#is this wdap? is this canon? i dunno but in either case i shall tag it

[margindoodles2407]

more wips for youuuu

@seeking-elsewhither

“Do you have a cigarette?”

“Fox, I don’t think smoking–”

“Do you or do you not have a cigarette?”

His voice is sharp and harsh and clipped and raw. Thorn doesn’t hear that tone often, and when he does it’s nothing good.

So he reaches into the drawer of his desk and pulls out a box. He hasn’t touched it in months, and neither has Fox, but even so it only has one stick left. He pulls it out and hands it to his brother, who puts it in his mouth and produces a lighter from one of the pouches on his belt.

His hands shake so violently that he almost drops it.

With gentle hands, Thorn takes the lighter from Fox and lights the cigarette for him. Fox looks at him reproachfully.

“Shut up. Not gonna let you burn yourself. Or worse, fumble a lit cig and torch the barracks. If you wanna deal with lung cancer down the road, that’s on you.”

Fox takes the first drag. Smoke curls from cracked, chapped lips. He says nothing.

“…Did something happen?” 

(Of course something happened.)

But still, no response. Just another deep, slow drag. He seems to relax, just a little; walks out and over to the open hangar platform and sags against the wall. 

Hesitation. 

Thorn follows him out. Puts a tentative hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t pull away, doesn’t even try to shrug it off. Just sighs, a little. 

(In the brighter light of the planet-city, Thorn can make out the faint, salty residue of long-since-dried tears. Tears shed unwillingly, silently, and alone. He knows better than to pry into their origin.)

And then– Fox brings a shaky hand (oh, his hands never shake) to rest on Thorn’s, and laces their fingers together. Squeezes, gently. There’s a heartbeat, and then he buckles into his brother. Not a sound. Just complete and utter collapse.

And Thorn holds him. 

They stare out into the cityscape in silence.