Wes Evans who's in college when his baby brother leaves. He doesn't get to say goodbye. He doesn't really understand where he is or why he's there.
Soul just gets to leave, it works like that? He's just gone?
Wes who calls the school to check in on his brother and gets the legal speel about privacy protections.
Wes who keeps an eye on the school and it's website. Wes who doesn't catch a glimpse of his brother for almost a year. Until the class pictures come out. The ones that show each partnership.
And he doesn't really know what that means. Just that there's some little blonde girl standing next to his brother. His brother who has a new name.
Wes who tries to internet stalk his brother's new partner but the damn girl has no social media.
Wes who has to wait another fuckin semester before he can catch a glimpse of his brother again. Finding out that he's top of his class....kinda. His partnership is top of his class. And Wes doesn't really know what that means.
But he does see Soul. Really see him for the first time in a long time. See the way that he's slouched. Back relaxed, if deeply mistrusting of the photographer. But not curled into himself like he had been before. And not ramrod straight either.
Soul looks- good actually. His clothes are terrible and worse they fit badly. His hair is an overgrown mess. And he's not even trying to look good for the camera. But his eyes are brighter than they used to be. His shoulders are relaxed. He isn't leaning away from the blonde girl. If anything he seems to be tucked slightly behind her elbow. Not leaning in exactly, but close.
He's not alone and he's succeeding. And that has to be enough for Wes.
It's two years later. Wes is out of college. He has a job. A girlfriend. He has his brothers "year book" photos framed. He still doesn't know how to explain it to his girl, so he doesn't.
There's a TV on somewhere, a bar he's having after work drinks at. The local news interrupts. Its one of those cautionary advisories. There's a DWMA mission in the area. The camera pans over the rubble and he shouldn't recognize her feom this angle but he's had that picture of the two of them hung up forever so when Maka Albarn's shoulder comes into view Wes notices.
Wes notices the pigtail and is struck completely still in the middle of this bar, transfixed on the tv as it pans over and Maka's shouder and his brother is there again. Always tucked slightly behind her. Four class photos and that's where Soul always is. Right behind Maka.
And the glimpse is breif. The camera cuts to different footage almost immediately and the bar's too loud for Wes to hear what they're saying. He doesn't know where that is. Doesn't know how current the footage is. Doesn't really know where his brother is.
And he won't. He knows he won't get any information from the school unless something actually does happen to soul. Unless he's killed and they have to notify his next of kin.
Wes who just has to go on.
Finish your night. Go to sleep. Wake up and go to work.
Wonder where his brother is.
It's so background now. Ever present but only really pulling on him in those aweful moments when he can see him just a little clearer.
Soul's latest class photo, with several other kids, all grouped together. A blue haired boy leaning on his shoulder. A different jacket this time, shorter hair.
Another news reel of Maka and the blue haired boy on a bridge. It's aerial footage. Soul must be in the scythe. Wes chews at the inside of his lip as he watches the day old video. Watches Maka thrown almost off the bridge. Watches Soul catch her.
He's never seen his brother move so fast. Never seen him lift so much weight. He looks stronger now. They move together well. Fluidly. He strains for a moment and wes nearly chokes.
Wes has 8 photos of his brother. Only the first two and last one are framed. The others live in a little photo sleeve in his top desk drawer. He looks at the one he keeps on the little catch all by the front door before heads out for look.
The moon turns black that day.
He doesn't really get all the details. The DWMA makes a public statement. Theres some kinda madness spreading. People are being infected. All personel have been dispatched to adress the threat. Someone says the word battle. Someone else says war.
He waited by his phone all day, terrified it would ring.
A month later the DWMA is in deep political negotiations. And they announce the forming of Spartoi, a group of elite qeapon meister partners, survivors of the battle on the moon, and spear head team fighting the continued spread of madness.
And it a brand new school uniform is Soul. Looking older and sadder than Wes has ever seen him. He's still right behind Maka's elbow though this time he's gripping her upper arm loosely.
He's tall now. Lanky. Slouching down over Maka's shoulder like he's prepared to duck behind her or else lunge ahead of her at any moment.
He's been through real combat now.
Wes has known this. Wes had seen Maka on the news engaged in conflict. Wes had seen other DWMA partnerships. He has looked into the school and it's leadership and political ties.
But to be aware that his brother was training in combat is entirely different to know that he'd been fighting on the moon of all places. That he'd continue to be in the lead of some kind of child police force.
And the truth is Wes is a fucking coward. Not because he's scared of his brother dying. Not because he cannot comprehend the idea of children fighting in actual combat.
He's a coward because he's allowed all this time to pass. Justifying it. Thinking about how it would have thrown his career off track if he dropped everything to fly to Nevada. Assuming that Soul would contact him if he wanted to. Telling himself that the political checkpoints needed to enter into the DWMA certainly wouldn't allow Wes in. They wouldn't even answer his questions over the phone.
The real reason he hadn't really tried to get into contact with Soul was that he didn't feel like he was a part of his life. He hadn't ever really felt like he was a part of it. Even way back when Soul was a todler. Just clinging to his grandmother's skirts waving to Wes as he left for school.
His career, his music, his school, his friends, his expectations of the life he was supposed to live always came before Soul. Wes was going to grow up and be someone important and if Soul wanted to he'd pull his shit together and catch up. That's what their father had lead him to beleive.
And Wes hadn't fought it.
His brother ran away because he didn't have a family. He didn't have a brother looking out for him. Maybe if he did he wouldn't have decided to spend his life fighting.
Soul was nothing more than potential that Wes had never stopped waiting to be fulfilled. Just a series of pictures, a peek into the life he was investing in. Wes was waiting to see what Soul would make of himself.
He had made something of himself. One of the most successful people in his field. A hinge in the political climate of the post madness negotiations.
A leader among his peers and on the way to becoming the last death scythe. At least that's the last thing he'd heard from the negotiations with the Witches.
Wes wasn't proud though. He was terrified. And deeply ashamed. And deeply grateful that even after all of these years of sitting on his hands and doing nothing that his brother had survived long enough that Wes might actually get the chance to make that word mean something to them.
That they might actually get to be brothers.
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