in frequency as Jamarion wastes no time in striding up to you; he reaches forward and you turn your head away, eyes shut tightly and bracing yourself, but you still let out a sharp yelp when you feel something being torn from your arm. Your hand clamps down on the afflicted area at once and when your eyes open again you see your brother towering over you, IV chord in his hand and clear liquid slowly dripping from the needle’s end.

Unlike the eerily quiet tone Tiberius had used, Jamarion screeches. His eyes have a lethal glint to them that forces you to look away from him, taking his verbal abuse like a kicked puppy. Every phrase spitting from his mouth contained the words you really did not want to hear: how, why. You can hear the faint pleadings of a nurse behind the heavy wooden door but she’s silenced by a glass object shattering and the noise makes you jump, immediately tensing and bracing for pain that never comes.

Jamarion knocks harshly against the table beside you, demanding that he be answered. Tiberius had said the same thing, too, but you couldn’t pacify him with any answer. No matter how many times you told him you were sorry he refused, and you know that nothing can douse Jamarion’s rage. No amount of words, begging, bargaining, repenting, nothing.

”What the hell do you want me to say?” You shoot back, immediately regretting the icy tone in your voice since you figure it will only provoke him further. ”I’m sorry, alright? I’m sorry. But sorry won’t cover it, though, will it? If you had somehow found out about the incident and I hadn’t told you, you’d demand that I tell you what happened since it’s so… so wrong and since it affects you directly, I figured you’d want to know.” You pause, lowering your voice back to the raw truth. ”I wasn’t trying to ruin your life. I don’t know why I did it, but I did and I regret it. I shouldn’t have put that in the note but you have the right to know about it.”

You look down at your arm, gingerly massaging the very sore area where the needle had been torn out, smearing around the little beads of blood that were blossoming. ”I won’t even go into what’s wrong with me.”

If the emotion of anger ever had an embodiment, it would be Jamarion. That boy was always overflowing with rage at something, no matter how insignificant. He would snarl at Marina for her “childish” behaviors, force Klaus into doing his homework for him, and get onto Lyana and Tacara for things. Hopper never enjoyed being yelled at by his taller brother, especially when the venomous words were coupled with swinging fists and sharp kicks. It was almost as if Jamarion were a ticking time bomb, simply waiting for some little spark to ignite his fuse so he could explode.

Hopper kept his gaze down, fingers still gingerly massaging the sore area on his arm. He always disliked how his brother would hold onto the smallest mistake and blow it out of proportion but I’ve been known to do that too.

The ill boy braced himself for what was to come. Jamarion’s voice hissed through his teeth as he explained how Hopper was ”a selfish fucking moron.” Hopper didn’t argue about it, either; everything his brother said was true in one way or another. He did disappear without a warning (though I will not tell him about that episode), he did just shoot himself after hardly being back for more than a month, and he was just moping around more. But that’s what depression does to you: it’s like rocks tied to your limbs and makes you sink even though you’re trying to swim, and people tell you to just get over yourself when you say that you can’t keep your head above water.

One thing he said did irk Hopper, however: ”You scared everyone and you don’t even care.” He tightened his jaw, looking off away from Jamarion and instead focusing on the monitor that tracked his heart rate. I didn’t scare everyone. Only you and Tiberius have visited me and both of you certainly didn’t seem very thankful that I was even still alive. Thinking that, though, only made him feel as if he was only reinforcing being a “selfish bitch.”

Jamrion suddenly reached forward and yanked Hopper closer; Hopper tensed, gaze swinging around and eyes wide with fright at the close proximity. He could nearly see flames behind those dark eyes of his brother’s and he felt fear creeping into his very core. Whenever the wildfire-like anger raged within the tall boy, Hopper knew he was in trouble. Today was no different: he visibly flinched when Jamarion mentioned Sephera – might as well consider myself dead already – and he would never put it past her to claw his face over anything no matter how close of friends she said they were.

After being shoved away he hesitated, biting his lip before muttering a response. ”Okay, well, do what you really came here to do. I know you didn’t just come to talk.”