Somewhere, maybe, there was another world in which Graham hadn’t grown up resenting the rest of them for the freedom he hadn’t been given. There was another world in which Griffin’s every childhood wish had been granted; four happy siblings, two loving parents, a family that didn’t take every chance offered to tear each other down.
That wasn’t this world, however, and try as he might, Gerard could feel nothing but apathy for his youngest brother and his ego ( one that was far too large for someone like Griffin, who had really done nothing to deserve it, save for looking down at others from the imaginary step stool he seemed to carry around everywhere ).
If he hadn’t known any better, or if he’d been around a group of people he wasn’t related to, Gerard may actually have believed himself capable to have a good time. Genevieve’s sarcasm, not unlike Kieran’s at times, should have brought a smile to his face. And Griffin’s embarrassment was a prize in and of itself, as evidenced by his brother’s bad throw and the flimsy excuse that followed. Elicited of all people by the Major General himself, it seemed that his siblings, for once, were openly battling each other.
“Pathetic,” Gerard commented as he stepped up to the counter again, ready for his next throw. “Maybe Genevieve should teach you how to better your aim, Griffin. You could use the practice.”
There was something repulsive about Gerard’s response. Genevieve hated those sort of comments; barbed, but utterly lacking in subtlety. The best insults leave the insulted unaware of the slight until much later. But Gerard always had lacked finesse, hadn’t he?
It hardly mattered to her, in any case, that Griffin’s aim was less than perfect. Clearly he hadn’t attained the rank he had for nothing; if he didn’t want to market his skills to the rest of them, good for him. At least this way, nobody saw how powerful he could be until it was too late: everybody knew what Gerard could do, so they would more easily be able to defend themselves against him.
She was about to make a comment to that effect, when she remembered that Graham was there, and she didn’t want him to mistake her words for trying to build any bridges. And then, she wondered why she cared what he thought. And then she was frustrated, because he shouldn’t dictate what she wanted to say, one way or the other.
“DON’T drag me into your squabble,” she said at length, curt and distant. “And people that live in glass houses oughtn’t throw stones. Graham and Griffin have both found success in the army; they’re both many things, pathetic isn’t one of them.” Curse Gerard, for making her speak so kindly of her brothers.
Graham watched intently as Griffin took aim, knowing how this would end, but curious to see if he could pull something out of his sleeve at the last minute. He didn’t, however, and the knife landed much farther from the bullseye than it had for the other three. He kept any witty retorts to Griffin’s excuse at bay, knowing that wouldn’t warm him to the other stoneskin any faster. He’d done enough damage by indulging himself and putting his little brother in the spotlight. “Take your time,” he said, face expressionless and tone all business.
Genevieve’s compliment—though said only to insult Gerard—left him stunned. His back instinctively straightened because of it as he waited for something else to be said that would sting far worse to make up for it. He was also aware that the many other things they were was probably a list as long as her apartment was wide. But for now, he tried to focus on those words, tried to hold onto them while he could still hear them bouncing around his head.
Daring glances at the three of them, he thought about what the four of them might be like in battle. Under current circumstances, he knew they’d be terrible, their lack of communication causing them to flounder on the battlefield as they all fought however they wanted. Take that out of the equation though, pretend that they could work as a unit for any length of time and…the image he had was quite deadly.
It only made their distance leave a far more bitter taste in his mouth. He tried to push it out of his mind, tried to focus on the bullseye instead of what seemed impossible to fix. But his heart pounded, his palms were sweaty, and frankly, he just wanted to escape. As best he could, he lined up the shot and threw the dart. It was closer to the bullseye than Griffin’s, but not by much. He took a deep, imperceptible breath in. He would not let his siblings find a weak spot to crack wide open. He would not let them see him as anything other than unshakeable.
He knew that Gerard was going to make some sort of remark against him. The two had been making obvious jabs at each other since Griffin had returned.
What Genieveve had said had caught him by surprise. It made a smile appear across his face. His own sister standing up for him? Even Graham’s comment caught him by surprise. Graham was being...understanding? But Griffin was more than ready to defend himself before she jumped it and did it for him. Or rather them. Her comment had caused him to stare silently at Gerard as he was waiting for Gerard to practically pounce on the three of them.
“She’s right.” He blurted out. “You have no right to call me that.” He replied as he looked at Gerard. He watched as Graham threw another knife and did a bit better than him. He nodded at his oldest brother, trying to indicate that it was a good throw. “You’re no better than us, especially with that fallen title of yours.” He added as he threw another knife. This time a little better but not by much. Perhaps due to the fact that he was imagining someone was his target.
