“Look, A. You might be used to killing people, but…” Odd rubs his hands together, willing them to settle. “Maybe I lost the taste for it.”
The others shift uncomfortably in their seats. He doesn’t wanna have this conversation with everyone listening in,partially because even as he says the words, he knows they’re incomplete to the point of lying.
There’s a truth he can barely admit to himself.
He enjoyed killing Preston Whitaker. It fed something in his very marrow. Something long dormant. But keeping Rune out of the family business had been Odd’s decision. DeShaun had disagreed with him, but honored his request.
Odd never wanted his little artist boy to be touched by the ugliness the Guardians dealt with. Holmes had always wanted this life, but Rune… he couldn't imagine his sweet, mischievous Rune in this life, so he never gave him the option.
Rune struggled so much in school, needing more time to process what the other kids picked up on so easily. Working twice as hard to go half as far sometimes. Fighting against the idea that any of this spoke to his intelligence. Or his grit. Odd had wanted to drape him in a protective cloak and keep the world away from his precious boy.
His hands are shaking because his assumptions had almost gotten his son killed.
“Hey,” Anders says, reaching for his brother. “That wasn’t judgment. I genuinely wanna make sure you’re okay.”
Anders would not make fun of him for needing a beat to organize his thoughts. That much Odd knows for sure.
“So?” Anders asks after several moments of silence. “Are you okay?”
Odd inhales. Exhales. “I will be.”
Anders tightens his grip, kissing his brother’s tactical glove-covered knuckles. “Do you want to do a breathing exercise with me?”
Odd chuckles. He’s well aware of their wildly differing reputations. He’s the solid one. The sane one. Anders is the one who goes off script. The one who flirts with a diagnosis.
While the twins are identical, no one who’s spent more than a minute with them struggles to identify them. Just based on vibes, it’s hard to ignore the vibrating, murderous sunshine that is Anders Bash. He’s also a bit shaggier than Odd, and his combat gear has definitely seen a lot more wear. What no one ever seems to pick up on is that, until Odd left the Guardians, his body count equaled Anders’. Anders may give into the mayhem, but Odd enjoyed the killing just as much.
He never missed it in the intervening years, true, but his memories always made him smile. Having his "insane" brother walk him through a step-down is both poignant and a little hilarious.
“Yeah, sure. Let’s do a breathing exercise.”
Anders keeps it simple. Inhale for four beats, hold for four beats, exhale for four beats, hold for four beats. Repeat until the heart rate comes down out of the stratosphere.
DB watches as his husband and brother-in-law breathe together, marveling at the synchronicity. Not only of their breathing, but the timing of their blinks, the set of their shoulders, the uprightness of their spines. He exchanges a look with Omar, Anders’ husband, and they smile. The brothers-in-law get along, sometimes a little too well for the twins’ liking, but they each understand what it’s like to love a killer.
Omar and DB are no strangers to killing bad guys, but what Anders and Odd do is… different.
DB suspects Odd is struggling with how much he enjoyed killing Preston Whitaker. And he wishes he'd stood his ground when Odd wanted to keep Mav away from the family business.
If he really thinks about it, he's not all that surprised Mav made himself into a lethal weapon. That he had to do it all by himself... well. He and Odd had a ways to go to forgive themselves for that.
The twins end the breathing exercise, still simultaneous in the way their shoulders release as they settle back.
“Is it bad for you now?” Anders asks. “Killing someone?”
Odd pauses, giving his brother’s question consideration as groans go up around the cabin.
Hedy mutters, “You literally just helped him to calm down, jackass.”
Anders grimaces. “If that’s not the question to be asking right now, I retract it.”
Odd shakes his head. “It doesn’t bother me to answer your question. I’m trying to figure out how to answer you.”
Everyone leans forward, while Anders settles back, a patient look on his face.
After a few moments, Odd answers, “I’m not traumatized by today. I just… I hadn’t done this in so long, I hadn’t realized…”
He searches for the right words.
