As We Know It
Chapter 11It was somewhere between the end of night and the beginning or morning, and Taylor was considering ways of killing his brother. Quiet ways, painful ways, ways in which he was sure that no evidence would ever be found. That last one was his personal favorite.
It wasn't an entirely new concept to him - this was already a game he had invented for himself to pass the time when he had been much younger. When Isaac had been old enough to get the hell out of the way before he got stuck with babysitting duties, and Taylor had been too young to be able to justly refuse. Needless to say, he got a lot of practice at this game, and had developed a knack for it over the years.
It had been years, and yet he hadn't lost his creative sadism, as ideas floated over him in his state of half conscious dreaming. He rolled over in his bed, cursing quietly to himself as the low knock on the door turned into a much louder, frantic sounding rapping. He knew it was Zac, he had no doubts. It had become something of a trademark of Zac's over the years, any time he announced his presence somewhere, as though there was still a store of childish energy trapped inside of him, looking for ways to escape. Taylor looked at the clock on the night stand, which read 4:45 am. Taylor's head throbbed as he sat up in bed.
He was legitimately going to kill his brother.
He dragged himself out of the bed and trudged over to the door. Just as Zac had started to rap on the door again, Taylor pulled it open.
"Do you have any idea what time it is?" he asked, groggy and irritated.
"Not really," Zac said, his jittery, nervous energy a strong indication that he'd gone through enough caffeine to power a whole Starbucks. "I haven't actually gone to sleep yet, I've been working on something and I really need to-"
"You really need to chill out and get your ass back home and into bed," Taylor scowled, feeling vaguely reminded of the kind of thing he used to say when he needed to babysit.
"I can't sleep right now, it's just all in my head and I need someone to practice on."
"You need someone to practice on? Zac, I really think you need to get some sleep, because you've obviously lost your grasp on the English language."
"No, I mean..." Zac started, but then seemed to think better of it.
"Whatever it is, it can wait until tomorrow. Or, you know, later today. Take your pick."
"I don't want to let her down," Zac said quietly, an Taylor looked at him, surprised by the comment.
"Wait, her? When did this happen? Who are you talking about?"
"Lilly," Zac said, without hesitation. Taylor blinked at him in confusion.
"You mean the new tour manager? Come on, I mean, she seemed all right and all, but it's not like you're..." Taylor paused, realization washing over him. He had seen that stupid, hopeless look before - in fact, he had gotten used to seeing it regularly ever since Isaac had started dating.
"You don't seriously... not with her, right?"
Zac didn't seem to have heard what he was saying, and began to pace the room, visibly restless and frustrated.
"Everything is depending on this going the right way," he muttered, and Taylor could tell that it was no longer aimed towards him - Zac looked distant, lost, and worried.
"Everything is going to be fine, ok? Just relax about it right now, go back home and get some sleep."
"Stop telling me that and listen to me!" Zac snapped, his tone of voice changing instantly. It wasn't that he had shouted, or even raised his voice by much; there was simply a sense of complete control and command that came through. It wasn't a statement that Zac was making; it was an order. It was so strong and so sudden that Taylor took a step back, startled. Against his chest, he could feel a sharp pain, burning at him - the chain around his neck was red hot. For a fleeting instant, he wanted to listen - or less that he wanted to listen, and more that he needed to obey. The feeling was new, strange, and invasive, and Taylor pushed it away with all of his will.
"Zac, what's wrong?" Taylor managed to choke out, fighting the continued feeling of conforming silence that was washing over him. "Is there something going on?"
Zac had seemed far too distracted to take in what Taylor was saying until that moment. His eyes finally focused again, and he shook his head quickly.
"No, I... of course not," Zac said, his mood calming a little, and the urgency fading from his voice. "I'm just getting anxious about the tour starting and all."
Zac looked alarmed at his own behavior as he came back to himself. Taylor didn't say anything, for fear of eliciting another outburst. He watched, with some relief, as Zac walked to the futon only a few feet away, sitting down on it. The color and life was drained from his face, tired and overexerted. The chain had stopped burning him and was cold once again.
"I'm sorry," Zac said softly.
"Don't worry about it," Taylor said. "Why don't you just crash here for now, and you can make it up to me in a few hours when it's actually morning?"
Zac smiled gratefully at that, and stretched his limbs out, curling up on the couch. Taylor shook his head, his arms crossed over his chest, and he walked quietly into his bedroom to grab a pillow and a blanket for him.
When Taylor returned, Zac was already asleep. Taylor carefully propped the pillow up under his head and draped the blanket over him. Taylor felt the exhaustion emanating from Zac's sleeping form, he felt the urge to climb into his own bed and forget any of this had happened.
But he looked at Zac, sleeping on the couch, with sadness. Zac, sleeping and unaware of the world, reminded him of the insufferable brat that he used to watch at home. He was his brother, no matter what.
What he had seen come through in his brother just minutes ago was something else entirely. What he saw in his face was something angry and strong, something that wasn't entirely human. That was the part, looking at Zac now, so quiet and peaceful - so vulnerable - that actually frightened him.
That was the part that he was going to have to kill.
Taylor stood up and headed to his bed again, pushing the sleepy, muddled thoughts around in his head. Maybe when he woke up, things would make sense, things would be a little different. Maybe.