How lovely the silence of growing things

[Jack Ripley]

"I love you, too, Brayden. Stupid, crazy. Remember. Don't forget. And I won't give up, okay? Don't forget..."

He felt a swell of horror mounting inside of him, though. Although he'd been quite... cavalier about all this, thinking to himself it wasn't real, that they could see each other in his dreams, that it wasn't the end... It certainly felt like it was. Brayden was gone. His body was still here but it was nothing but a shell in some kind of magical stasis, and only for as long as... He didn't know. There was no expiration date given but he knew it couldn't be much time.

Swallowing hard and blinking back the heat that started to build behind his eyes, Jack held Brayden even after his words faded away, his eyes closed, and it almost felt like... his presence was gone, too. No. Not almost. It was. It wasn't there anymore and he couldn't contain that deep sensation of loss.

Not again. Not again. Not again.

How many times was he going to see this? Live through it? But no, he had to... he had to try and get himself together. Now wasn't the time to succumb to his grief. Brayden believed in him, that he could do this. All Jack could do now was prove him right and do this. Swallowing hard again, he lifted his head and tried to let the warmth on his face slither back to whence it came. It didn't, of course. It ran its course down his face and he quickly swiped a hand over both cheeks.

"Let's get him home safe," he said to Ken without looking at him. "And then we can discuss finding this celestial soul weaver person."

[Kenneth Branagh]

Death was nothing new to Ken but when Brayden's body fell against Jack's, lifeless and still, it brought up a swell of emotion inside that he didn't expect. Even he found it hard to keep a stoic expression. He breathed in deeply and blinked once quite hard.

Brayden was the kind of person whose presence didn't stand out much and yet somehow, he got himself noticed. His quiet assurance had a calming effect on people. Ken found him rather pleasant to be around, if only because he was so different from Niall's nervous energy. Sometimes it was nice to have someone else be the calm one, Ken had to admit, even if he wouldn't have traded Niall for anyone or anything in the entire world.

"Let's get him home," he repeated firmly, making no mention of the tears that slid down Jack's face. Ken was not the type to cry easily either and if he did cry, he preferred for it not to be spoken of. So he moved forward to help Jack gather Brayden up, knowing that while it was possible to reconnect the soul to the body, chances of it were not good. It had to be an extremely skilled or an incredibly powerful one to do it, and if there was one around the place, hunters would have gotten to them first.

But he didn't say that. He didn't say much of anything except when he turned his head to look over his shoulder at Jack's doppelgänger. "Can you help us, please? Keep the door open while we carry him out." Brayden indicated that they needed to keep this one safe, so it seemed that they were all going home together in the car.

[Jack Ripley]

In his heart of hearts, he felt loss more than anything else. It washed over him, crushing him in its wake and it took everything he had to get up, to pick Brayden up with Ken's assistance, and to carefully carry him to the door. Rip, the golem, immediately scurried to do as he was told without a word. He opened the door for them and somberly and silently followed them when they made their way downstairs to the car.

And it was Rip that was bid to open the door to the car, and did so in silence, too. Jack understood the silence. He didn't think any of them were in any mood to talk in that moment.

Once Brayden was carefully laid in the back of the car, Jack moved into the back with him, holding him close, the upper half of his body clutched to his chest, leaving Rip to ride shotgun with Ken.

And still they were silent as the car's engine was turned and purred to life. Nothing felt real, if Jack was honest with himself. Right now, he felt like he was floating in a dream. He knew what it was, logically, from his years of study. Depersonalization. He was coping with his grief by not being there for it, letting himself distance himself from the moment, from the emotion. It wasn't a healthy coping mechanism. Jack had never been good at coping with crises in a healthy way, though.

[Raphael Malai]

"DEAD?" Raphael cried out, aghast, as he stared at the stark lines of text on Prince Niall's phone. He couldn't believe it. It had to be a terrible, terrible joke, right? Right? How could Prince Bee be dead? He was smiling before he left, in such high spirits!

"No! It's not true! Tell me it's not true Prince Niall!"

Ken wouldn't lie, though. He wasn't the type to make horrible jokes like these, either. And he mentioned Keith... Keith who was trying to kill poor Prince Bee long before any of them even learned of his existence, because he had some kind of deep-seated grudge against the man who had 'stolen' Prince Jack from him.

How could anyone love someone like Keith when they had Prince Bee?

Raphael fell onto the couch, distraught and stricken with sorrow and shock. Tears sprang to his eyes unbidden; they fell quicker than he could wipe them away and before long he was sobbing uncontrollably into the armrest. He was inconsolable. He was heart-broken. How could Prince Bee be dead? How?

[Rhys McCabe]

"Who's dead?" Rhys asked flatly, because to be quite honest, Raphael was crying and begging Niall for it not to be true. And Niall was flinging his phone away from him like it was a snake that had just bitten him. And now they were both sobbing uncontrollably and Niall was pacing the living room mumbling all kinds of things to himself about Ken, about how he was always right and he should have listened to him and he burst out with:

"He had a gut feeling and I didn't listen! Because I never listen because I'm so stupid!"

And Rhys, Rhys was still entirely in the dark, except the part where somebody had died. Slowly, Rhys got to his feet and put up his hands, like he saw his father's attendants do when he burst out into rage or they could see that he was about to burst out in rage. (His father really only seemed to feel one thing strongly anymore and that was rage.)

"Who," Rhys asked, because he was not going to make assumptions here, "is dead?"

It sounded like Ken was dead, from Niall's mutterings and ramblings but if he said the word KEN and DEAD in the same sentence--whether it was true or not--he had a feeling he would only be throwing gasoline onto the fire.

"Bee!" Niall said to Rhys with his head cocked and his eyes sad and a tone that both pleaded and said isn't is obvious? To which, no, how was this supposed to be obvious to Rhys? All he knew was that Brayden went out for groceries, and then suddenly, a while later, Ken and Jack were leaving with Super Serious faces. But Ken was always like that and Jack... Well, Rhys didn't know what was happening but he left it to them. Ken at least had a logical head on his shoulders, so whatever it was, it was in good hands.

But apparently not.

"Brayden?" Rhys said, just to make sure. And Niall exploded again.

"WHO ELSE?"

Rhys looked from him to Raphael.

"Are you certain? Maybe somebody just used some hyperbole you didn't understand..."

Niall rushed over to where he'd thrown his phone and he tried to pick it up three times before getting a hold of it and thrusting it into Rhys' face. The words had been typed--damningly--from Ken's phone. Ken didn't use hyperbole.

"Well," Rhys said, because he didn't know what else to say. He suddenly didn't feel safe, either. Raphael and Niall weren't the best protectors. And Keith was on a rampage. He wasn't going to kill Jack so there was no danger there, but who knew about any of the rest of them? They were all just targets to him. Or props, getting in the way. But he'd succeeded, so what would Keith even bother to do next?

And, he realized, he should have seen this coming. He was so wrapped up in his own drama that he hadn't given Keith's quest more than a passing thought. Oh, he'd passed on the information that Keith was after him--straight to Brayden himself--but somehow, he had managed to bungle that up. Rhys couldn't pretend to be an expert on all things Keith but of the bunch of them, he had probably spent the most time with him.

Fuck.

"He'll be after Jack next, then," he said, to which Niall stared at him and then walked away, into the kitchen. And while Rhys sat down next to Raphael, he thought he heard some kind of commotion in the kitchen but he was too busy trying to think of what to do next. None of them were in danger unless they harbored Jack but this was Jack's house. And he would be coming back here.

[Raphael Malai]

"Rhys! Oh Rhys it's so horrible! So horrible!" Raphael sobbed heavily as he turned into Rhys and cried (some more, violently) into his shoulder. He could barely speak for the sobs wracking his body; he felt the pain through every cell and every fiber of his being. The loss was so intense that it overrode all other emotions.

But that was the problem with feeling everything for the first time. Raphael was still a novice to the world of emotions. He felt highs so much higher than others, but the lows... The terrible, soul-wrenching lows of losing someone he loved and admired so much...

He didn't know what Prince Niall was doing but it sounded like someone breaking into a locked cupboard. That made him cry even harder, knowing that even Niall was driven to drink--and he had promised Ken that he wouldn't! He promised and Raphael heard him, and Ken even took the keys with him but that clearly wasn't stopping him.

It just made the horror of losing Brayden even more real.

"I wish it was me!" He would have given up his life for Brayden!

[Rhys McCabe]

Rhys was still very much awkward when it came to Raf's extreme displays of emotion. As of yet, Rhys hadn't yet found his emotions quite so... strongly. It helped that irritation covered for most of them instantly, making anything else easier to cover with sarcastic remarks. What it didn't help was trying to understand how deeply this hurt Raphael.

So he did what he could, by reaching up hesitantly and as gently as he could--barely touching him--rubbing one of Raf's shoulders. He felt stiff and oddly wooden in the moment. Maybe he was just shocked by what he'd learned. Brayden Smith was dead. How did he even deal with that knowledge?

Of course, Rhys did seem to be both backwards and slow when it came to really feeling his emotions.

"Don't say that," Rhys said harshly, not liking what Raf had to say on the matter. "I don't wish it was you. And you shouldn't, either."

[Raphael Malai]

"You-you don't?" Raphael asked tearfully, raising his face from Rhys' shoulder. He knew he must have looked a total mess, with his eyes red and his cheeks damp and probably with his entire face swollen and gross but... Now wasn't really the time to try and look pretty for Rhys.

"I just--he was so young! And he was so nice to all of us and Professor Jack loved him so much and--and--they were talking about babies and having a-a-a dog!"

Raphael burst into fresh tears again. He bought wholesale into that beautiful image of Jack and  Brayden and babies and a dog, something his own love-starved heart craved. (Of course, he dared not even mention it to Rhys because Rhys wasn't really even ready for feelings, much less an entire family!)

Now... that was no more. It felt like his own dreams had been crushed. He had been living through Jack and Brayden all this time... Raphael grasped tightly onto Rhys. It was nice to be held, however loosely; it was nice to be comforted, however inexpertly and awkwardly. At least he still had his lover and he could hold him and cling to him and be with him.

"What--'s gonna hap-happen to Professor J-Jack now?" he sobbed, lifting his head again. "Who-who's gonna ta-ke care of him?"

[Rhys McCabe]

"No!" Rhys couldn't believe he even had to say it. Why would he ever...? But then again, he had treated Raphael pretty cruelly for a long time. He dropped his gaze and softly cleared his throat. It wasn't like he enjoyed this--seeing Raphael fall into pieces. Rhys had been unduly annoyed by how starry-eyed Raphael got over Brayden but come on. That was just... ahem... jealousy. And it definitely didn't mean he wanted the guy dead.

But he sure as hell didn't hope that Raphael took his place.

"...and you're younger," he said, as if that logical line of reasoning would somehow make it better that Brayden was dead. (He knew it didn't. He just didn't know what to say.) And it was only made worse by Raphael crying even harder after he talked about babies and dogs. But the last part... Rhys winced inwardly.

"He's a-- He can take care of himself," Rhys said, but he didn't know. Jack seemed fully capable but that was only because Rhys saw him with Brayden. He heard some things here and there about the Jack before, but some had turned out to be outright lies and others... Like, how he lost a lot of lovers in the past and managed to survive--they didn't seem like things that Raphael wanted to hear right now. Besides, even Rhys had to bow before the idea of soul mates. They weren't just anyone. People died of broken hearts. It was a real thing.

So to make up for his callously spoken words, Rhys gently touched Raphael's wet face.

"I guess... we will. And there's Marge, of course..." And he was going to say Niall but Niall was conspicuously absent even now, so he probably wouldn't be much help to anybody.

[Raphael Malai]

It made him feel much much better to be reassured by Rhys and while he leaned into Rhys' hand, the tears wouldn't stop. It was like his eyes had sprang a leak; he kept wiping away the tears but more kept coming. The depths of his sorrow couldn't be described. He felt the loss and the pain in his soul so acutely, even if Brayden wasn't his soul mate.

"P-poor Professor Jack," Raphael sniffed. He felt a fresh wave of sadness come over him at the thought of poor Jack living out the rest of his life alone without Brayden by his side. It was too cruel to even have to imagine that! He deserved so much better than a lifetime of sadness and loneliness!

"This all K-Keith's fault!" Wiping away the new tears that fell, Raphael glared angrily. "I hope M-Margie gets him back for this!" He never liked creepy Keith anyway! And once Marge found out, he knew that she would set out to find him and destroy him, and Raphael would support her 100%! Even though he would never condone violence, some things just... couldn't be forgiven!

After giving vent to another sniffle, he collapsed back into Rhys but then the lock on the door clicked and Raphael made a strangled noise. He buried his face away into Rhys' shoulder because he didn't want to see them bringing Brayden in... Yet he couldn't help it. He looked, and when he saw Ken shouldering open the door while supporting a seemingly lifeless Brayden, he burst out into another spate of heartbroken sobs.

[Niall Gallagher]

The problem with death was
Niall
couldn't seem to run from it.

Just seeing the word dead was enough to do something to him. Like the world swooped out from under him--not in a good way. Instead of that breathless, weightless feeling he got when he was giddy with Ken or high or happy, it was instead a foreboding feeling, dread pervading every part of him. Sickness. Darkness. It didn't feel good. And it brought Niall right back to

nights when he couldn't sleep
eat
think

Nights when he heard the sound of his little brother's last gurgle of death.
All the accusing eyes on him afterward didn't help, either.

Niall already blamed himself more than anybody else ever would but the way they all looked at him hammered it home, like a stake straight through the heart. It felt like ever since then, he had joined the living dead.

Through a hazy sheen of blurred colors, he opened every cabinet but he knew--he knew where what he was looking for was. He knew because they'd locked it up ever since he showed up, as if he couldn't be trusted. And they were right not to trust him. Niall had a hard time even when it was a good day. Because good days deserved a nice bottle of something-something, didn't they? But the bad days, the bad days...

He felt like an animal in his wild, instinctual need. Nothing could come between him and something to blank out the way his heart sped up rapidly and his throat closed up and his mind started to race, race, race, race, race with thoughts and visions. He was shaking as he punched the cupboard so hard that his knuckles bled and he let out a cry of frustration. Then he was up on his feet and he kicked, once, twice, the fourth time, the cabinet gave way and splintered under his heel and around his ankle.

Pulling his foot out, he dropped down onto his knees. He pulled out the splintered pieces of the cabinet and thrust his hand in for whatever his shaking hand could grasp and without even looking at it, he unscrewed the cap and downed several mouthfuls, swallowing greedily. The tremors going through his body only calmed after a couple more mouthfuls. The heat spread in his belly and the horrible flutter in his chest started to finally calm the fuck down.

Niall curled up there in the kitchen, clutching his bottle between his knees and drinking and squeezing out the ugly tears. And in the other room, he could hear Rhys and Raf. And then the door opening. The soul-sucking feeling was coming back and he took a huge mouthful of alcohol, letting to slop down his front as he staggered to his feet.

Over the counter, he saw them. Ken. Jack. And between them, Brayden, unmoving. Niall felt his stomach turning unpleasantly. Rhys was on his feet, holding onto Raf and leading him away from the couch.

"The... the couch, the couch, right?" Rhys said, and it was so weird to hear him lose his cool because he was usually so cold and biting.

"No," Jack said stiffly. "My room. He'll be safer there."

That didn't make much sense to Niall. If he was dead, there was nothing left to hurt him. But the idea only made him feel worse. And then he blinked as the procession moved down the hall and into the bedroom, leaving an imprint of Jack standing in the doorway, silently closing it behind him with a soft click. Niall squinted at him and leaned heavily against the counter.

"Jack? But didn't I just... didn't you just...?"

[Raphael Malai]

"Oh no no no no," Raphael moaned incoherently as a visibly shaken Rhys had to practically drag him to his feet, to make room for Brayden... for Brayden's... body. He couldn't bear the sight of him hanging limply between Jack and Ken, supported by their arms. And behind them—another Jack. Rip? Raphael didn't know what Rip was doing with them since Rip was Keith's golem but nobody appeared alarmed.

Ken steered the small, sad procession into the bedroom—though not after telling Niall to put the bottle down in the most severe tone that Raphael had heard from him to date. He scrubbed a hand hastily over his eyes and broke free from Rhys to run over to Rip. "Rip! Rip what happened? Why are you here? Is Keith coming, Rip?"

He left it to Rhys to explain to Niall who Rip was, because his mind was so fixated on finding out what, exactly, happened to his poor, dead Prince Bee. Raphael tearfully tugged on his sleeve. "He killed Prince Bee right? Right Rip? Oh poor Prince Bee, he didn't deserve to d-d..." Raphael struggled to get the word out. "Die!"

[Ripper Nightshade]

He didn't want to be here.

He felt cold inside, where once he felt a warmth growing inside of him. It felt like it had been extinguished. In his chest. It felt empty and cold. And it was only growing colder and emptier, the more they had driven in the car. The more he followed after the melancholy procession. The more he stood there in the doorway, feeling not at home, but just the opposite.

Rip drew his arms around himself without even thinking about it, as if to ward off the coldness but it came from inside, not outside. And he might have felt ridiculous in his stupid jacket and fancy eye makeup if he wasn't so withdrawn and so... frozen. Even his thoughts were sluggish. He felt like the questions Raphael threw at him were coming ten minutes too late. Or maybe he was thinking about them too late. Or absorbing them too late.

Somewhere behind Raphael, Rhys was explaining golems to somebody that must have been one of the king's sons as well. The resemblance was striking. And Rhys was taking the bottle the other prince held, with some difficulty, since the other prince did not seem willing to part with it easily.

And then Rip was looking at Raphael again, who was staring up at him with a tear streaked face and grasping onto the sleeve of his gaudy jacket. Rip shook his head slowly and then pulled his hands away from his body to look down at them, where bits of blood and skin were still under his nails from... strangling the life right out of Brayden Smith. Quickly, he wrapped his arms around himself and shook his head again, vehemently this time.

"Don't say that word!" slurred the prince that wasn't Rhys. And Rhys looked at the bottle now in his hands as if contemplating drinking from it.

[Raphael Malai]

All he did was love them and take care of them. All he was guilty of was being the kindest, sweetest, most loving and wonderful and patient person that Raphael had ever had the honor of meeting. Brayden never lost his temper even when Rhys was being outright rude to him, or when Niall talked circles around him, or when Raphael kept bothering him about starting his own teacup collection and asked a million questions about everything under the sun.

He listened to all of them with his gentle smile and kind eyes and he did his very best to make them all feel so welcomed in his home. And for someone who was born a servant like Raphael, who had been treated like a second-class citizen his entire life, to now be spoken to like an equal and treated as an equal by a real prince of the fae was life-changing. Could anyone blame him for hero-worshipping Brayden?

Could any of them really claim that they had never been touched, even in some small way, by Brayden's kindness?

"B-but he..." He turned to look at Niall helplessly. Dead. The word didn't sit well with him and it didn't sit well with Raphael either but...

Rip's refusal to answer his questions said more than words ever could. Raphael stumbled back from him, shaking his head in stunned silence. The horrible look of guilt and pain on Rip's face said it all. Brayden was dead. Keith killed him. It was all confirmed without a single word exchanged between them and Raphael... He didn't know how he could ever come to terms with Brayden's death. How could a world exist in which Brayden was no longer with them?

"No..." he said breathlessly, to stunned to even cry anymore. Raphael collapsed onto the couch in a heap, like he'd lost all of his bones, and laid draped over the arm rest staring off into infinite space.

[Rhys McCabe]

Rhys didn't have it in him to take the drink. It smelled harsh and disgusting and he also didn't want to plant his lips on something his brother just drank from. He eyed Niall with some disgust but kept holding onto the bottle because he was sure if he set it down, Niall would keep drinking. Which didn't seem to matter because Niall was already heading back into the kitchen and reaching into what looked like a broken cabinet to fish out a new bottle.

Letting out a sound of frustration, Rhys set the bottle down on the dining room table and went over to Raphael. There was no way he was going into the bedroom. He never went in there regardless but he had less desire than ever to go in there with a dead body... Swallowing hard, it was difficult to remember that it wasn't just any body, either.

He looked Rip over as he passed him, barely giving him a thought, although he did notice that he was dressed distinctly less Rip-like and more Jack-like. So he had been tricked, was that it? If Keith couldn't get to Brayden by way of Rhys, then he must have used Rip. So the golem served more purpose than it seemed on the outset.

Gingerly, Rhys sat next to Raphael and tried his best to lightly touch his shoulder. Consoling people had not been in his nature, not even when he was young. It never seemed to be a thing that he had to do. Even less so when he lost all of his capabilities regarding emotions.

"Why did they bring you back?" Rhys asked Rip, looking at him as he patted Raphael's arm. It seemed obvious to him that Keith only got to Brayden through Rip, so bringing Rip into their home was pretty much like bringing a bomb in, ready to go off at a moment's notice.

Rip still didn't enter. He stayed right there by the doorway, like he was ready to bolt at a moment's notice. And no wonder. If Keith used him to do the deed, then he probably didn't want to hang around and start killing everyone else. He was a golem but he had always been different; even Rhys could see that.

"Brayden," Rip said haltingly. "Told Jack to keep me safe..."

Rhys could hardly believe it; he thought if he saw Rip and made the connection that he'd killed his soul mate, he wouldn't keep him safe. But what did he know? Rhys, unlike his brothers, could hold a grudge until the end of time.