#broleyns

His world started to unravel with a fairly inconspicuous text from his sister.


Well, to say it ‘unraveled’ might be a bit dramatic but it did feel like something ended. Something died. His childhood innocence, maybe? That wasn’t even fair, to act like he was the victim here. He wasn’t. Learning about what had happened to his brother wasn’t even comparable to what actually happened to him.

Charlotte kept her brothers updated about anything that happened back home that she heard about. How she heard anything was beyond Teddy- when their mother was still alive it was possible that she was giving her the updates, but Charlotte no longer lived in Tréves and there was no clear way she was receiving news from it. Still, if something happened worth knowing about, she sent the update to the group chat of the siblings.

[Charlotte]

Father Tusspells died.

Teddy didn’t initially respond, seeing it as not really worth responding to. Father Tusspells was the priest of their congregation when he was a kid, but shortly after Sam was disowned, he left. Honestly, he hadn’t even realized he was still alive. Sam, however, did see it as worth a response.

[Sam]

good.

That prompted a response.

[Theo]

Harsh.

[Sam]

but fair.

[Theo]

What did he do to you??

Sam didn’t respond. However, within a few minutes, his sister called.

“Char?” He said as a greeting, but she didn’t seem particularly caught up in formalities.

“Drop it.”

“Excuse me?”

“The thing with Father Tusspells.” She said impatiently, as if he should have known immediately what she meant. “Drop it.”

“Why?” He asked, mostly out of curiosity at this point.

“I think I know what’s going on. I’m not sure, I could be wrong…” She said, and then her voice changed a little, as if she was far off. “God, I’ve never wanted to be wrong more than I want to be about this.”

“What is it?” He asked, starting to feel anxiety. If Charlotte was actually hoping she was wrong, that couldn’t be good news. “Tell me.”

“No.” She replied, shortly. “It’s none of your business. But drop it.”

“Tell me!” He repeated, this time more annoyed at always being left out of the conversation, but also feeling a sense of foreboding that he couldn’t explain.

“This is a Pandora’s box you don’t want to open. Drop it.” Charlotte warned again, ominously, and then the line went dead.

He tried to call back but it went to voicemail after a single ring. No doubt she was ignoring him. Charlotte was probably right about this being a can of worms better left closed, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of something being wrong. He wouldn’t be able to rest until he got to the bottom of it. But who could he ask? Charlotte was about as helpful as a brick wall. He didn’t want to confront Sam until he was sure he knew what he was doing. Even if he thought his mother might be willing to be helpful, she was gone from this world. He didn’t know what to do.

“Teddy! Dinner’s ready!” He was pulled from his reverie by the little blonde slip of a thing he was lucky enough to call his wife appearing in the doorway.

“I’ll be there in a second.” He called back but when he looked up and saw she was still standing there, her head tilted to the side, he realized what must have been his mistake. “…That was in French, wasn’t it?”

“Oui.” She said, and he forced a smile as he put his phone down and walked over to the kitchen, where she had set their food up at the counter.

“Is something wrong?” She asked, and he just sighed. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I better not.” He replied, frowning as he poked at the fish she had prepared without much enthusiasm. “It’s sort of sensitive Boleyn stuff.”

“I’m a Boleyn now, you know.” She reminded him patiently, and he shook his head.

“No, I know, I just… well, I don’t even have the full story. I need to get that sorted out first.”

“Maybe try explaining it in French?” She suggested. “I won’t understand it, but when you’re having a problem, explaining it out loud often helps you figure it out.”

So that’s what he did. While she ate her dinner and nodded thoughtfully when he paused as if she actually did understand, he explained everything. Charlotte’s text, and Sam’s response. How out of character it was for him to be so callous. Charlotte’s cryptic call and refusal to offer more information. The Pandora’s box comment, and how that frightened him but how he felt like he had already come too far to not see it through. Even in French, though, he couldn’t bring himself to make the most sincere confession- that part of him already knew. To do that would mean to admit it consciously, and that would make it real.

To Farrah’s credit, she was somewhat right. By the time he finished he didn’t have any new ideas, but he did feel a little better. And his wife didn’t try to offer meaningless platitudes or speak of things she knew nothing about. She just waited patiently until he was done and then got up to take their dishes to the sink, pausing to kiss his temple. He watched her for a moment before returning to his phone, hoping maybe there was a notification that would make all this make sense.

The only notification was from Instagram, informing him that Blaire.Monet had posted for the first time in awhile. Honestly, he really only followed her out of courtesy, since he didn’t really know her. She seemed nice enough, but she was Sam’s friend, not his. He went to flick the notification from his center but accidentally clicked on it, and before he could react, the app opened. He clicked the home button before he could truly process what he saw, but within seconds was scrambling to open the app back up and verify that he had indeed seen what he thought he had.

And there it was. A picture out a plane window looking down on the Statue of Liberty and a text caption briefly saying something about how excited she was to be back in New York for a few days. Yes! This was it! If anyone would know more about this, it would be Blaire. She was Sam’s best friend- plus she was Jewish, so it probably wouldn’t bother her to speak ill of a priest. He pulled up her page and hit message.

“Hi, Blaire.

I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m Teddy, Sam’s little brother? I saw you were in New York and was wondering if you had any time to meet up and maybe get coffee or something? I have something I want to ask you about.”

After he hit send, he hesitated for a second, before adding

“It’s about Sam.”

He didn’t have to wait long for a response.

“Teddy! Of course I remember you. I may not have directly interacted with you since you were a youngun, but last time I was in New York, Sam insisted I go see you in The Lightning Thief. He had practically bought me a ticket before I was even off the plane!

Speaking of Sam, of course I can make time if it’s for him. Is everything okay? Where and when would you like to meet?”

He ignored the first question, instead making plans for the next day, around 10:30 at a hipster place in Manhattan. He’d have to leave early to get there in time, considering how far on the outskirts of Brooklyn Farrah (and he, now that he had moved in) lived. But that was okay. Honestly, he didn’t think he’d sleep much, anyway.

The next morning his anxiety prompted him to be at the cafe early, and he had secured a table facing the door by 10:15. He ordered a coffee but found himself too nervous to touch it, and it just sat there, emitting steam. It felt like a tiny eternity but finally the door opened, and in walked Blaire, the backlighting streaming through her curls giving her an angelic glow. Within seconds he was on his feet, waving her over.

“Teddy! It’s good to see you.” She greeted him in their native French as she walked over. “You’ve gotten so big!”

“Not since last year!” He protested, and she shook her head.

“You were still pretending to be twelve. May I sit?”

She gestured to the seat across from him and he nodded eagerly, taking his own seat across from her. He was bursting with so many questions, but forced himself to sit still while a server approached and took Blaire’s order. Finally, she handed the menu back to them with a smile that turned deathly serious as she settled her eyes on her coffee date.

“Alright. What’s going on?”

Finally faced with the person who might actually be able to answer his questions, his mind went blank. The monologue he had planned all night was gone without a trace. All he could think of was to say what Charlotte had said that started this whole mess.

“Father Tusspells died.”

Blaire didn’t so much as blink.

“I don’t even know who that is.”

“He was the priest of our congregation growing up.”

“Not to be blunt, but what does that have to do with me or Sam?”

For the second time in less than 24 hours, he found himself laying out the situation in French. This time, however, his audience was able to follow along. As she understood what he was saying her expression turned more and more grim. By the time he was finished, she wouldn’t look out of place at a funeral. He looked at her expectantly, but she just poured a flask out of her purse and dumped a generous amount in her coffee cup.

“…Blaire?” He finally asked after she took a long swig of her witch’s brew without comment.

“If we’re going to talk about this, I can’t be sober.” She replied, which just prompted a frown from him. When she had downed about half of her concoction, she looked at him again.

“Okay. I don’t know for sure what this is about. I mean, I have a pretty good idea, but… Sam never told me anything. He wasn’t the type to suffer for an audience. He guards his pain like a priceless treasure.”

Teddy didn’t say anything. He had never seen the side of his brother that Blaire was describing- which, he supposed, was the point. She continued.

“But I’ll tell you what I know. If you really want to know. Charlotte is right. Once you open this can of worms, you’ll have to lie in it.” He was pretty sure she was mixing her metaphors but this didn’t seem like the time to correct her, and instead just nodded. “I think you’ll be able to put the same pieces together that I did.

Not too long after Sam was kicked out, there was this huge scandal. Your parents were probably glad that people had something to whisper about that wasn’t them. But it was about Father Tusspells. Does any of this ring a bell?”

Teddy thought hard.

“Only a little. That was the same time he left the congregation, and Father Lang came in, right?”

“Did anyone ever tell you why he left?”

“No. I mean, I guess there were whispers, but… I was young. I thought he just retired.”

“No. The Catholic Church did what the Catholic Church does best and just moved him around a bit. But the reason that they had to play musical chairs with their priests was because there were accusations made against him by an altar boy.”

Teddy felt like he was about to either start screaming or might just pass out.

“What… what kind of accusations?” His voice was barely a whisper, but Blaire shot him a severe look anyway.

“The kind of accusations altar boys make against Catholic priests, Theodore. You don’t need me to say it. That was also right before Sam…”

She trailed off, making a vague gesture with her hands that he didn’t know how to interpret.

“…Before Sam what?” He asked, and her severity turned to surprise.

“Before he- you mean, you don’t know?”

“Know what?” He asked, and she frowned. There was so much pity in her face, he could hardly stand it.

“Theo, when was the last time you looked at your brother? I mean… really looked at him? Not looked up at him, but looked at him directly?”

When he didn’t respond, she seemed to accept that she had made her point adequately and turned her attention to her purse, where she fished around for a five dollar bill before tossing it on the table.

“I should go. But next time you get a chance, take a good long look at your brother. Specifically his wrists.”

And then she was gone. The conversation couldn’t have lasted more than ten minutes, but it shook him to his core. The worst part was that it made sense. When Sam had became an altar boy, almost overnight he had gone from being his happy, fun loving brother to a sullen, moody kid. His parents said it was just a phase and he would grow out of it, but even when Teddy finally made it to New York, the brother he knew still hadn’t come back, but he tried to ignore it. When he slept on his couch, he tried to chalk up the whimpers he heard to the wind. All the signs that his brother was suffering were there, and he ignored them. He never even took a closer look at his wrist- probably because part of him knew what he would find and he wasn’t ready to deal with it.

He needed to see him. Before he lost his nerve. He didn’t know what he would do… tell him that he loved him? That it was okay? That he didn’t have to keep his pain locked away in a prison of silence? That if he had learned anything from fairytales, it was that naming a monster takes away at least some of its power? Maybe all of those. Maybe none of those. But he couldn’t put it off any longer. He used the find my iPhone feature to narrow down Sam’s location and was surprised when it told him his brother was in a Catholic Church in midtown. Still… this all began in a church, maybe it was fitting it would end in one.

When he arrived at the church, he didn’t know where to look. It was a Friday morning, so there weren’t any services going on, but the door was unlocked and he could hear an organ playing. Once inside, he took off his gloves and then nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard a voice at his shoulder. He spun around to see a man of the cloth, who’s approach must have been muffled by the organ.

“Are you lost, my child?” He asked, and Theo almost laughed out loud. If only he knew.

“No, I’m sorry, I’m looking for my brother. His name is Sam?”

“Ah, Sam is in the chapel, playing our organ. Just go through the vestibule and it’s the main door. You can’t miss it.”

Teddy nodded and murmured some kind of thanks, moving in the direction the priest had indicated. He knew that Sam played the piano, but that he spent his free time on the organ was news to him. He was learning so much about the person he thought he knew better than anyone else today.

Teddy hadn’t gone to church since he moved out of his parents’ home and was no longer forced to every week, so his knowledge was a little rusty, but he recognized some Christmas hymn being played. He followed the sound to a set of double doors and sure enough, once he stepped through them, he found himself in the hallowed cavern of the chapel. Sam was sitting at the organ in the front of the room, seemingly unaware that anyone had joined him. Teddy took a deep breath and approached.

When he was finally just a few steps away, the musician seemed to notice he wasn’t alone and his hands hesitated over the keys as he looked over to see who it was. Once he saw the face of his little brother, he relaxed into a gentle smile. But, and maybe he was just imagining things, or maybe he was following Blaire’s advice and truly looking at his brother, but for a split second, before he recognized him, he seemed to be unbearably tense.

“Hey.” The older Boleyn said, the aura of sadness gone without a trace. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question.” Teddy replied, frowning at him. “I thought you didn’t worship anymore.”

“The only God that I believe is still alive is that of music, my dear brother.” Sam patted the top of the organ controls in front of him. “The priests here let me practice as long as I occasionally do weddings and the like for them.”

Teddy nodded, though it still didn’t make sense to him. If Blaire was right, he couldn’t imagine him ever wanting to step foot in a church again. Hell, he didn’t even want to be here now, and no one had touched him.

“Your turn.” Sam said, his smile still seeming so easy. Could this all really be true? “What brings you here?”

“I was looking for you.” Teddy confessed, which caused his brother’s eyebrows to furrow.

“And you had to come all this way? Did I miss a call from you or something?”

“No, no.” Teddy explained, though Sam still picked up his phone, glancing at it to see if he had any missed notifications. As he did, the hem of his sleeve rode up a little bit. From this distance it was hard to say for sure, but it sure seemed like there was a gash of skin down the center of his wrist that was paler than the rest of it. “I don’t… I don’t really know how to say this.”

“Hey…” Sam looked concerned and stood up, closing the physical distance between the brothers quickly and placed his hand on his shoulder. If only it was that easy to also cover the emotional distance. “You can always tell me anything. You know that, right?”

Teddy wanted to scream. He did know that, had always known that, but he thought it had gone both ways. How could he never have told him about- well, about any of this?

“Did you know Blaire’s in town?” Was what he finally settled on, and felt stupid as soon as he said it. Of course he knew, she was one of his best friends.

“Yeah, she came to Hadestown last night.” He answered, and Teddy just nodded. “Why do you ask?”

“I saw her before coming here.” Teddy said. He tried to choose his words carefully, but still stumbled over it. “We talked, um… we talked about you…”

Sam removed his hand from his shoulder as quickly as if he had been burned, bringing it to his chest protectively. That easy going, laid back aura around him was gone. Now he just seemed tense, his narrowing eyes cold and hard.

“Blaire,” he started, his voice just as inhospitable as his eyes. “Needs to learn to mind her own business.”

Teddy reached for him. He took a step back, and the little brother felt his heart break.

“Sam, please…” He pleaded. “Whatever happened, you can tell me.”

“Why?!” Sam accused, the hand up to his chest clenching into a fist. “So you can know how fucked up I am? How I ruin everything I touch? How it’s all my fault?!”

“Don’t say that…” He tried to interject, but Sam didn’t seem to hear him.

“So I can burn you, too?! Because I’m a fire, all I ever do is destroy!”

Teddy didn’t know what to say. He wanted to beg and to cry, to say that he would much rather be burned by whatever Sam was hiding than to drown in his own grief. He loved him; not the perfect facade he put up, but who he truly was, faults and fires included.

“Sam…” He tried, but his brother wasn’t having it.

“Maybe- maybe you should just stay away! Leave me alone! You are so pure, all I will do is sully you!” He gesticulated wildly, his eyes darting around like a cornered animal as he spoke. “I mean, if I ruined a priest, I’m sure I can ruin you, too!”

“Sam, what are you talking about?” Teddy asked, absolutely bewildered as he watched his brother have a mental breakdown in real time in front of his eyes.

“I mean, if I could corrupt a man of God into thinking such impure thoughts, who even knows what I could do to you?!”

Teddy continued to stare at his brother, who was clearly approaching hysteria more and more with every passing second. He knew what his brother was telling him, could understand each individual word, but he didn’t want to actually comprehend it. Victimizing his brother was one thing. Leading him to believe that it was his fault? That wasn’t just sexual assault, that was spiritual assault.

“It wasn’t your fault.” Was all he could say, and Sam looked surprised.

“What?” He asked, his voice so quiet that Teddy wasn’t sure if he actually heard him, or just imagined things.

“It wasn’t your fault.” He repeated, more forcefully this time, and Sam stumbled back as if he’d been physically attacked, but he only made it a few steps before he ran into the piano bench and quickly lost his balance, falling into a sitting position on the bench.

“But… but you don’t know…”

“I don’t care.” Teddy interrupted. As he spoke, he knelt down in front of his brother, taking his hands in his. “It doesn’t matter who hurt you. It doesn’t matter what they told you. You were just a kid. It wasn’t your responsibility to be the adult in that situation.”

He took Blaire’s advice and really looked at Sam. His eyes shone with a layer of tears he tried to hold back, and for the first time, Teddy saw how truly and completely miserable and broken his brother was. He turned over his hands, looking at his wrists, and sure enough, there were deep scars. Sam seemed to know what he was looking at and tried to pull his hands away, but Teddy tightened his grip, tilting his head down and pressing his forehead against the scars.

It was strange, that he would find himself in this position once again. In a church, on his knees, with his head down and his hands clasping something reverently. It made sense, though. He had long since stopped believing that there was some higher power that actually cared about them, but he did believe in his brother. This was the altar that he chose to worship at, and truly seeing his brother, seeing how broken and bruised he was… it didn’t change anything. It was still his brother, the bravest, strongest, and most loving man he knew.

“I love you, Samuel.” Teddy whispered. He had to squeeze his eyes shut, because the tears were threatening to spill for him as well.

lwjelkfjwlekfjlwjlwjk whorethrons i can’t even i don’t know what you should do but that’s hilarious

I KNOW I THOUGHT IT UP AND I'M LIKE OMG I AM SO FUNNY AND CLEVER~

I think I'll keep it until the hunger games movie comes out

YES I THINK SO AND THEY STEAL DIAMONDS OR SOMETHING

THAT'S IT! Now what is the name!?

Wait is this the one with Clive Owen in it?

he went to one of the boys schools near mine. they get invited to our dances.

DO NOT EVEN OMG I AM IN LOVE WITH HIM SWEET GOD.