Family

[ticktockgrin]

Dwayne's heart always sank when that phone rang- he knew every time who it might be when he heard that particular ringtone and he never looked forward to those talks.

Aaron only ever called when he wanted something.

"Hey, Big Brother. Been a while, was starting to think that you'd forgotten about me." That oily purr, as though nothing had ever happened between them. Dwayne wasn't sure exactly how he managed it after everything, but then again, Aaron also knew that Dwayne would pick up every time.

Obligations sucked sometimes. The only reason he answered, and even then, it was a struggle with himself-a lifetime of ingrained responsibility and, okay, at least some sentimentality against a deep well of hurt.

Dwayne's baby brother. Four years younger, who just happened to be the one who'd tried to frame him for a diamond heist four years ago. Bitter, petulant Aaron, who'd screwed up a job himself just a year later and landed himself a minimum eight year stretch.

"Things got a little busy here. New job didn't quite work out so well," Dwayne said wearily. And by 'didn't work out so well', he meant 'nearly killed him and several close friends and co-workers', but, well...Aaron wouldn't care about that, so why bother mentioning it?

Dwayne, big and cheerful as an Irish Setter, Aaron blonder and rangier, with a quick, predatory mien that brought to mind, somewhat uneasily, a ranging coyote- sly and opportunistic, savagely so at times. When they were younger, they hadn't been so different, it seemed, but so many years later, Dwayne thought it was hard to believe that they came from the same family. They even took after different sides: Dwayne looked more like their maternal grandfather and Aaron resembled their father.

"Yeah, well, hey, look. I got a favor to ask you. Little something to ease things along in here. Since it's been a while, you know..."

Dwayne closed his eyes for only a second before he cut his brother off. "No, Aaron." It stung, but better not to let him get started. He'd just be wasting both their times, and the longer Aaron went on, the harder it would be to turn him down.

"Shit, Dwayne. You aren't even going to hear me out?" The first edge of anger. Because Aaron was the sort to expect getting his way. Dwayne had certainly given it to him for long enough. "Look, this is a big chance in here, seriously. It's just a few things I need, but I can't get them on my own right now. Thought it'd be the least you could do, all fucking things considered."

"No, the least I could do is block this number completely." Dwayne's big hands flexed, remembering the way his stomach dropped out realizing he was caught in a trap of his own brother's making. Only Aaron had known about where he was, the details of the job, how exactly to put Dwayne's fingerprints on the whole thing. Frank had bailed him out, but it was a wound that still ached five years later.

Dwayne and Aaron had never talked about it. Later, Dwayne had eventually realized that he never needed to ask, because it had all been right there, if he'd only been a little less blind, a little less willing to keep giving Aaron 'just one more chance'.

It had started small. Dwayne had gone into the Army after school, to try and scrape together an education. Aaron had gone after the easy scores, the fast money promised by crime, but had never quite gotten there. And when Dwayne had followed his brother into the underworld, Dwayne...had simply been better at it. Sharper, more adept, more professional. It had been the start of a resentment that had taken years to grow into that vicious bitterness, but he'd seen it. He'd just chosen to believe that somehow, it wasn't that bad, that it could be smoothed over. That his brother would never turn on him like that.

He'd been an idiot, but Aaron was blood. And to this day, Dwayne was sure that if they did talk about it, Aaron's answer would be the same: that it was some kind of twisted self defense. Because nothing was ever Aaron's fault.

"You'd do that, too," Aaron accused. "Just cut me off. Mr. Big Shot and all of a sudden, baby brother doesn't matter so much anymore? What happened to looking out for each other?"

Shit. Not this again, dammit. The venom always came next, once Aaron knew he wasn't going to get his way. "You know that's not true. If you were going to ask for something reasonable, fine, but own up, Aaron. You got in trouble, this is what happens." He rubbed at one eye, feeling the start of a headache knotting itself up back there. There was no double standard. Dwayne had done time, too, and how easy or difficult it is depends on how hard you make it on yourself.

And Aaron, of course, would fight all the way and make it as rough as possible. That was just how he was. Fight every step, and then blame everyone else for how difficult it was. Dwayne could hear him scowling. "It isn't that much, and you've got contacts, man. You can do this." Then came the dirty card. "What would mom say?"

Rare anger boiled up and Dwayne had to take a slow, calming breath. Their mother was exactly why Dwayne wouldn't lay into him, but enough was enough. In the twelve years since she'd died, Dwayne doubted Aaron had even been to her grave, never mind left flowers.

He certainly hadn't been around when she was dying, and Dwayne was the one that covered for him, made excuses to smooth things over and sooth her worries about her trouble-prone younger son. He's fine, just busy. He's started a new job, he's just lost his job, things have been rough, he's overseas. Little lies not for Aaron's sake, but for hers.

Dwayne took in another breath, slow and steady. Frank had been right. He'd done everything he could, and Aaron had made his own choices. "Goodbye, Aaron," he said quietly. There wasn't anything more to talk about. "I'll send your package in a couple of weeks, it's about time for the new quarter to roll around." It was just a token, really, the care packages that the prison allowed every quarter from friends and family for inmates, and Dwayne at least committed to that. Aaron would rave about how a few crossword puzzles, snacks, and toiletries didn't fix anything between them, but it settled something in Dwayne's mind, a tiny gesture that at least made him feel like the better man, after everything.

And before Aaron could launch into his usual rant, Dwayne hung the phone up quietly and put it back in the desk drawer. He had things to do, and people waiting for him.