Last One Standing (wattys2017) (UNDER CONSTRUCTION)

Midnight Talks With The Devil

When I was younger and had nightmares, Toby had a remedy to helping me get back to sleep. He had laid in bed with me and told me to think of a time and place that brought back peaceful and serene memories.

Lucas had always said warm milk was the best cure. Tossing and turning in my bed, his solution to my insomnia seemed to be the best answer. Kicking my soft, warm comforter off, I sat upright and stared at my feet hanging a few feet above the ground until I was fully awake. The worst feeling was being stuck in the delirium between being asleep and awake. Once I was able to force myself up from my suddenly lumpy and uncomfortable mattress, I stepped out of my room and headed directly for the stairs.

Each step drained the little bit of energy I had. I was relieved when I finally hit the bottom stair, hesitant as I lingered in the foyer. I could hear the quiet sound of chattering from the TV in the living room, meaning that someone was awake and watching it after lights out.

I was too exhausted to call whichever brother it was on the sofa out, and crept in front of the TV to see who it was. "Griffin?"

I hadn't seen a male look so vulnerable in my life. Everything about Griffin's demeanor said he was upset. The ragged breaths that shook his shoulders, the veins lacing through his exhausted and glistening eyes, even the parting of his chapped lips.

"Shit." he croaked, voice hoarse as if he'd been screaming. He quickly swiped at his cheeks and eyes, "What are you doing awake?"

"What are you doing awake?" I shot back, speaking softly. I was afraid one wrong choice of word would send him in a downward spiral.

"Got a phone call." he barely whispered. "You?"

"Couldn't sleep. I have a lot on my mind." I watched his cheeks flush as he nodded in understanding.

"I don't want to hold you up. Just get whatever you need and go back to bed." He said with a warning look.

"Why were you crying?" it left me before I could stop it. I immediately wanted to take it back when I saw his eyelashes flutter. He was trying to hold back tears.

"It doesn't matter. Go to bed, Alex." I only stood in front of him, starting to cross my arms.

"Griffin." this time it was me that had the warning tone. He dropped his face in his hands, pushing his messy hair from his forehead as he stared at me.

"He died." I had to grasp the TV stand in my hand to keep myself from collapsing.

"Griff-"

"I don't want to hear your sympathetic bullshit, Alexis. What is sitting her and apologizing going to do?" I lowered my head, keeping my eyes averted from the emotional shell of Griffin.

My mind fell into a shouting match, two sides raging war against each other. One side wanted to go in the kitchen and get what I came down for, forgetting this happened. The other side was weighing the options of walking over and comforting Griffin, knowing he'd push the sympathy and pity away.

I found my feet leading me in the direction of the couch and the boy seated in the middle of it, "I'm sorry, Griff."

He didn't say anything in return, but allowed his eyes to follow me until I was on the couch beside him. I slid my hands up his bare arm, shaking my head.

"I'm so sorry."

What Griffin did next would forever be imprinted in my memory. He gently shrugged off my hand, outstretched his arms, then pulled me against his hard chest, his face buried in my unruly mess of waves.