Unspoken

At 3am, the lair is pretty quiet, even Mikey is asleep at this time.  I stare down at my little brother as he snores softly on the couch, hugging a comic to his chest. A gentle smile threatens, and since no one else is around, I let it show. Grabbing a ragged blanket off the back of one of the chairs, I toss it on him and turn off the TV. With that light gone, the lair is plunged into a gloomy darkness lit only by Don's screensavers from his little aclove.


But there is another light shining. A faint glow coming from the dojo. I can't stop myself from being drawn to it. I know it's him. We both have occasional bouts of insomnia and some nights are worse than others.


I stop at the doorway, allowing the shadows to conceal me from his immediate view. Regardless, I know that he knows that I'm there. With all the training we've done throughout the years, we can sense each other perfectly, even when blindfolded.


A silent debate rages within me. Should I walk in or turn and go? My feet are frozen to the tatami mat and I can't decide. Instead, I watch the way the candlelight dances over his features. They soften the hardness that lives there in the creases and worry lines etched into a face too young to bear those kind of marks. Even in his calm position, I can see the stress laced through his features that the last few years have brought down on us, on him. The knowledge that a lot of that stress was caused by me shoots a sharp pain straight through my heart. I never mean to hurt him, to cause him stress and frustration, but it's like we're oil and water.


His eyes open, catching me even in my shadows. It takes me a moment to remember how to breathe. The candlelights dance in his dark eyes and for a second I see myself reflected back. I see myself through his eyes, and its not a pretty sight, but...there's no hatred. That kinda stuns me. With all the shit I put him through, all the verbal barbs and cutting insults, I'd expect some level of hate. But all I find is love and acceptance. And a challenge.


Its enough to pull me forward into the room from my bank of shadows. I sit before him, with the candles between us. Its so quiet that I hear every controlled breath he takes. I can't look away from his eyes. They're the same eyes I've seen since we were kids, the same ones I've disregarded time and time again, but right now they're so much more.  There's always been a lot that goes unsaid between us, and if we have anything to say at all, we say it with our fists. That just doesn't translate well into words.


But now, I want those words. I want to tell him I'm sorry for being such a ass all the time, that I really do care even if I'd rather show it than say it, but when I open my mouth nothing comes out. My mouth opens and closes a few times before I snap my jaw shut. I sigh angrily and look away. Suddenly, I feel a cool hand touch mine. Confused, I jerk my head up and the look in his eyes stops me completely. His soft smile says it all.


There's no need for words.


I guess there never was.