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See, when Parthi’s brother appeared on his doorstep after fifteen years of silence, the first thing he assumed was that he had murdered someone high up in the ladder and had nowhere to go. Which itself wasn’t a bad flow of logic except, Parthi’s thoughts stuttered, his brother wouldn’t have murdered anyone he couldn’t have gotten away with through their father’s influence. Which meant either one of two things: he had come to drag Parthi back (unlikely) or… he’d gotten into trouble with father himself.
Observing the bloodied and bandaged visage, Parthi winced. Yeah, it was definitely the latter.
Stepping aside, he held the door open, letting his brother stumble in with a drag to his feet that was so unlike him —though, what did he know? It’s been years since they’ve last seen each other.
“You look like shit,” he muttered, quickly catching the other man by the arm before he fell.
With a piercing glare, Leo shrugged off his arm and muttered, “Yeah, well, I feel like it too.”
Parthi snorted.
“Who is it, Parthi?” Sathya called from the kitchen, most likely making the French toast Chintu had been asking for. Parthi gave his brother a once over and sighed. Looked like Chintu might need to wait for her snacks.
“I’ll be back,” he said to Leo, getting him settled onto the sofa. His brother grunted, the movement pulling at his wounds and slumped. It was a little funny, seeing his proud and vicious little brother like this. Ever since he was born Leo had been headstrong, conniving and unbearably proud —not that, of course, their father helped quell it, igniting it more instead.
“Shut up,” Leo groaned, blearily giving him the stink eye.
“I didn’t even say anything!” Parthi protested, indignant.
Leo peeked an eye open, “No,” he allowed. “But you were thinking it.”
That Parthi couldn’t refute.
He snorted again, shaking his head and turned to the kitchen. From his peripherals he noticed Siddhu’s room door slowly closing and closed his eyes, exasperation overwhelming him. Figured Siddhu would be the one sneaking around, hearing things he shouldn’t.
“Who is it, Pari?” Sathya asked, flipping the bread on the pan.
Parthi leaned against the counter and mused on how to break the news to her. It’s not every day your wife got to know that your ‘orphan’ husband had a fucking brother, is it?
“First of all,” Parthi smiled, a little strained around the edges. “You might want to switch off the cooker.”
See, when Sathya married her husband, Parthi, she knew —not outright, no, he’s too clever for that— that something was off about him. In the same distinct way that she knew how many bullets were left in her revolver —with certainty. She knew that when she had asked him to marry her two days after they had met.
Yet, their hope at a quiet life was something they shared.
So, she gave it a chance. And for twenty years, their life had been perfect. A house on the hill, two beautiful children, their family nights, his coffee shop and her nine-to-four work. It was a blessing.
Parthi had a shady background, yes, and it showed itself in the way their house was built like a maze with secret pathways and safe rooms; in the way he had prowled like a caged predator when they were newly wedded; in the way he intrinsically taught their children to expect the worst and wield the better part of themselves and always, always be prepared.
Yet, somehow, she had never expected this.
What the fuck.
“Fuck?” Mathi repeated after her, looking far too inquisitive for Sathya’s remaining strands tethering together her sanity.
Siddhu, bless his heart, quietly shushed her, pulling her behind him with a muttered, “Bad word, Chintu.”
Sathya sighed.
The kids had scurried downstairs as soon as Pari had made his way to the kitchen and had been staring down the guy her husband claimed to be his brother. The brother who, apparently, had succumbed to Morpheus after giving the kids a wave. Well, at least there were some manners in this one.
Ah, goodness.
“Kids,” Sathya pinched the bridge of her nose and called out. “Bed, now.”
“But, ma! ” Chintu whined, pushing out her lips to make her look pitiful —taking after her father, of course.
“No,” Sathya gave them a warning look. “I need to talk to your father. Bed, now.”
Chintu wilted whereas Siddhu just gained a calculating glint to his eyes.
Gods give her patience.
“Oof,” Siddhu winced, a smirk threatening to tip up his lips. “RIP, appa. ”
She could see viscerally the moment it clicked to Parthi what exactly it meant to have her talk to him alone.
Panic. Utter panic.
“On second thought!” the man she married exclaimed and Sathya looked heavenward. If she rolled her eyes every time her husband bent to the kids’ whims to protect his own hide, her eyes would roll out of their sockets. “Why not have them here for the conversation, it would save us the trouble of having to go through it again.”
Sathya crooked her index finger and beckoned Parthi to come closer, away from little ears perking up to catch snatches of the words exchanged.
“You really want them to find out about the past, Mr. Parthiban?” she asked, voice hushed, and eyes narrowed. In truth, she had made peace with both of their past —though she had not narrowed down what exactly Parthi had done in his youth. Whatever it might have been, they had only been teaching their kids good things. That was good enough for her.
Parthi gnawed at his lips, not even having the decency to look surprised that she had known something. Bastard. There was a contemplative light to his eyes and just like that, Sathya immediately understood.
“Ah,” she said.
“Eloquent, my love,” Parthi replied, crow’s feet crinkling like an imprint of adoration and Sathya felt her insides melting.
“I’m killing you in your sleep,” she muttered, a glare —no matter how half-hearted, firmly on her face.
“Then you’d miss me,” he crooned.
“As if.”
Parthi turned to the kids, a small smile playing on his lips. Siddhu scrunched up his face as if he had known exactly what had passed between his parents and stuck out his tongue at Parthi.
“Want me to clip it off?” Parthi asked, conversationally as he dropped onto the footrest before the sofa and motioned the kids to sit. Parthi’s brother stayed unconscious at the other side of the living room, unaware of their little gathering.
“So,” Parthi began once they were all settled. “I’m sure you all have questions.”
Not even hesitating, Mathi’s hand was up in the air, impatiently flailing about when Parthi just stared at her with the sort of exasperation imbued with love that only a parent could wear. Sathya, tactfully, stifled a chuckle.
“Right,” he shook his head and gestured at Mathi to go on.
“Is that your brother?” short and to the point with no accusation, just plain inquisitiveness playing on her face.
Parthi paused, curbing the instinctive no that came to his lips.
Sathya peered at him, catching onto his hesitance like an eagle to its prey yet maintained her silence, giving him the chance to put together his thoughts. How he loved her for it.
Saying ‘no’ was the easiest decision he could take, it would save him from all the trouble that was sure to follow, but it wouldn’t be the truth. His family, well, they deserved the truth.
And the truth was,
“Yes.”
Siddhu settled his chin against his palm and frowned.
“How come we haven’t seen him around?” he asked and then blinked, as if having come to the conclusion. “He looks young. Was he born after you married mom?”
“Yah,” Parthi grumbled, reaching forward to flick at his son’s forehead. “How old do you think I am?!”
Siddhu ducked, hiding a grin against the sleeve of his sweater.
“He’s…” Parthi began and paused, avoiding both Sathya’s and Siddhu’s penetrating gazes and focusing on Chintu’s face. “We just haven’t been brothers for a long time.”
“What does that mean?” Chintu asked, confusion marring her face.
“It means,” a voice spoke up from the side. Ah, he’s awake then. Leo gave a grin too wide for comfort and directed his eyes at Parthi. “That it has been fifteen years since we last talked.”
“Oh,” Chintu frowned, and Parthi instinctively reached forward to rub the crease between her eyebrows. “That’s sad.”
“Of course,” Leo hummed. “We survived though. That’s what matters.”
“Sounds like a tough situation you both were part of,” Siddhu observed, resting his chin against his palm. “Were you a mafioso or something, then?”
Silence festered as neither brother replied.
“No way.”
Siddhu gaped. He took a look at his sheepish looking father and at his newfound uncle who was bandaged as if he was heavily wounded.
“ No way.”
“Mafioso?” Chintu piped up, asking in the most damning innocent tone that only a child could own. Sathya discreetly covered her eyes, keeping an ear out for how her husband would handle it.
“Bad guys,” Siddhu replied.
Chintu blinked, confused.
“ Appa was a bad guy?”
“Ah–”
Leo grunted, shifting to a more upright position and shook his head at the little girl.
“No,” he said, waving away the concern of his brother. “I’m a bad guy, your appa isn’t because he left as soon as he could.”
“Ohhh.”
“Right,” Sathya coughed and cleared her throat. She gave a pointed look at Parthi and silenced her kids before they could stray off the path once again.
“What exactly happened?” she asked, not caring who of the two answered. “From the beginning if you will.”
“Well,” Parthi exhaled sharply. No one interrupted him. “We weren’t exactly mafioso but I guess we were a criminal organisation. We sold cigars during the day and prohibited items during the night.”
Sathya figured that the ‘prohibited items’ were most likely to be drugs of some kind.
“Our father was the head of it all and we were born in the midst of it all,” Parthi swallowed. “I left when my, uh,” he clenched his jaws. Sathya reached forward, letting her fingers intertwine with his and gave a light squeeze. Parthi smiled, a wobbly thing, and squeezed back. “I left after our mother passed away.”
Leo snorted.
“It wasn’t a natural death, I’m assuming,” Siddhu drawled after observing his uncle’s reaction.
“It was Anthony,” was all Leo said.
Parthi smiled, bittersweet memories coating the back of his throat like tar.
“Our appa .”
“That’s so sad…” Chintu whispered, curling onto herself. Sathya patted her back, slightly embracing her.
“It is,” Parthi agreed. “ Appa was a bit mad, he believed in superstitions and engaged in practices that I’d rather not mention but yeah. I ran away. Found someone who was able to help me start a new life.”
“Well, looks like you achieved it,” Leo said joyfully. “At least, before I crashed it. Quite literally.”
Parthi rolled his eyes.
“Oh shut it,” he grumbled. “Siddhu, go get the first aid box.”
“Okay, appa. ”
“First aid?” Leo frowned. “I’m not going to be here for a long time, they’ll get a whiff of me if I do.”
“They must be already on their way, idiot,” Parthi retorted, taking the first aid box from Siddhu. “We’re already a target and you are not moving until you’re able to run without fainting.”
Leo growled, slumping back. A rather easy victory if only because his brother was helpless and injured.
“What happened anyway?” Parthi asked, not exactly liking the awkward fragile silence that had taken precedence over the room after Parthi started redressing the wounds on Leo. “I thought you were in appa’s pocket.”
Leo snorted disdainfully, though whether it was directed at him or at the statement or at Parthi was unclear.
“Like that stopped the old man from trying to sacrifice Elisa,” he muttered, yet it was heard by everyone like a clang of an old bell.
“Sacrifice?” Parthi asked sharply.
“Mhm,” Leo hummed and then winced. “Ouch, that — anna that hurts!”
“Sorry,” Parthi quickly loosened the bandages stuck between quelling the honey delight welling up inside his chest at being addressed once again as anna and the fact their father had apparently tried to sacrifice their sister. “What the hell?”
“I know right?” Leo huffed. “We were lucky that Elisa’s heart wasn’t on the left side or she might have died from chitappa ’s knife. I’m surprised you didn’t ask about her though.”
Parthi heaved a sigh, not at all oblivious to how his family ogled at their casual back and forth, feeling quite his age in a long, long time.
“I wasn’t sure,” he said. “Assumed that she was either dead or safe, I know you wouldn’t leave her back there if you weren’t there.”
Leo hooked the tip of his lips up in an arc.
“Look at you, anna ,” he teased. “Trusting me and shit.”
“Well,” Parthi tightened the bandage for a second and clipped it into place. “Figured it wouldn’t hurt.”
Leo huffed and casted a gaze at the kids and Sathya before looking back at Parthi and then contemplatively returning his eyes back to Sathya.
“I’m surprised anni is taking this so well,” Leo narrowed his eyes at her. “Are you sure you aren’t a mafioso, anni? ”
Sathya deadpanned at him and countered dryly,
“Considering I worked for RAW, I’m pretty sure I would have noticed if I was a mafioso.”
Leo blinked.
And then blinked a couple more.
And then a few more to be sure.
He then turned to his brother.
“Pardon me, dearest anna but,” he paused. “Weren’t you saying something about a normal family?!”
Parthi, who had been expecting something out of the range of normal, wiped down his face and sighed.
“Believe me, this is the first I’m hearing it too.”