Brotherly Love {Will}

It was rare for Elijah to be anywhere near hungover, but after going out last night with his brother Will, the ex-Claw was fairly certain he was indeed, hungover. His biggest clue was the fact that his head hurt, and he woke up on a couch that was his brothers. Sitting up groggily, the artist groaned and rubbed at his eyes before stumbling his way into the kitchen to look for a pepper-up-potion to go with his breakfast, if he could stomach one. After a few minutes of blearily looking through his brother’s cabinets with no success, Elijah grunted in frustration, before doing the next most logical thing.

"WILL!" he bellowed obstinately, not particularly caring whether or not his brother might also be hungover at that particular moment – if he had to suffer, so did his brother – particularly considering that it had been Will who got him drunk the night before in the first place. While he listened for signs of life coming from Will’s room, the eldest Dasher testily munched on some biscuits from a tin on the kitchen table. Where was his brother?

Having been partially placated by the biscuit in his hand, Eli made his way to the beginning of the hallway and called out loudly, but softer than his initial summons “Will, if you don’t get your bloody arse up, I will come back there and make this a morning to remember – in the worst way possible.” Threat delivered, Elijah made his way back to the small kitchen, and began poking around for the makings of a greasy breakfast. He’d initially planned on having Will do all the heavy lifting, but his stomach was either going to start consuming itself, or make him sick, so he gave into its demands. 

When Will finally did appear in the kitchen, Elijah was busy buttering their toast, and had set some eggs to scrambling and cooking themselves. Without looking up from his task, Eli greeted his brother “You’re out of eggs.” 

@William Dasher

"Urgh. Dave, get off."

The mumbling was coming from a tall, disgruntled man who was currently having his face licked off by his giant, elderly Irish Wolfhound. Still asleep, he wrinkled his nose and tried to wriggle away, covering his face with a pillow as the dog seemed to think it was a game. His horrible dribbles were now coming thick and fast as he waved his wiry tail and Will just gave up.

The screaming made him sit bolt upright and he instantly regretted it.

"Owww," he moaned, using his hurt bear voice as he massaged his head. Bleary eyed, he wasn't surprised to see Dave sitting next to the bed, tail wagging. "I'm gonna wash you later," he warned the dog. "You smell like a canal." The dog seemed to get the hint and with one final lick of his owner's nose, he scampered off to follow the source of the noise.

Sliding out of bed, Will winced as the cold of the floor met the warm soles of his feet. With effort, he hauled himself up, momentarily lost and groaning again as the sunlight streamed through the open blinds. Flashes of last night came back to him. Dark rooms. The smell of beer and tobacco. Drinking games? Pool. Someone fell over. Tequila. "Ah," he said as he rubbed the side of his face. Tequila; his nemesis.

"For crying out loud, Elijah," Will hissed as he limped down the corridor, wearing a pair of black boxer shorts and a foul expression. "Did you need to shout like Ludo Bagman announcing the world cup?" He complained. His tongue felt furry and his head felt like it was filled up with cotton wool. His eyes were sticky and his head was spinning.

Out of eggs? He cracked one eye open wearily. "Oh sorry," he snapped. "I'd forgotten I was hosting His Majesty this morning," Will went on tersely. "I'm good, thanks," he said, holding up a hand to refuse any proffered food as he sat himself down at the kitchen table, slowly starting to feel human after he'd boiled the kettle.

He couldn't face anything at the moment. He'd pick something up from the bakery down the road when he took Dave for his morning run in the park. He didn't feel up to a run right now but his dog could go Hell for leather if he wanted to do so.

Will had woken up alone which was a good thing. There was no trace of ties with a female. No underwear, no recollection, no nothing. He pinched the bridge of his nose in a vain attempt to ward off the inevitable headache. Rough. He felt rough.

While it was nice to see Elijah, the idea of "going for a pint" seemed like a good one. A quiet night and a chance to catch up. Only, that hadn't happened. They didn't really discuss what they were supposed to do. Elijah had reached out which rang alarm bells clanging in Will's head. As a family, the Dashers were a quiet, refined bunch. None of the kids seemed to reach out for help, at least not after what  their parents had put Arden through. He still harboured ill feelings and only rarely saw his parents twice a year, on Christmas Day and Easter Sunday and whenever they managed to force him to come home.

"There might be mushrooms somewhere, I dunno," came the groggy response which was accompanied with a half-hearted wave. "Coffee?" He asked, totally unsure of what his brother drank now. It had been so long since they'd spent time together.

“I couldn’t find your pepperup” Elijah said evenly as though it explained everything, still focused on finishing on plating their meal “And, don’t shoot the messenger, I’m just letting you know, so you don’t pick at me later.”

Now that their breakfast was almost done, Eli could feel his head returning to its current natural state, which was; filled with cement. Rubbing his face vigorously with his hands, Eli tried to force himself back into a somewhat more coherent state, before giving up and pulling out his wand and muttering a quick charm to keep Will’s waiting food warm on the counter. Once that was done, Elijah closed the distance between himself and the small table before settling down across from his brother, sliding him a cup of coffee as he did so. Before he picked up his fork, Elijah took a moment to study his brother, not in the same sharp way he usually did with strangers, but with a bit of concern. Maybe, he mused, he shouldn’t have yelled so loudly, before attempting to squash the guilty thought to the back of his mind by tucking into his breakfast.

After a few blissful moments of silence and food, Elijah had to ask “What happened last night? I remember losing a bet with you, and whiskey being involved. I might’ve even danced? And, there was that leggy blonde you hit it off with, but after that..” He trailed off with a shrug. Maybe more of his memory would return throughout the day? He hoped so, seeing as Elijah didn’t like not knowing things, especially about himself. Pushing his mostly cleaned plate away from himself, Elijah flopped back in his chair with a soft groan, he didn’t think he could handle much more actual thinking, beyond mustering the energy to pull out his wand once more to Accio them both some Pepperup and more coffee, if Will had any, that was.

Elijah could feel a pair of eyes boring into the side of his face and tried desperately to ignore them. But, Dave was persistent, and Elijah was not accustomed to being hungover, not like this, anyway. In order to make things easier for himself, Eli gave into the hounds silent demands, and flipped him a cold piece of bacon “Dave, mate, I think you’re a great dog, but please sod off.” Animals were usually easier for Eli to deal with than people, but today dealing with his own mind was damn near impossible.

Why had they done this again? Elijah tried to remember. He knew that he’d been the one to ask Will to come out, but the motive behind it had escaped him thus far. Work was fine, his few friends were fine, well, fine enough. Things were a bit awkward with Eloise and Dorian still, months later, but he wasn’t suffering. It dawned on Eli though that he hadn’t told Will about what had happened between him and his roommate, or if he had last night, he had no memory of it.

Just thought of it, the guilt of it, really still made him turn a rather magnificent shade of pink, even now. And being that he was utterly unsure how to handle the news, Elijah simply spit it out and let it hang between he and his brother “I…I kissed Eloise.” He hated to even say it out loud because it made it real, and he hated that it had happened, but Elijah knew he was terrible at handling socially inclined situations and he hoped Will would be able to provide some grounded insight.

"I don't have any," Will replied. His voice was hoarse and his throat felt like he'd swallowed a cactus, not a litre of whiskey. The smell of food turned his stomach and he made a conscious effort not to dry heave at the breakfast table. It hurt, everything hurt. There was a collection of curious bruises down the backs of his arms and they stung when touched and then he remembered; he'd fallen into a bin.

Pitifully, he reached out and pulled the cup towards him and took a tentative sip, recoiling from the heat and the bitter taste as he forced it down. "There was a leggy blonde?" Will asked, one eye open as the effort to open both seemed monumental. "Well that doesn't sound like me," he said, sounding a little bit mystified as he gently chewed on a soft bit of tomato. "Dunno mate," he replied gently and honestly. "If you lost to bet, why do I look and feel worse than you?" He asked Elijah with a wince.

They spent a few minutes in companiable silence as Will tried his hardest not to vom up his carefully prepared breakfast. He vaguely remembered strobing lights and hard liquor and…kissing? He did not remember a leggy blonde and there was definitely just one occupant of his bed this morning.

"Now I know why Arden doesn't come out with us," he offered, mentioning his baby sister. And good, he thought absently. The fact that Arden was no longer a child and was most certainly a woman, he could still be overbearing  but he was always in the shadows and on her peripherals. There wasn't really any point in talking to Sindri. She didn't want him to. While he thought the Trickett was a good man, there was clearly a reason they'd broken up.

"Eloise?"

Will's smooth forehead creased as he tried to place the name. In his gin-soaked brain, making connections seemed to take even longer. He frowned at Elijah briefly as Dave snuffled around the floor, snaffling a crispy bit of abandoned bacon as he went, tail wagging. Watching his brother's face turn a particularly odd shade of puce, Will gasped. "Eloise? Your roommate's girlfriend Eloise?" He blurted out, having a moment of clarity as he briefly shrugged off his hangover. "Friggin' Hell, Elijah. What did you do that for?"