Parting of Two Brothers
Chapter. 1- Melting Point
Summer used to be one of the household's favorite seasons. At least when Kirby was still a baby and Kes hadn't entered the picture quite yet. Nowadays, it's more of a tolerance.
Tulok is a hardy boy, but he is his mother's son. Stubborn, strong-willed, ready to fight over an insult, and with a health that is woefully subject to the whims of the seasons. They're used to it, mostly. Tulok stays inside where there's air-conditioning, surrounded by ice packs, ill more often than not and in bed most of the time. Nobody likes it and Kirby is keen to visit every few hours to check on him, but they manage until autumn. Tulok is seventeen; they won't have to worry about it much longer when he moves to be with his grandfather in South Nova next year, at least.
But this year is different. This year is balmier than they're used to, and something about it automatically sets Meta Knight on edge. No rain forecasted for a good week, no clouds in the sky. Set to be the warmest on record for at least a good month. There's something...wrong about this year. A sense of foreboding that chews its way through his stomach.
Tulok's unresponsiveness when he goes to check on him in bed one afternoon makes the pieces click into place.
Meta is used to Tulok sleeping through check-ins, but this isn't that. He's...sweaty, he's breathing odd, and his eyes drift from side to side as he tries to take stock in his surroundings before drifting shut again. For a split second, it's all Meta can do just to shake his arm, because the panic that chews its way through his mind won't let him think of any other option.
And then Tulok lets out a noise as if he'd been strangled and something in Meta's throat gives. Hard.
"/Kes/!!"
What happens afterwards is something of a blur. There's shouting, movement, frantic questions and no answers all while Tulok lays feverish and unaware in his bed. Something about a hospital, and between one instant and the next Meta finds himself with an armful of his son and alight on frantic wings, out of the house and high in the warm summer heat, speeding desperately for the hospital that feels too much far away.
He remembers what Arthur had said. About Tulok's life being one of suffering, long ago. Why the words choose to come to his mind now, in the midst of his panic, he doesn't know, doesn't care. But they've never sounded more truthful than right then. They had been controlling it. Everything had been fine and Tulok was moving out next year anyway. Why this. Why now?
He's going to die, some part of him thinks. He was a fool not to think otherwise. But this can't be how it ends. Heatstroke in bed in the prime of Tulok's life when it could have been avoided. This can't be how it ends.
He won't let it. He won't /let it/. His son has been fighting since the day he was born and he knows Tulok won't let this stop him either. Not by a long shot.
The hospital comes into view after what feels like an eternity but in reality is likely only a few minutes, and Meta barely has sense enough to tuck his wings in and alight on the ground before he winds up crashing through the doors. It's quiet, calm, but everyone present freezes and looks up when he shouts just the moment he steps through.
"Help-! I think he's suffering heat stroke--!"
Pop Star is a peaceful place, usually. Nothing bad happens to the citizens and so the hospital doesn't often see use. Still, the nurses are as trained as anywhere else, and in a blur Meta finds his arms bereft as a gurney is wheeled through and nurses start speaking to one another in short order. It happens faster than he can process and he has to bite down hard on the animal urge to clutch Tulok close and strike at anyone who would dare try to steal him.
He needs this. More than anything.
He just hopes he isn't too late.
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There's a thing about the relativity of time. It goes so fast when you aren't paying attention, when you're happy, having fun. When it goes slow, it feels like you're waiting thousands of years when it could be just minutes. When you're impatient, upset, want something gone soon. It's hard to handle.
Meta is good at having patience for things even in the most dire of circumstances, but this feels different. It's like he's lost every semblance of control, every means of keeping himself calm in the worst of circumstances. He's sitting on a little plastic chair in a hospital waiting room and he is dying.
That Kes joins him eventually, quiet, stoic but no less panicked is a balm. Her hand on his own, cool to the touch, soothes the edge that gnaws its way through his stomach and threatens to break the dam, and he squeezes back harder than he has in his life.
They wait. For eternity, he thinks, although it can't have been longer than an hour. She whispers something to him, something about Kirby, and his breath hitches because Kirby, oh no, Kirby, his boy-- What is he going to /think--/
The front doors slam open, banging against the walls and Meta is sure he hears the sound of glass cracking. He about jumps out of his skin, whirling to look over at the figure of Kirby stomping his way over, wings high and ruffled and an expression that is nothing less than a kind of enraged terror on his face. Meta knows he isn't mad anyone. He's scared. He's afraid. But there's a chill that runs down his spine and he resists the urge to tuck his wings back in shame. It's his fault.
"Is Tulok okay!?" Almost yelling, Kirby is a force to be reckoned with, all thorns and no comfort and Meta doesn't blame him. "I came as soon as I heard-- Have they said anything? How long as he been there? What's going /on/--"
"Kirby," Kes' voice is calm and cold, but there's no mistaking the edge in her tone. "Stop. Calm down. We don't know what's happened yet. The doctor hasn't come out since your father brought Tulok in. We suspect heat stroke, but..."
"I..."
Meta reaches out to take the boy - a man but still his /boy/ - by the hand but Kirby draws back, turning to pace and vent his frustrations the only way he can. He wishes he could do something. Everything is falling apart and Arthur was right. His fault. His fault.
"Hey." Kes squeezes his hand, a trembling smile on her face. "Tulok's strong. We all know that. We just need to wait..."
It's easier said than done. Kirby's hysteric glance towards her says as much. but Meta nods, difficult as it is, because he has no other choice.
And then the door opens, and the doctor comes out, and Meta sees that expression on his face and knows something has happened.
-------------------
Organ failure. That's what it is.
The good doctor is slow and careful with his words, aware of three sets of eyes pinned to his back, but he doesn't shy away from the facts. The warm weather has affected Tulok's body in such a way that, essentially, it can't handle it anymore. Signs of heat stroke, yes, which only exacerbated the problem, because the body couldn't regulate its temperature any longer and began to enter shut down. They're lucky Meta made it so quickly.
"Is he...?"
"He's stable, for now. It took a lot to keep everything from shutting down, but fortunately most everything is as it should be, including the brain and heart."
"Most." Kirby's voice comes flat.
The doctor sighs. "His kidneys didn't make it. They were first to shut down, and by the time he got here, there was nothing we could have done. Without a transplant, or extensive medical care, I'm afraid that--"
"I'll donate."
The words are out of Meta's mouth before he realizes it, before he realizes he's even stood up to face the doctor head on. It's his fault. For making Tulok suffer this way, for making him stay on Pop Star as long as he has. If he had been less stubborn, if he had listened, none of this would have happened.
He's not going to let his boy suffer for his father's mistakes. Not anymore.
But the doctor shakes his head and Meta feels something cold in the pit of his stomach. "We already tested your compatibility, and unfortunately you aren't a match. Neither is missus Kes."
The pit in his stomach turns into a void. "So he's... He's--"
"After checking the databases, unfortunately, there is only one match that I am aware of." And the doctor just looks, quietly, pointedly at Kirby's direction.
And Meta feels like he's going to throw up.
When his boys were born, he had always sworn that he would give up his life before anything could happen to them. Nothing would happen, no matter how powerful Kirby grew or how well he could take care of himself, because at the end of the day Kirby was his and Kes' boy, just like Tulok was. They would die for him, for /them/, so they could both live their lives to the fullest.
And now NOVA seemed so keen on punishing him for his mistakes that both of them had to suffer regardless.
And Kirby just looks so confident. Like the decision is a no-brainer. As if the doctor would even need to ask.
"I'll do it."
And that, of all things, is what makes Meta crumble for the first time. Tears running down his face, breath hitching with sobs that he tries to swallow but can't, he's reduced to a mess and his wife, she can't hold it either. That icy facade melts as though it weren't there at all and she cries right with him, as much a puddle of grief as he is.
The doctor is quiet, and so is Kirby, standing in front of them now and with no words to say that could possibly make the burden lighter. He's been through more than they have. Fought kings, monsters, and gods alike. A kidney transplant isn't a big deal to him, but to them...
"It'll be okay..." And he takes them into a hug with a voice soft enough that he sounds half like a child again, and they only cry harder. He lets them.
-------------------------
They don't expect Tulok to be awake when they go to visit him, but there he is. Awake and immobile among the machines that surround him, and unfortunately familiar sight.
He looks terrible but nobody says it, just drawing chairs up for the parents to sit as close to him as possible. Kirby stands at his other side, a confident smile on his face that he hopes exudes some degree of comfort. It's the first time something of this magnitude has happened to him and he doesn't want his little brother scared.
And with him immobile, barely able to speak but for a small greeting, his parents explain. How they found him unresponsive in bed, how he had been rushed to the hospital. How his organs began to fail, and how they were stabilized. And how he was going to need a kidney transplant.
How Kirby was the only matching donor they had, and Tulok hears the implication thick in their words.
They don't expect him to be able to sit. They don't expect him to be able to /talk/. But Tulok is as stubborn as his mother and never takes no for an answer no matter the odds, so it shouldn't be a surprise when they find him grappling to prop himself up, his voice coming through with a tremble, scared and irate.
"No!"
His parents jump. Kirby doesn't. "No?"
"I won't let you!" He sounds like he's gasping for air, like he's three seconds from suffocating, but he pushes on because when has that ever mattered to him? "I won't-- I can't let you! For something like this? It's not a big deal, Kirby! Don't! Don't waste something like that on /me--/!"
And Kirby just, smiles. Throughout the whole thing. As Tulok spirals into something like panic, rambling, threatening, begging him not to go through with it, because he isn't good enough and he'll recover on his own. Because he will be just fine without it. Because he isn't worth it.
"Tulok."
And Tulok goes quiet.
Kirby is quiet with him, to let them both calm down. Taking a deep breath and letting it out before chuckling and closing his eyes with a shake of his head. "You always were so feisty, the moment you were born. You know that? Even when you had to be put in an incubator in an emergency room, surrounded by nurses and all kinds of equipment, your lungs could have cracked the walls. I remember that very clearly. And when I saw you the first time, I knew you were going to make it. Always did. That's who you are, Tulok. I couldn't have been prouder."
He slips over to Tulok's side opposite of their parents, reaching out to card one hand through his hair before it slides down to take the other's hand in a firm grip. "Tulok. Baby brother. There is /nothing/ I wouldn't do for you. You've always made me happy even when there were days I couldn't imagine anything but lying in my bed and hoping NOVA would take me. You've always been there for me, just by existing. Always looking up to that big brother, always wanting to play, always happy. You don't know how much that means to me. You're the brightest light in this galaxy, always saving me even when I might not have noticed. Do you know that?
So it's my turn now, to save you! Because you're my brother and I /love you/. And nothing could ever convince me otherwise."
He doesn't look at his parents. He just looks at Tulok, at the wavering expression on his face as he stares at him, something incredibly fragile in those eyes of his. It's silent for a long moment, filled with the memories of times good and bad and words that come from the heart. Tulok's hand tightens imperceptibly around Kirby's own.
"Thank you..."
And the dam breaks. In a fit of hoarse tears and body-wracking shivers, Tulok leaning forward for a hug that Kirby is too glad to sweep him into, wings and all, and the entire time his gratitude spills from his mouth. He thanks him endlessly, and he never once needed to, but Kirby lets him anyway, burying his face into Tulok's hair so that he can finally let go of the tears he had been holding back since the news came.
They'll be okay.
Tulok is a hardy boy, but he is his mother's son. Stubborn, strong-willed, ready to fight over an insult, and with a health that is woefully subject to the whims of the seasons. They're used to it, mostly. Tulok stays inside where there's air-conditioning, surrounded by ice packs, ill more often than not and in bed most of the time. Nobody likes it and Kirby is keen to visit every few hours to check on him, but they manage until autumn. Tulok is seventeen; they won't have to worry about it much longer when he moves to be with his grandfather in South Nova next year, at least.
But this year is different. This year is balmier than they're used to, and something about it automatically sets Meta Knight on edge. No rain forecasted for a good week, no clouds in the sky. Set to be the warmest on record for at least a good month. There's something...wrong about this year. A sense of foreboding that chews its way through his stomach.
Tulok's unresponsiveness when he goes to check on him in bed one afternoon makes the pieces click into place.
Meta is used to Tulok sleeping through check-ins, but this isn't that. He's...sweaty, he's breathing odd, and his eyes drift from side to side as he tries to take stock in his surroundings before drifting shut again. For a split second, it's all Meta can do just to shake his arm, because the panic that chews its way through his mind won't let him think of any other option.
And then Tulok lets out a noise as if he'd been strangled and something in Meta's throat gives. Hard.
"/Kes/!!"
What happens afterwards is something of a blur. There's shouting, movement, frantic questions and no answers all while Tulok lays feverish and unaware in his bed. Something about a hospital, and between one instant and the next Meta finds himself with an armful of his son and alight on frantic wings, out of the house and high in the warm summer heat, speeding desperately for the hospital that feels too much far away.
He remembers what Arthur had said. About Tulok's life being one of suffering, long ago. Why the words choose to come to his mind now, in the midst of his panic, he doesn't know, doesn't care. But they've never sounded more truthful than right then. They had been controlling it. Everything had been fine and Tulok was moving out next year anyway. Why this. Why now?
He's going to die, some part of him thinks. He was a fool not to think otherwise. But this can't be how it ends. Heatstroke in bed in the prime of Tulok's life when it could have been avoided. This can't be how it ends.
He won't let it. He won't /let it/. His son has been fighting since the day he was born and he knows Tulok won't let this stop him either. Not by a long shot.
The hospital comes into view after what feels like an eternity but in reality is likely only a few minutes, and Meta barely has sense enough to tuck his wings in and alight on the ground before he winds up crashing through the doors. It's quiet, calm, but everyone present freezes and looks up when he shouts just the moment he steps through.
"Help-! I think he's suffering heat stroke--!"
Pop Star is a peaceful place, usually. Nothing bad happens to the citizens and so the hospital doesn't often see use. Still, the nurses are as trained as anywhere else, and in a blur Meta finds his arms bereft as a gurney is wheeled through and nurses start speaking to one another in short order. It happens faster than he can process and he has to bite down hard on the animal urge to clutch Tulok close and strike at anyone who would dare try to steal him.
He needs this. More than anything.
He just hopes he isn't too late.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
There's a thing about the relativity of time. It goes so fast when you aren't paying attention, when you're happy, having fun. When it goes slow, it feels like you're waiting thousands of years when it could be just minutes. When you're impatient, upset, want something gone soon. It's hard to handle.
Meta is good at having patience for things even in the most dire of circumstances, but this feels different. It's like he's lost every semblance of control, every means of keeping himself calm in the worst of circumstances. He's sitting on a little plastic chair in a hospital waiting room and he is dying.
That Kes joins him eventually, quiet, stoic but no less panicked is a balm. Her hand on his own, cool to the touch, soothes the edge that gnaws its way through his stomach and threatens to break the dam, and he squeezes back harder than he has in his life.
They wait. For eternity, he thinks, although it can't have been longer than an hour. She whispers something to him, something about Kirby, and his breath hitches because Kirby, oh no, Kirby, his boy-- What is he going to /think--/
The front doors slam open, banging against the walls and Meta is sure he hears the sound of glass cracking. He about jumps out of his skin, whirling to look over at the figure of Kirby stomping his way over, wings high and ruffled and an expression that is nothing less than a kind of enraged terror on his face. Meta knows he isn't mad anyone. He's scared. He's afraid. But there's a chill that runs down his spine and he resists the urge to tuck his wings back in shame. It's his fault.
"Is Tulok okay!?" Almost yelling, Kirby is a force to be reckoned with, all thorns and no comfort and Meta doesn't blame him. "I came as soon as I heard-- Have they said anything? How long as he been there? What's going /on/--"
"Kirby," Kes' voice is calm and cold, but there's no mistaking the edge in her tone. "Stop. Calm down. We don't know what's happened yet. The doctor hasn't come out since your father brought Tulok in. We suspect heat stroke, but..."
"I..."
Meta reaches out to take the boy - a man but still his /boy/ - by the hand but Kirby draws back, turning to pace and vent his frustrations the only way he can. He wishes he could do something. Everything is falling apart and Arthur was right. His fault. His fault.
"Hey." Kes squeezes his hand, a trembling smile on her face. "Tulok's strong. We all know that. We just need to wait..."
It's easier said than done. Kirby's hysteric glance towards her says as much. but Meta nods, difficult as it is, because he has no other choice.
And then the door opens, and the doctor comes out, and Meta sees that expression on his face and knows something has happened.
-------------------
Organ failure. That's what it is.
The good doctor is slow and careful with his words, aware of three sets of eyes pinned to his back, but he doesn't shy away from the facts. The warm weather has affected Tulok's body in such a way that, essentially, it can't handle it anymore. Signs of heat stroke, yes, which only exacerbated the problem, because the body couldn't regulate its temperature any longer and began to enter shut down. They're lucky Meta made it so quickly.
"Is he...?"
"He's stable, for now. It took a lot to keep everything from shutting down, but fortunately most everything is as it should be, including the brain and heart."
"Most." Kirby's voice comes flat.
The doctor sighs. "His kidneys didn't make it. They were first to shut down, and by the time he got here, there was nothing we could have done. Without a transplant, or extensive medical care, I'm afraid that--"
"I'll donate."
The words are out of Meta's mouth before he realizes it, before he realizes he's even stood up to face the doctor head on. It's his fault. For making Tulok suffer this way, for making him stay on Pop Star as long as he has. If he had been less stubborn, if he had listened, none of this would have happened.
He's not going to let his boy suffer for his father's mistakes. Not anymore.
But the doctor shakes his head and Meta feels something cold in the pit of his stomach. "We already tested your compatibility, and unfortunately you aren't a match. Neither is missus Kes."
The pit in his stomach turns into a void. "So he's... He's--"
"After checking the databases, unfortunately, there is only one match that I am aware of." And the doctor just looks, quietly, pointedly at Kirby's direction.
And Meta feels like he's going to throw up.
When his boys were born, he had always sworn that he would give up his life before anything could happen to them. Nothing would happen, no matter how powerful Kirby grew or how well he could take care of himself, because at the end of the day Kirby was his and Kes' boy, just like Tulok was. They would die for him, for /them/, so they could both live their lives to the fullest.
And now NOVA seemed so keen on punishing him for his mistakes that both of them had to suffer regardless.
And Kirby just looks so confident. Like the decision is a no-brainer. As if the doctor would even need to ask.
"I'll do it."
And that, of all things, is what makes Meta crumble for the first time. Tears running down his face, breath hitching with sobs that he tries to swallow but can't, he's reduced to a mess and his wife, she can't hold it either. That icy facade melts as though it weren't there at all and she cries right with him, as much a puddle of grief as he is.
The doctor is quiet, and so is Kirby, standing in front of them now and with no words to say that could possibly make the burden lighter. He's been through more than they have. Fought kings, monsters, and gods alike. A kidney transplant isn't a big deal to him, but to them...
"It'll be okay..." And he takes them into a hug with a voice soft enough that he sounds half like a child again, and they only cry harder. He lets them.
-------------------------
They don't expect Tulok to be awake when they go to visit him, but there he is. Awake and immobile among the machines that surround him, and unfortunately familiar sight.
He looks terrible but nobody says it, just drawing chairs up for the parents to sit as close to him as possible. Kirby stands at his other side, a confident smile on his face that he hopes exudes some degree of comfort. It's the first time something of this magnitude has happened to him and he doesn't want his little brother scared.
And with him immobile, barely able to speak but for a small greeting, his parents explain. How they found him unresponsive in bed, how he had been rushed to the hospital. How his organs began to fail, and how they were stabilized. And how he was going to need a kidney transplant.
How Kirby was the only matching donor they had, and Tulok hears the implication thick in their words.
They don't expect him to be able to sit. They don't expect him to be able to /talk/. But Tulok is as stubborn as his mother and never takes no for an answer no matter the odds, so it shouldn't be a surprise when they find him grappling to prop himself up, his voice coming through with a tremble, scared and irate.
"No!"
His parents jump. Kirby doesn't. "No?"
"I won't let you!" He sounds like he's gasping for air, like he's three seconds from suffocating, but he pushes on because when has that ever mattered to him? "I won't-- I can't let you! For something like this? It's not a big deal, Kirby! Don't! Don't waste something like that on /me--/!"
And Kirby just, smiles. Throughout the whole thing. As Tulok spirals into something like panic, rambling, threatening, begging him not to go through with it, because he isn't good enough and he'll recover on his own. Because he will be just fine without it. Because he isn't worth it.
"Tulok."
And Tulok goes quiet.
Kirby is quiet with him, to let them both calm down. Taking a deep breath and letting it out before chuckling and closing his eyes with a shake of his head. "You always were so feisty, the moment you were born. You know that? Even when you had to be put in an incubator in an emergency room, surrounded by nurses and all kinds of equipment, your lungs could have cracked the walls. I remember that very clearly. And when I saw you the first time, I knew you were going to make it. Always did. That's who you are, Tulok. I couldn't have been prouder."
He slips over to Tulok's side opposite of their parents, reaching out to card one hand through his hair before it slides down to take the other's hand in a firm grip. "Tulok. Baby brother. There is /nothing/ I wouldn't do for you. You've always made me happy even when there were days I couldn't imagine anything but lying in my bed and hoping NOVA would take me. You've always been there for me, just by existing. Always looking up to that big brother, always wanting to play, always happy. You don't know how much that means to me. You're the brightest light in this galaxy, always saving me even when I might not have noticed. Do you know that?
So it's my turn now, to save you! Because you're my brother and I /love you/. And nothing could ever convince me otherwise."
He doesn't look at his parents. He just looks at Tulok, at the wavering expression on his face as he stares at him, something incredibly fragile in those eyes of his. It's silent for a long moment, filled with the memories of times good and bad and words that come from the heart. Tulok's hand tightens imperceptibly around Kirby's own.
"Thank you..."
And the dam breaks. In a fit of hoarse tears and body-wracking shivers, Tulok leaning forward for a hug that Kirby is too glad to sweep him into, wings and all, and the entire time his gratitude spills from his mouth. He thanks him endlessly, and he never once needed to, but Kirby lets him anyway, burying his face into Tulok's hair so that he can finally let go of the tears he had been holding back since the news came.
They'll be okay.
End >>
Artist Comment:
Date: N/A
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The amaaaaaazing literature written for this illustration was commissioned by my good friend, Dogblog. (dA- Shadowrealmprincess) ^v^
Date: N/A
-----------------
The amaaaaaazing literature written for this illustration was commissioned by my good friend, Dogblog. (dA- Shadowrealmprincess) ^v^
Species © Nintendo/ HAL Laboratory
Interpreted characters created from said species © Rhylem
Interpreted characters created from said species © Rhylem
