Final Call for Mercy

3

My heart stopped. Except, it wasn't one of those times when it felt like it stopped because of the immense sudden dread I was bound to feel or anything like that.

It stopped like it was taking a breath before going eighty beats a minute and wanting to fly out of my chest. And it did, after that small stop, my heart started beating so fast that it wore me out.

Jonathan was sitting on the living room sofa, frozen in place upon seeing me. I could barely utter a word, the realization that my brother was ten feet away from me slowly sinking in. It rooted me to my spot, had me gaping at him like an idiot.

"Tasia..." He said softly. He, too, looked like he was trying to fully comprehend that here we were, in the same room. We were seeing each other for the first time since Michael died.

His calling of my name is what pulled me back to reality. I felt something in my chest pull and instantly, my eyes brimmed with tears. Happy tears. Tears of hope. Of sadness. Of desperation. Simply, tears.

I broke into a sob, lunging for him. He stood up and wrapped his arms around me, lifting me up. I didn't feel like holding back the tears. I didn't have the mind for that. All I could think was he's here. My brother is here.

I cried into his neck, grabbing onto his clothes in fear of him being taken from me. "I missed you," I cried. "I missed you so so much."

He nodded, laughing a bit. His tears landed on the back of my neck. "Me too," he whispered. "Fuck, me too."

We clung to each other for some time, not really caring to be aware of how long. Of who was watching or the problems that were awaiting. It was just Jonathan and Anastasia for once.

Finally, we sat down. He held my hand as we calmed ourselves down. Things between us weren't stable. He killed his father in revenge for killing his mother, who he killed because of me. It was fucked up. It was sick.

As much as it would do good for me to stay away from whatever reminded me of Michael, I couldn't stay away from my brother. Because even if I was just a pawn for Michael, even if he abused me while the other two kids lived in peace, even if looking at his face reminded me of him, it also reminded me of the times we spent together.

He was my brother. My older brother who had taken care of me and had taught me so many things. He had no idea what his sick father was doing. So, even if it hurts, my love for him and Jessica are much stronger. They overpower the anger and the trauma. Although they are a reminder of the hell I lived for so long, they are also a reminder that not everything about it was bad. That I was not alone. That it wasn't just me.

I wiped my tears away, taking in deep breaths to calm myself down. We had to get to business if we wanted to find Jess. If we wanted to settle this all down.

I caught Nicolas staring at me from the other side of the living room. He looked pained at seeing me. He smiled once his eyes met mine. I smiled back, feeling the knots untying.

I laughed nervously, wiping my eyes one last time. "Fuck, I feel like such a pussy."

Jonathan huffed, "you're telling me? I was holding onto you like a little bitch."

Grinning, I looked at him. "Well, you are one."

He rolled his eyes, taking a deep breath.

"Okay," I turned to everyone else. "We should get down to business. As much as I would love this to be a catch-up event, we have shit to do." I turned back to Jonathan, "you said there was another attack?"

"Uh, y-yeah." He didn't look at me when he spoke. "They, uh, found one of my other warehouses. It's a policy we have. When we get attacked, we gather together at the safe house to make a plan. It was, um...It was lit on fire before I got there."