Mik followed, using his inner senses to locate his brother. His own heart pounded, twinned the fear that Ric felt; but his mind held it in check within himself. He knew as he felt that the dark closed in on Ric until he didn't know where he was or who he was. He could barely breathe. He didn't even remember curling up against the tunnel's wall with his arms over his head and all he knew was what a weakling he was for being afraid of the dark. Ric sobbed, barely held back, providing a sound for Mik to catch with sensitive hearing that grew the more closely he drew near.
When he found him, a flooding sense of relief overcame Mik and he fell to his knees beside Ric. He was angry, despite his relief and grabbed the trembling shoulders before him. Ric’s eyes were so wide as he looked up that the whites could be seen surrounding the pupils that faintly glowed in the dark. "Go away ..." he whispered, shuddering in his brother's grip.
"What's the matter with you?" He said, though that was definitely not what he had intended to say. He shook his brother. "There are places down here even I haven't mapped! If you went beyond the markers -- even if I found you I might not be able to get us back!"
Touch, connection … The words Mik spoke were thick in his ears and his own answer sounded lost on his tongue it was so soft … swallowed by the dark ... the damn dark. "I ... Oh gods, Mik. I can't breathe." He didn't want to hear that they could be lost … stuck down here ... no way out ... it only fueled the panic's flames higher.
Breathless, hands on Ric’s shoulders, Mik said, "Okay ... it's okay ..." Mik pulled Ric’s gun from his belt. He held it a second as if he had no idea what to do with it. He'd had no use for guns all this time he'd been underground. No need at all …
A litany poured softly from Ric’s lips: "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry ..."
"I'll take care of you ... it'll be okay. Okay?" Mik said, not hearing, stuffing the gun, safety on, back into Ric's holster. The apology finally struck him ... the fear fell back before the confession, just a bit. More softly, he said, "It's okay, Ric. It's okay." He slid his hands under his twin's shoulders and lifted him gently.
"Gods ... I'm so sorry ..." What was he apologizing for ... holding a gun on his brother? Jumping from the roof? Just being born? He didn't say. It didn't matter.
"It's okay. Don't worry about it."
Ricohh was shaky on his feet and leaned heavily against his brother. He was still whispering his apologies, and Mik frowned. If he kept it up it was bound to become annoying. Mik pulled Ric against him, one arm around him, and looked casually at the wall to find his markers. Any of them. Something. He swallowed. There weren't any visible. Ric was barely more than dead weight. His trust was fully in Mik to find the way out. About all he could do was to focus on just getting his legs to move.
Mik cleared his throat and pulled Ric along for several yards. When he thought what he saw was familiar, he kept looking until he came upon a junction that was clearly marked in softly phosphorescent letters. He let go the breath he'd been holding and let his eyes take in the marks made by his own hand. Each set of code was complex, indicating when he'd first passed here and where it lead. Mik nodded, aware at last of where they were. He could feel that the physical contact he was giving Ric was providing the grounding his brother needed. Ric’s breathing had slowed to a more normal pace with Mik's presence solid to him in the darkness.
"This way ..." Mik murmured. He wasn't going to make Ric endure any more of this. He headed for the surface. "Not far now."
Ric began to walk on his own. As soon as he was away from the supporting embrace of brother's arm he found himself at once confused again by the paths Mik was taking. "Where are we going?" There was the slightest hitch in his voice.
They walked a goodly distance, always on an upward slope. Outside, came the belated answer. And, good to that word, the cool, constant breezes of the tunnels gave way to the pollen filled night air. It rushed past them from where the Deep Dark sucked it down into it's depths, cooled it, collected it and condensed it in the distant places where drips of water were.
Ricohh turned his face into the breeze and subtly pulled away from his twin walking a little straighter, a little faster. A hesitant smile flickered over his mouth as he left his brother. He was hot for the outside, the hazy sky and the lurid glow of Axann. It was so hard not to bolt out and leave Mik behind, even with the panic that only that closeness between them had alleviated.
Mik's own steps slowed. He drifted along behind until he came to a stop, meters from the naturally camouflaged exit. The world without was always so much bigger ... so much beyond his control that the tunnels seem ... safe. Staying down below eased the pain of losing. The very reason he was there in the first place had faded with the separation of time and depth; but, when he came close again to the surface, it all rushed back – that last battle. Every scar where bullets had hit him stung as if they were freshly opened. Somewhere in the recesses of his mind he heard his own Commander shout his name and then the ghostly voice grew silent.
A twinge of his own sort of panic rushed through him that Ric again was going out into that very, very dangerous place. "Be careful. Next time we meet ... it'll be ... out there." He watched as Ric faded into a shadow form of himself.
His twin turned, silhouetted against the comparative glare from the outside. "Yeah. It'll be okay," the shadow said. They wondered at this litany they'd adopted, as if anything was okay or ever could be on their world.
Ricohh hesitated, hovering between two desires. Visibly, he steeled himself and rushed back into the tunnel to scoop his brother in a fierce embrace. A soft exhale of air met the hug and then Mik's arms were around him tightly; Mik's strong hands were splayed against a back that looked too smooth beneath the street punk clothes to be as taut with corded muscle as it felt. Mik's face was buried in his shoulder. With a grumbled chuckle, Ric said, "I'm gonna kick your ass next time I see you, Mik." He ran a soothing stroke against Mik's stubbly scalp.
"Like Hell."
Ric pulled away and scrambled toward the opening. "Be careful," he said, then he was free.
Mik smiled until he was gone, then, for the briefest of insane moments, Mik wondered if he had ever even existed.
