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The bedframe under Xisuma creaked with movement from beneath him. Shuffling, a grunt, a sharp sigh. 350 was still for a moment; then he cursed and rolled over again, judging by the groan of the bottom bunk’s mattress.
His brother was never noisy at night. He would sneak into their room silently, tiptoe across the floor, slide quietly into his bunk to avoid waking Xisuma – unaware of how Xisuma would lie awake waiting for 350’s return, just to make sure he was okay, that they hadn’t pushed him too far this time and oh god what will happen when they push him too far – but that wasn’t the point. The point was, it had to be bad for him to risk making that much noise.
Xisuma knew all too well how the flare-ups could be. Enhanced muscle strength, reinforced joints, resilience, immunity, whatever other jargon they called the features they built into their tool and their weapon – it didn’t come without cost to the prototypes. The stiff muscles that tightened all too easily came with soreness at best, cramping and throbbing with pleas for release they couldn’t attain at worst; “ready at all times” meant no time to rest. And joints would ache, scales would itch and throb, and of course, there was always the damn heart to top it off.
Xisuma’s heart hurt. That wasn’t new, obviously, but still, wasn’t just the fact of pain enough to be notable? Every thrum of blood pumping through his face throbbed, every touch to the poor exposed, tender flesh burned like nothing else.
He wondered why they’d made their hearts that way. If they’d been grown like this as a byproduct of… whatever else went into their making, or if they’d been torn from where they belonged some time before they could remember and grotesquely stitched and woven into their faces, a constant reminder of their purpose. Experiments. Monsters.
He wondered about that a lot. The supervisors didn’t like it when he wondered, so he had stopped asking. Still, the questions never stopped circling his mind.
Below him, 350 gasped, followed by a muffled whine. Oh, it was definitely bad. Xisuma carefully leaned his head over the side of his bunk.
“Three-fifty,” he whispered.
350 fell silent for a few seconds before he responded with a more purposeful-sounding grunt.
Xisuma sighed and pulled himself up to climb down the ladder. The cold rungs stung his bare feet, and then the cold floor did the same. Careful not to jostle him, Xisuma sat on the edge of 350’s bed and looked at his brother’s limp form. He lay on his stomach, tangled in sheets, his head turned away from Xisuma. He was quiet, but his shaky breathing betrayed the pain.
Xisuma rubbed a foot against his other leg in an attempt to escape the cold. His calves were getting to him. Best to let it be. Carefully, he set a hand on 350’s shoulder, eliciting only a weak flinch in response.
“Can I help?” he asked tentatively.
350 scoffed. “What do you think you can do?” His voice was short and terse.
“Um.” Sometimes Xisuma would rub and squeeze his own muscles to soothe the pain when it got bad. The warmth and pressure of it felt good. Maybe it would feel good for 350 too? “I could try a massage?”
350’s shoulders shook with what Xisuma hoped was a laugh. “Sure, X.”
The acceptance surprised Xisuma, but he shrugged it aside. Carefully, he tugged the sheets off of and out from under 350, untangling his arms on the way. “Where is it the worst?”
“I dunno. Back, maybe. Hip too. I, mngh…” Xisuma could see the left side of 350’s face tighten in a grimace. He winced sympathetically as he pulled his brother’s shirt up to start working on his upper back. 350 let out a shaky breath as Xisuma gently pressed his palms into his shoulder blades and started rubbing in circles. Gosh, was he doing this right? An unskilled massage didn’t run the risk of making things worse, did it?
350 groaned in a way that sounded… good? Maybe? Well, he hadn’t told Xisuma to stop or made any seriously concerning noises, so he was probably fine. Xisuma dug his thumbs into his brother’s spine, earning him a small sigh. Yeah, he was probably doing okay. He moved his hands further up onto 350’s shoulders, brushing over the bumps and grooves of his scarred and scaled skin. It really would have been better if 350’s head was straight rather than tilted to the side, but well, it wasn’t like Xisuma could tell him to put his heart right onto the pillow! He shuddered a bit just imagining the pain of fabric rubbing against the delicate organ.
350 shivered and whimpered when Xisuma’s fingers dug into the back of his neck too harshly. He whispered an apology and gently rubbed the knotted muscles between his brother’s neck and shoulders instead, afraid of hurting him by applying too much pressure. Geez, 350 was definitely tensing his shoulders too much. With what Xisuma had seen of the tests and training he was put through, though… He really couldn’t hold it against him.
350’s breathing was tense, only relaxing a bit once Xisuma moved his hands down his back again.
“They give you pain medicine,” 350 said hoarsely once his breaths had settled.
“Only for the worst flare ups,” Xisuma corrected quietly. It didn’t work very well, either. Chemical immunities, they had downsides.
“’S more than they offer me.” Ah, there was that familiar bitterness.
Xisuma sighed. “You’re right,” he agreed.
350 stayed quiet after that, breathing heavily as Xisuma started working his middle back. He found his eye wandering across the scars, dwelling again on the unkind treatment his brother had been put through ever since he’d been picked as the weapon . It made Xisuma… so mad. It wasn’t a feeling he knew how to handle, not along with the absolute helplessness that came with it. What wouldn’t he do to make things better for him! What could he do was a better question, but it always came with the same answer. Nothing, nothing, nothing.
“I’d trade places with you if I could, you know.”
350 actually laughed at that, a sharp noise, almost like barking. He shuddered again. “No you wouldn’t.”
“I…” Xisuma sighed as he really considered the statement. Make his brother’s life better, yes, in a heartbeat! But to really, truly trade places… Xisuma didn’t know if he could . He wasn’t strong like his brother. He didn’t think he could withstand what they put 350 through.
…But maybe 350 couldn’t either. Maybe the brother Xisuma had in those first precious weeks couldn’t withstand what he’d gone through at all, and now he would never be that person again.
Most of all, Xisuma was a coward. 350 had told him that many times, and every time it was true.
“It’s just – it’s not fair, how they treat you. It’s… It’s not fair.” The words came out lamely, and Xisuma cringed. There was so much more he meant to say, he just couldn’t… He rubbed circles in 350’s back.
350 snorted. “Is that a revelation to you?”
Xisuma lifted his hands. “No! It’s not, I – I just – look, I am really trying to help you, but you – you're just mean to me!”
“Oh, and that must be so hard for you,” 350 snapped.
“Yes! It is!” Xisuma took a deep breath. “I don’t mean… I’m not trying to compare, or say I have it worse or anything, cause I know I don’t. It’s just.” He took another breath, only noticing then how his sore chest shook with it. “We were supposed to be brothers. And now I hardly know you anymore. A-and, they hurt you, and they don’t treat you like a person, and it’s not fair, and I want to help I just – I miss you. I don’t know. I don’t know.”
Xisuma’s hands trembled. Slowly, he rested them on 350’s back again. His brother sobbed into the pillow. (It could have just been the pain.)
350 had said that his hips hurt. Xisuma moved his hands down his back and started gently working the muscles in his lower back, sides, hips. Xisuma’s arms ached, he noticed. It didn't keep him from massaging, and it definitely wasn’t as bad as how 350 was feeling, he just… he just noticed it. Xisuma’s heart hurt, too. It sounded like a metaphor, but no, really, he could just feel far too acutely how it pumped faster with the burst of emotion still draining from his body, and it burned.
He wished 350 would apologize to him.
“I wish you would talk to me,” he said instead.
350 was silent. Xisuma wondered if that was spite.
A muffled set of footsteps from outside made them both tense. Xisuma’s eye darted to the door. It opened soon after, and a supervisor stared emotionlessly from the doorway, their shiny ConCorp badge glittering in the dim light.
“What’s going on? Why aren’t you in bed?” Her voice rang within the bare bedroom walls, a violent invasion against the dim quiet the prototypes had been in just moments before.
Xisuma carefully masked his irritation. This was a researcher he’d worked with before in the labs. It was all too easy to forget that your coworkers are also in charge of your entire life.
“I was just helping him with his pain,” Xisuma explained calmly. Scolded for being out of bed. Really, it wasn’t like they were children!
She frowned and turned her attention to 350. “You’re an enhanced individual prototype. Pain is usual.”
350 lay limply and made no attempt to reply. Xisuma answered for him through gritted teeth. “Yes, we know.”
“Hm. Well, go back to bed, then, Xisuma.”
Xisuma closed his eye and sighed. “Okay.”
The researcher left. The door locked behind her.
350 let out a low growl, his fingers tightening in the sheets. Xisuma noticed then that his brother hadn’t looked at him once that night. Not that he could blame him, laying face down like that, it must have just hurt too much to move at the moment, and…
And now Xisuma had no choice but to leave him in this condition, lest another supervisor notice him out of place through the cameras again.
Pain is usual. Pain is usual. As if they needed to be reminded. Did usual mean insignificant? Did they not deserve to have anybody care?
Xisuma’s hands lingered on 350. 350 was still hurting. He didn’t know if the massage had even helped.
“Just go,” 350 mumbled. Xisuma nodded before remembering his brother still couldn’t see him.
“Okay,” he sighed.
He felt the urge to hug 350, just then. If it weren’t for knowing that his brother would never accept that from him again. He pulled the blankets back over 350’s body, who grunted and clumsily tugged them off just seconds after.
Xisuma looked for a moment longer. Then he climbed back into his bed as he was told. He lay there silently for a while, and he ached. His neck had decided to be particularly troublesome. 350 didn’t make any more noise, which might be a good thing, or, or it could not be. He didn’t know, he didn’t ever know with his brother. God, he missed him.
“I love you,” Xisuma called softly to him.
Maybe 350 had already fallen asleep, and that was why he never heard anything back.