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Danthi opens the door to silence. Complete, utter silence. He breathes a sigh of relief. Finally. He’s dead on his feet after a day of work, and he’s ready to at last unwind. However, the tension doesn’t leave his shoulders. Something’s off. Something’s different.
He looks down to see a pair of scuffed boots thrown haphazardly across the doorway. He snatches them up in the pair of hands not carrying grocery bags, and stomps into the next room with a snarl. He puts down the bags and throws open the door, fully prepared to shout at his uninvited houseguest. However, as soon as he catches sight of Breán, he pauses, his words dying in his throat.
Breán is sitting behind his drum set, drumsticks gripped loosely in his hands. He’s staring at the opposite wall in silence, but turns when Danthi enters the room, arms crossed defensively. They both look at each other for a long moment, neither saying anything.
Dan expresses his concern, and Daithi expresses his confusion. Danthi ignores both of them for a moment.
“What are you… doing?” Danthi asks, gruffly, but not loud.
Breán sees the boots in Danthi’s hands and apprehension flashes across his face for a brief moment, before it’s replaced by his typical sneer.
“What does it look like?” He turns towards the wall, foot scuffing the floor.
Danthi pauses for a moment in contemplation. Breán isn’t doing anything. That’s the problem.
The back of his mind is filled with the echoes of wrong wrong WRONG something’s WRONG wrong it’s wrong.
Very helpful, he thinks back, with annoyance.
Danthi sighs. “You’re upset,” he states matter-of-factly.
Breán rolls his eyes. “No, duh.”
Danthi stands there uselessly. Out of all his interactions with Breán, this is the one he’s least equipped for.
“Where’s Kevin?”
Breán shrugs.
Great.
Danthi scratches the back of his head. “Do you want to talk to-” Dan and Daithi, he thinks. Not me, he thinks. The words won’t come out. “Someone,” he finishes lamely. “Do you want me to go?”
Breán puts his feet up on the drum set, and Danthi tries not to wince. It’s Breán’s possessions, he can do what he wants with them.
“See, that’s what I like about you, Danthi. You don’t pretend to like me. You’re very…” He gestures. “Straightforward.”
Danthi crinkles up his face in a mixture of confusion and indignation. “What? I don’t-”
Breán glares at him. “Save it.”
Danthi puts all four hands palms up. “Okay. Let’s just say, for argument’s sake, I hate you. But you think that everyone else hates you, why ?”
“Why wouldn’t they?”
“Why would they?”
They glare at each other, at an impasse for a moment.
Disquiet from the back of his mind. “Are you sure you don’t want to talk to Dan or Daithi?”
“Yes.”
Danthi shrugs, then sighs heavily. He walks behind Breán, then reaches out a hand. Breán involuntarily flinches. Danthi awkwardly pats him on the back.
“I don’t hate you,” Danthi says, as softly as he is capable of. “Actually, I can stand you more than most. Why else would I let you in my apartment?”
“I sneak in,” Breán reminds him.
“And did I change the locks?” Danthi points out. “Did I chuck your drum set out the window?”
“No,” Breán admits.
“I kick you out when I want you gone. If I wanted you to leave, you’d already be on your butt in the hallway.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Breán tries not to smile.
Danthi settles onto the couch, leaning against the armrest. “Now, why do you think everyone else hates you?”
Breán shifts in his seat. “Well, I’m not very nice.”
“Neither am I,” Danthi replies bluntly.
“Yes, but… you’re cool. You’re so… put together.”
Danthi blinks at the unexpected compliment. From Breán, no less.
Breán buries his face in all of his hands. “I feel like fusions are supposed to be better than their components, y’know? Like the combination of two people’s potentials. And then, what, something happened to Seán and Brian before I was even around, and now I’m stuck like this forever?”
“You don’t need to be “better.” You just need to be yourself.” He sees Breán’s expression, and continues. “And that’s not just some motivational crap, I mean it. You’re the only one that can be… you .”
“And if that “me” sucks?”
“That’s up to you, I guess. For the record, I don’t think you’re “stuck.” I think you’re just working out who you are, just like the rest of us. You serve a purpose, and once you find that out for yourself, you’ll be set.”
“If I find it,” Breán mutters.
“ When you find it.”
Breán pauses for a moment, thinking. “Thanks,” he mentions begrudgingly.
“Oh, don’t thank me yet.” He holds up the boots. “How many times have I told you to not leave your shoes lying around where I can trip on them?”
Breán stops. “... Twice…”
“And how many times would that make it now?”
“Three.”
He holds out Breán’s boots. “Well, since you’re having a tough day, I’ll give you a head start. I’d suggest you start running, then.”
Breán snatches the boots and takes off, out the apartment door in an instant.
“Now you can thank me,” Danthi calls after him.
“Thanks!” Breán yells back, without stopping.
Now that he’s sure that he’s alone, Danthi takes out the cookie sheets. He’s going to bake a tray of cookies and eat them, all by himself. Comforting people is hard work, and he deserves it.
He feels a sense of pride coming from inside him, yet separate from himself.
Thanks, guys.