self-fulfilled prophecy {closed}

As soon as a sick smile surfaced on Preston's face, Dublin ran his hand across his own in frustration. He always seemed to say the wrong thing, didn't he? He knew that making this right wasn't easily solved with half hearted words alone, but it was hard for him to see things in anyone's perspective but his own. In Dublin's mind, not meaning to do it should make up for doing it at all. Of course he understood why it didn't, why he couldn't just say 'I won't do it again' and everything would be solved, but he just didn't know what else he could do. They both knew that Dublin wasn't likely to stop repeating his mistakes anytime soon. He wasn't a fool, and neither was Preston. They both knew that this very well could happen again, whether or not he wanted to get better.

A sick feeling settled in Dublin's stomach as he watched electricity crackle around his brother's body. His empty stomach completely flipped when Preston turned to face him, and his breath caught in his throat at the tears streaking his brother's face. Tears of his own pricked his eyes, and he shook his head slowly. When he spoke, his voice was just as soft as his brother's. "I- I don't know." He was heartbreakingly earnest in his words, a sad, hopeless look in his eyes. He took a breath, pulling himself together. "There's nothing you can do, is there?"

He seemed to come to a revelation at the words as he spoke them. Preston didn't deserve the weight of Dublin's mistakes on his shoulders. He'd had to deal with him for too long now, and enough was enough. Dublin had to grow up and stop relying on his little brother to come save him. "You don't have to take care of me anymore, Pres. Whatever mistakes I make, I need to deal with the consequences on my own. And you're right. You can't bail me out every time. And you shouldn't have to. If I can't stop fucking up, that's on me. If I can't get my shit together, I'll just..." He didn't know what to say, didn't know what would happen if he couldn't fix himself. Or, he did know. He knew all too well what would happen if he couldn't get it together.

"Shut up," Preston seethed through his teeth. "Shut the fuck up."

It had been terrifying enough when he'd gotten the first call or seen his brother crumpled up on the floor. The one thing that could have made it all worse then, after all the bullshit and through all the blinding anger, was if he dared to hear those words come out of Dublin's mouth; how he wasn't worth it, how they should have given up on him after all, like he could be considered little more than a heavy burden. Preston didn't know what to make of that kind of stupid logic, didn't know how to handle it. He wasn't some problem they could shrug off their shoulders. They were family.

He wished, so damned much, if he could snap his fingers and make whatever plagued followed Dub disappear. Simple. Easy. But life wasn't like that. "You'd better be sorry. If something happened to you and I wasn't there, I'd never forgive you." Or forgive himself. The young man took a few steps forward, shaking his head, holding back a pathetic sniffle. "I won't give up on you... just... fuck, man." He shrugged up the sleeve of his coat, brushing away at his cheeks and stiffening up once he heard frenzied footsteps near the doorway.