The Bonds of Family

CW: Themes of violence, murder, and emotional distress



A deep wheeze shook the man's frame like the gales of a hurricane. His voice trembled as he tried to speak, the volume rising then falling beneath a coughing fit.

"Save your strength, father." Trevor leaned over the grey-haired man with a cup of water but it was waved away.

"I must speak to you... and your brother."

Trevor returned the cup to the nightstand then glanced at the door. Conner had gone to "take care of business," which could be code for just about anything. There was no way to know how long his older sibling would be gone.

"I'll send for him again," he said then called out, "John!"

The man stationed outside the bedroom was one of five bodyguards assigned to the leader of the largest religious sect in the city.

"See if you can find my brother," Trevor told him, "and tell him to hurry."

John cast a glance at the bed then gave a quick nod and left.

"He'll be here soon, father." Trevor's eyes scanned the frail hands that clutched the bed sheets. "Can I get you anything?"

The older man coughed, his frame shaking beneath its force. Trevor cringed.

The illness had come on without warning. They still didn't know what it was. At first, it had seemed like a cold. Then flu-like symptoms set in followed by pneumonia and seizures. Blackouts had started the day before, leaving gaps in more than his father's memory. Whatever this was took all that was healthy and destroyed it. And the whole thing had developed in less than two weeks.

By the time his father had been confined to bed, it was clear that nothing could be done to stop its advance. It would take his life and the empire unless plans were made.

So, Conner had been initiated as the heir to inherit. He had been given the reigns to control not only their father's holdings, but the power he held over the city's officials and spiritual standing. Conner had already begun making decisions--one of the first being to track down the source of this illness.

It would not do their father any good--even if a cure was uncovered--but it might spare others. If what their father had contracted was from one of their rivals then there was a good chance it would surface again. Both Conner and Trevor were in agreement--the source had to be found and destroyed. Which was probably where his brother was now.

"Trevor."

His name sounded weak on his father's lips and he hated whoever had done this to his spiritual guide and role model. Whoever had caused this would pay. Conner and he would see to it. Despite the fact that retaliation was frowned upon in their sect, the perpetrator would be made to regret.

"Trevor?"

"Yes, father."

"I must speak with you."

"I know. We're trying to find Conner."

"Alone."

Trevor glanced across the bed to the doctor and nurse. They watched the man's vitals on the monitor, taking notes and adjusting the settings. Trevor nodded at the door then turned to the man outside the room.

"Be close in case I call."

The man nodded then pulled the door shut after the medical personnel left.

Trevor looked back at the bed. "What is it you need to say?" He placed a hand on top of his father's and gave it a squeeze.

The dark eyes that turned on him were cloudy. Trevor swallowed. He was not a crier--had never been--because their father did not approve of tears. It was a weakness, especially when so many looked to their family for guidance. That was one of the curses to being in such a place of power--image meant so much more than just an outward appearance.

"Trevor." His father's eyes moved to the portrait on the far wall. "In the safe is a box. I need you to get it."

Trevor eyed the portrait of a European street then his father. Both Conner and he had been given the combinations to every safe in the household, but neither had opened any of them. That was a task they had agreed to do together--after their father had passed.

"I should wait for Conner."

The old man shook his head. "This is something for you. If you choose to share it with your brother, that is your choice." A rasping cough made him scrunch inward.

Trevor stood and tired to hold his father upright, but the old man waved him away. "The safe," he said between hacks. "Get the box... from the safe."

Trevor went to the portrait, sliding his fingers up the side until he could feel the latch release. After pulling the frame open and punching in the combination, the box clicked and the handle turned. Inside were folders, computer drives, and a smaller safe. There was also a wooden box large enough to hold a ring.

"Bring me the box," his father said from the bed.

Trevor returned to his stool.

"Open it."

Swallowing whatever uncertainty he felt about doing this without his brother, Trevor popped the lid. Inside was a large gold ring.

"Your birthright."

Trevor's eyes narrowed as he glanced at his father over the open box. The man watched him, his eyes drifting between bleariness and complete clarity. Trevor tipped the ring into his hand then rotated it so he could see its engraved face. A gasp left him. His eyes rose in question.

"Yes," his father said with a nod. "There is much you must know."

"Father," Trevor whispered. He fumbled with the ring, almost afraid to hold it.

On its face was the engraving of two fish. Their backs were pressed together as they faced opposite ends. Both had a split caudal fin and each devoured half of the other's tail. The image was quite different from the one designed for their religious sect that portrayed the head of a lion with a whole bird in its mouth.

"This is..."

"Yes," his father confirmed, "and by right of birth it's yours."

Trevor returned the ring to the box and stared at the old man. The ring and emblem belonged to their rival. They were the ones in direct conflict with their family's spiritual standing as guides and most likely were behind their father's condition. "I don't understand."

"I have done great wrong," his father said in a low voice, "but I have always done what I felt was best for my family and those I watched over." He coughed into his clenched hands as the monitors alarmed.

Behind them the door opened.

"Get... out," his father said as he continued to gasp.

"But, sir..."

"Out!"

Trevor waved at the monitors then stood. The doctor moved to the machine and pressed a few buttons. The beeping stopped, but as he turned to go his gaze caught Trevor's. Time was short.

Trevor gave a quick nod, adjusting the pillows behind the old man. As the door closed, his father touched his arm.

"You are my son," he said in a soft but sure voice. "But you are also the son of our rival."

Trevor sat back on his stool.

"You had another brother once: Carlton. He was my first born, my heir to be. He was ambitious and full of dreams." A coughing whistle caused his father to pause. Trevor offered more water without success.

"Carlton wanted to unite our two sects, to find common ground and a reason to stop competing. But the Dividers would not listen. Garrett, their leader, my long-term rival, issued an invitation to discuss matters. But there was nothing he wanted to discuss." His father's exhale was heavy. "He sent Carlton's body back with their emblem burned into his chest."

Trevor swallowed the lump in his throat. The clash of their sects had always been fierce, their competition for souls great... but this? A sick feeling rose in his stomach as his father continued.

"In those days I was younger, more passionate like your brother, and I too succumbed to the same rage as Garrett." His gaze cleared as he pushed himself up on an elbow. "I knew it was wrong. It goes against everything we believe, but what Garrett had done..." His gaze fell to the the sheets. "I lead a team into Garrett's palace on the night of a celebration and killed him at his desk. I stripped him of his signet ring then took what was most precious to him. I took you."

Trevor felt his mouth dry and his lips part.

"I took you to raise as my own. I had hoped that would bring a stop to the Dividers' control and influence... and it did for a time... but he had a brother and a wife that picked up where he left off. This," he gestured at himself, "is their doing."

With a pinched brow, Trevor watched his father sink into the bed. The older man closed his eyes, his mouth open as he drew in a ragged breath.

"I know I have done wrong. It may be too much at this point. I should've told you sooner, but..." He shook his head then wheezed. "I'm sorry, but I'm not the man you thought I was." He blinked at Trevor. "I am condemned by my own actions but you can be better. You could..."

His eyes rolled beneath his lids as he began to shake.

"Father?" Trevor was on his feet. "Help! Somebody help!"

The door flew open and the two men from outside piled in with the doctor and nurse. They swarmed the bed as Trevor backed away. In his hand was the signet ring. It bore an image he had come to despise--even hate. Such emotions were not sanctioned by their sect and yet his father--the man he had believed was his father--had embraced them. That man had killed and stolen. He had taken a child and never told him where he had come from and whose blood he carried. Conner was not his brother nor the man upon the bed his father. But they were all he had ever known.

Trevor's back hit the wall. He could barely hear the alarm of the monitor. He had been raised to believe the other sect was wrong in what they did and yet his father--this man--had been no different.

In a daze, he gazed at the ring. It felt too heavy to hold, too full of lies. He was living a lie. Yet never had he suspected that he was not a full-blooded Consumer, born into the ruling class. Never had he dared to think this was not his home.

"Trevor."

Someone nudged his arm.

"Trevor!"

His fingers closed around the ring as he looked up into Conner's face.

"Are you okay? What's happened? Is he?"

"I don't know." Trevor's eyes drifted to the bed. The monitor beeped a steady but weak rhythm, yet the old man's eyes were closed, his cheeks paler than before.

Conner moved to the bed and touched the limp fingers. "Father?"

No response.

"Will he wake again?" Conner asked the doctor. "Or have I come too late?" 

The doctor gave him grim expression. "There's no way to know."

Conner pulled his heavy coat off and handed it to an attendant. He waved for everyone but Trevor to leave then sat on the vacated stool. The golden chain of his new office hung against his chest. "Did he say anything while I was gone?"

Trevor palmed the ring. Did Conner know? Did anyone else know? What did any of this even mean? Was he to be some sort of savior that united the two sects?

A snort shot from Trevor's nose as a bitter edge turned down his lips. The division between the sects was too deep for something like this to change their relationship. Such knowledge would only make him a pawn to be controlled or gotten rid of. So, why had the old man told him? Why not take the knowledge to his grave?

Shame? Guilt? There were probably other reason that lead to his confession, but could be no miraculous comeback. By his own admission the old man had ignored their beliefs and killed someone. Sure it was in response to the death of his son, but he had committed a forbidden crime. Had he disclosed the information just to clear his conscious or had there been another reason?

"Trevor."

Conner's voice cut through the muddled mess as the door to the room closed. They were alone with their father--or who he had thought was his father. His eyes shifted to Conner. His brother was watching him, trying to gauge... something.

"What did he tell you?"

Trevor clenched his fist then crossed to where Conner sat. "What do you know about this?" He dropped the ring into his brother's hand.

Conner rotated it between his fingers then sighed. "He told you."

"You knew?" The accusation in his tone was pronounced. Trevor crossed his arms as he stared at the young man poised to take over their--no, his--father's realm. "How long have you known?"

Conner handed the ring back. "He just told me, not long before I left. I went to... I wanted to see if there was a way to contact the Dividers so we could talk."

"And?"

"They're not interested and are expecting retaliation for this."

"So they admitted to it?"

"No." Conner looked at the older man. "But they didn't deny it. We were able to grab one of their operatives on the way out, but I don't think we'll get anything useful from him."

Trevor shook his head. More fighting. There would always be more fighting. "Why did he tell you? I mean, about me."

Conner did not look up as Trevor wandered to the other side of the bed. "Since I was set to take over, he wanted me to know what issues might arise so I could be prepared." He glanced up. "He also told me to split the inheritance with you if you choose to remain a part of this family. He wants you to get half of everything."

"Half... of everything? But I wasn't..."

"I think," Conner said as held up a hand, "he wants you to know that you're still his son and as such deserve an equal share."

"So it's a bribe to stay and not switch sides."

"I don't think that was his intent." Conner lowered his hand. "I genuinely think he sees you as his son... just as I see you as my brother."

Trevor sat on the bed and stared at the unconscious form. Even just looking at the man made the word father come to mind. "Then why tell me? Why not keep it a secret?" He ran his thumb over the ring's emblem. "The only reason to tell me would be to create doubt."

"Or to unburden himself. He's facing the end, Trevor. It's a regret he's carried for years. I'm sure there's apart of him that wants to be forgiven."

"Well, I don't think I'm really the one he needs to ask forgiveness from."

"But you are one of them. Whether or not your life here or there would've been better, you weren't given the choice. I'm sure that's partly why he told you."

Trevor shook his head. "I don't know what to think. I don't even know how to respond. The person I thought was my father actually killed my father. And then I was raised to believe in a system that contradicts the very one I was born into. How do I approach something like that?"

"I don't know."

"Well that's not helpful." He stared at the pulsing line on the monitor.

"Do you feel that he treated you differently?"

Trevor squeezed the ring then looked at Conner. "No." He could say that with confidence. "I've never thought of you as anything other than my family. And I can't remember ever feeling out of place. I just don't know what to make of all his teachings when he did what he did. What would happen if anyone else found out?"

"I don't know," Conner said as he tapped the chain he wore. "I don't think it would take long for things to radically change." He sighed, clearly trying to shoulder the responsibility that grew with each minute. "I guess I just have to remember that we all make mistakes. We all have regrets. Maybe what makes the difference is how we move forward from such things." He pressed his lips together.

"Just know," he said after a pause, "that whatever you choose, I'll support you. If you want to leave, you're free to go, no hard feelings. If you feel you need to share what you know... then I won't stop you. You'll still be my brother either way."

Trevor studied him from across the bed, watching as Conner's eyes moved to the old man. Even if he wanted to make a clean break he would never be able to do so. Just as the old man had been a father to him so Conner had become his brother. That bond of family--the spending of time together and knowing each other so well you could guess what they would say--was so much stronger than whose blood matched whose.

This was what family was, and this was his family. These were his people. Despite the older man's betrayal and hidden secrets, if he could grant his father the forgiveness that would give him peace then he would do it in a heartbeat. But that was not his battle. His battle would be to not let the past or biological connections make him into something he was not. This old man had been his father, this younger man his brother, and for that he would forever be their family.