The Vale estate was a beautiful lie.
White colonial walls caught the last of the evening sun. From the outside it looked like a dream to aspire to. It was the kind of sight that made passersby slow their step and envy what they couldn't see past.
But on the inside it was silent. It wasn't peaceful or calming, and the house itself wasn't warm or comforting. Not in the way a family home should be, at least.
Things have been that way for a while now. It's been few weeks or months like this, you'd get a different answer depending on who you asked. But the one thing they'd all agree on is it had been far too long. Long enough that the Vales could no longer see how unsettling the home had truly become.
Virgil Vale sat still on an arm chair, so silent you could mistake him for a doll or mannequin.
That was how his elder brother, Vincent, found him when he came through the door. Virgil remained unphased, his mind somewhere far from that room.
Vincent loosened his tie without much effort, crossed to the sideboard, and poured two glasses of water without being asked. Set one within Virgil's reach and took a sip from the other.
"You should eat something." Vincent said. His younger brother shook his head no, earning a disapproving sigh. "That was not a question."
"Leave me alone. I already ate."
"When?"
Virgil's fingers tightened around his sleeves for a moment. "I ate earlier."
Both men fell silent for a moment, then Vincent spoke up again. "You've barely left the house."
Virgil's head snapped up to look at Vincent. "I don't need to leave the house for food, do I?"
Vincent stared his brother down for a long while. Virgil had his legs tucked up under him in the armchair, which was a habit from childhood that had never entirely gone away. "You can't remain locked up in here."
"I know."
"It's been two weeks."
"I said I know." Virgil huffed, shoulders tensing slightly. "Get off my case would you? I'm going to get back on track soon. I just have to sort out some things first."
Vincent finally sat down on the nearest sofa, just a few feet away. "Soon?"
Virgil gave no response. His eyes trailed toward the fireplace, and Vincent soon followed the gesture.
A few inches above the oak mantle rested Eleanor Vale's last piece. It depicted five birds on a wire, each one representative of themselves. The magpie; bright and tilting slightly sideways. The heron; a bit more distant than the rest, still as standing water. The swan; composed, sitting a fraction higher than the rest, though seemingly shrunken into itself. The shrike; standing proudly behind the rest with its back half turned to the others. And at the centre a small pale bird, easy to overlook, but precious to the family.
They both admired the painting for a while before Vincent spoke up. "How's Violet?"
Virgil tensed. "Angry." His eyes stayed on the shrike. "Dad's been worse since mum died. He's been getting more erratic."
"I know."
Virgil scoffed. "How could you know when you're never here?"
"I mean I know about father. I think she's right to be concerned, though I've no intention of allowing him to go unchecked."
"Neither do I." Virgil nodded slowly. He was looking at the painting again without appearing to realise it.
"Mum painted us true." Virgil mused.
"She did."
"Even him."
"Especially him." Vincent followed his gaze to the shrike. "She always saw things clearly. That was her."
"Think she knew how things would end?"
Vincent felt his throat tighten but didn't let himself lock up. "I think she knew her days were numbered."
Neither felt the need to say anything more on the topic after that. The evening had gone mostly now, just the last edge of it at the horizon.
"Are you alright?" Vincent asked.
Virgil looked at him. "Are you?"
"Answer me first."
The corner of Virgil's mouth moved a fraction. It wasn't quite a smile, but it was more than Vincent had seen from his brother in recent weeks. "I'm alright, man." he said. "I'm working through things. It takes time."
"It does."
"You don't have to stay, you know. If you've got things to do then get on with it."
"I'm waiting for father." Vincent said, pausing for a second when he felt Virgil tense up. "I need to speak to him about something."
"Ah." Virgil was quiet for a moment. "Well sounds like fun but unfortunately I won't be able to stick around for that."
"We both know it won't be."
The elder brother could almost feel his junior snicker, though he chose not to comment. "You need some moral support?"
"No." He said it without hesitation. "You go to bed as soon as he arrives. Don't wait up."
The order came in sharp, and Virgil nodded without bothering to argue. Vincent didn't need to tell him, he'd do it on his own in a heart beat.
He looked at the window again. For the next few moments the dark garden and the last of the light kept him occupied. His hands were quiet in his lap, which was unusual. Virgil was almost always doing something with them. Usually he'd be tapping a rhythm or turning something over. Tonight they were just still.
"Virgil."
"Yeah?"
Vincent looked at him with a tense frown. He thought about how to approach the topic, but only a few seconds passed before he bit the bullet. "Do you need new medication? I can have it sorted."
Virgil looked at him. A direct look, almost too cold for Vincent to believe he knew the man sitting across from him. "No."
"But it's due to expire soon."
Virgil raised his hand, sharply silencing his elder half. "I know you mean well, but no. I'm fine." he said.
"No, you're not."
"I've got what I need, now drop it."
Vincent felt the need to push further and ensure Virgil was really as fine as he insisted. There was a world with a version of himself that would have closed the distance. But he just couldn't bring himself to. He'd been moving away from people his whole professional life and calling his evasion discipline. All he could really bring himself to do was take a deep breath, and say nothing.
Silence wrapped around both men after that, too awkward to disturb. Outside, headlights swept across the curtains and a familiar engine pulled into the drive.
Vincent stood up a little too fast. He lost balance and held onto the sofa armrest for a few seconds.
"Lightheaded?" Virgil asked, to which Vincent shook his head.
He straightened his clothes and looked at Virgil one last time. He sat there, tucked into the armchair, hands completely still, looking at nothing in particular.
"Get some rest." he said.
"You too." Virgil turned and looked at him. Just for a moment. "Vincent."
"Yes?"
"Good luck, bro." he said, his left hand gesturing a little salute in Vincent's direction. "You look like you need it."
Vincent hummed softly and looked in Virgil's direction for a moment longer, though didn't quite meet his eyes. Then he nodded once and walked out of the sitting room toward the sound of the front door opening.