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Epsilon

nomoreillusions in rvb_het

Dysfunctional

TITLE: Dysfunctional
PAIRING: ... er... North/South
RATING: It's a toss-up.  R for subject matter, PG for actual content.
WARNINGS: allusions to, but no direct description of, non-con/incest.

SUMMARY:
  It takes a special kind of dysfunctional to be willing to kill your own blood. Nothing happens in a vacuum.  Who knows what she was put through before she finally fought back...

Author's Note: I originally made this a request, but it was one of her squicks so she declined.  But I couldn't get the idea out of my head.  I've always felt there had to be some irreconcilable gulf between them so deep that the only way out was to do what she did...


I thought it would be hard to watch him die; to hear him scream, see him fall. I thought I might stop it at the very last second, that I'd chicken out. It wasn't until it was over...

"South? You with me? South!"

"What?"

"I need you to concentrate, South; okay? I know he was your brother."

"Right... sorry."

And when it was, I hadn't expected to feel such overwhelming relief.

Freedom.

I always thought being a twin was a curse. It's like we weren't even considered two people, and you never seemed to understand I wasn't just a part of you. Something to do with as you liked.

Our parents named us the same, dressed us the same, put us in the same bed. Did they really think it wouldn't happened? Or did they just not want to admit it to themselves, admit that it was their fault...


"I have to take care of your brother, now, South. You... might not want to watch this part."

"Can I have a few minutes alone with him first?"

"You can have one minute."

So why was I always made to feel like it was mine?

How could you treat me like I was the broken one?

Of course... because you were the golden boy. You were the one who could do no wrong. You were perfect.

And I... was always second. Was always the problem child. Was always the one with the 'attitude problem'.

I wish I could have seen your face at the end; I wish I could have finally seen the fear in
your eyes instead.

Well, you can't hurt me any more.

Rest in peace, brother. Now you're the one who's fucked.


"Time's up. I'm sorry."

That's okay, Wash. I'm done.

It's over.

Comments

Still got chills. Damn, this is a powerful little fic.
Thank you.
How can this be so short and yet so full of yes?
... I think the "short" helps in this case...
It absolutely does. You said what needed to be said in such a short, quiet, subtle way that it takes a few re-readings for it to fully hit you, straight in the heart.

And when it does...damn.

Poor South. That killing him was her only way out...and she seems to treat it as a way out for everything else, too. Learned behavior, maybe, with Wash?
Yeah.. maybe. :(

When you can't even trust your own family, who *can* you trust?