Harbingers 1/4; So plain, so stale it kills.

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Author: azzy
wip: 1/4
title: Harbingers/Pestilence/So plain, so stale it kills.
warnings: OMG there be plenty, this is very, very dark, depressing and disturbing, no likey? no readey. Images are work safe, throughout all the 4 chapters, but the text is not.
rating: N17/ M+, for language, adult situations and so forth.
AN: This is seriously the darkest piece of sims story I have ever written, suppose I just had to get it out of my system. If you read along, I hope it’s worth it. You can find all the sims as downloads at babybulletproof@lj, thanks to all the people who helped me with my image issue. ( And in case you are confused, Camillo is a name he bought after he split with his family.)

|| you shatter me your grip on me a hold on me
so dull it kills you stifle me infectious sense of
hopelessness and prayers for rain I suffocate I
breathe in dirt and nowhere shines but desolate
and drab the hours all spent on killing time
again all waiting for the rain

you fracture me your hands on me a touch so
plain so stale it kills you strangle me entangle
me in hopelessness and prayers for rain I
deteriorate I live in dirt and nowhere glows but
drearily and tired the hours all spent on killing
time again all waiting for the rain ||

– The Cure, Prayers for rain.

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Camillo had gotten off the bus two stops early, walking the rest of the way. He needed air, he needed to clear his head, asking himself why he even came here. He hated this hospital, ‘Our Mercy’ It should have been ‘Our Misery’. So why had he come here? He wiped the rain from his face, biting his lip nervously. The answer was simple, Grey. His baby brother. Or rather it had been his twin sister, Helene who had called him. A call he had avoided, didn’t want to talk to his family, he would rather pretend they didn’t exist, even if it was impossible. He had none of their numbers, didn’t know the addresses of either his sisters. Hadn’t talked to either Imogen or Helene since they and he had fled their parents house, fled.. It was the right word for what he had done, he had seen a way out, taken it and ran all he could, never looking back. Not until now, not until Grey had forced him to deal with them.

Camillo looked up at the huge brown stone walls of Our Mercy. Helene had told him Grey had attempted to kill himself, he was in the belly of this beast now, Camillo frowned, and he was not getting out. Grey was dying, and that was why he had been called.

“You are only a kid.” He said to himself, running his wet fingers over the slimy feeling stone wall. A little cold smile spread on his lips, hadn’t he been the same age?

“Hey dork!” He heard a light voice call. Turning around, he waved measured back to his twin sister.

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He walked over to the benches where Helene sat. She put out her cigarette with her boot and turned to her twin. “I wasn’t sure you’d come, you sounded so strange on the phone.” She said.

“Honestly then I wasn’t sure either.” Camillo said with a little apologetic shrug. “My therapist told me not to go.”

“Your therapist?” Helene asked.

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“Yeah.” Camillo mumbled. “Company policy, and then the therapist felt like I should visit some more, and that is the understatement of the year.”

Helene tilted her head and stared at her brother curiously, though the rain. “What do you do?” Surprised that she actually didn’t know. Suppose that went to show how close they were as adults. The one person she had shared everything with as a child, she didn’t even knew how to embrace as adult.

Camillo smiled one of his rare amused smiles. “I edit other authors spelling errors.”

“Say what?” Helene asked, baffled.

Camillo shrugged and pushed wet hair from his sight. “All famous authors might know how to make a story interesting, but they have terrible grammar. And that is where I come in.” He scratched his cheek idly. “Basically I get to read all the cool stuff before you do, only minus is that I have to spell my way through it first.”

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Helene got to her feet, and walked over to where her brother stood, soaked. “I remember now.” She said softly, leaning in to kiss his cheek gently. “You wanted to be a writer.”

Camillo just stood there and let her kiss his cheeks, before he nodded. “I did.” He stared right into her green eyes, and for a second it was as if no time had passed at all, for a fleeting moment it felt like they were still kids. “What about you?” He asked, knowing he was polite, and not really interested. “Did you ever become an actress?”

Helene laughed softly, shaking her head. “No.” She pocketed her hands, and looked away from her twin with a embarrassed smile. “I drive a school bus.” She mumbled.

“Really?” Camillo asked.

“Yeah, the same route as we took.” She smiled, “I drive by mothers house every day.” She laughed with a little soft sound, “Sometimes I imagine us standing there, waiting for the bus yanno.”

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Camillo sucked in his breath, and then smiled politely, shaking his head. “Honestly, no I can’t imagine that.”

Helene shifted her balance from left to right foot, wiping rain out of her face. “Have you heard from Imogen?”

Camillo shook his head. “Isn’t she here?”

“No she lives in the valley I think. I imagine she has to catch a plane.” Helene rubbed her shoulders cold from her rain soaked sweater. “If she comes at all.”

“The Valley.. Wow..” Camillo smiled. “She did well for herself I reckon.”

“Mother said she married some rich bastard.” Helene said with a shrug.

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When Helene hid her face in her hand, Camillo just stood there in amazement over that it seemed to be hard on his twin to say that their sister married and moved away. “W-what’s wrong?” Camillo asked with a tiny voice, raising his hand to place it on his sisters shoulder.

“Amanda.” Helene whispered. “I’m sorry Ruben, it’s just.. all this, and then, her. It’s just too much.”

“Your girlfriend?” Camillo asked softly, peeking at his sisters face between her fingers.

“My fiancé.” Helene sighed, removing her hand, looking directly at Camillo. “I thought that she was the one, I thought she was special, you know?”

Camillo smiled and nodded, even if he had no clue, never having had any girlfriend. He had tried to visit a prostitute but had left before she had unhinged her bra, feeling dirty and wrong. “I’m sorry.” He said, squeezing his twin’s shoulder empathetic.

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“It’s okay.” Helene said with a little fake smile that resembled a tick more than a smile.

“I think I saw that girl you were kissing when we were teens the other day at the market.” Camillo said, “What her name? eh.. Bug something.”

Helene laughed softly, “June. You dork.”

“Oh.” Camillo laughed too.

“What about you?” Helene asked, “Got anyone special?”

“Besides my bedbugs?” Camillo said in a lame attempt of a joke, which apparently did not work on Helene. “No.” He just said, raking a hand through his hair, giving his sister a lopsided smile, “No one.”

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“Oh, I’m sorry.” Helene said, rubbing her neck idly. “I’m sure mother would have liked to see you married off with 2.5 kids.”

“I’m sure she would.” Camillo huffed, but looked away from her sister, and straight up into the grey skies, blinking to not get rain his his eyes. “I am never having children.” He mumbled, “What about Ginny, Do you know if she got kids?”

Helene shook her head, “Not that I know of.”

They both stared at each other, feeling sort of stupid for holding on to lies they knew to be true, even to each other. They had indeed been programmed well, Camillo thought to himself.

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“Ruben?” Helene said softly, “You do realise there no chance that Grey wakes up, right?”

“Is he on life support?” Camillo asked. Not bothered to correct his sister on his name, deciding it wasn’t all that important right how, and he wouldn’t blame her for having forgotten.

Helene shook her head, “No they took that away for a day ago, right before I called you. We thought he might be okay, until last night.” She sighed heavily. “It’s mothers call, she is still his legal guardian.”

Camillo’s eyes widened. “What..” He cleared his throat nervously. “What did he do?”

“Ate some stuff, mothers pills I would imagine, drank all of the household cleaners in the house, and that cocktail..”

“He made sure they couldn’t save him, huh?” Camillo whispered, knowing exactly what Grey had been thinking.

“Yours were more of one of those cry for attention things.” Helene stated with a small laugh.

Camillo frowned, “You really think that?” He turned around and looked up at the hospital. “Is she in there?”

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“Hey! I’m sorry.. I just always thought..” Helene said, reaching for her brothers hand.

“You assume too much.” Camillo said darkly, not taking his eyes off the building. “So is she in there?”



“She is up at Grey’s room.” Helene said, feeling her twins hand go limb in hers.

“Okay.” Camillo muttered, “Let’s go. I want to see Grey.”

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Walking through the hospital corridors, passing rest rooms, file cabinets, elevators, anyone but these two would have been confused and lost.

“What about Bill?” Camillo finally asked, “Is he even still alive?”

“He is.”

“Is he… Is he here too?” Camillo asked meekly, watching the sunset outside the windows, wishing he was anywhere than here.

“No.” Helene just stated. “He’s at home I would reckon.” A long silent pause followed, where only their steps in the empty hallways were heard. “What the hell is he thinking? His son is dying, and he isn’t here?”

For a split second Camillo turned his head and looked at his twin flabbergasted. “I wouldn’t know.” He finally said with very little persuasion.

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“Maybe we should go and get him?” Helene suggested, “I have a car at the parking lot and..”

“I’m gonna stay here and see if Ginny shows up.” Camillo said, returning his gaze to the now dark, and wet outsides.

“Yeah, you’re right.” Helene sighed. “We should wait for Ginny.” She grabbed Camillo’s arm, snaking her under his, resting her head on Camillo’s shoulder. “Do you think she will? Come, I mean.”

“She will come.” Camillo stated, “I came didn’t I?”

“You did.” Helene cooed as she guided them down the hallways.

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Helene let go of Camillo’s arm, and while he continued a little longer, she turned around the corner. “Helene?” Camillo called.

“Yeah?” She asked innocently.

“Where did you go?” He turned and looked after her down the hall.

“I just wanted some nuts.” She lied, franticly searching her jeans pocket for change for the vending machine. “Just continue straight out, Grey is in room 4576.”

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But instead of going on, Helene found Camillo waiting for her as she had bought her nuts. “Mother is down there, isn’t she?” He asked softly, while glaring slightly accusing at her.

Helene sighed and dropped her head. “Yes she is.” She looked up again, “I just don’t want to be a part of your fight, unlike you two, I like mother.”

“of course you would.” Camillo hissed, showing the first sign of emotion that day. “She was never nothing but kind to you.”

“Exactly.” Helene hissed back.

Camillo just stared at her in disbelief, and even if he didn’t want to, her self-righteous anger, annoyed him. “Did you really forget, Helene?”

“FORGET WHAT?” Helene yelled in his face. “God!” She spat, “I remember first Ginny and then you, you who were my twin, ran off and never as much as called, a postcard.. anything, it was as if me and Grey had never existed in your little selfish universe! I remember me, Grey, mother and Bill..”

Camillo just shook his head. “You really forgot.” He stated, and just started to walk down the hall towards Grey’s room.

“I didn’t mean to yell at you.” Helene said as she caught up.

“I know.” Camillo said softly. “institution jitters.” He stated.

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He hadn’t seen his mother since he had left that hell house for almost 15 years ago. She looked old, her hair had been blonde, now it was grey. He even smiled as he heard her swear at the combination locks on the nurses lockers. Always the opportunist, mother.

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“Mother.” He said barely audible, but still it felt like he was yelling. He waited for her to turn around, he didn’t know what he was hoping for, a hug? maybe a confirmation that he was crazy, and that Helene was right? “Helene called me.”

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Carol turned around and stared at her son, and for a moment she just stood there, studying him with her dark eyes. “Ruben.” She whispered.

“Mother,” Camillo said softly, “I haven’t had that name in 15 years, you know that.”

“I was told that, yes.” Carol huffed. “Nothing was ever good enough for you, was it? not even your name.”

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A loud pop was heard as a lightening split the sky and apparently hit a powerline, hospital generators picked up, but the room where Camillo stood and stared at his mother remained in darkness, like if the hospital itself was against them being there.

“I swear it wasn’t like that.” Camillo offered lamely, taking a step back as Carol suddenly lounged out.

“Wasn’t like that?” She howled, “Is that the only apology you can come up with?”

“I.. I was told it was better for my c-career.” Camillo hickupped.

Carol momentarily crossed her arms, and stared at her son again, those unrelenting black eyes. “Liar.” Carol then spat.

“It’s not a lie.” Camillo mumbled, knowing full well it was, when he had left, he had wanted to leave everything behind him, including himself, and so he had bought himself a new name to go with his new identity. Back then he hadn’t realised that names does not chase ghosts away.

Carol turned her head and looked away in contempt. “Properly bought yourself another surname too.” She huffed.

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“I didn’t.” Camillo whispered broken. “How do you think Helene found me?”

Helene looked at her mother and then nodded. “It’s true.” She said, “I found him in the phone book.” She smiled at her twin. “Mr. Teitel, Silent Robin estates.” She shrugged, “I honestly didn’t even know you changed your first name.”

For one desperate moment Camillo wished he had changed his surname too, but somehow that would be severing all ties, and maybe he had not been ready for that yet? “I got my own apartment,” He mumbled, “A nice one with a balcony.”

“And just who do you mooch of now?” Carol asked icily.

“No one!” Camillo burst out, “I earned all that on my own, I worked for that apartment, and it’s mine!” He sniffed. Wiping his nose with the back of his hand, looking away from his mothers unforgiving gaze. “Anyway, I came to see Grey.” He mumbled into his sleeve.

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Helene held out her hand, “Come on then.”

“No.” Carol stated, staring at Helene who’s arm dropped to her side. “You!” She pointed at Camillo, “You stay away from my son, I don’t know why Helene called you.” She glared at Helene who dropped her gaze to the floor. “But you are not welcome here.”

Camillo turned his head and looked at his mother, he didn’t voice it, but he didn’t understand why she was that angry with him. He looked at his twin and sighed, “Would you tell him I was here?” He asked.

“No.” Helene said, “You are.” She returned their mothers glare to Carol. “You came to see Grey.” She looked from Carol to Camillo and back again, “Honestly mother, what harm could it be?”

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“It’s okay.” Camillo said hurried, “I came, and that is all that matters, really.”

“Bollocks!” Helene spat, and held out her hand a second time. “Come on, I know where he is.”

“Helene!” Carol warned.

“Mother, go buy yourself some coffee or something.” Helene shot back, “This is between Ruben, Grey and me.”

“And Ginny.” Camillo added meekly.

“..And Ginny.” Helene repeated. “But she is not here right now. You are, so come on, lets go see Grey.”

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Helene opened a door, letting Camillo walk through it first, he stepped gingerly into the poorly lit room, eyes fixed on the silent figure in the bed. “Why was mother so defensive?” He asked.

Helene stood in the doorway, leaning up against the door frame. “Grey found your diaries, I don’t know how, I don’t think anyone told him of the loose board in the closet.” She shrugged, “I think mother blames you, since he did this right after he found them.”

Camillo paled, “My.. My diaries?” He turned and looked at his twin, “You knew where they were?”

Helene nodded, “Me and Ginny both, but even if I wanted to read them, Ginny said that it was your privacy, and I sorta.. Well I never read them.”

He looked back at Grey in the bed. “And you found them?” He asked silently, “You must have spent quite some time in that closet to be bothered to look for a loose board.” Camillo fisted his hands, on and off. “Dear God.” He whispered. He turned to Helene, his eyes puffy as was he about to cry. “Can we go now?”

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As they came back to the visitors lounge, Carol had come back with her coffee. Camillo stood from the soft chair and stared directly at his mother, years of loathing, and fear pooled in the pit of his stomach as he rose his voice. “What did you do to him?” He asked, his tone slightly trembling.

“How dare you?” Carol huffed, dismissing whatever it was Camillo would have said next, by turning her back to him.

“Hey dork.” Helene called, “Lets go grab something to eat while we wait for Ginny, huh?” She smiled “Besides I could really do with a fag.”

Camillo watched his mothers back for a moment more, and then shook his head sadly, and walked after his twin to the elevators.

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Outtake, just because I really liked this image, but couldn’t find any use for it.
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