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Thank you, readers, for your support and patience thus far! This will be the last chapter of basically the pre-story, so make sure you're reading everything in order. After this things will start heating up fairly quickly, so I hope you enjoy!

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Chapter Four - Reconciliation

My mind is in a fog. I don't know how long it's been since I left Joey and I barely recognize the address I gave the shady driver. The pain in my shoulder has settled to a cold kind of numbness and the suit jacket is sticking to me, so it's been long enough that blood has already started seeping through my makeshift bandages. Suddenly I'm standing in front of an apartment complex, with no idea where I'm even at in my fog, and the driver pulls off without a word.

I stood in mute silence for a long moment before a lady nearly jogs past me on the street with a terrified expression. Not wanting to risk having the cops called, I stumbled into the complex and up the stairs, coming to an apartment 2B that seems dimly familiar though I can't quite place why. I'm nearly doubled over from a sleepy kind of exhaustion as I rang the doorbell and waited. I'm not sure what I expected to happen, but I barely am aware as the door slowly opens, and a worried looking redhead studies my face.

It all hits me in a tidal wave like rush. I had given him Destinee's address. I have no idea why beyond I probably thought it was the last place anyone would ever think to look for me at. Destinee stares at me for a brief second before her gaze goes to the bloody shoulder and she gasps in horror.

"Brandon, what the hell?"

"I had nowhere else to go, I'm sorry." I'm barely keeping myself standing as she pulls me inside and closes the door. The faint smell of lavender and cinnamon assault my nose for a brief second before she rushes me over to a futon-style couch and lays down a thick blanket before sitting me down.

Dimly I'm aware of her asking a dozen questions, but I can barely hear anything past the roaring in my ears. I only caught the tailwind of what she was saying, something about a hospital, but it was enough to make me shake my head violently.

"No! No hospitals please." I handed her the slip of paper Joey gave me. "Please, call this number. It's a private doctor. I know you hate me, but I'm in a bad way right now."

That was it, my strength finally gave out and the sweet release of unconsciousness finally swept over me.

~~~~~

I woke softly in an unfamiliar, dimly lit room. My head was much clearer now, and I knew quite some time had passed, but my body was screaming in agony as I tried to sit up. It was strange, even as I looked around the living room, I couldn't place anything in it. The walls were an off-beige color like a cheap apartment, there was an old-school plasma TV, various anime posters over the walls and some kind of small kitchenette off to the side.

I was shirtless now, and my shoulder, leg, and waist were wrapped in some profession-level dressings. With the TV off, the place seemed eerily quiet, but as I tried to slow my breathing and just listen for a few moments, I could hear the faint sounds of someone talking down the hall. I slowly stood and stretched my aching muscles before following the sounds.

Destinee paused mid-conversation on her phone as she heard me come in, a strangely apprehensive look taking over her features. I couldn't really blame her either. Now that my head was clear, I remember everything, and I knew she must hate me even worse for dragging her into my mess.

My smile was sheepish as I tried to shrink into the doorway. "Hey Destinee."

I expected to instantly be met with her yelling at me or anger or something similar, so I was no expecting as tears suddenly formed in the corners of her eyes and she nearly tackled me in a hug. If she wasn't half my size and only five foot some, she would've set me on my ass with her surprising intensity. "You're awake," she cried softly into my good shoulder.

Completely taken off-guard by her genuine concern, I froze like an idiot. I wanted to hug her back, run my fingers through her beautiful straight hair, but I just couldn't do it. Just like when I ran two years ago, all the apologies and other things I wanted to say to her just froze in my throat. The only difference was that this time I refused to run. I was done running, it was time to face the music.

"I'm sorry for pulling you into my shit, baby sis. I just didn't know what else to do."

She was quiet as she continued to sob for a long few moments, her arms wrapped in a careful tightness around my ribs. She nodded, her soft voice breaking, "you owe me a lot of fucking answers, asshole, but that can wait. I was so scared that you were going to die." She finally pried herself away to study my face, her glistening green eyes full of worry and fear.

I nodded guilty, my gaze falling to the floor. I just couldn't bring myself to meet her gaze. I was a fucking coward apparently, which was strange because it only seemed to be when I was around her. "I know I do. I'm really sorry. I'm okay though, I think. Still in a lot of pain, but I'm alive at least. What happened? How long have I been out?"

"A week, off and on. When you showed up, I called that number you gave me like you asked. Some fucking biker-looking guy shows up an hour later, takes one look at you and then just starts patching you up like it's just a walk in the park. You lost a lot of blood and were on some heavy pain meds, but he said you'd be okay." There was a heavy kind of pause like she obviously wanted to say something else, but she stopped there.

I sighed, "Okay. How much money did he ask for? I'll have to call him back later tonight once we're done talking."

Her voice was quiet, but finally carried some of the anger I was expecting. "I already paid him. Three thousand fucking dollars, Brandon. It almost cleared out everything I had."

Not thinking, I quickly reached into my back pocket, whispering a silent prayer of thanks to whatever gods were listening that I hadn't dropped the envelope in my stupor. I could feel her eyes burning a hole into my chest as I quickly counted out three thousand and gently handed it to her.

"Thank you, sis."

I looked up to see her staring at the money as if it were a live grenade before she gingerly took the money and just gaped at it and then the envelope. I realized what I did wrong almost instantly. It wasn't exactly common for someone to just walk around with thousands of dollars in their pocket, let alone the tenfold plus amount still left in the envelope. The suddenly anxious look on her face gave away every terrible thought she was suddenly thinking about me.

Unsurprisingly, it stung, even though most were probably true. I wasn't exactly going to heaven any time soon. I smiled reassuringly as best I could and pocketed the envelope.

"Look, I know I owe you a thousand answers, and an even bigger apology. I'll tell you almost anything you want to know, I swear on my life, but I'm not dumb. I know you hate me, ever since that fight we had years ago, so if you would rather that I just walk out the door and never come back then I can't really blame you. You've done more than enough for me by not instantly calling the cops, so thank you either way."

Fighting the sinking feeling twisting in my gut, I held my breath as I waited. I couldn't bring myself to meet her gaze, afraid of seeing the hatred or judgement in those dark green gems. "I don't hate you, Brandon. You're my big brother. I'll always love you."

It was amazing how profound of an impact a simple sentence could have. For a brief moment of daring to hope, I felt like I was a teenager again instead of a grown ass man. This was not only my baby sister but my best friend again, at least for the length of that spark of hope. That is until it was quashed, and reality settled in.

"That being said, I was so angry with you for such a long time. And myself even more so." She trailed off, making me finally raise my gaze to her face in anxious curiosity. Her expression was unreadable though.

She let out a deep sigh, "I shouldn't have blown up on you the way I did. We were just kids playing at being adults. I thought I was enamored with you, and when you started ignoring me for Mikayla... I just kind of lost it. I'm sorry for that. But then you never even bothered to call or text me to try to patch things up. That's why I'm still mad at you. We were best friends, and you just gave it all up."

I nodded weakly. Honestly, I hadn't expected to get into this conversation just yet. I expected her to blow up about showing up on her doorstep, running away, and then showing up again with bullet wounds two years later. Level-headedness was a long way from the fiery almost teen girl I remembered. She had grown up. I mean obviously but seeing it for myself was just...different somehow.

She continued with whatever thoughts she was wrestling with. "Then you randomly showed up one day, years after. I knew you were back from the military, but when I didn't show up at your party, I would've never expected you to come to me. All this time I thought you hated me too for what happened. Why did you just leave?"

She finally turned to me, the stoic countenance betrayed slightly by tears threatening the corners of her eyes. I hung my head, there was no way I could tell her the truth. I had to tell her something though. "I felt so bad for what happened. I was guilt-stricken for years, but I thought you hated me. I kind of always knew how you had felt back then subconsciously, but it wasn't until you flipped out about Mikayla that I finally recognized how you felt. By then I thought it was too late to fix it. I knew I had already lost my sister and best friend because of my own stupidity. I wanted to call you so many times, but I was too much of a coward."

I raised my eyes to hers. "Then Mikayla cheated on me, and it was all just too much. My world was collapsing around me. I enlisted because I thought it would help me grow up, but really it was just running from my baggage. I missed you constantly, especially when I was deployed. You never sent a letter, and I slowly realized yours was the one that really mattered to me. So, when I got back and you didn't show up, I knew I had to come see you. Come try to make things right with you."

I was betrayed by my own body as I felt a tear trail down my cheek. The last time I had cried was for by shattered engagement, I would think I was tougher than this by now. Clearly not. The familiar rising panic rising in my chest making me want to run away from actually facing my own emotions was starting to resurface, but I quickly snuffed it. No more running.

"So, I came. When I saw you though, and that you had grown up, it really hit home for the first time how long it had been. How long I had let the distance between us grow... I'm not proud of it, but I panicked. You used to know me better than anyone. You know that I've always been a runner, too afraid of facing my own emotions. Well, I ran again. But I'm done running, Destinee. I swear on my life. I know we can't just magically go back to what we used to have, but I promise that I will give anything for a chance to start making it up to you now. I've missed you, and I am so sorry for letting anything come in-between us."

She nodded weakly, just studying whatever she was reading in my eyes. "Okay. If you aren't going to run again, then I am willing to give you a chance. For now, just to listen. Beyond that...I don't know yet. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. I accept your apology. I'm also sorry for letting anger stop me from reaching out to you either. I just needed some distance to get over my childish feelings. Also, I'm sorry that you and Mikayla didn't work out."

Her stoicism eased into a gentler look, searching. "Now, answers. How did my sweet, naïve older brother go from getting his heartbroken to the army to showing up at my apartment nearly bleeding out?"

I nodded, mentally steeling myself with a sigh. This was it. No matter how willing she was to try to patch things up with me, I was fairly sure that hearing about all the shit I had done would have her practically shoving me out the door. I needed to tell her though, to finally trust someone. There was only so many secrets one could carry before they were crushed under the weight.

I gestured toward her bed, a king-sized with a rich maroon colored comforter and light gray sheets. "You should sit. It's kind of a long story and may be a little hard to bear." She nodded softly and scooted to the center of her bed, against her pillows and the headboard. I sat at the very corner and turned my gaze to the wall, not wanting to see her expression for what was to come.

"So, when I took the ASVAB - the army placement test essentially - I got an eighty out of a hundred. Basically, I got perfect in everything except the mechanics section. All that means is I got my pick MOS's - jobs. I went with Signal Support Specialist, to work on radio com repair and stuff like that. After training, when I was on my first tour in Iraq, I ended up driving a light armored vehicle. There was a lot of shit that happened over there that I just won't talk about, but the part that's important was near the end of that tour."

"Our convoy was passing through this one ramshackle village, and we ran into a series of IED's. I don't want to get into it further, but I ended up finding out that I was really good at driving. Even while providing cover support and hopping out to pull some of the wounded men to safety. It was like, even though there was nothing but chaos all around us, while driving I could just see the world in perfect, concise clarity."

"Anyway, after my second tour, I finally got to come home. I ran into Mikayla at the mall and was forced to talk to her, and then trying to come see you, I realized I just couldn't face it. I travelled down to Mexico to just get somewhere calm and peaceful to clear my head. It was paradise for a long time, spending most of the day at the beach, spending my nights at bars or whatever else. I was at peace for the first time, even though the baggage I was running from was always tickling at the back of my mind."

"After the first month or so, I realized I was nearly out of money. I was forced to get a job or go home. I had become friends with the owner of this bar near the beach and started as a bartender. Carlos paid me decent money, but shit hit the fan real quick. There's always been stories in the news, but I had no idea just how bad the Mexican cartel was down there. My first few weeks of working the bar alone and these heavily armed men appeared out of nowhere and demanded their 'monthly payment for protection'."

"I had no idea that this was a regular occurrence, and that I was just supposed to pay. There was always a shotgun under the counter just in case... and my training overseas just kind of kicked in. There were four men total, and I had two of them on the ground before they even knew what hit them. They tried to kill me, but I was better and faster."

There was a long silence as I swallowed past the lump in my throat. Reliving the memories as I shared them. I sounded confident now, but it was one of the few times in my life I had nearly pissed myself I was so terrified. In the army, I had expected danger. Danger suddenly finding me when I was relaxed was a whole different thing altogether.

"Anyway, I closed up and called the owner to tell him what happened. He freaked out, understandably, and started calling some guy named Demario to explain the 'misunderstanding'. A few hours later, Carlos and some six-foot-seven giant Mexican guy show up. Just one look at this guy and I'm sure I'm about to be killed and dumped in a ditch somewhere. He looks around at his men before coming over to study me. I nearly shit myself when he starts laughing and shakes my hand."

"Long story short, he's impressed and gives me an 'offer'. The kind that means I can either come work for the cartel or die right there and then. I accept of course, and basically become what's called a runner because I drive so well. Basically, it means I drove whatever product they where trying to move wherever and whenever they wanted. I never saw the stuff firsthand, so I pushed it out of my consciousness. See no evil, speak no evil, ya know? Besides, I made more in a run than an entire year in the army most days."

"Flash forward almost two years later, I get a job to run diamonds to a guy back in the states. I've been wanting out of the game for a while at this point, just didn't know how, and I finally saw my chance. As I'm leaving to drop off the money, I notice I'm getting tailed by two cars. I assume it's the guy's men and call my guy in Pittsburgh. He gets ready for a fight and as soon as I pull in the men in the cars are hopping out."

"As I was running inside, I shot one of the guys in the hand. I narrowly escape, and our guys take care of the rest of them. I get my payment and get told to lay low, but I also realized I was shot. My car got torched and I got a lift here and yeah..."

Painful silence overtook both of us as I stare at the wall, too afraid to look over and see the disgust in her eyes. Honestly though, it feels like a tiny bit of the weight has finally been lifted off of my shoulders. Not only was she the first family I'd seen in two years, but she was the first one who knew pretty much everything now. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but there was the slightest chance that she would accept for who I was now. Then I could finally work on getting a semblance of my normal life back. I was so tired of 'excitement'.

Her sudden deep sigh in the dead quiet almost made me jump in surprise. I felt the bed shift as she inches towards me, gently putting her hand on my leg. Distantly I'm aware of the almost nervous thrill that tries to flood me from her simple touch, but I quickly fight it down.

"Brandon," she whispers, her voice all choked up. Without studying her expression, I can't tell if it's from fear, disgust, revulsion, or what though. "I can't say I understand what you went through, but I'm not the innocent little girl you used to try to protect from the world. Maybe I haven't seen or done the equivalent of your situation, but I'm in no place to hold it against you. Shit, really it sounds like you weren't left much of a choice."

Wincing, I shook my head. Here she was starting to hold out an olive branch, but it just felt too easy. Like her old feeling were clouding her judgement to just forgive her brother of all the terrible things he'd done just because nothing could cloud that pedestal most sisters hold their older siblings to. "Everyone has a choice. I've killed people, Des. Mostly it was self-defense I suppose, but still."

She gently put her forehead against my shoulder, nodding softly. "I get it, I do. For real forgiveness you need to be able to forgive yourself first though. There's nothing I can do about that part. I've heard what you told me, and I'm willing to give you a chance to come back into my life. Do you have somewhere to stay?"

Finally, I found the strength to look over at her, studying the top of her head where she's is leaning against me. I shook my head, a small bud of relief washing over me. It's not a lot, but it's enough to give me a bit of courage. "No. In all the chaos I haven't even really had time to figure out a plan."

She pulls away to look into my eyes. My relief blooms stronger as she smiles warmly, no trace of malice of disgust present in her beautiful eyes. "Well, you're welcome to stay here. That is if you want to. I have a second bedroom I use as an art studio, but I can move stuff around and we can get you a bed in there. Um - just one other thing first."

I nod waiting for her to wrestle with whatever she's debating. Her face falls for the briefest moment and I can tell she switched track. It's funny, she's almost a perfect stranger for the girl I used to know in every way, except for her emotions. I can still read her face as easily as a book. It's a bit comforting actually.