Broken Pieces -Brotherly Love-

When something is broken badly enough, it can never go back. This holds true for objects, for animals, and even for people. You can try to piece it back together, but it could never be the same. It would be different from what you once knew. Even in the hands of a master, it would never be exactly the same.

Just like Albedo wasn't the same. Sure, he'd been a little different to begin with. But if he hadn't broken the link...

"If I hadn't..." Jr. pressed his head against the cold glass that encased the Durandal's park. He stared out through his reflection at the endless space, at the trillions of stars dotting the pitch-black landscape. Shaking his head, he pulled his forehead away, watching the vapor that had collected on the glass from when he had breathed vanish, leaving behind only a faint imprint.

Ignoring the fluttering fake insects, he sank down onto the bench nearest the windows, then laying down, his arms under his head. "I wonder.... where you are now." Jr. murmured, his eyes slipping closed for only a moment before a voice in the back of his head jolted him awake.

'I'll be waiting, Rubedo.'

That once familiar presence seemed so distant now, but he had to try to see if he could still... 'Where are you waiting?' Jr. tried to keep himself from sounding too surprised, elated, or angry, and yet he knew that he failed on all aspects.

'Aha! You really are still like an emotional little teenager. Quel chemin malheureux vous avez choisi, frère Rubedo. I pity you. In your room on this great harbinger of war.'

Without responding to him, Jr. ran to his room, nearly knocking over a poor 100-series that was away from the bridge. "Sorry!" He shouted back to her, finally reaching his room and waiting impatiently for the doors to open.

There... there he was. His brother. Albedo. Laying on the bed so nonchalantly, biting into an apple and getting the juices all over his chin and neck. Didn't he ever care about cleanliness?

Jr. strode over and, with the red sleeve of his coat, wiped the liquid from Albedo. "You really need to take better care of yourself." He grumbled, eliciting a laugh from the younger of the two. "Ah, Rubedo. Quite the metamorphosis you've gone through. From child to man, without changing face. I must say, it's something I should be proud of."

"Sh'up, Albedo. If I have to, I'll treat you like they do in hospitals, when you're a total cripple. You know, when nanotechnology can't fix you, and you can't take care of yourself at all? I'll have to feed you and clothe you and-"

"When nanotechnology can't fix you... just like it couldn't fix Sakura Mizrahi?" Albedo looked up at his brother smugly, watching his face contort into a fierce, almost disgusted expression. "I have a secret to tell you about that, you know. Sakura Mizrahi didn't die by my hands, oh, no. She died to protect me. Even though I hated her! Isn't that amazing, Rubedo?" He laughed again, and easily caught Jr.'s fist as he went to punch him across the face. "Oh, come, now. Stop it, Rubedo. You know that hurting me won't do anything."

Jr. felt Albedo's hand grip his fist tightly, but without that intention to harm. Just to stop. Without thinking, he relaxed his hand, pressing his palm and fingers against Albedo's.

"You're so small. So childlike. Like Peter Pan. You know, the boy who never wanted to grow up? Though he lives in Neverland. Not this hell. Not the hell that even the innocent have been sentenced to, Rubedo." Albedo rotated his palm just slightly so that he could intertwine his fingers with his brother's. "Rubedo... do you think that if the Miltian Conflict never happened... if we had just lived like normal boys with a normal mother and a normal family... we would be happier?"

It wasn't the question that prompted Jr. to answer. It was the look in Albedo's violet eyes. Instead of being filled with hatred and loathing, they were different. These were the same sad, scared, lonely eyes that Jr. had looked into so many times when he was a child. "Uh... maybe. But.. you know, if we had lived like that, we'd be dreaming about having adventures like we've had. We don't want them now, but we would have... er... craved them back then. That's the right word, right?" Jr. smiled sheepishly, with a nervous laugh to accompany.

"Craving... longing... wanting... desiring... they're all right." Albedo reached up with his other hand to run his fingers through Jr.'s short hair. "I sometimes wonder what you'd look like if you grew up, Rubedo."

Jr. smiled and pulled away from Albedo's hands, wrapping his arms around his twin's broad shoulders. "I'd look almost exactly like you and Gaignun, except for different hair and eyes. The other U.R.T.V.s would have looked the same."

"So, you'd be rather handsome, then." Albedo smirked, and Jr. pouted up at him. "Don't get a swelled head, Narcissus!" he teased, and Albedo laughed, pulling Jr.'s arms away from him. "It's time to wake up, now, you know." He smiled, getting up off of his bed. "So I have to go. You have a lot ahead of you."

"Wait, what do you mean, Albedo?" Jr. reached out for his brother again, though this time, his hand fell right through his brother's arm when he went to grab for it. "Wake up, Jr.," he saw Albedo mouth, though his voice was deeper, like Gaignun's. "Jr., wake up!"

Jr. opened his eyes and looked up at Gaignun sleepily, his vision blurred as sleep lingered. "What's goin' on?" He rubbed his eyes and sat up, looking at his younger brother, who, instead of wearing his suit, was in a t-shirt and jeans, leaning over him.

"You were having a nightmare about Albedo." Gaignun told him, though Jr. got the distinct feeling that it wasn't a nightmare. "And I woke you up. You have to remember, Jr., that he's dead. He's not coming back. Ever." Turning to the door, Gaignun paused, glancing back at Jr. with a sigh. "So just relax a little."

Jr. put a hand to the right side of his chest and felt nothing as he did with his left, before determining that Albedo was gone, his heart ceasing to beat as his did. He sank down into the pillows and closed his eyes. He would never be the same anymore. A piece of him had been broken off, and he could never go back to being the same.

Note: In French, Albedo says "What an unfortunate fate you have chosen for yourself, Rubedo, brother."