⇀ bridge.

@❛ sam kiszka the sensation that fills Jacob upon hearing that Sam is ‘good friends’ with his alpha is one that confuses him. anger, perhaps? or disgust? his hatred for the species has festered so deep, and the fact that his brother was now part of said beasts hadn’t fully sunken in; he didn’t want Sam to be close with the alpha. didn’t he hate them for all they’d taken from him? he says nothing to the statement, instead gritting his teeth as they grind against each other and his jaw tightens. had they also brainwashed him?

the hug is a bit of a shock to the vampire, who almost retreats, but is locked within his younger brother’s embrace. the warmth of his hug is enough to bring countless, confusing emotions bubbling up from the depths. he wanted to hug back, and yet he could not force his arms to move. he wanted to whisper how much he’d missed him, afraid that the wind would carry the declaration to his overlords’ ears, yet his lips refuse to form the words. it was almost as if the real him, locked inside the glass box inside his mind, was pummeling the walls, breaking fists against it, as he had been for years. only this time, this time his desperation to repair his family had cracked his prison. his arm raises, palm smacking against the back of Sam’s head to bring their foreheads together, a silent show of affection. since he couldn’t form the words to tell him that he loved him, he hoped this gesture, regardless of how minute, would be enough to suffice.

after several moments, Sam recoils from him, and places the piece of paper in his hand. as he looks down at it, his brows furrow. “A cell phone.” he mutters, seemingly bitter. he was not the most tech-savvy vampire out of the lot, and in fact, usually didn’t carry one on his person, but perhaps for Sam, he could make an attempt. he thought about Selena; would she teach him?

the way that Sam appeared with Jacob’s bride to be in his arms was ghastly, the vampire recalls, and he’s forced to turn from the scene and focus his eyes on the water below, the words from the lycan sending his mind spiraling into confusion and frustration. “We will see each other again.” he assures his younger sibling, although making it clear with the blunt statement that he’s no intention of following him underground.

@❛ jacob kiszka his figure stiffens a tad at his brother's words, and even though he acknowledged his fault within the death of him and jacob's love, he didn't wish to recall exactly how it had happened. it so easily brought tears to his eyes, and they weren't tears that he had ease holding them back. not when it came to this subject. his palms shift behind his figure, pressing so hard into the wooden bar that his palm began to splinter, and the wood began to crack. it was just within this moment does he act upon his emotions, eyes squeezing shut to find that control once more. he does so, only after a minute or so, or until he felt that breeze again. until he felt her again.

when samuel's eyes open again, they land upon the male he used to look up to, his hero when he was younger. at this moment in time, he wasn't sure what he'd look to him as. maybe an acquaintance, if he were lucky. "i wouldn't be surprised if he put the pieces together already. i'm sure he will, though. but i don't foresee him caring too much. i guess it's just because i'm good friends with him." his eyebrows knit together in thought as he gently runs his nails over his right cheek, lips parting to emit a sigh. there are howls that he can hear faintly in the distance, and while he doesn't think either of them would be caught, that wasn't a risk that he was willing to take.

"in that case, then." he retrieves a crumbled piece of paper from his back pocket, and a pen, before scribbling down his number. only then does he take heavy steps forward, pen tucked back into his pocket before swiping his tongue between his tiers. samuel stops before his older brother, eyes downcast upon the sheet of paper before tilting his head up with another shaky sigh following suit. leaning forward, his arms wind around his brother's shoulder snugly, tightly - as if he wouldn't let go. he didn't want to. he wanted to patch up whatever was happening here because they were brothers, and that was more important than anything else. but it wasn't that easy. he remains for a few good seconds, eyes fluttered shut, before pulling away. the action was filled with hesitation, but he would want to pull away himself before he was shoved.

"don't hesitate to reach out, brother." a mere whisper, he grasps at one of jacob's hands before setting the paper into it and curling his fingers around it. maybe if he kept saying the word, only if words held more of an impact, then jacob would be willing to begin to patch things up. to remember who he was, and everything that they were before. only then does he finally turn his back towards him to fill his embrace with the weight of amelia's body. "you can always come with, if you want." he adds, turning to face him once more.

@❛ sam kiszka the death dealer stands motionless, expressionless, as Sam speaks. maybe he had thought the same thing at one point during the day directly following the events at the graveyard. for a moment, he would blame his brother for their mutual loss, but in the end he knew it not to be that simple, for the world in which they live was not the black and white of the mortal realm, but a series of greys. every happenstance had nuances upon nuances, nothing was as cut and dried, none that certain as when they were alive.

his eyes refuse to acknowledge her again, resolve hardening by the second. “You’re right.” he speaks after a moment, not a single defect within the integrity of his voice. “We are equally responsible. You led her to her death, and I executed her.” how ironic, he thinks for a moment, that the woman that personified the sunlight to them both would be forever muted by their shadows. Sam made a fatal mistake that set her stumbling right into Jake’s murderous grip, and while the immediate guilt lays upon the shoulders of the latter, the former played his own role.

his next question doesn’t quite sink in for a moment, as Jacob was almost certain he couldn’t have expected the answer to be anything positive.

“Don’t be naive, brother. You’ve lived too long already to use your youth as an excuse.” he looks to the moon, partially concealed by thick, dark clouds. she was a grim reminder to them both of the monsters they are. “If the elders knew my brother is alive, and lycan no less, I’d lose what’s left of my remaining favor with them. I can’t imagine your alpha would trust you anymore, either.” his hand grips the structure tighter, perhaps out of frustration, though one might not be able to tell from his stoic expression. he’d wept for his brother, prayed for his soul every day, mourned him. yet now that he stood in front of them, the possibility that he could embrace him was nonexistent. welcoming him into his life would be too detrimental to the both of them, and Jake would be damned if Sam would be the next figure swaddled in black silk. “Whatever contact we have from now on must be secretive, not so often that it draws attention.”

@❛ jacob kiszka this time, samuel began to feel a little more at ease. his question wasn't being rejected, nor was his presence, although it seemed like either of the two would be ready to leave if they sensed discomfort in the other. if samuel felt as though he wasn't wanted within his brother's company then he would consider leaving, but that wasn't the case. not this time around. he believed for the two to be in similar wavelengths of confusion, though they were vastly different. samuel, whom believed his brother was alive this entire time, was concerned more on their future as brothers. as friends. meanwhile, jacob didn't even know he was alive. that's not something that he could imagine wrapping his mind around, either. especially because he came out of nowhere.

"i remember." he nods, the tips of his fingers now pressing against his chin as his brows knit into a faint frown. they'd been so close all along? it didn't surprise him, though, that jacob would give his life to getting his revenge on the creatures that'd taken his entire family away from him. if samuel was in that position, he thinks to himself, he would've done the exact same thing. "i understand." he adds, his teeth gnawing upon the flesh of his lower lip, a habit that'd followed him wherever he went. "look, i know this isn't going to be something you're going to want to hear, but i need to say it anyway." the male began, clearing his voice in attempt to speak with a bit more volume than he already was.

"don't blame yourself for this." his gaze shifts towards the black silk that amelia's body is hidden behind, as if to express that she was what he was speaking about. "if it's anyone's fault, it's mine. you were just doing your job, there's no way you could've known it was us and that's on me." his palm raises to run along the nape of his neck, eyes downcast once more. he tries to focus in on questions, the many that whirred within his head like a tornado of it's own, but he failed. it was overwhelming him, everything about what had happened, but it mainly upset him that the first memory with his brother after centuries aren't good ones. they're supposed to be.

"where do we go from here, brother?"

the whisper is faint, barely blending within the cold air that surrounded them. he was uncertain that jacob would even want to pursue a relationship with him once again, but maybe he had the slightest hope. maybe, just maybe, they can begin working towards what they once had.

the wedding. he had managed to keep that topic locked away within his brain for a lifetime, but for the past two nights, he had thought about it nonstop. if he had stayed, married her, perhaps none of this would’ve happened. if he had the courage to face a life without his brother, he probably could’ve been happy for the rest of his mortal years, and Amelia, too. he could understand his brother’s fear of facing eternity alone, for he held the same, although he would never admit it. he didn’t know it yet, but the night he sired Selena wouldn’t have been out of pure coincidence, not simply because he was weakened, but because he couldn’t live another day without someone to be at his side.

when his own turning came into question, Jacob found himself tensing; a natural instinct now. did he share that part of his life with his brother, now? he owed him some kind of explanation, he decides, and shoves his hands into his pockets. “If you remember, there was a castle just beyond the forest. Father, myself, and Joshua would carry tribute to its residents. For protection against the wolves.” the final sentence is bitter, as he realizes it did not help. “The elders had been there all along. So I offered myself to them.” his pearly fangs peek out from his tiers when they join, creating a loose seam. recalling the night he threw himself at the feet of the council and begged for the power to rip the lycans to shreds in this moment, his mind is numb to it. his voice void, as if he were reciting data. he wouldn’t say more, for there was no reason to.

there were hundreds of years of memories between the two, and so many things that Jacob wanted to share with Sam; so many things that he’d seen that would make him think of his younger brother, yet none surfaced. for the first time in decades, the death dealer was confused, and aware of it. not even the centuries of training could’ve prepared him for this bitter reunion.

@❛ jacob kiszka the words that had managed to slip through samuel's tiers dissipated within the transparency of the air, and he didn't attempt to speak any further, for the attempt to do so was already denied. somewhat. at least, that's how samuel had perceived it. so he does just that, he doesn't speak and his eyes remain on the wood beneath his feet because no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't find it within him to look at his brother. not right now, he couldn't face him. all that managed to grab the air between his couplet pair and mold it into a whisper was a faint "sorry" with a puff of air accompanying it before him.

he can sense the movement of the older male, even able to see it in his peripherals, but his body remains immensely still. he tried to relax a bit more, attempting to deepen his breathing as if it would assist in his relaxation, but he failed to do any of it. his body wouldn't listen, as much as he tried.

jacob's question seemingly shakes the bridge beneath samuel, and for a moment, he ponders over what would happen upon collapse. would they finally find peace in death together, as it should've been the first time around? or would they survive, brush it off and live lives separate from each other for eternity? the breeze welcomes him again, tilting his head up to the night sky. it felt like her. it offered the warmth of her embrace and whispers of reassurance and encouragement. even if her body was before him, her spirit was present. she was here, at his side, just as she was throughout the remainder of centuries. breathing in deeply, he could almost smell her, and it wasn't because her body stood before him. his eyes flutter shut to bask within it, for he wasn't sure she would ever visit him like this again, before emitting a shaky sigh.

it gives away the inner-conflict happening in his mind, how he tried so hard to at least be strong for the remainder of his company, but that it wasn't easy to do so. "yes." he murmurs, finally leaning back against the rail behind him. he only spares his brother a glance, gaze looking away before he could be told to do so by the other male himself. samuel stares straight ahead, collection his lower lip between his teeth as his brows knit together. it's the first time he'd looked back upon that night with her, a night that he never despised until now. he took everything that she had away from her, yet she'd been so understanding. she, too, wanted to find jacob, even though she doubted samuel's belief that he was still alive. that was what kept the two going together. now that they -- no, he -- succeeded, what was there left to his eternity?

"i didn't mean to. the night of the wedding was a full moon, it was my first..." his brows knit together. the memory felt so long ago. "she just happened to be there. even though it was accidental, i knew i wouldn't have been able to do it alone. this." he clarifies, because even now he upheld the same hesitation. how would he be able to live a life alone after years by her side? "how did you...?" become a vampire is what he wanted to ask, but he couldn't say the word. that means that it'd be true, even though there was so much evidence before him already. finally, he shifts his eyes to meet his brothers' own, and he can only be grateful he was able to word his questions, although unaware how many he'd be able to get in.

@❛ sam kiszka for several moments after his brother’s arrival at the bridge, Jake does not speak. he doesn’t allow his eyes to turn to gaze upon his sibling, nor does he allow his features to shift in the slightest. instead, however, golden eyes stare straight ahead, and the water beating against several, jagged rocks as the moonlight created diamonds in the froth. the chaos beneath the bridge was most akin to the battle raged within the vampire, for he was both the charging waves and the unwavering earth.

the wind whips tawny locks about his features, stray tendrils wrapping around his cheek and across his forehead against the strength of the breeze. the night was cold, as most were.

“Don’t,” he murmurs with the slightest shake of his head. he couldn’t accept any gratitude, he wouldn’t. sensing Sam’s hesitation, he takes a couple of steps to his right, hand reaching out to grip a rusted column as he slinks away from his former lover’s body. she belonged with Sam, as she had for the better part of six hundred years.

his eyes finally find his long, lost brother. where did they stand? how much did Sam hate him, now? that is, of course, if he recognized him at all. though Jake had not changed physically, the gentle, smart, loving man he used to be was long since dead and buried. “You turned her yourself, didn’t you?” so many things he wanted to say to his brother, so many questions that still remained unanswered, but this one jumped out before the others could make their way to his lips. it was true he didn’t know much about the lycans and their way of life, for he had killed them, never halting to learn about them. however, beyond the fact that this was Amelia, he wondered if lycan sires held similar bonds to their offspring that vampires did. and if that were true, then in a way, he had killed a part of Sam the moment the light faded from Amelia’s eyes.

the thought brings forward that of his own ward, the only one he’d ever turned: Selena, and how, regardless of how cold and steady he was, he was beginning to understand the ties between them. he couldn’t begin to understand the pain that comes with losing the one you sired, but he knew that if ever he were to experience it, it would surely push him over the edge and send him spiraling into the pit of insanity.

@❛ jacob kiszka nothing had gotten remotely close to "better" since the events at the graveyard.

so many questions had encircled within his mind repetitively upon the anticipation of the scheduled meeting to retrieve amelia from his brother: is this the last time he would see jacob? would he speak with him? and of course, questions of his being: how had he gotten so cold? what happened within his lifetime that made him so? even though samuel had been left traumatized, he still would give his life to protect his brother without a second thought. was he being harmed? tortured? manipulated? he hadn't really educated himself with the vampires' lives and the system upheld within the coven, encouraged to not do specifically by amelia herself. "there is no reason for you to know these things." she would whisper to him as the back of her knuckles would run over his cheek.

and he believed her, for it was true. but none of them really thought through what they were looking for, so focused in on finding his sibling without considering how he would still walk this earth. him being the only enemy of samuel's kind, then, wasn't even an option. they were simply blindsided by the fact, and that they hadn't thought about the possibility of it sooner.

"damn it," he whispers, the tips of his fingers tucked within a pair of black slacks that brush against his ankle with each step taken through the forest and in direction of the manor - a destination demanded he never return to, or anywhere near. "why couldn't we have just gone like this? if i weren't so ing stupid, god." there were many things that samuel didn't know, nor could he assume an answer to, but there was one thing: whatever happened that night, it was all his fault. it was his fault that she was taken from him, the very person that was supposed to keep her safe. it was his fault he couldn't find it within him to murder the death dealer before him earlier. it was his fault that he got scared. nothing of an attack had happened to them in centuries, it was almost as if he wasn't sure how to handle it.

there's a breeze that greets him, causing the faint movement of the black button down he dons; tucked within the waist line of his pants and only buttoned up half way. dressed for a funeral, one would say. his tendrils are tucked within a bun at the back of his head, and although he had no heart, he swears he could feel how it would've been thudding against his ribcage as he nears the bridge. he shouldn't be so scared to face his brother, but he'd already lost amelia. his deceased heart couldn't afford to lose anyone else. especially the someone he'd spent his entire life dedicated to finding. though, luckily the nerves wouldn't be so apparent upon his visage.

his own boots give away his presence as he steps upon the bridge, though keeping his distance. nor does he take her within his arms immediately, for the better of him thought that jacob could have as much time with her as possible. if there was any of the brother that he knew left within him, he knows the fact that he'd taken her life with his own hands was enough to shake him to his core. even if it weren't shown. samuel's jaw clenches at the black sheet and it takes absolutely everything within him to not break down before the older of the two. so he looks away, eyes downcast.

"thank you for bringing her to me."

@❛ sam kiszka “Black never suited you, darling.”

the vampire’s voice was barely a whisper, the ghost of a voice over the deafening sound of rushing water below as he leaned back against the rusted steel of the bridge. the only bridge leading out of Arcani Heights seemed as weathered, damaged by the elements as he. both stood strong against their trauma, but for how long? even the strongest structures, after years of defilement meant, will collapse. he ponders, briefly, whom would fall first: him or the bridge?

one leg outstretched while the other bent at the knee, booted foot planted flat on the railing of the bridge on top of which he balanced, he stared down at the lifeless woman swaddled in black silk. it was a sheet from his bed; of course, he could’ve stolen a dress from one of the manor’s residents, but so many of them only wore /black/. he loathed the sight of his formerly betrothed wearing such a solemn hue, for it was not who she was.

“I’ve always preferred you in white,” he continues, slender and cool digits running along the white lace that adorned her neck. Hana was kind enough to offer the piece to him a while ago, but he deserved not the purity of it. Jake had spent the better half of the night repairing her. first, there was the task of /finding/ her. the vampires had tossed her aside like a piece of garbage, so once he’d located her, he focused his efforts on washing the dirt from her body, careful to scrub every little speck, so that (with the exception of the natural discoloration that comes with the early stages of decomposition) not a speck remains. the next task was the sewing of her head back on. he had been the one to sever it, so the cut was clean enough that the finished product was nowhere near as gruesome as it could’ve been. however, his fingers dip below the fabric that conceals the stitching from sight, to feel the join below.

“I believe you would forgive me for this, you were always such a kind soul. Hate had no place in your heart.” his golden eyes peer down at her countenance; peaceful, regardless of the violence surrounding her death. “I can almost hear your voice now, assuring me that I’m forgiven. However I do not want that from you. I do not deserve it.” his own falls to retrieve her cold hand from the depths of the inky fabric, sliding within hers as he pulls it forward, pressing his lips to her fingers. “I wish you would curse me from the afterlife, instead, hate me with a fury man has never seen. Perhaps, I could live with myself if you loathed me so, if I spent the rest of my days shamed for slaughtering you like an animal.”

her name remains on the tip of his tongue, but it was stuck there, forever forbidden to breach the tight seal of his couplets. he didn’t deserve to speak it, never again. releasing her hand, he tucks it back into the sheet. he never got the chance to thank her, he realizes, for watching over Sam. he was almost certain she had probably kept him out of trouble over the years. “Goodbye, my love.” he whispers, his body sliding from his perch to, instead, stand beside her. as if swaddling should infant, he encases her within the silk, shielding her eyes from him; for she shouldn’t have to overlook a monster.

just in time, he notes, as he senses the approaching lycan that shared his blood.