Cain and Abel

hello again. :) this next post comes directly after the last, so you haven't missed anything. let me know what you think.

Haden rushed forward at his name and pulled Marc against his chest in a tight hug. Peter backed away in one move, pulling Haylee behind him again. Peter's hands were still held out in front of him, ready. I was still holding my breath.
“Marc,” Haden choked. “You're alright.”
“What the hell is going on?” Peter demanded. Haden released Marc, who's face was stony.
“I'm Haden,” he said, grinning. His voice was deep and rough.
“And?” Peter asked, his hands still ready.
“He's my brother,” Marc choked.
“What?” Haylee whispered. Peter let his hands fall slightly, his palms still facing the newcomer.
“My brother,” Haden repeated, throwing one arm around Marc's shoulder. “Can't you see the resemblance?” He chuckled gruffly, mussing Marc's hair.
“No,” Peter mumbled under his breath.
But Peter was wrong, there was a resemblance. Any outsider who looked at them would guess at the relation. The siblings were similar. The same skin, the same hands, the same shape of the face. The hair was different, obviously. Marc's hair was paler, Haden's darker and thick with curls. And their eyes. Marc's crystal blue eyes were guarded and Haden's caramel eyes were warm. Haden stood slightly taller than his brother, Marc a little wider with muscle. Any onlooker would see that. But I wasn't any onlooker, not an outsider. I let myself float along the air around us, tasting the atmosphere.
I reached Haylee first. Her familiar temperature was warmer with happiness. She would be thrilled at the family reunion. Peter's breathing was deep, mist filling the air around him. Little waves of anger rolled from his body. He was still tensed for battle, still wary of the stranger. Marc was next. His breath dipped and dove through the air around him, his strong heart pounding strangely. Haden next. His breath was cold against my skin, like fog. It filled the space around him, thick like a wall. He was guarded, wary of Peter still standing in a crouch. Curious, too, at the little ball of flame resting in Haylee's hands. He turned his eyes on me. The fog was warmer for a moment as he took me in. His caramel eyes were playful, his face brightening into a smile, one hand flexed slightly. His gaze made my face warm, made it hard to concentrate. I pulled back to myself.
“Sorry if I scared you,” Haden said, turning his eyes on Peter's tight form.
“No harm, no foul,” Peter muttered.
“You can put those down,” Haden said, suddenly serious. His eyes were on Peter's open palms. Peter turned his hands away. “That,” Haden smiled again, no longer serious, “that is interesting.” He was gazing at Haylee's little fire.
“Thank you,” she said softly, bowing.
“Would you like to talk somewhere more comfortable?” Haden asked, gesturing in the opposite direction he had appeared from.
“What did you have in mind?” Peter growled.
“There's a cabin near by,” Marc muttered, his eyes on the ground.
“That's my place,” Haden said with a smile. “Well, not mine exactly, but I've been staying there.”
“We were there last night,” Peter said. “Where were you?”
“I've been exploring the area for a few days,” Haden said, looking around.
“Exploring the mountain?” Peter asked. Haden's face fell, his eyes darkening. I took a silent breath, not sure when I had stopped holding it.
“No,” Haden said in a low voice. “I've lost something.”
“Like what?” Peter pushed. Haden glared at him for a moment, then turned his face up into a smile.
“A hat,” he answered. “It was my mother's.” He tightened the arm around Marc's shoulders. “Our mother's.” He amended. He gestured again saying, “Shall we?”
“Our car is that way,” Haylee said, pointing behind us. I couldn't remember if that was actually the direction we had come in. Haden frowned.
“There's a path that goes to the cabin from here,” he said. “It's much easier going than the road.”
“But our car-” Peter started.
“Leave it,” Marc snapped, turning toward the direction his brother had indicated.
“This way,” Haden said happily, walking off into the darkness.
The path curved along the rock face, a narrow clearing between the wall and the trees. It weaved off into the night, illuminated slightly by Haylee's flame. Haden walked ahead, then Marc, then me, Peter and Haylee whispering quietly as they brought up the rear. I caught up to Marc, out of breath even though this path was much kinder than our earlier one. “Marc?” I breathed, trying to keep my voice down. He shook his head once, so I was silent. He fell behind me after a few quiet minutes.
Haden was a few feet ahead, his long stride like his brother's. His powerful arms were swinging slightly at his sides. The others were quiet behind us. A few seconds later, Haden's right foot caught a little incline in the path. His momentum carried him forward as he tripped. He uttered a low oath as he fell toward the ground. A few inches from the dirt, he disappeared. We all stopped in our tracks. A few yards ahead on the path, Haden flashed into existence, dusting his pants off. He looked up at our staring eyes, his neck red. He raised his hands in a greeting. “Sorry!” he called. “I'm still trying to get used to that.” He turned away, embarrassed, and continued along the path.
“Great,” Peter muttered behind us. Marc picked up his pace.

So, they go back to the cabin and have a great awkward gathering. Silence, tea, Marc fuming in the corner. The usual. Haden asks Haylee about her power, and then Peter. Peter shows off a little, no big deal. Then he turns to Dakota.

He turned his gaze to me again, warming my face.
“Won't you have some tea, Dakota?” he asked pleasantly. Marc stiffened at my side.
“How did you know my name?” I breathed. He cocked his head.
“Did you think you were the only one who had dreams?” he asked. My throat closed, my palms sweating. “Tea?” he asked again. Marc leaned closer to me.
“Would you like some water?” he muttered. Peter shifted as if to get to his feet. Marc held out a hand.
“Yes please,” I whispered back.
“I'll help!” Haden said, jumping up.
Marc walked into the kitchen without looking at his brother. Haden followed. When they were gone, Haylee let out her breath noisily. “My God this is awkward,” Peter whispered. I nodded numbly. With the source of the tension gone from the room, the tightness in my chest loosened.
Marc entered after a long moment, Haden at his heels. Marc walked over to me, a tall glass of water in one hand. I met his eyes. The blue there was cold, little stress lines fanning out around his face. He was distracted, his forehead creased. I attempted a smile, forcing my muscles to pull up into a grin, teeth still clenched. He softened at my expression. I could only imagine that it must look like a lunatic grimace. He chuckled once at my attempt and leaned forward, pressing his lips to mine softly. Someone let their breath out in a huff. The air gusted cold against my skin, so I knew it had been Haden. Marc took his face away and we turned to look at his brother.
Haden had frozen in place, his mouth hanging open. His hands were clenched into fists, the thick muscles of his arms trembling. I expected for a moment that maybe his face would turn playful, teasing his brother's easy affection with me. But his eyes were hard, the light brown in them burning. He clenched his jaw, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Marc clenched his own fists at his brother's unexplainable reaction. The water glass winked and disappeared. Outside in the quiet night, the small chime of glass breaking could be heard. Haden stared at his brother's empty fists, his face shocked.
“Where is it?” Haden choked. Marc didn't answer, his breathing fast. “WHERE IS IT?!” Haden roared.
“IN THE GREENHOUSE!” Marc screamed back. Peter rose to his feet. And Haden vanished.
“Stay here,” Marc growled, and disappeared. The air blew by as he kicked off through the night.
Of course, we were all through the back door in seconds, Peter at the lead. Haylee flared up two balls of fire to light our way across the black yard. A crash sounded in the greenhouse. Another crash and a roar as we reached the glass building. Peter kicked the door in. Haden was racing through the dark room, turning pots over and flipping tables. Marc stood just inside the door, fuming.
“What did you do with it?!” Haden shouted. He flipped another table with a violent grunt.
“I didn't take the hat, 'Den,” Marc said through his teeth.
My eyes immediately jumped to the little pile in the corner. A beer bottle, a remote control. A baseball cap. Marc was standing right beside it, not paying attention. I pressed myself up against the wall and nudged him. “Where is it?!” Haden roared again, sending a row of pots flying.
Marc looked to me, then to the little pile. Haden turned his back as Marc ducked down and scooped up the hat. I sighed with relief. I was starting to worry about the plants being crushed under foot. Marc held it up. “Haden, calm down. It's here.”
Haden whipped his head in Marc's direction, locking eyes on the hat. He vanished and reappeared in front of Marc in one breath. Haden reached out and clamped his hand against his brother's throat, throwing him back into the wall. He lifted him from his feet. Marc kicked and choked. “Give it to me,” Haden growled.
Peter and Haylee leapt forward, their hands up in front of them. I threw one arm out to block them. I didn't need to concentrate, my palms were already tingling. A pot hanging overhead shivered as a vine crawled over the side. It dropped to Haden's shoulder and twined tightly around his neck. My blood was ice. Marc dropped the hat as he thrashed wildly. “Put him down,” I hissed. The vine tightened around Haden's throat. He opened his hand.
Marc fell to the ground heavily, gasping and coughing. I let the vine tighten momentarily, the anger still racing in my veins. Haylee laid a hand on my shoulder. I took a breath. The plant unraveled itself and slid back into place.
Haden's gasping mixed with his brother's in the warm air. He bent to snatch the hat from the ground. He locked eyes with me as he slid it into place over his curls. His lips were turned up in a snarl as he disappeared. Peter was thrown roughly to the side. Haylee restrained him as he lunged at the empty air in the greenhouse doorway. We heard the back door open and slam shut. From inside the house, the creak of a bedroom door and another bang.
“He always does this,” Marc said, still sputtering, as he climbed to his feet.
“Does what?” Peter asked. “Rage around breaking shit and then choke the life out of you?”
“Yeah,” Marc answered, massaging his throat. “Pretty much.”