(no subject)

[macabre-whimsy.insanejournal.com]

WHO: Wilhelm and Jacob
WHEN: (backdated) early Monday morning
WHERE: the Grimm residence
WHAT: coming clean (Originally posted by Wil)



Wil slowly opened his eyes and shivered as the light assaulted them. Why was he so cold? He put up a hand to block out the light shining on him, the shape of it black in contrast.

"Come on, you can't stay here," said a firm voice briskly. Wil felt woozy and tried to orient himself. A man was bending over him, and the light was a torch shone in his face, turned downwards as Wil regained consciousness. The sky above them was grey, "rosy-fingered dawn" just touching the horizon. "Have you been drinking or taking drugs? You're a state."

"No, no..." Wil said, and coughed wetly. He looked at his hands, wondering at his broken nails and the blood on his palms. The man straightened up, shining his torch on the wall.

"You sure? Well you can't stay here. What've you been doing?"

Wil finally realised it was a cop talking to him as he tried to get to his feet. How had he got here? He only remembered leaving Leanne's and being struck with powerful inspiration, and then... He got to his knees and turned to look at the wall. There were scribbles all over it, scratched into the brick with a stone. It was nearly impossible to read, but there was a lot of it. The cop scratched his head.

"You gotta lay off the drugs, pal. They're bad for you."

"No, no, I'm sick, I'm sick," Wil said, almost falling into the skip as he struggled upwards. The cop sighed and hooked an arm around him.

"Look. I'm about to knock off anyway. You got a place to sleep? Better to go home than wait to be beat up out here."

Wil didn't get the man's name, and he was a little sorry for it. He was driven back to his home by the cop, sitting in the back seat shivering and coughing. The cop kept glancing in the mirror at him, the pity clear on his face. Wil shook his head. The man thought he was a junkie, not a starving artist. What had he come to? Being driven home by a police officer, trying to hide the blood he kept coughing into his hands? Was this right?

Please let Jacob have spent the night at home. Wil told the cop thanks for the ride home, and managed to get his keys in the lock without dropping them. There was enough daylight for the kitchen to be faintly lit, and Wil made his way first to the sink to wash his hands, then to the table to sit and wait for Jacob to get up. He balled up his scarf and put it under his head, intending to just rest a little, and ending up falling asleep.

Jacob woke up later, sleepily rubbing his eyes. He sat up and yawned before pushing the blankets off himself. He had spent most of yesterday with Ella and Clio, followed by grading a bunch of finals. He was hungry now and he wanted coffee.

He padded, barefoot, to the kitchen and when his gaze fell on Wil, sleeping on the table, he completely forgot about breakfast. "Wilhelm?" Jacob blinked and he went to stand beside his brother. Wil looked bad but he couldn't see just how bad yet. He set a hand on his brother's back and he shook Wil gently. In German he said, "Wil, is something wrong?" Why was he asleep at the table?

Wil blinked and screwed up his face as he woke, trying to get his eyes back into focus. "I didn't mean to fall asleep," he said, rubbing his hand across his face, reverting to German because Jacob had. He looked up at Jacob, noticing how he looked, refreshed and rosy. Not the same sort of glowing health that Leanne had, though.

He'd probably known all along, but it took him this long to admit it to himself.

"Can you make me a coffee?" he asked, winding his scarf around his hands.

Now that Wil was looking up at Jacob, he could see a bit more of how terrible his brother was looking. Was he sick!? He looked gaunt and pale. Panic cut through Jacob like a knife and he flicked on the kettle without even looking at it, before sitting beside his brother.

"Wil, are you sick?!" Oh god, how had he not noticed this!?

As if to illustrate the point, a sudden tickle in Wil's throat forced him to cough, the sound harsh and unpleasant. He covered his mouth with his hand, not looking to see if there were those tell-tale spots of blood before he curled his hand up and wrapped his scarf around it again.

"I might be," he admitted with a sigh, lungs rattling. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have- I've made hiding things from you something of a habit." He was on the edge bursting into exhausted tears, he felt that weak, and he rubbed his eyes with the other hand.

And the worry knife just cut deeper. "Wh- Hiding things?! Wil- Wil what have you been hiding?!" The wet cough Jacob heard made him want to cry as well. Illness had once taken his brother away from him.

Jacob reached out for Wil's arm and he gripped it, trying to be gentle while being insistent at the same time. "I need you to tell me what's going on. You look- You look like you're-" He couldn't say his brother looked like death, but he did.

"There's a sidhe called Leanne," Wil said, looking at his fingernails on the table. "She promised me inspiration, and I, like the fool I am, accepted. I can't even take example from my own stories. Never make deals with fairies." He gave Jacob a wry smile. "That's why I have been writing so much of late." He had to stop for another coughing fit. When he was done and had his breath back, he continued. "But then, I've needed her more often, and I've started spacing out, and now I have tuberculosis. A police officer drove me home this morning. What have I become? I thought I could control it. I am so ashamed." A few tears leaked down his cheeks, and he turned to lean against Jacob, miserable.

With every word, Jacob felt like he was dying. His brother had been going through this for...how long? And Jacob had been so wrapped up in himself that he hadn't noticed at all.

It was several moments after Wil stopped speaking that Jacob could even manage to speak. The first words out of his mouth were reassurance, despite the great amount of panic he was feeling. "No, no- Wil, no." Jacob moved his shoulder away, but only so he could hold his brother's face in his hands. He tried not to notice how thin it was.

"Wil, you don't need to be ashamed. You- This isn't your fault." Sure he shouldn't have made the deal, but that wasn't important now. "Hey. I'm going to help you." He pulled Wil's face forward and he kissed his brother's forehead. Then he took Wil's hands into his, scarf and all. It was then he noticed the blood on Wil's skin.

"Fuck. O-okay." Choking back a sob, he managed to grit out, "we need to clean you up and you need to eat something. Shit, Wil, when was the last time you ate anything?!"

"I had some cake yesterday," Wil said apologetically. "I just... forgot about it. I've been writing. Kind of." He pulled his hands back, trying to hide the dirt. "It is my own fault. I should have known better. But it just felt so good to be able to write my own stories... You know I envy Hans that, sometimes, that his are so unique and ours are not. We're scholars and editors, not fiction writers, it's why I'll never finish my novel. I didn't know it'd make me sick." He was babbling a little, trying to put off Jacob forcing him into the bath and seeing what Wil hid beneath his thick clothes. "But she was saying that I was walking alone until I met her, and that isn't right. I've never walked alone. I've just chosen to go off the path by myself. I should have told you right away."

Jacob did know what Wil meant about wishing he could write his own stories. He felt that way too sometimes, but he knew his place and he didn't fight it.

Wil might have pulled his hands back, but Jacob reached for his brother's arms instead, trying to pull Wil up. "Come on, Wil. You need to clean up." He felt guilty and horrified. Wil said he wasn't walking alone, but Jacob hadn't noticed until now. He probably had been more alone lately. "I- I'm sorry I've been so busy. My god, I'm sorry, Schatz."

Will let Jacob pull him to his feet. He could hardly have fought it, really. "I know, the baby... I was hiding it. I didn't want you to see. It's not your fault." He had a feeling that he was going to get sicker before he got better, but maybe it'd be okay now. He let Jacob lead him about docilely, feeling somewhat relieved, despite the guilt.

Jacob led his brother into the bathroom and he immediately began running some water. He had to think one step at a time or he was going to lose his cool. Just get his brother clean and then they would move on to the next thing. Eventually he could put Wil to bed and then he could panic and break down.

"Do you want me to help you?" Jacob asked, referring to undressing his brother.

He hesitated, unwilling to just undress with Jacob looking so- so- like that. He got some bubble bath that had been bought for Ella and squirted it into the water, then sat on the edge of the tub, waiting for it to fill. He'd undress then. "No. I'll do it. You can sit, if you want." He tried to smother another cough, and then sighed, annoyed. He hated being weak. "It's her that gave me this. I'm not sure if I am actually infected or it is just symptoms. They seem to fade when I'm inspired."

Jacob closed the toilet and then he sat down on it, a little hard. "How long have you been sick?" Jacob asked worriedly. "Wil, how bad is it?"

"It's been getting worse the last few weeks," Wil admitted, leaning down to check the water temperature. "I just haven't been eating as much as I should have. I'll be fine after a good meal and a sleep, I'm sure." He knew he was lying, and Jacob probably knew too. He glanced at Jacob, pulling his sleeves over his hands. "Do you think you could make me that coffee? or tea?" he asked, wanting Jacob to go away so he could get in the bath and cover himself with the bubbles without him seeing.

He would have gotten Wil anything he wanted, but something about the timing made Jacob wonder if something else was going on here. He seemed so...cagey.

"Wil?" Jacob asked, standing up. "Is there something else? Are- Are you hurt?"

"No! No, I'm just thirsty. Please?" Wil gave Jacob a pleading look. "A lemon tea, perhaps?" He put his scarf down on the floor and started slowly unbuttoning his coat to show he was doing as he was told.

Jacob raised his eyebrows at his brother and though he didn't really want to go, he couldn't ignore Wil's thirst and he didn't want to risk the chance that Wil was being deceptive.

"O-okay. I think just water is better," Jacob stuttered. He scuttled away and filled a glass with water before hurrying back to the bathroom.

Wil undressed quickly as soon as Jacob was out of the room, tossing his clothes aside in a pile before stepping quickly into the water. The water was hot, and took some adjusting to, but he sat down quickly, sinking low under the bubbles. He held his arms up in front of him and washed his hands clean, trying to see what Jacob would see in his knobby knees and bony shoulders poking above the cover of foam.

It took mere seconds to notice how bony Wil's shoulders were when Jacob walked back into the room. He nearly dropped the water glass. "W-Wil! Wil, you-" Jacob rushed forward and he knelt hard on the floor, banging his knee hard on the tiles.

"Wil! Brother, how much weight have you lost!?"

"I haven't measured," Wil mumbled, taking the glass. It wasn't tea, but he'd drink it anyway. "A bit." He glanced at Jacob. He knew how Jacob would get now, both guilty and frantic at Wil's ill-health. He always had and always would. "What about some beef tea? Am I allowed that?" He skin was pink from the hot water, but at least it was glistening and clean again.

"Wil-" Jacob's voice was soft and kind, and he was forcing it to remain that way. He didn't have any words to follow up with though, so instead he nodded. "Just a moment."

Jacob disappeared and when he returned, he had a mug of beef tea and a bowl of soup. He placed both the mug and the bowl on a bath tray and he set the tray in front of Wil.

Quickly, Jacob pulled his shirt over his head and then he slipped his trousers off. Their bath was large enough for two, something Jacob had insisted on, though there was nothing sexual in Jacob's intentions now.

With his clothes removed, he stepped into the bath. "Here," he said, reaching for the wash cloth. With it, he started to wash Wil's back. "I'll take care of you, Wil."

Wil let out a sigh, but it was of release this time. Jacob wasn't fussing terribly, and he felt relieved about that. He was sure that Jacob was freaking out internally, but he appreciated the effort. He drank the soup slowly, savouring the vegetable flavour. It was like cleansing out the sweet insubstantialness of Leanne and replacing it with something solid and warm. Jacob was both of those things, reassuring at his back. He began to relax properly, of his own accord at last.

Jacob finished washing Wil's back and then he leaned Wil back against his chest. Once there, he wrapped his arms around Wil's too-tiny frame. "I love you, you idiot. And if you try to leave my sight for the next six months I am going to tie you to your bed. Do you understand me?"

"Yes sir," Wil said with a roll of his eyes, but he smiled a little too. He leaned back into Jacob and offered him a spoonful of soup. "You might need to proofread my writing. I fear it went a little mad towards the end."

Jacob ate the soup, but only because he didn't want an argument to erupt about a damn spoonful. And he had to admit he was hungry, even if it was dwarfed by his worry for his brother.

"I'll do anything you want me to. Anything to make up for leaving you to her." Jacob buried his face in Wil's wet hair. "I'll kill her."

"No, she is what she is. I accepted her offer and I should have known better," Wil said calmly. "We've done the research, after all. Elfenmarchen of Ireland." He put aside the tray when he was done eating, and it didn't seem like enough. After a sleep, he would eat more. In the mean time, he let Jacob's presence reassure and comfort him, glad to be back with him, safe and sound.