The Brother

He wakes up in the morning with the worst case of the heebie jeebies he's ever felt. Rolling to his side, he brushes a kiss onto his girlfriend's naked shoulder. "Babe, I'll be back. I have to go check something out." The blond lets out a sleepy, mhm as he gives her one last kiss after he's dressed himself, and grabs his keys from the counter top.

He had the most unsettling dream, and it stays with him the entire way out of town. But, before he knows it, he's arrived at his destination. There's a car parked in the driveway- he thinks he's seen it out here before maybe a few years ago. A few people use the drive as a place to park while they walk around.

The planks of the bridge echo as he stomps his way across the bridge, still groggy. The sun isn't up yet, so it's as his brother would say, fuck o'clock. This is probably a stupid thing, but he still can't shake the horrible feeling.

Letting himself in using the spare key, he hollers, "SOUL!"

Wes isn't entirely prepared when a small blond woman comes out of his brother's room brandishing the baseball bat. "Dr. Albarn? What are you- ah." He turns away quickly, having seen entirely too much of his client's legs peeking out of one of his brother's old band t-shirts. "Shit-fuck, sorry. But, um... can I- I need to talk with my brother."

"He's... sleeping," she stammers. Realizing her current situation, she gives an 'oh' of exclamation.

It's at this point that Soul emerges from the bedroom, wearing nothing but low slung sweatpants. "Wes?" he asks, followed by a loud, umpf. "The fuck's going on?"

Wes makes a strangled sound, like a deranged animal choking, looking for all the world like he's seen the dead. Emotional, he crosses the room to strangle Soul in a strong embrace.

"Wes, what the fuck?" Soul asks, attempting to extricate himself from his brother's arms. "Are you okay? Shit- is Liz okay?"

The elder Evans nods his head, devoid of the ability to make words.

"Why are you crying?" Soul asks, awkwardly holding his big brother.

"I-I," Wes tries hard to steady himself. "I had a dream you were d-dead." The words hang in the air. "Fuck, it felt so fucking real. I'm-" There's a strangled sound that could have been laughter. "I'm so embarrassed, but, fuck-" He hangs on the vowel, "-it felt so real…"

"Well…" Soul pats Wes awkwardly. "I'm here. Dude, but seriously, you're going to freak Maka out."

Wes stares at the woman in question, and then regaining some of his dignity, he holds out his hand. "Sorry, I never did introduce myself yesterday. I'm Wes Evans. I see you found him," he says.

Maka stares at Wes, who is staring at Soul who has his hands in his hair. "Sorry, Soul. It's just, I've no idea what happened. I'm sorry I intruded...," Wes says. Turning to Maka, he silently mouths, "thank you," and she nods once.

Then Wes, after insisting they come over for a cook out later that day, leaves.

After a very pregnant pause, Soul scoops up Maka into his arms. "You know what the best part of being alive is, right now?" he asks. With her legs wrapped around him tightly, blush burning brightly behind her freckles, Maka shakes her head. "This," he says, kissing her softly.

"I love you," she says to him as he carries her back to bed.