“Right well you are tall and you can bawl pretty big, man,” Emre snarked. He reached for more water, drinking it in the comfort of knowing Iyaz wouldn’t stop him. But Iyaz could still get his end in, and Emre barked in laughing protest. “Oi! Watch it! Ten minutes minimum, mate.”
But of course while Emre could take the mick out of Iyaz, he immediately rushed to reassure when Iyaz self-deprecated. “You’re not a numpty, it’s all just well uncommon innit. We all fuck up.”
Fire is hungry and it loves to be fed. There was something both poetic and ominous about that, which Emre quietly admired his brother for observing. “Cauterize a vein? Are you serious? You could do things like that with your fire? Flipping hell, man. That’s brilliant, you clever little sod.”
He laughed meanly and fraternally though when Iyaz rushed to do damage control on his bonfire. Got far less funny when the fire leapt to some dry brush near Emre though. “Yaz! Careful, alright!” Emre unnecessarily chided him, as if Iyaz wasn’t already fixing things.
And once there was no danger, Emre slid into the sand, and pat the ground next to him. “Come here,” he lightly ordered, confident Iyaz would eventually comply. “Right. We can chat until one of us falls asleep. We’ll take turns… take shifts watching, alright?”
Emre was quiet for a long time though, despite his mention of ‘chat’. He looked over at Iyaz, knowing they should talk about their alive mother, living in America. But Emre still couldn’t bring himself to bring it up like this. It would cheapen her, make it all feel artificial and unnatural to talk about Urmilla like this.
Instead, Emre looked over at Iyaz tentatively. “Yaz…you know when I was overseas - over in Afghanistan - I reckon I was only about 25, yeah? I had this mate, this friend. A - a translator from the Pakistani army we was stationed with on the border. He was a good man, innit. I knew him for a few months, proper mate of mine but he, erm He was killed. Bombing in the night. Night just like this, it’s what reminded me, erm. Big fire, everything so bloody dry…” Emre studied his hands like they were new to him.
“He were killed while we was in the same dugout together, so bomb hit me too. It’s how I got the thing in my ear, and my fucked-up shoulder and that. Anyway, we was keeping watch, was was just like this. Only - only he wasn’t like. It weren’t like he was a brother to me, right. No one replaces you, no one. But I told him loads about you, he understood, right. He had little siblings of his own. We was mates, he was my best mate over there, man. Erm. He…I mean…we. We was close innit. He was a good man, Yaz. He…I mean, we.” Emre looked up at Iyaz, flame flickering in his dark eyes. “Yaz, bruv I never told you about that.”
They were naturals at this, the two of them. Some siblings had a awkward air, or found it difficult to get back to that comfortable set after the smallest hint of trouble but the Akbar brother’s bond was formed in crucible after crucible. What was a little magical misery thrown in to throw them off their game.
“The cleverest! And don’t you forget it.” He felt guilty lying like this. “It’s practice that makes perfect. Innit.” Slightly guilty, not enough to stop. The point was he was unable to cauterize anything smaller than a limb really. Big was easy, small was fine work was impossible for his novice skill. It was trying to do that fine work, over and over, that he got good enough for the limbs. But he’d let Emre think he was that amazing for a little while longer. It wouldn’t do any harm now. When he started sending people his way to burn off warts or for micro-surgeries then Iyaz would explain how he was more likely to immolate them than anything else.
“Yeah alright.” The guilt ment he came when called. No fuss or fight when Emre ordered him about, which would likely mean Emre suspected something was up with Iyaz being so eager about it but Iyaz didn’t worry about that. “At least shift over so you don’t dry up and burn into a charred husk of yourself.” Iyaz found the his place beside his brother. Firelight bathing them both.
The silence that followed made his joke feel in poorer taste than he meant. Or maybe it was the shadows cast on Emre’s face as his older brother really seemed to mull over what he was going to say next. It was the seriousness of the expression that kept Iyaz from spouting off when Emre began his talk. Just nodding enough so Emre could tell it was getting through. He watched Emre, jaw moving, eyes cast into the fire and this past scene. Parts of his life Iyaz had not had access to.
“You never said anything about him, Em.” Iyaz looked at his hands before bringing his eyes up to search his brother's face. The side of his head he didn’t favor because of that ear thing, the shoulder. “I’m glad you had someone there. Not as good as me of course but, if you had to be somewhere terrible I’m at least glad the company wasn’t shit.” It was sad softly, with a smile after it because that was the kind of thing Iyaz did to be gentle and charming even on Emre. Emre was the easiest to charm though; it’s where he cut his teeth at it. Knowing his brother as well as he did Iyaz knew there was still something Emre wasn’t saying just yet.
He was letting Iyaz know it though, in every way except words. “It’s not fair that he died, Em. I’m sorry that happened.” Iyaz nodded at Emre and turned his face back to the fire. The reflection of flame bright spots in the dark of their eyes. “What was his name? Your translator mate?”
