CHAPTER 459: CHAPTER 459: THE BROTHERS

The manor had shifted into that strange hush it only carried when something serious or seriously embarrassing, had happened. Staff moved quietly. Lucas paced in the background of a video call with Mia. Trevor was checking on security protocols with Windstone. And Dean... Dean had been plotting.

Very badly.

Windstone had blocked him from the medical wing four times that morning. Lucas had carried him away once. Trevor had distracted him with promises of hot chocolate and lenience on his homework. But eventually the adults got busy, and when adults got busy, Dean saw opportunity.

He peeked around the corner, spotted Windstone halfway down the opposite hallway consulting his tablet, and bolted.

No one saw him slip through the cracked door.

The medical room was dim, the lights set low the way Marin preferred when she wanted recovery without sensory overload. Sebastian lay under light blankets, still sleeping off the last remnants of the medication. His curls were messy. His expression was soft in a way that only happened at home.

Dean stopped beside the bed, breathing hard from his sprint, but instantly quiet.

He lifted a hand and poked the blanket.

"Sebas."

No reaction.

He poked again, this time with the caution of a child who remembered getting accidentally elbowed once when waking his brother at the wrong moment.

"Sebas. Wake up."

A small groan rose from the blankets.

Sebastian shifted slightly, green eyes squinting against the light. "Dean... what are you doing here?"

Dean leaned closer, purple eyes wide with earnest worry. "Checking if you’re alive."

Sebastian stared at him for two full seconds. "Why... would I not be alive?"

"Because everyone was weird," Dean whispered, as if confessing a crime. "Dad was on the phone. Papa was talking to Aunt Mia like she broke the law. Windstone was doing his serious walk. And you didn’t come for pancakes."

Sebastian blinked once. "That last one is fair."

Dean edged closer, lowering himself onto the chair beside the bed. His feet didn’t reach the floor. "Are you really okay?"

Sebastian shifted upright, slow but steady. The fever was gone; the fog had lifted. He felt different, but not broken. Marin stated that his perception of the world and its dangers would continue to change. He would be able to tell someone’s intentions based on their pheromone signature, which would make his life easier. "Yeah. I’m okay."

Dean nodded, clearly skeptical. "Papa said you manifested."

Sebastian coughed. "He did?"

"Mhm. And then Dad said you need rest. And Windstone said you’re ’in transition,’ which sounds like you’re turning into a butterfly, but I don’t think that’s right because you’re too tall."

Sebastian pressed his hand to his face, doing his best not to laugh in his younger brother’s face. "I’m not turning into a butterfly."

Dean exhaled dramatically. "Good. Papa said butterflies die when you touch them and you’re very touchable, so that would be awkward."

Sebastian’s soul briefly left his body.

Dean continued as though this made perfect sense. "So, you’re a dominant now?"

"Yeah," Sebastian said softly. "Apparently."

Dean squinted at him. "Do you feel different?"

Sebastian thought about it. The buzzing at the back of his skull. The sharper instincts. The awareness of things he never paid attention to before. The fact that Dax had apparently voted for Saha three times on some stupid poll.

"...a little," he admitted.

Dean nodded, satisfied. "Okay. But you’re still Sebastian."

Sebastian felt something in his chest loosen. "Yeah. I’m still me."

Dean swung his legs under the chair. "Do you think people will bother you about this?"

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because I heard Dad say ’opportunists,’ and Papa said ’oh no,’ and Windstone said ’fire extinguisher.’ That sounds like people problems."

Sebastian closed his eyes for a second. "It... might be people problems."

Dean considered this, then leaned closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "If anyone bothers you... I’ll kick their knees."

Sebastian stared. "Dean."

"What? It works. Knees don’t have muscles."

"That’s not... Dean, no."

"I’ll aim lower then; shins would be perfect," Dean argued. "I’m small. It’s strategic."

Sebastian rubbed a hand over his face, but his smile slipped through before he could hide it. "Please don’t kick anyone."

Dean sighed, deeply disappointed. "Fine. But I’ll glare at them. Really hard."

"You can glare," Sebastian conceded. "Glaring is harmless."

Dean brightened. "Good. Aunt Mia said my glare is developing."

Sebastian made a mental note to talk to Mia. Or avoid her. Possibly both.

The door clicked open before he could respond. Dean shot upright like a burglar caught mid-heist.

Lucas stepped inside first, followed by Trevor. Both paused at the sight of Dean standing beside the bed, guilt radiating off him in bright purple waves.

Lucas folded his arms. "Dean."

Dean pointed dramatically at Sebastian. "He’s alive."

Trevor exhaled through his nose. "That was never in question."

"Yes, it was," Dean insisted. "In my heart."

Lucas hid a smile behind his hand and approached the bed. "Sweetheart, you know you’re not supposed to be in here without permission."

"I wasn’t without permission," Dean argued. "I gave myself permission."

Trevor shook his head and rubbed his brow. "That’s... not how permission works."

Dean shrugged, unconcerned. "It works for me."

Lucas guided him gently toward the door. "Come on. Let your brother rest a little longer."

Dean puffed out his cheeks but obeyed. "Fine. But I’m coming back when Windstone blinks."

Trevor raised an eyebrow. "Windstone doesn’t blink."

Dean’s eyes widened. "That explains a lot."

Lucas stifled a laugh as he ushered him out into the hall.

When the door closed, Sebastian sagged back into the pillows. "He’s going to get into trouble today."

Trevor stepped closer, expression warm and knowing. "He gets into trouble most days."

Lucas brushed a curl off Sebastian’s forehead, his movements soft and precise. "How’s the fever?"

"Gone," Sebastian said. "Still tired, but it’s better."

Trevor nodded, checking the IV line with the efficiency that came from years of dealing with minor crises and major ones. "Marin will pull the fluids in an hour. Your levels look steady."

Lucas sat at the edge of the bed. "Did Dean upset you?"

Sebastian shook his head. "No. He just... worries loudly."

Trevor huffed a quiet laugh. "That he does."

The room settled into a comfortable silence. Sebastian watched his parents for a moment, taking in the small signs of fatigue around their eyes and the tension that still lingered at the edges of their expressions.

"You can stop hovering," he said, voice soft.

Lucas tilted his head. "We’re not hovering."

"You literally stood outside my door all night," Sebastian replied.

Trevor didn’t deny it. "It was a long night."

Sebastian’s chest tightened, but in a warm way. "I’m fine. Really."

Trevor gave him one of those rare, quiet smiles that always hit harder than the dramatic ones. "We know. That doesn’t mean we worry any less."

Sebastian glanced toward the door Dean had vanished through. "He’s going to tell everyone the moment I’m allowed out of bed, isn’t he?"

Lucas nodded solemnly. "Yes. And he will tell them with enthusiasm."

Sebastian groaned. "Great."

Trevor clapped a hand on his shoulder. "Welcome to dominance, son."

Sebastian stared at him. "Can I reject it?"

"No," Lucas said instantly.

Trevor leaned closer, amusement tugging at his mouth. "But you can absolutely complain about it. That part is hereditary."

Sebastian rolled his eyes, but he was smiling.

Somewhere down the hall, Windstone’s voice carried faintly:

"Dean. Put the fire extinguisher down. No, you do not need it for your glare practice."

Sebastian sighed into his pillow.

"Yep," he murmured. "He’s definitely related to you."