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You Must Know You Are Beloved

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“He hates me.”

Allison looked down at her injured brother with a look of disagreement. “Don’t start, Allison. He hates me and you know it. He has since we were ten.”

“Luther, Diego doesn’t hate you. He has issues, all of us do.”

“Allison, I got shot tonight. Did you see him here?”

“Yes, you got shot tonight. And Mom says your not out of the danger zone yet, so get some rest.” Allison said, stroking his hair gently. She stood up and walked out the door. When she turned down the hallway coming face-to-face with Diego.

Diego stared down at his feet, seemingly ashamed. “Is uh- is he alright?”

The blonde woman stared her brother down. “No thanks to you! As soon as we got home you ditched, what were you thinking?” she yelled, whacking him on the arm. “I don’t-”

“He thinks you hate him.”

Diego’s head snapped up. “Why would he think that?”

Allison raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think I need to answer that.” She stepped towards him. “Diego, he could’ve died tonight,” she said in a low voice. “h ell, he could still die! Do you want him to die thinking that you hate him? I didn’t think so! Go talk to him, now!”

Allison pushed passed him and continued down the hallway.


Diego stopped in the doorway of the infirmary. The anxious feeling weighing on his chest alleviated slightly when he saw that his brother was asleep.

He walked in slowly, with quiet, purposeful steps. He sat in the metal chair in silence.

“So- so I guess- I guess I should say that I’m-”

“Take your time.”

Diego jumped at the quiet voice, and saw Luther’s tired, blue eyes staring contently at him. “I thought you were sleeping!”

“Well, as Klaus says, I live to disappoint.”

Diego was unamused.

“Couldn’t sleep.” Luther admitted. ‘He still lookes really pale’, Diego noted. 'Just as pale as when-’ Diego remembered the moment when he realized that his brother had been shot. The rush of adrenaline he felt as he rushed over, the blood that covered his hands. 'It felt like Ben all over again.’


He jumped again. “What, yeah?”

“You wanted to tell me something?”

Diego stared at his feet. He had thought of what he was gonna say, but in that moment it all seemed to fly out of his head.

“I don’t hate you.”

Luther seemed surprised, but he quickly put a mask back on.

“I mean, I can see why you might think that, but I don’t. No matter how irritating you can be, you’re my brother and I love you. A lot. And when you got hurt tonight- I panicked. I didn’t want to see you like that. But I love you and I don’t want to lose you, like I lost-”

“Like you lost Ben?”

Diego’s eyes darted away. “Yeah.” He said, shutting his eyes. He opened them again when he felt something warm engulf his hand. Luther had grabbed his hand.

“I love you too.”

Diego felt sharp spikes of affection stab through his chest. The sickly guilt dissapated, and he let a small smile ghost his face. He felt tired, and apparently Luther felt the same, because he was asleep.

Diego tried to pull his hand away, but found that he was stuck. Oh well. His heavy eyes shut and he slowly fell unconcious.