Chapter Text
LANDON
“How much do you hate me, Glydon?”
Landon asked it like he was commenting on the weather.
Calm.
Detached.
Almost bored.
As if the question didn’t slice straight through his narcissistic heart.
The air in the room felt stale, unmoving, as though even the walls were holding their breath. Outside the tall windows, evening light bled through grey clouds, casting the room in a dull silver glow.
Glydon went still.
For a moment, the silence was suffocating.
Her fingers curled slightly at her sides, nails pressing into her palms as if grounding herself.
Then slowly, she lifted her head and looked at him.
Really looked.
The same sapphire eyes.
The same cold arrogance etched into every line of his face.
The same brother she had once followed around as a child, believing he was untouchable.
The same brother she had learned to despise.
Venom flooded her gaze.
“You really want to know?”
She asked quietly.
Landon leaned back against the wall, crossing his arms with casual ease.
His posture was relaxed, almost lazy, like a man settling down to watch a show he’d already seen before.
His expression held mild curiosity.
Like he was observing an interesting experiment rather than confronting the hatred of his own sister.
“Humor me.”
That did it.
Rage burst through Glydon’s chest so violently it almost stole the air from her lungs.
For years it had been buried beneath forced civility and fragile family dinners.
Now it erupted, raw and uncontrollable.
“I hate you more than anything, Landon!”
Her voice cracked like a whip in the quiet room.
She stepped toward him, anger driving every movement.
“More than anything!”
She repeated, her breathing uneven.
“More than the pain we grew up with. More than every miserable memory in my life.”
Landon didn’t move.
He simply watched her.
“I wish it was just Brandon as my brother!”
Her hands trembled violently now.
“I wish every single thing I’ve suffered could be transferred to you.”
Still nothing.
No anger.
No denial.
Not even surprise.
Landon’s gaze remained fixed on her face, calm and unreadable.
“I wish you could feel it,”
She continued, her voice shaking with fury.
“Everything I suffered. Everything Brandon suffered. Every moment we were destroyed because of you.”
A flicker passed through Landon’s eyes.
It was so brief it might have been imagined.
Gone before it could fully form.
But Glydon didn’t notice.
Or maybe she simply didn’t care.
Years of resentment were spilling out now, unstoppable.
“I wish you could feel every sleepless night,”
She said hoarsely.
“Every humiliation. Every broken piece of this family.”
Her chest rose and fell rapidly.
Memories clawed their way through her mind.
Brandon’s quiet suffering.
The arguments.
The silent dinners.
The way everything somehow circled back to Landon.
Always Landon.
“God,”
She whispered, her voice cracking under the weight of her own anger,
“I wish you’d disappear from my life.”
The words landed between them like a blade dropped onto marble.
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Crushing.
Even the faint hum of electricity in the walls seemed louder than usual.
Glydon stared at him, waiting.
Waiting for anger.
For denial.
For something.
Anything.
Landon simply stared back.
Then he chuckled.
The sound was soft.
Amused.
Almost lazy.
Like her hatred was nothing more than background noise.
“That’s it?”
He said.
Glydon’s nails dug deeper into her palms.
“You think this is funny?”
“Oh no,”
Landon replied smoothly.
“I think it’s fascinating.”
He pushed himself off the wall.
His movements were slow and deliberate, each step echoing faintly on the polished floor as he walked toward her.
“You’ve been carrying that for years, haven’t you?”
His voice dropped slightly.
Not softer.
Just quieter.
More thoughtful.
His gaze moved across her face, studying every crack in her anger like a scientist examining a specimen under glass.
“All that hatred,”
He murmured.
Glydon glared at him.
“Don’t act like you care.”
“I don’t.”
The answer came instantly.
Cold.
Effortless.
It hit harder than if he had shouted.
Her chest tightened painfully.
But before she could respond, Landon continued.
“Too bad, Glydon,”
He said with a lazy shrug.
“I don’t think your little wish could happen.”
His lips curved upward.
Not warm.
Never warm.
Sharp.
Mocking.
“But you know what?”
He added lightly.
“One can always wish.”
Glydon’s stomach twisted at the quiet amusement in his voice.
On the surface, it sounded like ridicule.
Like he was mocking her pain.
Mocking Brandon.
Mocking everything she had just confessed.
But something in Landon’s eyes betrayed him.
For a single second—
Something dark flickered there.
Something tired.
Something ancient.
Something that looked suspiciously like exhaustion.
As if he had been carrying a weight no one else could see.
Glydon frowned.
It vanished almost instantly, replaced by the same cool detachment.
“You’re unbelievable,”
She said bitterly.
“Not the first time I’ve heard that.”
Her anger surged again.
“How can you stand there like nothing matters?”
She demanded.
Landon tilted his head slightly.
“Because most things don’t.”
“You destroyed Brandon!”
She snapped.
His gaze shifted briefly to the side, toward the window where rain had begun tapping softly against the glass.
“I didn’t destroy him,”
Landon said calmly.
“You did!”
Glydon insisted.
“He has stopped smiling! He has stopped laughing since he was a teen! Since the day your NARCISSISTIC presence made itself known to all of us!”
She took a shaky breath.
“You were always at the center of it! Center of attention that Brandon and I couldn't get! You never let us have anything!”
Landon said nothing.
The rain outside grew heavier, droplets streaking the glass in crooked lines.
“You were always stronger,”
Glydon continued.
“Smarter. Better at everything. And you knew it.”
Her voice softened slightly, though the anger remained.
“You never even tried to stop it.”
Landon finally looked back at her.
His eyes were unreadable again.
“What exactly was I supposed to stop?”
He asked.
“The way people treated us!”
She said.
“And you think that was my responsibility?”
“Yes!”
Her answer came instantly.
Landon stared at her for a long moment.
Then he sighed quietly.
Not irritated.
Just tired.
“You always had interesting expectations of me,”
He murmured.
Glydon’s jaw tightened.
“You were our brother.”
“I still am”
“You are more of a parasite than a brother!”
“Am i?”
The question hung between them.
Glydon hesitated.
Landon watched the hesitation with faint amusement.
“See?”
He said.
“Interesting expectations.”
She hated how calm he sounded.
Hated how nothing ever seemed to reach him.
“How can you live with yourself?”
She demanded.
Landon shrugged lightly.
“It’s surprisingly easy.”
Her eyes burned with fury.
“You’re heartless.”
“Probably.”
“You don’t care about anyone.”
“That’s debatable.”
“Name one person you care about,”
She challenged.
For the first time, Landon didn’t answer immediately.
His gaze drifted downward briefly, as if considering the question.
He did have a answer.
But for the shake of everyone's peace, he didn’t answer.
Then he smiled again.
That same sharp smile.
“Unfortunately,”
He said,
“that information is classified.”
Glydon scoffed.
“You’re impossible.”
“I’ve been called worse.”
She stared at him, breathing unevenly.
The anger was still there.
But beneath it was something else now.
Confusion.
Frustration.
Because part of her expected him to snap.
To fight back.
To defend himself.
But he never did.
Not really.
Landon simply absorbed everything she threw at him.
As if her hatred barely registered.
“You know what’s the worst part?”
She said quietly.
He raised an eyebrow.
“What?”
“You act like none of this matters.”
“Maybe it doesn’t.”
“It matters to us!”
She snapped.
“Ah,”
Landon said.
There was something strange in the way he said it.
Soft.
Almost thoughtful.
He looked at her again.
Really looked this time.
At the anger in her eyes.
At the trembling in her hands.
At the pain she was trying so hard to hide behind rage.
Then he chuckled again.
Softly.
“You’re right about one thing,”
He said.
Glydon frowned.
“What?”
Landon slipped his hands into his pockets.
“The wish.”
“What about it?”
He tilted his head slightly, considering her.
“If it actually worked,”
He said slowly,
“I think you’d like the result.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“Why?”
His smile returned.
But it was different this time.
Quieter.
Less mocking.
“Because suffering isn’t transferable,”
He said.
“It multiplies.”
Glydon stared at him, confused.
Before she could ask what he meant, Landon stepped past her.
Heading toward the door.
“Where are you going?”
She asked sharply.
He paused briefly, glancing back over his shoulder.
“Out.”
“That’s it?”
“That’s usually how leaving works.”
Her anger flared again.
“You’re unbelievable!”
Landon gave a small wave without turning fully around.
“Good talk, Glydon.”
The door opened.
Cold air from the hallway slipped into the room.
He stepped through it.
But just before the door closed behind him—
His smile faded.
And for the briefest moment, when no one was watching—
Something in his expression cracked.
Something weary.
Something hollow.
Because if her wish really came true…
If every suffering she had named truly transferred to him—
Then maybe Brandon wouldn’t have to carry any silent burden anymore.
Maybe Glydon wouldn’t hate the world so much.
Maybe this broken family could breathe again.
And Landon…
Landon had always been good at carrying things alone.
JEREMY
Jeremy hissed quietly as Annika pressed the antiseptic against the cut on his ribs.
“Hold still,”
She whispered, leaning closer so she could see the wound properly.
The room smelled sharply of antiseptic and iron. The small lamp on the bedside table cast a pale yellow circle of light over them, leaving the rest of the room dim and shadowed.
Jeremy winced again as the cotton brushed the torn skin.
“I am holding still,”
He muttered through clenched teeth.
“You’re the one shaking.”
Annika didn’t answer.
Her hands were trembling so badly the bottle of antiseptic clinked softly against the metal tray beside her.
A tear slipped down her cheek before she could stop it.
Then another.
She blinked quickly, trying to clear her vision, but the memories kept replaying in her mind like a cruel film that refused to stop.
Creighton’s cold, unreadable eyes.
The knife glinting under the light.
The blade pressed lightly against Jeremy’s throat.
And the silent message behind it.
Your brother dies if you don’t listen.
Her chest tightened painfully.
She had almost lost him.
The thought alone made her stomach twist violently.
Her hands paused in the middle of wrapping the bandage around his ribs.
“I’m sorry,”
She choked out suddenly.
Jeremy frowned, looking down at her.
“For what?”
Annika swallowed hard.
“For this,”
She whispered.
Her fingers brushed the bruise forming along his side, as if the touch alone could somehow undo the damage.
“For you getting hurt because of me.”
Her voice cracked halfway through the sentence.
“If Creighton hadn’t wanted to threaten me—”
“Hey.”
Jeremy’s hand moved quickly, gently wrapping around her wrist before she could continue.
His grip wasn’t tight.
Just enough to stop her trembling hands.
Annika looked up slowly.
Her eyes were red and wet, lashes clumped together from tears she had tried so hard to hide.
Jeremy sighed quietly.
With his free hand, he reached up and brushed his thumb across her cheek, wiping away the tear that had slipped down.
“Don’t cry,”
He said softly.
“You’re ruining my heroic moment.”
Annika sniffed, clearly confused.
Jeremy tilted his head slightly, his lips curling into his usual teasing grin despite the bruises blooming across his face.
“Come on,”
He said dramatically.
“I almost died for you.”
Her eyes widened slightly.
He puffed his chest a little despite the obvious pain it caused him.
“At least tell me how amazing of a big brother I am.”
Annika stared at him.
Jeremy continued, raising his eyebrows expectantly.
“How brave,”
He added.
“How heroic.”
He paused for effect.
“Maybe even how handsome.”
A weak laugh escaped her before she could stop it.
It was small.
Fragile.
But it was still a laugh.
Jeremy smiled triumphantly.
“There it is,”
He said.
“That’s the reaction I was hoping for.”
But the smile didn’t stay on Annika’s face for long.
The humor faded almost immediately, replaced by something much deeper.
Something painfully serious.
She reached up slowly, cupping his face between her hands.
The gesture was gentle.
Almost careful.
Like she was reassuring herself he was really there.
Really alive.
Her fingers brushed the bruises along his cheekbone and jaw.
“You are amazing,”
She said quietly.
Jeremy blinked.
“You’re the best brother anyone could ever have.”
Her voice softened even more.
“I love you so much, Jeremy.”
For a brief moment, his grin faltered.
Only slightly.
But enough to reveal the emotion behind his usual joking mask.
Annika continued, her eyes shining with sincerity.
“I wish you get everything you ever want in life.”
Her thumb brushed lightly over the bandage wrapped around his shoulder.
“I hope you’re always happy.”
Jeremy stared at her.
The teasing response he had been about to say died somewhere in his throat.
Because she meant every word.
There was no exaggeration.
No joking tone.
Just quiet, unwavering truth.
To her, he wasn’t just being dramatic earlier.
He was the brother she had almost lost.
And the fear of that loss was still shaking her to the core.
Jeremy looked away briefly, rubbing the back of his neck.
“You’re getting weirdly emotional for someone who just patched me up,”
He muttered.
Annika shook her head.
“You don’t understand.”
“Probably not,”
He admitted.
Her hands slowly dropped from his face, but her gaze remained fixed on him.
“You could have died,”
She whispered.
Jeremy shrugged lightly.
“Technically anyone can die at any time.”
“Jeremy.”
“Okay, okay,”
He said quickly when he saw her expression darken.
“I get your point.”
But the humor in his voice faded slightly.
Because he remembered it too.
The cold pressure of the blade against his skin.
The quiet confidence in Creighton’s voice.
The knowledge that one wrong move would end everything.
Jeremy exhaled slowly.
“Honestly,”
He admitted,
“I was more worried about you than me.”
Annika frowned.
“Why?”
He gave her a small smile.
“Because you looked like you were about to attack him with a chair after you shot him.”
“I was thinking about it.”
Jeremy chuckled.
“Yeah, that’s exactly why.”
The sound eased some of the tension in the room.
For a moment, they simply sat there in silence.
The rain outside had started sometime earlier, tapping softly against the window.
Annika glanced down at the bandages again, adjusting them carefully.
“Does it still hurt?”
She asked quietly.
Jeremy thought about it.
Then shrugged.
“A little.”
She bit her lip.
“I’m sorry.”
He groaned dramatically.
“You said that already.”
“But I mean it.”
“I know.”
Jeremy reached out and lightly flicked her forehead.
Annika blinked in surprise.
“Stop apologizing for things that weren’t your fault,”
He said.
“But if he wasn’t trying to threaten me—”
“Annika.”
His tone was firmer now.
She stopped speaking.
Jeremy leaned forward slightly, ignoring the protest from his injured ribs.
“Listen to me,”
He said.
“You didn’t make Creighton do anything.”
She hesitated.
“But—”
“And you didn’t make me step in either.”
Annika looked at him uncertainly.
Jeremy smiled softly.
“I did that because I wanted to.”
She stared at him.
“Why?”
He laughed.
“Seriously?”
Annika didn’t answer.
So he ruffled her hair gently.
“Because Niko was in danger. Because that’s what big brothers do.”
Her throat tightened.
Jeremy leaned back again, stretching carefully.
“Protect their annoying little brothers and sisters.”
“I’m not annoying.”
“Debatable.”
She glared at him.
Jeremy grinned again.
But the grin softened as he looked at her tear-streaked face.
“Hey,”
He said quietly.
Annika looked up.
“You’re safe.”
The words were simple.
But they carried a quiet certainty.
Annika inhaled slowly.
Then nodded.
“You’re safe too,”
She said.
Jeremy shrugged.
“Of course I am.”
She studied his face again.
The bruises.
The exhaustion in his eyes.
The stubborn determination that had always been there.
And suddenly the fear surged back again.
“You scared me,”
She whispered.
Jeremy looked genuinely surprised.
“Really?”
“Yes!”
Her voice cracked again.
“I thought—”
She stopped before finishing the sentence.
Jeremy understood anyway.
He reached out and gently squeezed her shoulder.
“Well,”
He said lightly,
“I’m still here.”
Annika nodded slowly.
Her eyes softened again as she looked at him.
“I meant what I said earlier,”
She said.
Jeremy raised an eyebrow.
“About what?”
“I hope you get everything you ever want.”
He chuckled.
“That’s a dangerous wish.”
“Why?”
Jeremy leaned back against the headboard.
“Because I want a lot of things.”
Annika smiled faintly.
“Then I hope you get all of them.”
Jeremy studied her expression.
The sincerity.
The quiet determination behind it.
And something in his chest warmed slightly.
“You’re a good sister,”
He said.
Annika laughed softly.
“You’re only saying that because I patched you up.”
“True,”
He admitted.
She shook her head.
But the tension in her shoulders had finally begun to ease.
Outside, the rain continued to fall steadily.
The room felt calmer now.
Safer.
Annika looked at Jeremy one more time, as if committing the sight of him alive and breathing to memory.
Because earlier that night—
That had almost been taken away from her.
Her fingers tightened slightly around the edge of the blanket.
And deep inside her heart, she made a quiet promise.
A promise no one else would ever hear.
If the universe ever tried to take Jeremy away from her again—
She wouldn’t stand frozen in fear.
She wouldn’t beg.
She wouldn’t hesitate.
She would fight.
Against anyone.
Against anything.
Even fate itself.