Page 12 of Hero Worship

He had that slightly manic look he got after coding for too long, dark circles under his eyes suggesting he'd been up all night gaming with Leo again. That's how Xavier dealt with worry. He either lost himself in lines of code or set controlled fires in the backyard, like he could burn away the fear of losing someone else. His laptop screen still glowed from where he'd left it on the coffee table, notifications pinging softly. Probably Leo checking in after their marathon gaming session. Sometimes I thought we were all just different flavors of the same trauma response, finding unique ways to cope with growing up surrounded by violence and vigilante justice.

The air between us crackled with unspoken words, laced with the faint scent of lighter fluid that always seemed to cling to Xavier's clothes these days. He had always been the bridge between me and Xion after the incident, the one who understood both sides without taking either. Now he was trying to be the bridge between me and myself, and I wasn't making it easy.

"What?" I snapped, the word coming out sharper than intended. My emotions were already raw from Valentine's training, scraped open and bleeding. I couldn't handle Xavier's particular brand of emotional manipulation right now.

"We need to talk about last night." Great. Now I was getting theunstable siblingtreatment.

I tried to brush past him toward the stairs, but he caught my arm. The touch sent electricity racing across my skin—too much sensation when everything already felt amplified. He'd already positioned himself perfectly between me and escape, using that uncanny ability to read people to predict exactly how I'd react.

"Let go," I growled, but didn't pull away. Some part of me needed the anchor he was offering, even as another part screamed that this was emotional manipulation at its finest.

"No." Xavier's grip tightened slightly, his eyes scanning my face with that intense focus that meant he was reading every subtle shift in my expression. Even the crack in his voice felt faked, though I knew the concern behind it was real. "Not this time. You almost got—" He paused, letting the silence do the work for him. "That guy could have—"

"Don't." The word came out like broken glass. "I had it under control."

"Bullshit." Xavier's other hand came up to grip my shoulder, forcing me to face him. "You were dissociating so hard you couldn't even say no. If I hadn't been there—"

"Then I would have handled it!" The words exploded out of me, too loud in the quiet house. "I'm not some fucking damsel in distress who needs big brother swooping in to save me!"

"No, you're my sibling who's spiraling so hard they can't tell the difference between danger and distraction anymore!" Xavier's eyes blazed with a fury that reminded me of Papa during a job. "You think I don't see what's happening? The drugs, the hookups, throwing yourself at Valentine like some kind of—"

"Don't." My voice cracked. "Don't you dare make this about him."

"Remember your night terrors?" Xavier's voice went soft and dangerous, that tone he used when he was about to dissect someone's psyche. He pulled me down onto the couch beside him, knowing exactly how my touch-starved brain would respond to the contact. "You'd wake up screaming every night. I could feel your terror bleeding into the air, taste your fear like candy." His arms closed around me. "The only thing that helped was this."

I curled into him automatically, my head tucking under his chin like we were kids again. He knew exactly what he was doing, using my need for physical affection to lower my defenses. But even knowing I was being manipulated, I couldn't pull away. Touch had always been my weakness, and Xavier wielded it like a scalpel.

"This isn't the same thing," I protested, but I pressed closer anyway. His heartbeat was steady under my ear.

"Isn't it?" His fingers carded through my hair gently, even as his words cut deep. "I can taste your fear now, just like back then. You're still that terrified kid, Dee. You're just running toward danger instead of away from it." His voice dropped lower, heavy with dark knowledge. "But the really interesting part? The fear tastes exactly the same. You're not afraid of pain or death. You're afraid of being alone."

He was right. It was about Valentine, wasn't it? About the way he looked at me like I was simultaneously the most fascinating and frustrating thing he'd ever seen. About how desperately I wanted to prove I was worth training, worth keeping, worth loving. About how terrified I was that he'd see what a mess I really was.

"Hey, hey, stay with me." Xavier's hands moved to cup my face. He knew exactly how to modulate his voice, exactly where to touch to calm me. "Breathe with me, Dee. Just like when we were kids, remember?" The childhood nickname wasn't an accident either.

I tried to match his exaggerated breathing, fighting against the tide of panic threatening to pull me under. Xavier's steady presence anchored me, just like it had countless times before. When had I started needing this again? When had I become so fucking fragile?

"I can't—" The words caught in my throat. "I don't know how to—"

"I know." Xavier pulled me into a hug, and I collapsed against him like a puppet with cut strings. "I know you're scared. But pushing everyone away isn't the answer. Not me, not Valentine, not your family."

I buried my face in his shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of his stupid cologne and Papa's fabric softener. "What if he sees how broken I am?" The whispered words felt like a confession. "What if he realizes I'm just like—"

"You're not like Dad," Xavier cut me off fiercely. "You're not like Algerone, and you're not broken. You're hurting and scared, and maybe a little lost. But that doesn't make you broken."

A bitter laugh escaped me. "Tell that to my brain. Pretty sure normal people don't feel like they're constantly one rejection away from shattering into a million pieces."

Xavier's arms tightened around me. "Since when has anyone in this family been normal? Shepherd has multiple personalities, Warrick can’t count to five without a breakdown. River thinks turning people into mushroom fertilizer is a romantic gesture, and Xion sees things that aren't there sometimes. We are all fucked up, and we all work with what we've got."

Something in his tone made me pull back slightly, studying his face. Xavier had always been the most stable of us triplets. At least, he seemed that way. But lately I'd started wondering if maybe he was just better at hiding whatever monster lived inside him. The way he could read people, manipulate situations... it wasn't normal. Even for our family.

"What about you?" The words slipped out.

Xavier went still, that perfect stillness that meant I'd caught him off guard. "What about me?"

"Don't play dumb. You've got everyone's number. You always know exactly what to say, exactly how to push..." I gestured vaguely between us. "Even this. You knew exactly how to get me to break down and talk."

A shadow crossed his face, there and gone so fast I almost missed it. "You think I'm manipulating you?"

---