The 'stay' rose every defiant bone in Bifrosts body.
Stay.
He wanted to snarl back, but the throbbing empty feeling in his chest was too much and instead of staying he got up and followed slowly behind. Afraid. Afraid of the whispers in the trees. Afraid of the animals that kept looking at him with eyes that knew and expressions he could read. The trees whispered again but he moved is palms back up to his ears to block out the voices. It wasn't until he got to the clearing and saw that the metallic tang of blood reached his nose.
At first it was just a sad sight.
What had these people done to deserve this? Then he noticed the hair. The builds. Bifrost stared in horror, tears filled his eyes again and he shook his head in denial, eyes darting to Kirkley hunched over... "Brendan!" Bifrost shouted, moving to collapse to his knees beside his brother. The middle kid. All of them were older than he was but, Brendan had been the middle of the blond batch of kids and had always been Bifrosts favourite to talk to.
"Frost," He sighed, blue eyes bright with pain. Bifrost moved his hand over to Kirkley's hand, moving it to one of the smaller wounds. They just needed to keep the blood in right?
"Brendan, what happened?" Bifrost whimpered, alarmed and hurt and why was this happening?
"We were stupid," He winced, voice soft, eyes closing, "Turns out s'mone had a bounty on us." He squeezed his eyes shut, a lance of pain cutting through his gut, "Took mom'n'dad's rings." Branden reached a bloodied hand up to Bifrost to cup his cheek, "Sorry, Little Brother," he sighed, stroking his thumb down Bifrosts cheek and he gave a helpless smile, "We didn't want to leave you alone."
But the hand went lax and Bifrost held the bloodied hand to his cheek for a few minutes longer. Shock made him numb, made his breathing even and his chest tight. Bifrost let the hand drop and he shuffled away, shaking his head in disbelief. This was a bad dream. It wasn't real. Kirkley was a figment of his imagination. He fell off the cliff and died and this was all just a bad dream.
"Kirkley?" He whimpered out, staring at the other man, waiting for him to drop dead or leave or disappear. A struggle to swallow and he backed away from the clearing and his brothers bodies, the scent of their blood. It wasn't until he backed into a tree that he turned around and all he felt was white hot rage. His fist connected with the bark, and it wasn't until his hand was bloody and numb that he cradled his hand in his lap and slid down, pressing his forehead to the three.
"What am I now," he sighed, more to himself than anything. What was an adopted kid without a family? A double orphan? He wasn't a kid, sure but... Bifrost felt tiny. He felt like a little boy and he pressed his good hand to his face and tried not to cry. It wasn't until he felt something strange brush the back of his hand that he looked down, and where his blood had dripped grew flowers.
Beautiful white flowers. Where his blood had been on the tree were tiny new branches growing, begging for sunlight. "Oh, come the fuck on, World, I've had enough shit for one day," he growled at the flower under his bleeding hand before he viciously ripped it out of the earth.