Of Little birds and Gods Grace

"Don't say that." Shiloh spoke firmly. Wiley was squirming in his grip, moving forward so he could hold Kenai. So he let the boy go, instead moving to take Sitka's hands in his own so the man could not pull out any more of his hair. "You didn't fail. I don't want to hear you say it. This isn't on you."
Sitka always felt the need to save everyone. Shiloh had learned that soon after meeting the man. It was one of his favorite qualities of the Native but also one of his least favorite. Because when Sitka failed to save someone, this was what happened.
"This isn't your fault." He dropped a kiss into the man's hair, unusually sweet for him as he held the other man.

"Sitka will not argue with you."  The native's eyes were sharp, hard in a way that they had never been before.  His voice came out sounding rough and ferocious, nothing like his normal calm softness. It was as though he'd lost part of himself, the very moment he snapped Kenai's neck. 
"Sitka was supposed to watch them! Sitka was to take care of them in place of our parents and look now! Kenai is dead and Denahi is a monster."  The words stunned even him, doubling the native over as though the breath had been knocked out of him. "Sitka let them go. Sitka broke his little bird."
Denahi made him do it.
"Do not try and pacify Sitka. He knows what he has done and what he has failed to do."
He had been laid up with Shiloh while his brother had been dying.
Sitka could hardly look the boy in his face, even though he knew Shiloh had nothing to do with it.  
"And now Sitka must take his little bird home."
But Kenai would never come running through the living room again, and the boy wouldn't be bouncing around in the kitchen early in the mornings, even before the birds had started their songs, continuously pestering him about when he could go get his Kwanita. 
The boy would never go giggling to his room after kissing Wiley goodbye.
Sitka took one look at his little brothers face, already paling with death, and thought he was going to collapse.

Shiloh took Sitka's face in his hands then, bringing the man in until their foreheads rested together.
"We're going to take little bird home. We're going to bury him, we're going to give him a proper funeral. And then we're going to get through this. Because that's what we do. We get through things." He spoke firmly, looking into the man's eyes. "You can't save everyone, bear." Somehow Sitka's nickname of bears claw had shortened to simply bear for Shiloh. Only Shiloh called him this, though. And even that was rare. Shiloh preferred the man's full name usually. "It's not your job to save everyone. You can't blame yourself for this. You didn't know. You trusted Denahi to be watching him. It was him that failed, not you. He was in charge of protecting Kenai tonight. You can't be there 24/7 to save everyone." He already knew the thoughts running through the man's head. He knew how Sitka was blaming himself, thinking of what they'd been doing while Kenai was dying. He hated it, wished that he could somehow get through the man's thick skull and make him understand that he was allowed to relax sometimes. It wasn't his fault that he had let his guard down for one night so they could have some alone time.

Sitka's face merely broke with anguish.  "You know it is not that simple, Philtatos." Most beloved. He couldn't stand to argue though, play the blame game.  He knew where fault lie.  It would never happen again though.  Sitka would never experience another moment of peace.  He would always be waiting for Kenai to come running down the hallway, giggling and squeaking to be saved from Denahi.
His little bird.
God, he should have been watching them.
And what if Denahi had gotten Wiley to go with them?  What if they had lost all three of them and he'd had to look at Shiloh and be responsible?
All because he had wanted a night to snuggle and lay in bed, memorizing Shiloh's figure outline against the stars.
"Come, let us take little bird and his Kwanita home."  Sitka drew away from Shiloh's hands, unable to hold the boys gaze.  The young native no longer felt he deserved such pleasures.  His little brother would never experience them. 
The native crouched down beside Wiley, his strong arms wrapping carefully around the boy. He made sure Kenai was held securely, his knees feeling weak as he put his eyes one the limp figure once more.  His little bird had never been so still, he was always bouncing and chirping about something. 
He'd never hear Kenai's laughter again. 
Sitka was forced to settle Wiley back down, his entire foundation crumbling under the weight of that truth.

"I know. But we have to try to make it that simple." Shiloh had learned how to handle tragedies. The loss of his mother, his abduction, then the death of his father. By this point he had learned to keep his composure. Sitka and Wiley were all he had now. Normally, Sitka was his rock, his savior. But now it was his turn. He scooped Wiley into his arms, carrying the boy cradled against his chest like an infant. "You get little bird. We'll take care of him and then we're all sleeping in your room tonight." Lord knew they would all need each other.

Sitka watched Shiloh for a moment, his mouth open but there was nothing but silence aside from Wiley's constant sobbing. 
Finally the native gathered Kenai against his chest, his fingers trembling in a way that had never been.  Even after his parents had passed, Sitka had remained strong, like a dark rock for his siblings and Shiloh to lean on. But now...
He was crumbling.
His brother had never been so heavy as he was then as Sitka lifted him.  Their home had never felt as though it were so far away.
Not a home at all anymore.
Sitka nearly stumbled when he entered the home, his heart feeling as though it were lodging itself into his wind pipe as he carried his little bird down the hallway and into his bedroom.  He settled Kenai carefully against his pillows, even zipping Wiley's jacket tighter against him and pulling the blankets up as though it would make any difference. For a moment Sitka stayed that way, kneeling beside the bed with his hands at Kenai's shoulders. 
He knew it would be the last time.
There was a hole to be dug. A place to be picked out. 
But Sitka simply couldn't bring himself to move.

Shiloh and Wiley had already made it home, Shiloh taking his younger brother into the bathroom to clean the small scrapes on his legs from all the times he'd stumbled in his panic to get to Kenai tonight. Wiley was whimpering softly all the while, even as Shiloh finished and carried him back to Sitka's bedroom.
"Do you want him to sleep with us for the night or would you rather we bury him now?" The blonde questioned Sitka. "I can dig if you want." He understood Sitka was not able to.
"He's sleeping in here." Wiley answered for the both of them as he crawled into the bed and pressed himself into Kenai's cold body. He wanted to stop crying, wanted Kenai to wake up and hold him. He knew that wasn't an option anymore but that didn't stop him from wanting it.

Sitka was silent for some time, his eyes like black voids against the darkness of his cheeks. They no longer had any luster or shine, no softness to offer. 
There was nothing.
Just two black holes, consuming everything with their hardened dullness. 
"We will do as his Kwanita wants. Sitka will bury Kenai tomorrow."  The young native never tried to move onto the bed, allowing Wiley to have his time.  He wouldnt feel right, anyways. Laying in a bed with his little bird's cooling body.
Impossible.
"Kwanita, you are to braid his hair as he liked you to. And pick him flowers in the morning." It was as though Sitka's soul had left with Kenai's. He was going through motions, making plans to prepare for his brothers burial but he wasnt truly there. Sitka would have climbed into the bed and curled around Wiley, held onto Kenai's hand and maybe even want Shiloh to hold him.
This was not Sitka.

"I'll do that." Wiley nodded obediently, sitting up and tugging Kenai so that he rested in his lap and he could easily braid the boy's hair. He tried to stop crying, hating the way that his tears landed against the boy's tanned skin. "I love you." He murmured softly to the body in his arms, deciding to pretend that he was still here, still alive. Maybe Kenai could still hear him.

Shiloh watched his younger brother for a moment more, deciding that the boy could use some alone time. He glanced over to Sitka then, his arms winding their way around the man's waist, pressing him close. He didn't like how cold the man was acting but of course, he understood it. He just hoped he could try and help the Native get through it.
"Do you want to go to another room to sleep?" He questioned gently, realizing the man did not want to sleep in the same bed as his brother's corpse.

The way Wiley's tears landed made it look as though it were the paling native in his lap who was crying. If Kenai had been alive and able, he would never let his Kwanita cry in such a way, and he'd be furious that no one was holding the boy in his stead. His Kwanita was too precious to be hurting, and to only made it worse if Wiley was all alone. 
His little bird had never let him be alone.
But his little bird was gone.

"Sitka does not think he will know sleep tonight."  Or any other night.  Every time he closed his eyes he could see Kenai's face, panicked and confused.  He could even feel the way his brothers neck had cracked, and how Kenai had fallen limp in his arms.
The boys last breath had landed against his neck.
"You should take care of Wiley. Kenai would want someone with him."  Sitka's voice was a terrible thing, hollow and strained.
"Sitka will handle himself.  He does not need to be held."  He did not deserve it. If he had been a better man his little bird would still be giggling somewhere, probably high in the willow tree with Wiley.

Wiley was singing a soft song under his breath as he braided Kenai's hair, trying to stop his tears as he wished the boy were still here to wipe them away. He began to speak aloud then, hoping maybe somewhere Kenai was hearing him.
"I miss you already, little bird... I hope you're not still hurting wherever you are." He trailed off then, realizing he had never felt so utterly alone. Of course he loved his big brother but Shiloh had never been the same after those few days he'd gone missing. It wasn't his Shy anymore. Kenai and Denahi had become his best friends in the world and now both of them were gone. He couldn't believe that just hours ago he'd been laughing with Kenai and giving him kisses as Denahi rolled his eyes. And now, just like that, they were gone.
And he was all alone.
No more early morning kisses when Kenai showed up at his home by surprise. No more kisses with the boy hanging upside down from their tree. No more cuddling in the grass and looking up at the stars. No more daydreaming of what their future would bring, because they had no future anymore.
He would never get to mother Kenai's children, never get to actually be Wiley Sandoval, never get to see Kenai all grown waiting for him as he came home at the end of a long day of work.
It was over. No more little bird.
The realization cause him to squeeze Kenai tighter, trying to pretend the boy was there with him still. But it just wasn't realistic. He would not be crying if Kenai were here. His little bird wouldn't let him be sad.

"Sitka." Shiloh spoke firmly then, still holding the man close to him. "Do you remember what you told me on the day you saved me?" It was known he must be serious, because he never liked to speak of his past, especially those few dark days. He'd been so weak then, pathetic. But it was when Sitka had fallen for him, after all. "I said I wished there was a way I could repay you and you told me that there was one thing I could do. If I ever saw someone suffering, help them. So that's what I'm doing. You're suffering. I'm not letting you go. Wiley... I don't think he'd like to be interrupted right now anyways. I'm not letting you be alone tonight because I know exactly what is going on in your head." To leave Sitka alone with his thoughts would be terrible. The man would only depress himself more with thoughts of all he could have done to save his little brother.

"Sitka loves you."  The native's arms found their way around Shiloh's waist.  "But you cannot save everyone. Sitka learned that tonight." The blonde in his arms had been the one to point it out.  "Sitka doesn't feel human anymore."  He felt like a monster himself.  He had been the one to snap Kenai's neck.  His little brother had been a bright star, and while he still couldnt imagine watching the boy burn out, it seemed like a dream remembering that he had been the one to snuff the boy prematurely. "Lets be with the song bird now.  He needs us.  Kenai would not want Sitka to leave him alone."  The native finally pushed himself up, his heart filled with dread as he crawled into the bed with Wiley and the sagging body of his baby brother.  Sitka moved so that he could lay beside the boys, his arms curling tightly around Wiley's waist as he worked to braid Kenai's hair.  The youngest of the Sandoval's had always loved that. He'd tie the braids in and wear them for days at a time.  He might have even wanted it done for their wedding day that would never come.

Shiloh watched for a moment before stepping forward, lying on Sitka's other side, letting Wiley have his space to braid Kenai's hair.
"I love you, bears claw." Wiley murmured softly, the tears evident in his voice as he turned so he could cry into the man's neck. "We gotta stick together, okay?" His voice cracked as he spoke, his hold on Kenai getting progressively tighter with each passing minute. Sitka was all he had left. The man had always been almost like a father figure to him.

"Of course we do, song bird.  Sitka could never let you go."  The native gathered Wiley closer against his chest, tan fingers tangling into the boys blonde curls almost desperately. "You are Kenai's pride and joy.  And you are all bears claw has left." He had lost is little bird and his crocodile.  He couldn't lose Wiley. "No matter what happens, you will always have Sitka."  He would protect the boy with his life, in place of his baby brother.  "He knows how little bird loves you. He would never allow you to get away. Kwanita is the most precious thing in the word to Kenai." Sitka couldn't bare to speak of the boy in past tense. It made his heart feel as though it were shriveling up.  To combat this the native found himself pressed back against Shiloh, one of his hands moving to fasten around the boys fingers.