cribellate | Declan Lynch | The Raven Cycle

[What Matthew might notice is Declan's hand tightening around his, even as he speaks, even as he explains - oh, no, their mother is still stricken, no, they're fine, yes, Aglionby has been supportive, yes, Ronan is just running late, no, they don't need anything but of course they'll say, yes, thank you.

And then he looks down at Matthew and they're in public but Declan pulls him a bit, so they're sitting close together, so he can squeeze every time it looks like Matthew is gong to cry.]

The organist is off his game.

[They're all, in a way, musicians, although Matthew was no good at it, he can still appreciate it.]

He keeps missing the count.

[ Matthew exhales when Declan pulls him closer, the kind of sigh that accompanies a release of tension. Then he blinks, and listens for a moment. ]

Oh.

[ The corner of his mouth gives the faintest quirk, because he can hear it now and that's the kind of thing that probably would have gotten points with their dad if he were here. He always wanted his sons to be good at the things he found important, and Matthew's always wanted to be good at things. ]

You're right.

[ He squeezes Declan's hand back now, maybe a bit delayed but still there. ]

[Declan hums along, making the corrections. He was always the best singer out of the three of them; it was his talent when the rest of them heaped on Ronan.]

I think you could probably play it better.

[That's something that would have come right out of Niall's mouth; truth or not (lie more likely) because Niall liked to think that his sons could do everything better. It's what forged the Lynch brothers into what they are now - a perfectionist, a prodigy, and a people-pleaser.

It's not the first time Declan has sounded like Niall but maybe it's the first time where his father's shadow wasn't lingering over him.]

[ Matthew closes his eyes, listening, leaning against Declan a little. The other side of his mouth lifts as well this time, and it may be the barest shadow of his usual smile but it's still a real one. His first in a week. ]

I don't know. I kind of suck.

[ Ronan, at least, has been telling him that for years--

As a much younger boy, dark curls still intact, his laughter echoing through the mostly empty sanctuary.

"Matthew, you sound like shit."

"Ronan!" A much younger Matthew, his fingers falling from the keys in his distress as he twists around to make sure no one heard. "You can't swear in church!"

--and Matthew's not so deluded as to think Ronan had the wrong idea, but he loves Declan desperately for saying otherwise now.

Even if it is a lie. ]

You're not that bad. It's not your fault Ronan thinks anything less than perfect is sucking.

[Just like Niall. To a degree, like Declan, too, but Matthew is exempt.]

I don't want to sing anymore.

[He hasn't said it out loud before. He's saying it out loud now.]

[ Matthew's eyes open again and he peers up at his brother, almost holding his breath.

It's another change. Not a huge one, or maybe it is because it's something Declan has decided on his own, rather than having it thrown on him like the others. ]

You don't like it?

[ Matthew doesn't feel anxious though, which is strange. If Declan had told him when their father was alive, it would have made Matthew nervous, like an act of defiance. ]

[He feels like he can't breathe. If he had said it while their dad was still alive, he thinks it would have garnered some attention. If he had said it then it would be rebellion.

Now, he doesn't know what it is. He's still the one who is most like Niall, even though Niall really wanted to be most like Ronan. It must have been strange, to look at your oldest and see yourself, and your middle and see the ideal. God, he misses Ronan.]

I think I should give it up. Like Lent. For dad.

[That's not why at all. But it's an easy lie, a pious lie.]

[ Matthew considers this, and it feels somewhat right. It doesn't feel wrong, at least.

He might not get a chance to have any feelings about the truth. ]

Maybe I won't play for a while.

[ The organ, and the bouzouki. Partly he says this because he, too, would like to be pious--in the truest, non-hypocritical way--but unlike Declan he is able to admit the real reason as well, in fact he almost feels compelled to do so. ]

I don't know if-- if I could anyway. It wouldn't be the same.

[ All at once it's very, very hard to keep the promise he made to himself about not crying; the hard lump reappears in his throat and his chest feels tight and maybe he shouldn't have said that. ]

[Declan sees that wobble, that sudden hesitation in Matthew, and he doesn't know what to do. He's not a parent, he's barely 17, and he feels that worry in his chest.

They're in public. But it doesn't matter. He turns and puts his arm around Matthew's shoulder and pulls him so that Matthew's face is against his shoulder.]

Yeah, I know.

[No one seems to be looking at them and Declan counts that as a small blessing.]

[ Matthew doesn't care if anyone is looking, except he knows that Declan does. Even so, he can't control the shudder that passes through him and the single, ragged little breath he drags into his mouth, the sound muffled against Declan's shoulder.

It doesn't last very long. By the time the service starts he's scrubbing the tears away, and then he just looks up into his brother's face and softly whispers-- ]

Sorry.

[ Ronan still isn't here. Declan's phone still isn't ringing. He needs to stop crying and start praying. ]

Don't apologize. You don't have to.

[He presses a kiss against the top of Matthew's head, and during the entire mass, he doesn't let go of his hand.]

Declan Lynch | The Raven Cycle

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