Chapter Text
Black knew something like this would happen at some point. He had desperately tried to avoid it in the beginning, when he found out what his twin had been up to while he was out cold in a hospital bed. He had stopped when it became clear that White wouldn't listen to him and that he couldn't protect him like he used to when they were children anymore. His little brother (only younger by 6 minutes, but since Black had taken his role as White's protector while he was young and constantly bullied, Black considered White to be his little brother, ok?) was now a grown man perfectly capable of making his own decisions and defending himself. He could fight! Black saw that after he woke up and cornered White in his apartment. He was so proud that White could stand up to him then.
And he was smart and brave, but also stupid. Mostly stupidly courageous, though, it took balls to do what White did, join his gang to avenge those who hurt him. His brother was lucky that his friends were not the ones who put him in a coma though, because if they were, things would have gone terribly wrong. White knew that, yet took the risk for him. Black almost wanted to cry when he thought about it sometimes. Mostly because White still cared about him to do something as insanely dangerous as that, even though they hadn't seen each other in ten years and he knew nothing about what Black's life had become.
White had done so well in his place, accomplished things Black couldn't even dream of before, all because his little brother was smart and calculated and not fueled by rage like him. White was so good that Black almost decided to leave the gang since he felt like it wasn't really his place anymore, and he would have, if his brother and Gram hadn't dragged him right back in. "Everyone would be happier if I left." Black had pointed out when they talked about it. "I wouldn't." His best friend had replied. Stupid Gram, who was always on his side, no matter what.
It wasn't like Black could stay away from his brother for too long, anyway. He had just got him back, he needed to spend as much time as possible with his twin. If the month he spent in a coma taught him anything, it was that life could be short, and that you had to treasure every moment, because you never knew when it might all end. Cue to the excruciating pain in his abdomen right now. There was no knife protruding from his stomach, so whatever he was feeling was probably happening to White. A metallic taste filled his mouth. Shit, this was not good. He fell down to his knees, his hands instinctively moving to press down on a wound that wasn't his. Gram was there somewhere, shaking Black, asking him what was wrong. The night wasn't supposed to go like this, Black was supposed to study for his final exams, not crumble to the floor of his best friend's apartment while his brother was out there somewhere, possibly dying.
Would he die as well? Black wondered as his vision started to blur. They never knew how deep their connection ran, but he did feel like he was dying in that moment. Was this how White felt when Black was beaten up into a coma too? He didn't want to think about it. Gram was still screaming, but it was like Black was hearing him from underwater. His ears were ringing and his mind was groggy. Why couldn't he feel anything, shouldn't he be devastated that his brother was dying? Scared of his own possible death? He couldn't feel anything but pain. And darkness. It was reminding him too much of the time he got beaten to a pulp. He couldn't feel anything then either. And his mind travelled to White back then too. Then he had hoped his brother was doing well wherever he was. Right now he just hoped that if White was dying, he would as well. He didn't want to exist in a world where his twin didn't. He was an only child for 6 minutes before White was born and he didn't want to be one again. He didn't think he could survive it.
And Sean wouldn't either, Black thought, then scolded himself. He didn't want to think about Sean in what were possibly the last moments of his life, but he couldn't help it. No matter how often they used to fight, he knew how much White loved Sean and he was starting to feel good about his colleague. He didn't know if that was due to the bond or just the happiness he got from seeing White happy, but it was how he felt. And he knew what Sean had been through, had found out without meaning to one night, while they were all getting pissed drunk. Sean had told him that he didn't think he could live without White then too. What would happen to him now?
And how would the boy who was still talking to Black in what sounded like a foreign language right now feel? They'd been dancing around each other since he woke up from the coma, still too scared to admit anything. Too much was happening, and they didn't have time to deal with their feelings on top of everything else. Their mission came first, always. Now Black wished they had talked. He wanted to get up and open his mouth to speak, but he couldn't, his whole body felt stiff and heavy.
How long had it been like this anyway? Shouldn't they be dead already? Or maybe this was a good sign, maybe his brother was still fighting and someone was taking him to the hospital and they would both be alright. Black hoped that was the case. They still had so much to fight for and accomplish together. And people would miss them. Gram, Sean, Yok, Gumpa, Eugene, maybe even Nuch and Namo. And Yok's cop boyfriend. Would their parents care? Probably not, Black thought bitterly, it was not like his mom gave a fuck that he was in a coma. Maybe she would be sad about White though, their dad too. Had Black made a mistake by allowing White to join them? No. He knew he hadn't and he couldn't keep him away even if he had tried. As the last bit of consciousness he had started to slip away, he could only be proud of his brother and everything they had done. And swear that if he woke up, he would kill whoever did this.