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Growing up, Gavin always suffered some sleep issues.
Their parents noticed quickly. They wouldn’t be able to settle down at night or would wake up randomly and start crying. Collin remembers being up himself a lot and listening to the cries of his little sibling and the shushes of his parents, feeling helpless as he clutched his blanket.
It didn’t really ever get better. Insomnia, the doctors said. But it didn’t feel quite right.
What helped Gavin was sleeping with somebody. The problem was that they never wanted to be with their parents, no.
They wanted to stay with Collin. Because they were young and instead of clinging to their parents like most kids, they stuck to his brother.
Collin took this up with pride. For himself, too, kind of selfishly. It helped him find a purpose and not feel like he’s stuck in the same place. They kind of helped each other, this way.
When Gavin was 6—and Collin 9—the nightmares started.
Gavin started having nightmares every other night that kept them from his sleep this time. Not just restlessness. It pained Collin, that he couldn’t help. The doctors couldn’t figure it out either and just prescribed his medicine and several different specialists.
They got better, slowly. They still had nightmares on occasion but less often. Sleeping with Collin certainly helped as well.
Collin was 13 when he first thought about dying. It scared him.
He remembers not sleeping that night. Gavin was tucked into his side and Collin was clutching at their sweater, trying to make sense why he hurt. He was fine. His life was okay. He was happy.
Why wasn’t he then?
In the end, he curled himself around Gavin and cried into their hair silently, feeling small for the first time since becoming an older brother.
The next morning he told his parents. He knew this wasn’t right, that he shouldn’t and didn’t need to feel this way but he did. They ended up also taking him to a doctor and after a lot of appointments and tests and evaluations they told him what was wrong with him.
Something with depression, he doesn’t remember. Those years were kind of fuzzy.
The doctors put him on medication and it kind of helped, until it didn’t. Then he went on a different one which also made him miserable after a few months.
It wasn’t until the third one that it didn’t backfire.
He still didn’t feel—normal, really. But he wasn’t as sad. Collin didn’t laugh much, never did before, but he thinks he smiles more. Gavin and his parents look less worried. Maybe he’s okay now. If he isn’t, he will be.
When they were 11 and 14 respectively, they got their first console and game.
It was Christmas and they had already opened all their presents (for Collin, new earphones and a book. For Gavin, a new sketchbook). But they had one present left.
Their parents revealed that it was for them both, so they opened it together.
A console.
Collin remembers almost flinging the thing out of joy with the way he grabbed at the air and Gavin squeaking happily. The console came with a controller and a game, The Sims 2.
Turns out, their parents had been saving for it for a while now and wanted them to have something they could do together. That, when they were able to, they could even maybe get another game or controller so the two of them could play at the same time.
Gavin started crying out of joy and ran to their parents to hug them. Collin wasn’t much of a crier but he shook and trembled, clinging desperately to the back of his moms shirt.
Their dad set the whole thing up and the two of them spent the rest of the evening trying out the game and creating different people and houses.
It was the best Christmas ever.
At 15, Collin smoked for the first time. Gavin caught him.
He doesn’t even know why he did it. He was hanging out with his usual group when some of them began to take out small packets. Cigarettes.
Collin had been around cigarettes before. His mom sometimes smoked on the porch before or after work so it wasn’t a taboo thing at their house. Though she always told them to never start smoking.
Of course one of the guys saw Collin staring and offered. Collin hesitated. He shouldn’t. There were several factors why he shouldn’t actually. His mom, his health and his medication. But at that moment, he felt like he would be shunned if he didn’t. Collin didn’t want that. (Most people thought him weird enough anyway.)
So, hesitantly, he took the offered cigarette but tucked it away. It felt too risky at school—though at home wouldn’t be much better. When given weird looks, he just shrugs and mentions offhandedly that he didn’t want a teacher to find out.
Later, when he got home, he felt like he had committed the worst crime possible. Sitting at the dinner table with the cigarette in his pocket, he was nervous to be caught. Gavin gave him a couple of side glances, brows furrowed. Collin just shook his head, silently communicating that he was fine.
It wasn’t until later, after his parents had gone to bed a bit earlier and Gavin was tucked into bed reading a book, that he snuck out on the porch. On the way out he snagged one of his moms lighters which he flicked on as he shuffled against the wall.
Sticking the cigarette between his lips, he ignores the tremble in his hands and shakily exhales, watching his breath fog up in front of him. Collin lights the cigarette on finally, tucking the lighter back into his jacket, and tries to mimic what his mom does to the best of his abilities.
Of course he chokes and coughs. It was to be expected, really. He thumps against his chest while he coughs—what feels like a kidney—out, taking big gulps of air. It isn’t until his heart and lungs have calmed down that he tries again.
This time it goes kind of better. He still coughs but he doesn’t feel like he’s dying with it. He feels himself sag against the wall just a smidge, more calmed down. Collin has to admit, he kind of gets why his mom smokes now.
“What are you doing?”
Collin does NOT almost shriek, fumbling with the cigarette to stop it from dropping as he harshly turns to… his little sibling. Because of course.
“Gavin—dude what the hell. I told you not to sneak so much.” Collin hisses a little, rubbing his eyes now that the adrenaline is leaving him. He sees Gavin squint at the cigarette and he knows, he’s fucked.
“Are you smoking?” Gavin asks, immediately following it up with- “Why are you smoking?”
“Why not.” Collin hums, trying to deflect.
Gavin’s gaze narrows. “You know mom told us not to smoke, like, ever.”
“I know”
“Why are you smoking then? Where did you get it?”
“I dun’know. Some guy at school gave it to me.”
“Col-lin! What if it’s like—drugged?”
“Technically, I am already drugged taking my medication.” Collin retorts and Gavin just sniffs.
They both just stare at each other, an unspoken staring contest. They are able to hold it for a minute to two before Collin blinks with a groan. He decidedly ignores the triumphant grin on Gavin’s lips, no matter how much it warms his heart.
“It’s just—” Collin pauses, biting the inside of his cheek—“Mom’s gotta be smoking because it helps, yeah? And I thought—well maybe it’ll make me feel better too.” He tries to explain, hands motioning to his words.
Gavin stares a little, sniffling again before shuffling closer to Collin. Instinctually, he raises his arm and wraps it around his little sibling.
“You should—should talk to your therapist lady. And mom, maybe.” Gavin mumbles into his side, small shivers wrecking them already as he clutches at Collin.
Collin takes a drag of the cigarette and exhales the smoke with a sigh, rubbing gently at Gavin’s shoulder. “Yeah, yeah I probably should.”
Collin’s 17 the last time he goes to church, though he doesn’t know.
Their parents raised them christian, though not too strongly. They would go to church on Sundays sometimes and pray at Christmas, Easter and what not but they didn’t uphold the values too strongly. Collin didn’t really take to the Christianity stuff, preferring to keep it real but.
Gavin did take to it. Much more than Collin would’ve thought.
It made a little sense in retrospect. Nightmares still plagued Gavin so they would need an outlet and praying and believing wasn’t really harmful to them—unlike Collin’s smoking habit—so he didn’t care that much. Their parents were happy as well.
As long as they didn’t become a bigot, it’s fine, Collin thought with a small snort.
He still joined them for Sunday mass and in prayer because, really, it’s what he knows and is comfortable in.
They were headed to Sunday mass again, all of them huddled into the car as the chill got through. Collin was huddled into his jacket, hands stuffed into his pockets while bobbing his head to the music in his earbuds. Next to him, Gavin was furiously sketching something out in their book, though he didn’t peek. Not his business.
After a short ride they make it to the church and all start to move inside along the crowd. The church was already plenty full with conversations on top of conversations going on. Their parents walked on ahead while Gavin was still nose deep in their book with a pen. Collin had simply hooked his hand through their elbow to pull him along so they didn’t bump into anybody.
Once they sat themselves into one of the many rows, both their parents launched into a conversation with the couple in front of them, though Collin couldn’t remember their names. He leans back and listens to his music, his peace while he waits for the Priest to begin the Session.
Glancing over, he sees Gavin’s brow furrowed as their grip tightens on his pen, a small tremble in their hands. Collin pulls out one of his earbuds and winces at the noise almost immediately, ducking down to Gavin’s height. “You okay?” He asks, nudging their shoulder a little.
Gavin’s grip tightens for a second before loosening, almost on purpose, and they turns to Collin. “Collin do—” They pauses, glancing around again before settling back on Collin, “Do you sometimes feel like you’re uhm. Being watched? Like something is- is looming over you?” They asks quietly, quiet enough so only Collin can hear.
Collin feels his brows furrow. That’s… a weird question. He scratches the back of his neck, huffing a little. “I mean, maybe? I think I have before but that might’ve also been when my meds first knocked me off my rockers…” He trails off at the end and watches as Gavin's shoulders drop.
“Seriously, what’s up?” He stresses again, turning more towards him with an arm on the back of the bench. Gavin shuffles awkwardly, closing their book and tucking it into their lap. “I-I don’t know, Collin.” They whimper a little and Collin sees the small tears prick at the corner of their eyes.
Immediately, Collin grabs his sibling and pulls them into a hug, hooking his head on top of Gavin’s as they hides their face in Collin’s jacket. He sighs a little, rubbing his back comfortingly. “It’s gonna be alright. I’m here with you, yeah? And mom and dad. If it isn’t already now it will be.” He whispers into their hat.
Gavin nods a little and they stay like that until their parents turn to them again, concerned and asking what’s wrong. The half lie rolls off of Collin’s tongue easily, saying that Gavin is just having a bad day and isn’t feeling great.
They let the subject drop and then the Priest calls for their attention.
Out of the corner of his eye, Gavin sends him a thankful smile as they wipes their eyes with their sleeves.