8. We can do everything, besides living...

"You cheated," Desmond exclaimed, completely sure of his statement.

"I did no such thing, you are just a bad player," Altair HAD cheated, but he didn't need for Desmond to know. Let the teenager figure out his tricks on his own.

"I bet you manipulated the dice somehow," the teenager grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest and looking pointedly away.

The older of the two could not help but chuckle at the cute sight, which earned him an evil glare that did not help to make Desmond look more intimidating, quite the opposite actually.

"And how am I supposed to do that?" Altair too leaned away from the board game, which they had played, with a raised eyebrow and with his arms crossed, mimicking his younger brother.

"You made one side of the dice heavier."

The boy is good, though I wonder why he knows such things.

"Alright, alright, you caught me," the golden eyed male held his arms up in surrender. "But you are still a lousy player... and here I thought that there is no skill needed to play Parcheesi," he chuckled to himself.

Desmond huffed in response, he was still sporting that ridiculous pout. Then, his expression turned mischievously and before Altair had figured out what was happening, he found himself pinned to the ground, with Desmond sitting on top of him. It warmed the older male to see his brother so open with physical contact. He remembered the incident from a few days ago, when he had pulled the boy close and he had gotten all tense and defensive. That shy boy was gone now, at least with him. It was truly a good feeling to see how far they had already come.

Altair blinked up at his half-brother, before tilting his head back and laughing. He found Desmond joining in. It took them a while to calm down again, but neither minded really and the young Miles had yet to move off of his brother.

"Now what?" Altair dared to challenge. They both knew that he could easily escape if he really wanted to. He didn't, so he remained utterly still, watching and observing. Every movement and every reaction of the teenager was analyzed and mentally written down for later.

"I don't know, I didn't expect this to work... or you to remain still," he admitted, a little shyly, while avoiding the golden and penetrating eyes of Altair.

"Never had someone pinned beneath you, did you?" Desmond shook his head at the good guess. Altair was not sure about his next question, but he steeled himself and asked them anyway. "Did you ever had to defend yourself in the past?"

The trouble and fear that appeared in brown eyes was answer enough. All of a sudden, without any warning, Desmond jumped to his feet and ran out of the room. A door was slammed shut and without going to check, Altair knew that his brother had run outside, most likely without keys and without his jacket.

Golden eyes shut and their owner took a few deep breathes. He had known that he was scratching on a sensitive topic, but at some point, they needed to cross that line. Desmond needed to open up eventually, it was not healthy to carry such things around with yourself.

I was too forward. Altair mentally scolded himself. He now knew why his brother had problems with physical contact. It was also clear why Desmond was afraid of making mistakes. Altair shook his head and pushed himself into a sitting position, bedding his chin on his knees.

"But who did this to him?" it was the question that the young man had asked himself multiple times already. The signs of physical abuse were clear, the boy's fear and isolation was prove enough, as well as the unhealthy distrust, but it was still terrible.

Another sigh escaped the golden eyed man. He was thinking about consulting a psychologist. He was not sure if his charge would be open to see, let alone talk to a stranger, but perhaps he himself could get a few useful tips on how to handle a traumatized teenager, who probably just earned for someone he could trust and love, without fear.

"Oh Desmond," he stood up completely now and slowly moved towards the front door. On his way, he grabbed his and his brother's keys, as well as both their jackets. It was rather cold outside and it looked like it would rain later. Altair did not want his charge to catch a cold and just in case that Desmond did not want to return with him, he would bring the keys with him.

As soon as the wind hit Altair's face, the young man shivered. It was colder than he had thought and the boy was just in his hoodie.

"He probably does not even realize that it is cold," mused Altair. He was no stranger to traumatic childhoods. One of his cousins had been a troubled child as well, at least before he ran away and moved to the other end of the world. "I better hurry."

Altair was not amused. He had walked around since thirty minutes, shouting his charge's name and trying to call him on his phone, which was definitely turned off. He had yet to find a trace of the boy.

"Desmond!" his calls were getting worried. If something had happened to his brother, Altair would never forgive himself. Not to forget that Desmond would most likely be taken away from him. It would only cause another hit to the already traumatised psyche. "Desmond! Come on, answer... I know you don't want to see me right now and that's fine... but at least let me give you your jacket and the keys for the house. Desmond! I'm worried."

The golden eyed man added a few colourful curses under his breath, when he did not receive an answer, even though it did not really surprise him. He did not even know, where his charge had headed, though his instincts had directed him towards the little tree house that was hidden in the forest.

"DESMOND!"

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