Big Bros & Tiny Twins ✔️

Two: The Funeral

DARCY

"Darcy, baby," I hear a tired voice, and a kiss on my forehead, just above the covers. "Time to get up."

I turn over and push my face fully under, "no," I mumble. I want to stay under forever, away from the scary unknown, and stay in the warmth.

His strong hands tug the duvet down and he bends over, cupping my cheek and pushing my knotted curls away from my face. "C'mon, we're going to face this day together," he finds my arms and pulls me up, before wrapping his around me, holding me tight, giving the love and care I so desperately need. 

Tears well up in my eyes again, and I sniff, trying to stop them falling. How am I going to get through today? I've never been to a funeral before. His hands move up and down my back, and he kisses my head.

I pull away and he looks heavily down at me, his shrewd eyes noticing the tears sitting on my eyelashes, and he gently wipes them away tenderly. "Get dressed for me, baby girl," he lands one more kiss on my forehead before getting up and moving into the direction of our door, walking out, and I hear the stairs creak.

Lucy walks back in from our bathroom we share, her eyes red and puffy. She silently looks at me before running over and wrapping her arms around my neck tightly, I hug her back just as tight. 

"How do we get through this, Darce?" She sniffs.

"I don't know," I shake my head and find her hand, putting it in mine. "We have eachother."

I feel her nod against me, "we do," she confirms.

We get dressed, in near silence, side by side, wearing matching black dresses, with a rose headband, roses were my mum's favourites. We somehow find the strength to start facing the nightmare and walk downstairs, hand in hand, the staircase still wide enough for us both.

We walk though the quiet hallway and into the kitchen, where our four brothers are. I notice Tom keeps fixing and readjusting his tie in the mirror. Harry is sat with a bowl of cereal but doesn't seem to be eating. Luke and Leo are stood together, heads down as they mumble to eachother, looking at a stack of papers. Probably the funeral plans.

All four of them look up as we make our way to the island and hop on the stools, next to Harry.

"You two look very sweet," Leo smiles at us, but his smile barely goes past his lips.

"I like the roses," Tom says from behind us. "Good choice," he hugs each of us with unfamiliar gentleness. 

Harry squeezes my hand from under the table, my hand lost in his. 

"What do you want for breakfast?" Luke stands up fully.

I shake my head, how can he ask such a mundane question on a day like this? "I can't."

He raises his eyebrows, "not even fruit or yogurt?" 

"No," I shake my head again. 

"I'm not eating, either," Lucy joins me. 

"Please, just something," Leo almost begs, pushing the fruit bowl towards us.

"Harry's not eating," I mumble, and they both sigh but nod in defeat.

It's so quiet, it's scary, all my brothers look so much older. They look defeated and strained. Luke and Leo didn't even put up a fight to get us to eat. They've had enough, the pain has battled through them and won, making everything else unbearable.

"It's time, isn't it?" Tom says quietly.

"Yeah, we need to make a move," Luke sighs, buttoning his suit. "Twins, have you brushed your teeth?" He looks at us again and we both get up and walk out, somehow making it up the stairs without crumbling.

By the time we slowly walk back down, with hearts heavier than our bodies, all our brothers are gathered in the hall, waiting.

I put my hand in Tom's and we walk outside, and down the gravelled driveway to the cars. The Land Rover flashes, it's been unlocked and I climb into the very back, pleading for Tom to come sit next to me. He nods and wraps his suited arm around my bare one, after we put our seatbelts on. Lucy and Harry climb in after us, and Luke and Leo sit up front, before Leo pulls out of our driveway, as we start our short journey to the church. The church where are parents got married twenty four years ago.

THREE HOURS LATER

We couldn't last the celebration of our parent's life gathering after the funeral. It was too much. Luke felt he had to stay, and somehow drew on even more strength and courage, when the rest of us went home. The guests, family and friends, tried to speak to me and Lucy, but we couldn't speak back. We hid behind our brothers, hating every moment. 

The idea of every one of these guests returning to their families crucified me. I was returning home, officially parentless. Reality set in heavily, unmerciful. 

A Harry Potter movie is playing, as I half watch it unfold, sprawled out on the couch, Harry beside me, playing with my hair absent mindedly. I don't mind, it seems to be giving him some sort of comfort, or distraction, purpose. 

I see Lucy crying silently, evident that all her energy has left her, limp in Tom's arms. The fight has gone, finished, and we're left to suffer with the aftermath.

edited ~18/06/20