Leopard and Reed Meet Again

"What?" he asked, confused. "I don't...I don't know!"

He frowned, trying to think.

"Uhm...you used to have really nice, long hair?"

He glared, tightening his grip on the assassin's neck.

"I...I don't believe you. There's no way it took you this long...you were dead, right?"

"I-I survived! They shot me in the head, oh, I know! I have the scar, see, see?" he said suddenly, removing his hat to reveal his hair.

He released his grip on Chase, taking a step back.

"...You're lying. You have to be. A ploy by the agency, maybe..." He shook his head.

"Look, if you're my brother...what did you get me for my birthday, the one right before they took me?" No reasonable person would ever guess hookers; it was a perfect question.

This was where having brain damage made things difficult. He couldn't remember. In fact, he hardly remembered anything from their childhood. The only thing he remembered clearly was how his brother had looked, and how much he missed him.

"Uhm...uh..." he stuttered dumbly. "I..."

He narrowed his eyes.

"...You're not really Chase, are you?"

"I-I don't know, I-I think I did something really stupid, but...I got shot in the head, I can't exactly remember everything very well!" he insisted. "Please, believe me..."

"No wonder you're a killer," he spat. "Even if you are Chase, then you've just forgotten everything--look at you. Sickening. What did that man do to you? You're just killing him for money, or political agenda.

"I refuse to believe that someone like you is my brother."

He stared, wide mouthed. This was not even nearly how he had imagined this happening.

"...Brother, you can't...you can't be serious!"

"Don't call me that!" he snapped. "You're not my brother--I have no reason to believe you are! Chase, my Chase, wasn't a killer, or an assassin, or any of these things. He wasn't like either of us--he was a good person."

Reed took a step backward, moving toward his gun. His eyes never left the assassin.

"Even if you were Chase, you aren't anymore. But I won't believe that you were--for the sake of Chase's memory, I'm going to believe he died. And even if you were him, well..." He slowly reached for the gun. "Either way, at the end of today Chase Bishop will be dead."

He couldn't believe it. What had happened to his beloved brother? Sure, he had gone through a lot of things he had never thought he would, but honestly, it would have been a life of crime for both of them, anyway. At least, he tried to tell himself, that he was doing this all for his brother.

Now, he wasn't so sure.

Heart pounding in his chest, he jumped to his feet, shoving Reed, and sprinting for the exit. Unfortunately, he ended up slipping and nearly falling, and while he caught himself, he sliced his arm up good. Cursing his luck, he finally escaped the damned cafe.

Leopard really hated his life.

-x-

Reed sat on a crate, glancing distastefully at his surroundings. It had been a while since he had met someone at a warehouse, particularly one this decrepit; there was rust buildup on most of the walls.

Part of him wanted to leave, and he very well could. It would be easy to just stand up, walk away, and never look back at this place; the chances of ever having to meet anyone here again were ridiculously slim. And yet, he stayed, waiting for Chase Bishop to walk through the front door.

Though he felt like he hadn't seen his brother in years, that was no longer true. He had seen him a week ago, at the hotel. A blood test had proved the man's claims; all that was left was a meeting, face-to-face. He had contacted Chase with a time and date, specifying that no weapons were allowed. He adjusted his pants leg, where he had hidden a knife; better safe than sorry.

Minutes passed, until he had been waiting half an hour. He checked his watch; the assassin--or rather, Chase--should be arriving any moment now. He messed with his hair, trying to get it to look professional; Chase had always loved his long, red hair. Too bad now it was cropped and practical.

Leopard ran a hand through his thick, coarse hair. He had been sitting outside for minutes, now. He adjusted his hat for the thousandth time, attempting to hide his scar completely. He didn't want his brother to think he was ugly. His brother already pretty much hated him, he didn't want him to hate him more.

Sighing heavily, he finally walked inside.

"Brother, I mean, uh, Reed," he said cautiously, walking over to him. "I'm...here."

"No weapons?" he asked, leaning back. He studied his brother with a foul expression; he could practically taste the disappointment, sour like spoiled milk. After all these years, he had imagined his brother as angel, divine and free of mortal sin. The man in front of him looked damaged somehow, as though his sins had begun to rot his appearance.

"I'm surprised you came alone. I imagined you'd want me dead, after our last encounter--I certainly wanted you dead."

"Of course not," he lied easily, smiling. "I don't want you dead, brother! I've been looking for you all over! That's why I've done everything I've ever done! I had to find you, and I did, and now we can quit these lives and go back to how things used to be!"

He walked towards his brother.

"Come on, let's go home and quit this crazy life."

Reed laughed hollowly.

"And go back to what, exactly? Even if I could leave--even if I would leave with you--we had nothing before, and there's even less remaining now that we've been gone so long. You and I were nothing, and that's all we left behind."

He crossed his arms, glancing to the side. The paint was peeling off of the warehouse walls and little flecks of it floated in the sunlight streaming through a hole in the roof.

"In any case, I certainly didn't call you hear because I want to go anywhere with you." He paused, trying to withhold his resentment. "I want to know what happened. That's all I want. Because you are Chase, for better or worse." It was obvious which he thought it was.

Leopard stared down at Reed, his spirits thoroughly crushed, again. He wasn't sure why he kept trying. The try-hard, adorable brother he loved was gone.

"...no," he replied, breaking into a sudden grin. "You'll never know what happened to me. I was wrong; you aren't my brother! I'll only tell me brother what really happened."

He shrugged.

"Well, seeya, sweetheart."

"Excuse me?" he snapped, standing up. "You're the shady one--I couldn't even recognize you! The only reason I'm here is because of a blood test."

He unconsciously ran his hands through his hair. "Is it because of my hair? Don't tell me you can't recognize it when it's short. Is it the glasses, the suit, the fact that I'm well-fed and grown up? I can't believe you don't recognize me."

He glared at the sidewalk, feeling disappointment fill him to the brim. He had never even dreamed that his older brother would forget him.

"I couldn't tell it was you, but you've changed so much more--my name is still Reed Bishop. I'm just older. What do you mean, I'm not your brother?

"If anything, you're not my brother--Chase wouldn't forget me so easily. Chase wouldn't let me leave the house alone at night, Chase made me mac and cheese whenever I wanted--Chase wouldn't just forget everything like that."

He laughed heartily.

"Oh, no, I was wrong; it's impossible for my darling Reed to ever have acted like this~" he giggled. "My brother had beautiful long hair, and he was always trying his best to impress me, it as cute, really."

He smiled dumbly.

"I was wrong about who you were, and you must be looking for a different brother. I could help you, for a price," he winked, stretching out. "You know, you're really cute. I have a thing for redheads. Too bad about your hair, though. You wanna fuck, anyway?"

His face turned a bright red. He couldn't decide what was more offensive, the fact that his brother was hitting on him or the fact that his brother would never have hit on him before. It brought back all the shameful emotions of his childhood in an instant, like getting hit by a truck.

"What the hell are you saying?" he asked, taking a step back. "I'm your brother, dumbass--I'm Reed Bishop, you're Chase Bishop, and we grew up together. You'd braid my hair while we watched cartoons before bed."

He took a step forward.

"No, I'm not. I'm Leopard, the assassin. Chase Bishop is dead, and I killed him," he replied, shrugging. "You sure you don't want to fuck? My only complaint is that you don't have lots of fun hair to pull on as I ride you."

His blush spread to his ears as he couldn't help but imagine it. He had wanted his brother to do something like that for years, to grab him and push him down and just--

He cleared his throat awkwardly, trying not to think about it.

"I c-cannot sleep with you, Leopard, as you insist. Whether or not my brother is philosophically dead, we're related by blood."

"No, we're not," he replied bluntly. "Come on, I can be quick, if you want. I can be rough, I can shove you down and have my way with you, or, we could take all night, long and slow and teasing."

He licked his lips slowly.

"Anything you want, darling."

He opened his mouth, completely ready to agree, then closed it again. As lovely, as deliciously depraved his brother's propositions sounded, they were brothers.

"I...you disgust me," he said weakly, sitting back down on the crate. It was probably better if he didn't stand up for a while. "We're brothers. You never did this when we were younger."

"We're not brothers," he replied, leaning over Reed. He leaned his head close to his ear, just centimeters away. "Reed, you know you want this, you've always wanted this, and you can't deny your own, humanly urges."