Ichabod was vaguely aware that Ben had wondered off, but to be honest right now he didn’t care what his brother did. He was only focused on Kerr. In the study there was the antique desk, currently covered in piles of books and scribbled notes on various papers Ichabod was working on (from the mortal university). Propped up on the desk and bookcase there were a couple of photos of scenes which hadn’t been there before, not the best quality so clearly printed at the chemist, not anywhere professional. Berlin, Rome, and one of James bundled up against the cold on a mountain trail, taken on a long weekend at a place only a couple of hours from the city.
Ichabod didn’t use email all that much apart from studying, so if Ben managed to break the password to the computer then he’d only really find typed up versions of those scattered notes. The emails were about his courses and the shifts he did at the library which he’d made himself sign up for so that he would have a reason to leave his apartment.
In a bottom drawer of the desk Ben might find a printed out map with the location of the Academy circled and a couple of noted directions scribbled on it. There was a list of various classes tailored towards vampires which Ichabod had considered for a while. But after one trip there Ichabod had never returned, he’d never even signed up for them. There was too much risk of running into Ben there and the idea of someone else teaching him the things Kerr was supposed to… it was too much. It had been over a year since Ichabod had even opened that drawer.
Whilst Ben rooted around, Ichabod curled up contentedly on the seat beside Kerr, his knees pulled up into his body and his hand still outstretched towards his sire, clasping his gently. He felt his stomach twist as Kerr began to explain. Ben found the book. The book Kerr had to hide away. If Ben hadn’t’ve done that then none of this would have happened. The thought that this was Ben’s fault wasn’t a new one, but there had always been the shadow of Themba to blame it on more, even without a clue to what had happened. Ichabod tried to shove that feeling down so Kerr wouldn’t recognise it, but he was nowhere near as good at it as Ben was. He forced himself to focus on the rest of the story though, trying not to dwell on that anger.
“Another plane? I didn’t even know that kind of thing could really happen,” he said, trying to wrap his head around it. If it had been anyone other than Kerr telling him then Ichabod doubted he would have believed it. There were so many questions he would have asked about the vault, about accessing it with that mark, about what else was in there, but he wasn’t thinking of that right now. “It’s been so long, we thought… but for you it was nothing.”
His eyes dropped downwards, a frown creasing his forehead. So for Kerr it was a night, maybe two. For them it was a year and a half. “You were dead.”
He lifted his hand from Kerr’s to rub over his eyes. Ichabod felt them prick with threatened tears but he also just needed a second to not focus on the sire who’d left them behind. He knew it wasn’t Kerr’s fault, how could he had known? But at the same time, how had he been so thoughtless? Kerr always seemed so in control, so knowledgeable. How had he not known?
“When did you realise it had been so long?”