Brotherly Love - Strung Out Chapter 10

[miri1984]

Title: Brotherly Love
Words: 1400
Characters: Carver, Sorcha, Leandra
Summary: Carver has news for the Hawke family and Sorcha is Not Pleased.
Title art by the frankly astonishing pockets 
 

It's a week after the party and things are definitely going ... Slow for us. We met up for a coffee at The Hanged Man the next day - it was quiet and soothing and we chatted about this and that - discovered a mutual love of JRPGs which made me laugh like a loon (his favourite is Final Fantasy Seven - I told him he was a conformist and he flicked coffee foam in my eye) and he promised to try to meet me for lunch during the week...

It's hard, because I've got a big performance coming up (that damned Mahler) and he's got - god, this fantastically huge workload from med - seriously it's insane and involves classes before 9am and trips out to Westmead (why fucking Westmead? Royal Prince Alfred is around the fucking corner!) so really slow is the only way it can go.

It's… nice though. And while it does kind of feel like sitting in a waiting room, it's a comfortable waiting room with lots of trashy, up-to-date, magazines and I'm not actually sick just there for… I don't know a prescription or something.

In the meantime, during this… slow period life goes on. I practice, not as much as I should. I attend classes, I eat, I drink, I sleep and I…

…deal with my brother.

We have a thing, in the Hawke family, of family dinners. Once a week. Mum says it's to make sure I eat properly. It's pretty much the only time I get to see Carver - which is ok. I mean, we get on, as much as most siblings do, actually better than we did, before the ... thing. But we don't talk. So these dinners we have tend to be ones where mum asks one of us a question and then waits for us to answer, before turning to the other sibling and asking them something else. The sibling not involved in the mum exchange of information concentrates on eating whatever delicious concoction mum has created for us until it is our turn to speak again.

If we're feeling particularly friendly or chipper one of us will punctuate the other's information with grunts or eyerolls or the odd snigger (there were a lot of bloody sniggers the night I told mum I'd met Andy - I repaid them with a lot of groans and sneers the night Carver mentioned his army girl).

Tonight, however, it seems we are going to throw the routine out the window. Mum isn't able to get a word in edgewise because it's time for me to shout at my little brother for being an idiot.

"What?"

"I've taken the test - they accepted me. It's hard to get into, Sorcha, and it's an excellent opport..."

"You fall for an army chick so now you're going to become a soldier? Fuck Carver there are two wars going on is this some sort of pathetic attempt to one-up..."

"Fuck you sister - just because I don't ponce around on a stage doesn't make my life choices any less valid..."

"What if they give you active service? Jesus Carver, the allies are busy killing half their soldiers with friendly fire and what do you think mum will do if you…"

"What gives you the right to tell me how mum is going to feel - she's right here you know you could ask before deciding what she thinks…"

"Or you could both just stop bickering for a moment and let me tell you."

Mum's voice is always so mild. It's a trick she learned being a nurse, I think, but it commands attention - and Carver and I both fall silent - a programmed response that I don't think we could repress if we tried.

I swallow the tide of rage that's been building. Mum puts her hands, which are looking older, I realise, flat on the table and looks at us both.

"Carver are you sure about this, sweetheart?"

He nods. "I am, mum," he says.

"You're not just doing it to follow after this girl? It might seem like a good idea because of her but sex is never a good thing to base a life decision on…."

"MUM!" Carver flushes red and I can't stop a smirk.

"I'm serious, darling," Mum says. "This could all be very well up to the point she decides there's someone else who interests her more…"

"It's not just because of Kahrin, mum, I swear it's not… I…." my little brother looks down, his trademark scowl deeper than it usually is. He's really troubled by this and I sit back in my chair, actually… actually listening to him for a change. "I've wanted to do this since Bali I just didn't want to say anything because I knew how you would react…" he glares at me and I can't stop my mouth from dropping open.

"Since…"

He nods. "It's not just fighting, you know. That's not the only thing soldiers do - it's the clean up after things like that, the aid work you know? That's what makes it worthwhile."

I swallow. And then I look at mum, who has a small smile on her face that I remember from when she used to look at dad and my heart clenches with a sudden realisation.

Carver looks like him. Dad's hair was red - like mine - and it always made everyone assume I was the one who looked like him - people just … figured colouring was the most important thing - but Carver has his nose and the same set of the eyes and… god I don't know why I never noticed it before, even his voice is similar and it's only because Carver usually only uses it to complain whereas dad used to joke and poke fun and make sarcastic comments that used to drive Carver nuts…

Something tells me mum has always known it.

"I'm happy for you, Carver," she says. "And I can't say I'm too surprised, although your sister seems to be. Perhaps if you two spent more time talking to each other and less time making jokes and moaning…"

"Bad jokes," he says.

"More whining than moaning," I mutter.

Mum laughs and reaches her hands out over the table. We both take one each, even though I groan internally and Carver does it out loud.

"Whatever you decide to do with your lives I'll always be your mum. Remember that. And I'll probably always love you too."

I laugh, and so does Carver, and it's all right, suddenly, fixed and done and I can't bring myself to hate his decision even though Grandpa Hawke used to say if you've half a mind to join the army that's all you need even though dad had always scoffed at the thought of anyone willingly joining the armed services, even though I can't get the image of Carver in army fatigues out of my head in some sort of weird video game where he's the only one who can save us all…

God help us.

Then it hits me that he will technically be part of an institution that is meant to be protecting us and I can't stop a small giggle. Carver glares at me and the giggle becomes a full-throated laugh.

"Shut up, Sisi," Carver says, but he's smiling when he says it.

"Sorry, bro," I say, the laughter subsiding. "Just… do me a favour and never show me how to field strip a machine gun, or whatever it is you people do that makes you awesome and kick arse?"

"I don't think I'm allowed to," he replies.

"Thank heaven for small mercies."

We eat in silence for a few moments before something else occurs to me. "You know, there's another plus to this I hadn't considered," I say brightly.

"What's that?" Mum asks looking at me over her glass of wine.

"He'll have to cut that stupid hair," I say, and duck as Carver throws a pea at me.