The balance had been off for a while. There had been both silence and fights, leaving tense moments at both the house and gates. The two knew it was getting to the others but they couldn't find it in themselves to care anymore. When this had started, they did not know or maybe they had just forgotten. They didn't know anymore.
"Why can't you just look me in the eyes for one goddamn second?" Morris felt a small spark of guilt flicker in his chest as he saw his younger brother flinch but right now, he couldn't care. He didn't know what he had done to deserve the silent treatment from the only person he cared for.
"I can't do this anymore Mo...I just can't do it!" Oscar ran a hand through his hair, wincing as it got caught on a knot. "I can't fucking do this! All the fighting and shit! It ain't helping anything! You're always yelling and I'm always yelling back!"
"What the hell do you mean by that huh? What does that mean? Are you not happy to be my brother anymore? Is that it?"
"I never fucking said that! All I said was I can't take the fighting and now you're taking it out of context like always! Stop playing the fucking victim all the time!"
Morris knew that the argument was going too far but he found himself unable to stop. Hell, he didn't know what had started it in the first place. Clenching his jaw, he stepped closer.
"Get out of my face!"
"Or what? You going to punch me. Go ahead! Fucking take a shot!"
Never one to step down from a challenge, Oscar threw his fist without a single noise, finding a sick joy at the sound of his fist finding it's mark. Joy in seeing blood drip from his older brother's nose as he stumbled back.
Morris didn't know he had moved until he saw his younger brother's crumpled form on the kitchen floor, his own hand stinging, turning a red that perfectly matched the red forming on Oscar's cheek. "O-Ozzie? Oscar? Shit!" He knelt down in a panic, unable to bare the sight of his unconscious brother.
He was never one to cry but knowing he was the cause behind this made him tear up. A boy he had promised to protect from the world was now unmoving in his arms. All he was glad for was the sight of a chest moving up and down. Sure there were times where they'd do things like this but they never went for the face. Punches went for arms and legs and were never hard enough to leave nothing but a bruise and silence...They had never knocked each other out. They never wanted to act like their father and leave each other laying on the ground.
It was only when he felt slight stickiness on his hands that he realized that he had once again underestimated his strength. Red was starting to decorate his hands and the floor, a familiar smell slowly filling the air. Blood. He was bleeding. He had caused this. All because of some stupid words.
"Please...Please wake up Oscar. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it." He hugged him close. "Just wake up...Please."