Closed An Arachnid Funeral

[Theodore Westwick]

Theodore didn't often cry, but when he'd found his beloved spider Victor dead in his cage he had shed some tears. A part of him had known it was coming, as the spider hadn't been himself in weeks. But he had tried to deny it to himself, pretending that it wasn't happening in the hopes that that would make it go away. It was a cruel joke from the universe, making this happen right as he was starting to feel happy again. Things were wonderful with Zoe, but now... he felt like a small child and needed his brother. No one but Edmund could understand how upset he was, how much the spider had meant to him. Edmund still had Shelley, his own spider. In some of his research about tarantulas as Victor was starting to act strangely, Theodore had found out that female tarantulas lived a lot longer than males. It made sense that Victor had died before Shelley, though Theodore had still quickly checked up on Edmund's pet to make sure she was alright. She had been fine, but his own pet was dead. And it hurt.

He'd decided that Victor needed a funeral, and had found a spot near the edge of the great forest to do it. He'd wanted Zoe to be there initially, but had asked her after a bit more consideration if she could stay away. There was someone else he wanted to come, and if that person came, it would be best if they were alone together. Theodore hadn't actually invited his brother. That had been too scary to do. Instead, he had done something they had used to do as children, something he knew Edmund would understand and see for what it really was. Theodore had left an invitation on Edmund's bed for Shelley, the spider. He didn't actually think a spider would turn up on its own or even understand the concept of a funeral, but it was a way to invite his brother without directly inviting him. That way, if Edmund didn't come , it would be less painful. Maybe. Theodore was standing with the tiny box he had put Victor in, holding a black umbrella to protect himself against the light drizzle that was setting the mood for the event. Tears were gathering in his eyes as he looked at the tiny box. He'd dug a hole, but he was waiting to put Victor in it. He didn't know if he could do it alone, and he was waiting for his brother to come. They had been fighting and not speaking for years by now, but surely, surely, Edmund would come for this.

Note he left on Edmund's bed:

Dear Shelley,

We regret to inform you that your dear friend and companion Victor has died. You are formally invited to the funeral near the forest after dinner tonight. Please wear all black if you come to pay your respects.

You may bring one guest.

Please come, Ed.

Theodore Westwick.

 

[Edmund Westwick]

Edmund didn't know what to expect from a note on his pillow, but there weren't a lot of good things it could be. The best case scenario, Edmund supposed, was perhaps a rose message that had been forgotten long enough that its accompanying flower had withered away. That seemed unlikely though, and so he had opened the note with no small amount of trepidation. Whatever he might have expected though, it was nothing compared to the wave of horror and pain and loss that struck him as the message sunk in, sorrow penetrating deep to his bones. Victor... Edmund felt as though it had almost been yesterday he and Theodore had been allowed pet spiders - a significant maturity milestone in their childhoods. They had each cherished the companions, and their tarantulas had been a formative element of both brothers childhoods.

They had written stories of their spiders adventures, loved and cherished them, brought them on many an adventure around the sprawling abandoned sections of their family home. And now Victor was just... gone. A huge, gaping hole carved in his childhood memories with his brother. Their feud didn't once cross Edmund's mind as he changed into appropriate mourning clothes, or moved Shelley from her habitat to a smaller carry cage. That was petty, meaningless. A member of their family was gone, and Edmund felt smaller, younger than he had as the child he had been when they had first brought Shelley and Victor home. He held a black umbrella over himself as he stepped from the castle door, making his way to the edge of the forest, never even questioning for a second which area of the border Theodore would be in. Even after feuding for so long, Theodore's decisions still sometimes almost felt like another part of Edmund's own being. It didn't strike him until he was actually looking at his brother that this would be their first proper contact since the duel months ago. Edmund swallowed back his sudden nerves as he approached, silently taking a place that felt so natural at his brother's right hand side. Theodore left-handed and Edmund right, mirror images of the same person, just as they had always been. He remained silent for a long moment, drawing a trembling breath as he stared down at the box in Theodore's hand. A member of the family, simply gone, just like that. As much as death fascinated him, right now Edmund just felt that it was deeply unfair. "I'm sorry..." He said softly after a few moments of silence as he set Shelley's cage down on the grass, not quite able to bring himself to look his brother in the eye, even now. "He was too young..."

 

[Theodore Westwick]

Even though Theodore was holding the umbrella, a few drops of rain landed on his face. He didn't mind, it might make it harder to see he was crying. The boy was standing on his own, and starting to worry that Edmund wouldn't come after all. What would he do if he didn't? He didn't think he could do this by himself, but the idea of leaving Victor here to go find Zoe was strange too. He wasn't sure what he was going to do, and all of his thoughts were overshadowed by sadness and grief. But when Edmund approached, Theodore knew it without having to turn around to look at him. He felt a sinking feeling of relief, and only glanced at Edmund by his side before bending down to place the box on the ground. Edmund said the first words to him in a long, long time. And Theodore had just one way to react to it. Without saying a word himself, he turned to his brother, dropped the umbrella, and threw is arms around him, clinging to him for dear life. It was as if Edmund's words gave him permission to cry. He buried his face in Edmund's shoulder and cried for his pet, and for the nearly two years he'd missed his brother being by his side like this.

 

[Edmund Westwick]

Edmund had had no idea how to expect Theodore to behave today - would things be uncomfortable? Would Theodore be rude, even at a funeral? Would they simply mourn in silence? - but he certainly hadn't expected what happened. A tiny, small part of Edmund, one he would barely admit to if pressed, had hoped that this could begin to bridge the gap between them, but Theodore had always been the more withdrawn twin, never first to act, never the one to reach out. Now, though... Edmund felt his brother's arms around him for the first time in what felt like eternity, and any thought he may have been carrying that he was mature or aloof fell away as Edmund hugged his brother back, clinging to Theodore like a lost piece of his own soul. He could feel and hear Theodore crying and ran a soothing hand across his brother's back, even as he struggled not to cry himself. Their fight felt like a burden both boys finally felt ready to set down, and without that weight on his shoulders the only thing Edmund wanted was his twin.

 

[Theodore Westwick]

Theodore felt like if he let go of Edmund, he'd fall apart. He clung to him for dear life, tears streaming from his eyes. He wasn't just crying about the spider, though he missed his dear friend a lot. He was crying about the last two years, the distance between him and Edmund. There was relief too. Relief that they were once again close. He wanted it to stay that way, for this not to be a one time thing. He pulled back slightly so he could look at his twin, not caring that his crying had made his face blotchy and red and that his glasses were undoubtedly crooked. "Will you stay by my side?" He asked in a small voice. "Edmund, I'm really sorry." And he found that he was. He had acted cruelly and jealously, and only now that he had Zoe did he understand just what he had done. "Will you help me bury him?" He asked softly, adjusting his glasses as he attempted to compose himself.

 

[Edmund Westwick]

Hugging Theodore again felt like embracing a lost piece of his own soul. Edmund held onto his brother for dear life, worries he didn't even know he had been carrying melting away as he finally set aside years of hurt. In the end, things were fine. What did the past matter now? Carrying that pain wasn't important at all, compared with having his brother by his side again. Edmund only released Theodore when he pulled away, looking at his brother anxiously. His worries were immediately calmed by Theodore's request and he nodded immediately, sighing heavily in relief when his brother apologised. "I'm sorry too." He said softly, hands fidgeting slightly. "I... missed you. So much." It was a sentiment that Edmund knew his brother echoed, and the relief at finally being reunited was overwhelming. After years apart, Edmund could once again rely on the one person who knew him better than anyone. The happiness and relief lifting him up was swept out from underneath by Theodore's next question though. Edmund's face fell, but he nodded. "Of course." He said softly, looking down at the small box on the ground again. "He will be missed immeasurably." As Edmund and his brother went about the somber proceedings of burying a beloved member of their family, there was a strange, small sense of rightness, even to this tragedy. Even horrible things were sufferable, as long as Edmund's other half was by his side.