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Adam leaned back against his pillows, eyes glazing over the book in his hand.
He’d lost his place in the maze of characters yet again - was this fake nobleman the illegitimate son? One of the former villains? Some external complication… A brother? Had there been a brother?
It was hopeless to try and restore his attention now, hopeless to continue the game of self-distraction when only productive action could satisfy him - and he’d been forbidden from acting.
He put the novel aside, suppressing the impulse to vent his frustration on the innocent by throwing it.
Just sitting here, pretending it was like any other night, when in the morning…
Death he understood. It terrified him, stalked his past and haunted a mind always anticipating the future, but it was a concrete fact that worked through comprehensible methods.
This strange mental destruction, though…
His brother’s vanished memory tore cruelly at his own which couldn’t forget, bringing back images from two years previously.
Someone he cared for glancing at him with the eyes of a stranger, seeing one of the nameless masses, insensible to the affection that should have been mirrored…
And he remembered how that struggle had ended, comforting a friend dying at his own hand. If the price of Hoss’ salvation would be that high, maybe his father was right after all?
No reason to believe the cases were at all the same, but what did even doctors know about it? Ross had seemed fine until he hadn’t, and nobody had known anything that might have helped save prayer…
Adam’s mistake then had been waiting, thinking time might do its healing work if he gave it the chance.
Just like he was waiting now-
A rush of hope as the door opened slumped back, thwarted, when it was his younger brother who walked in.
Joe flopped onto the bed without waiting for acknowledgement, catching Adam’s eye only briefly before he bent his head in silent misery, feelings too strong to speak easily and too clear to need saying.
“Can’t sleep either, huh?”
Stating the obvious, perhaps, but sometimes the obvious was a necessary precursor to the important.
The ball of emotion uncurled slightly, glancing up just far enough to acknowledge its brother’s overture.
“How’m I supposed to sleep with Hoss goin’ off to Michigan and us not even allowed to say goodbye?”
“I don’t know.” Adam admitted. “I thought maybe working in the barn together would help, just acting naturally with familiar people… The only thing I know for sure is that we need time, and-”
“And we’re not gonna get any.” It didn’t take brotherly intuition to complete the thought.
Joe shifted position again. He often struggled to meet Adam’s eyes when in distress, but this time green-hazel fixed on blue-hazel as though nothing else stood a chance of calming him.
“I can’t understand what Pa’s thinking. How can he just go along with this? How does he expect us to?”
Adam twisted to sit beside Joe rather than orthogonal to him. He’d asked himself the same question during those hours intended for reading, and the answer he’d come up with was less than comforting.
“I think… He’s so caught up in worrying about his son, he’s forgotten this is also about our brother. You know how Pa gets sometimes, when there’s trouble…”
More of a flinch than a nod, really. Head bowed again, lips vibrating with a slow, intentional breath.
“So where does that leave us? I mean, we can’t just- just let that woman take him, can we? I- someone who’s prepared to take a sick man from people who love him because she’s lonely, who knows what else she might be capable of if it suited her? Honestly, if she weren’t a woman, I’d…”
“I know how you feel.” Adam hoped his tone conveyed supportive more than morose.
He paused to think further before actually answering the question - after all, the idea he was about to voice came very near flat rebellion against parental wishes, however justified that rebellion might be. Not for the first time, of course, and perhaps never for higher stakes…
“You know… Pa said we had to let Hoss go with the Vandervorts, but he never mentioned anything about us not followin’ along for a bit…”
“You know, I don’t think he did…”
Joe’s voice was contemplative, lacking the verbal smirk he might normally have paired with that statement.
His next words did become sharper, but not less dejected.
“And what then? What’ll that get us, if Hoss still doesn’t remember and they won’t help him to?”
“Then… we’ll be closer to a solution, at least.” Funny how speaking with hope you didn’t feel almost made things actually seem brighter.
Adam yawned, the reflex jolting back memory: of just how long it had been since he’d “gone to bed”, and how little time must remain until the morning.
And until whatever the morning would bring, what would have to be faced or forestalled…
He tapped Joe’s shoulder, with slightly more force than a casual show of affection required.
“Look, whatever we decide to do about it, you’ll be no good to anyone without a decent night’s sleep, hmm?”
“All right.” Joe muttered, slowly pulling himself off the bed and out of the room.
He turned back in the doorway, a final question sounding less nonchalant than it was likely meant to.
“You’re never gonna run off and forget about me, are you?”
Adam gave a good-natured scoff. “You wouldn’t last a day without me.”
He lay back under the blanket as the door swung closed, leaving only a decrescendo of footsteps outside (Joe had never quite achieved his skill at moving silently).
It had to be past two in the morning, and the Vandervorts were sure to want an early start…
Well, there was still time. He’d sleep, or think of something, or both.
And, whatever happened, he wouldn’t forget.