As Gavin and John Walked to the car, a deliberate, almost tentative pace was taken. Despite the urgency of the situation, both felt that, if rushed it was a situation that could easily spiral. They could lose themselves in this.
Gavin opened the car door with the same careful consideration inhaling deeply before swinging himself into the passenger seat in one fluid motion. The slowness of it all relaxed him, as his father, with similar movements settled into the drivers seat, easing the engine on and pulling into the empty, wind tunnel of a street. The patter of rain on the screen seemed like fantasy in this new world he had became a definitive part of. Almost too normal to belong there, right in front of him. He let his mind wander, to anyplace it could.
As though he had led it himself, his thoughts led to his older brother. Calum’s face laughing and bright. They way it change as his father told him what he was expected to do, Gavin peering through a small window looking down on the basement, where his father had thought no one would see. His brother had been outraged. His stomach had turned and his father had stared at the mess he left on the floor. Not a man’s reaction. He had almost heard his father think. Some son I have. It had been at this point that his father had grabbed Calum, screaming about duty, and blood. Blood that MUST be spilled. Calum had let his face go blank. This blankness had seemed strange to Gavin, he wondered why Calum wasn’t glad. Neither brother had received must attention from their father growing up and, to Gavin’s younger mind, this seemed like an opportunity. One that he would have ran at. The jealousy he felt that night had been a main factor in ruining the future of his relationship with Calum. What his brother had done next however, had frightened Gavin, so that his jealousy seemed almost behind him. Calum had spat at his father then turned away and left the room. A week later he had left, despite his mother’s cries.
His last word’s had half humbled Gavin half mystified him. Calum had turned to his father from the bottom of the long drive, his face an image of pity. ‘I looked up to you. But we are not the same. I am no monster.’