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“You weren’t supposed to do that, Nick. I’m the bigger brother.” I look at my bloody hands which had been covering Nicolas’s wound. I have no idea what is going on around me or if they have Timothy Braydon in custody. All I know is that Nicolas Starling is just like me. He wanted our father’s approval but never got it.
He tries to speak, but I won’t let him. “Reserve your strength, Nick. You’re going to be okay. We’re going to start new traditions as brothers. I got you, Nick. You hear me. You’ll be okay.”
I don’t realize I’m crying, as Clark opens Nick’s suit jacket, and my eyes fall on the large gaping wound in his stomach. “Come on, Nick. Fight for me. I really need a little brother in my life.”
“It’s Nicholas,” he barely gets out.
“Sorry, little bro. That ship has sailed. You’ll always be Nick to me.”
He returns the smallest of smiles, and I squeeze his hand. “We’ll be right behind you, Nick. I got you.”
“Get out of the way.” We’re pushed away from my brother, and it happens so quickly as they attempt to save Nick’s life. Clark’s strong arms pull me out of the way, and my brother is on a stretcher being taken from us.
I don’t want to lose another member of my family. I can’t, not when I just found him. “I got you, Xan. We’ll get through this.” Before I know it we’re in my car, and we arrive at the hospital after they unload him.
“What if I never get to know him as my brother, Clark? I can’t take another loss.”
He pulls for me, in the back seat and holds me. I’m almost too scared to leave the car. Loss surrounds me.
* * *
A week later
“Do you have the new bed put together yet?” Marty asks as she scurries around the house. “And did you find out if he’s allergic to anything?” she asks of me.
“Only mushrooms, raspberries, and penicillin, just like me.”
Marty wasn’t kidding when she said Nick was now her child, too. She meant it. He wasn’t allowed to travel back to New York, and she volunteered or more like demanded that he would convalesce at the farm. And because Marty has enough motherly love for about one hundred people, she loves the idea of adding to the family.
“I don’t know what I would have done if I lost you or Clark. Nicolas really is a hero.” It’s what she said the night at the hospital, and every day since the tragedy that almost took my brother’s life. One inch either way, he would have died. Timothy Braydon is in jail, on many counts, attempted murder being at the top of the list.
Marty has ordered me to stay for several days to get to know the man, my brother who saved me and Clark. But for the first three days, I didn’t leave Nick’s side. And every time I call him Nick, he has now accepted it’s my name for him. Nick suits him better.
Clark is through the door before I know it, and Nick’s color has returned to his face. I’ve found in the last week, he may look like my dad, but his mother, like mine, instilled morals into him.
“Nicolas, honey, come get settled.” And now Marty can mother hen someone else. I follow them into the formal dining room where his bed sits for the time being. He can’t climb the steps.
“How are you feeling little brother?” I ask, and in the past couple days, since he’s been awake, we’ve opened up about our pain, surrounding our father. “I really wished you would have stayed at the hospital longer.” But he has the stubborn Lynol gene and I can’t blame him. It’s why I have a nurse coming out to check on him every day for the next several weeks.
“Mrs. Farmer’s meals are much better than the hospital, anyway, can’t beat this view.” His bed is next to the window overlooking the fields. It really is breath taking. Marty had snuck in a few homecooked meals with us, when we’d visit.
“You just call me Marty, or Ma. None of this Mrs. business. And I found out your favorite meal is meatloaf. I have the best recipe. So, dinner will be in honor of you, the hero of the hour.”
She flits off, and I’m left alone with my brother. “Fuck, Xan, they’re fantastic. It’s so weird, how I never wanted to open my heart to anyone ever again, and yet, you can’t help but fall in love with the Farmers. They just sort of bulldoze their way into your life, in a good way. And what the hell, as lovey dovey as you and Clark are, I can’t believe you two were once mortal enemies.”
We speak for a couple more minutes, but Nick can barely keep his eyes open. I push from the bed, and turn around to Clark, leaning up against the wall, watching us.
“You’re not creepy at all,” I tease, as I take his hand to escape for a little bit because I’ve missed the man. And Marty is right, I could have lost him.
This tragedy is behind us. I know who killed my parents. But in the heartache, I’ve gained a brother. Then there’s Clark. And my day rises and sets because of him.
We begin to walk a trail at the back of the house, leading to a small pond. We’re hand in hand, and every once in a while we stop, enjoying innocent kisses.
“What would you say if I told you I was going to marry you one day, Clarkston Farmer?”
It comes out easily because he’s my forever, and he stops, which means I stop, too.
“You want to marry me one day?”
