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Carter swallows, his recently watering mouth suddenly dry. "You know, I wondered what the first thing you'd say to me would be."
"For what it's worth, so have I."
"Yeah," Carter says lamely. Then he notices the bandage on Maison's forehead and he remembers that as angry as he is with his brother, Maison was raped and tortured very recently. Guilt settles deep in his gut. "Are you okay?"
Maison huffs. "Shouldn't that be my line?"
"I'm not the one with a head wound."
"Today."
Carter frowns. "What?"
"You're not the one with the head wound today." Maison looks down at the drink in his hands. "You suffered one the night of the auction."
Something thick and acidic churns inside Carter. "Were you there?"
Maison’s eyes snap up in surprise. "What? No. Of course not. I got reports any time you were harmed."
"Lovely." Carter shakes his head, not sure if he wants to laugh or cry. "So, not only did you know I was getting raped and humiliated all the time and did nothing about it, you were also getting detailed medical reports that you ignored."
"Carter-"
"I'm curious, Maison. Was there a line for you? A boundary you wouldn't let be crossed? Or were you willing to let me die if it meant preserving the mission?"
"Travis wouldn't have-"
"No, I'm not asking about Travis, I'm asking about you. Obviously when I got sick and needed the IV meds wasn't bad enough for you.”
“The doctor said-”
“Wait, no, sorry for forgetting. It took me becoming suicidal and begging for my own death. That was the line.” Carter huffs. “Though, even then, it took Travis a while to convince you to change your mind, didn’t it? It took a few days for him to tell me the truth after that.”
Maison places his glass on the counter, so slowly and carefully that it makes Carter take a step back in preparation for whatever he’s about to say. He’s known this man all his life, after all. He knows when he’s about to deliver a good blow.
“Travis-” Maison begins, speaking just as slowly and carefully as he had placed the glass down. “-called me within minutes of your suicidal request. It took me less than that to agree with him about telling you.”
“No. It took days for-”
“It took days for Travis to get himself to tell you the truth.” Maison steps forward, resting his hands on the island and staring at Carter with intense, angry eyes. “Probably because he wanted to fuck you a few more times before he lost his power.”
Carter’s body zings like he’s been physically hit.
“He - he wouldn’t do that. Travis wouldn’t do that to me.”
“Don’t you put him on a fucking pedestal.” Maison sneers. “Not when he’s in your bed as we speak. What’d you do, Carter? Did you fuck your rapist? Guess he didn’t have to worry after all.”
Eyes burning with tears, Carter curls his hands into fists and sets Maison with a hateful glare. “Fuck you, Maison. You know what? I’m not worried about you anymore. I hope it fucking hurt when they raped you.”
Now it’s Maison’s turn to look like he’s been physically hit. He even stumbles back, his expression awful. Carter is just about to apologize, fully aware that was too far, when Maison spits, “I hope it fucking hurts when he breaks your heart all over again.”
Carter turns away, no longer interested in this conversation or his brother. He pauses though when Maison calls, "Carter!" figuring maybe his brother is about to apologize. If he does, Carter will too.
“What?” Carter asks, staring at the hallway instead of looking back at him.
Maison doesn’t apologize.
Instead, he asks, “How can you forgive him but not me?”
