Young Writers Society

Engel listened as James and Boris spoke, the face of his own brother flashing through his mind. Food forgotten for the moment, his fingers tightened around the ebony rosary that was his sole possession and the only thing he had left of Gunther.

He didn't want to cry. He hated crying, especially in front of people. But he couldn't stop the tears that found their way down his face at the mere thought of his elder sibling. His countenance was still clear as day to Engel.

But he was with angels now. Heaven was better than cold, stupid old Prussia.

Somehow, that thought didn't ease the pain when all he could think about was the pale, cold form of his brother. Of his sister. Of his mother.

Damascus' focus scattered as he heard sniffling behind him. He turned and glanced around, looking for whoever had started crying again. His gaze landed on Engel, and he quickly hurried to the boy's side. All this crying was making him panic, and he really wanted to find a way to make everyone feel better.

After a few awkward moments of standing there and wondering what to do, he reached out and gently patted Engel's head. Maybe he should start by finding out what the matter was.

"Is- is the choc-lit making you sad?" He asked softly. "you don't have to eat it if you don't want to.."

"I'm not a werewolf-" Schadel started to reply, bewildered, only to turn around and stare at Engel when she heard him begin to cry. Her gaze immediately softened, and Edward - along with his teddy bear - were forgotten as she walked over to where Engel was sitting.

She sat down next to him. And then, after a moment of hesitation, she wrapped her arms around Engel. "Adam always said a hug made him feel better when he was upset," she told him, her eyes watering just a little at the thought of her first friend. "I don't know why you're upset, but being upset isn't any fun. So I want to help you feel better."

He wished he could stop the tears, but it was too late; as Watson hugged him, they only flowed more freely. The sobs racked his body and his fingers tightened around the crucifix with enough pressure to imprint its shape into his skin. Engel wanted to explain but couldn't find the words through the tears, and had a hard enough time breathing as it was, so he simply accepted the silence and wrapped his arms around John. He didn't want him to go away.

Damascus blinked as Engel sobbed harder. So, he guessed that that was a no to the chocolate question. Maybe he just didn't want to talk about what was making him sad- that was okay. John-Watson came over and hugged him, and Damascus brightened a little.

Embracing! He could do that! Getting down on his knees, he scooted forward and threw his arms around both Engel and John-Watson.

"We all want you to feel better." He whispered softly.

First it was Watson who was crying, and then it was Engel. James didn't want to crowd Engel, because he knew that would be overwhelming, so he stayed where he was.

"I'm sorry you're feeling sad, Engel," he whispered quietly.

Edward awkwardly continued to stand near the table covered in an assortment of food. They were all taking this so well; even the now sobbing Engel was probably crying for something unrelated to suddenly ending up here. He tightened his grip on his teddy bear. This is just a dream, this is just a dream, he tried to tell himself, but it was hard. This felt far too real, and he couldn't wake up no matter what he did.

But this couldn't be real, right? It just couldn't. There was magic and apparently werewolves, and both Damascus and John Watson were incredibly bizarre, and even James thought magic existed. Boris thought they were from a place called Prussia, and Engel did, too. He hadn't even heard of Prussia before!

He hugged William even closer to his chest.

He wanted his mom really, really bad right now. He wanted to feel the comfort of her pulling him into an embrace, feel her pull back and sign a "It'll be okay" to him before pulling back into another embrace. And then she'd wait until he was completely caught off guard and start tickling him because that was what she always did he was feeling sad and scared.

"I-I'm sorry," he said through his sobs. "I-I-I just...I h-had a brother, too..."

James inched a little closer to the crying boy, an innocent compassion written on his face. Engel had a brother. That meant something happened to him.

"Oh, Engel..." he said softly. "I'm sorry," he said again, not knowing what else to say.

Had. Had. Boris realized then that he had never considered what life without a brother was like. Not life where a brother had never existed, and certainly not a life where someone had to lose one.

But that was what happened to Engel. Boris felt sad, but still detached.
That felt wrong. He felt as though he should have felt worse for Engel, but he couldn't conceive the weight of what it really meant.

Boris moved closer, and gingerly rested his hand on a small piece of Engel's shoulder that wasn't already covered by Damascus or John.

Was this the right thing to do? He wasn't sure. But timid as he was, he was glad that he had done it.

He wished he had something to say, as well, but he knew that there was nothing to be said. He knew that anything he could do likely wouldn't be enough. But he was glad that it was something.

The comforting comment that Schadel had been about to say to comfort the sobbing Engel caught in her throat. Before the thought could even register, the words came out a sob of her own. She pulled back from the hug, scooted down the log and tried to stop the steady stream of tears that had just started rolling down her already red cheeks.

She held Adam's cross tightly in her hands, but that did barely anything to comfort her. She wished Blanx was here. He was always so good at reassuring her that everything would be alright, and that Adam had to go away because he was human and humans didn't live forever.

"It's okay, Engel, cry as much as you want to." Damascus whispered, clutching the other boy tightly. He felt a shift as John Watson pulled away from the hug and peeked over Engel's shoulder at him. His eyes widened as he realized that John Watson was crying again.

Tentatively, he reached out his arm and grabbed the man's hand, hoping it would make things better and not worse.

The moment Damascus grabbed onto her hand, Schadel immediately felt a little bit better. It wasn't a lot, but it was something. She sniffled as she looked over at the group. "I-I also had a brother," she said. Adam wasn't her blood brother, but he was just as much of a brother to her as Blanx was. "He-He was a soldier."

James felt very much at a loss. Now there were many said people, all who had lost brothers. He hugged his legs as he sat on the ground. He didn't know what to say anymore. What could he say?

"How about we all just be each other's brothers, then?" said Boris, as though the solution was very simple.