Rise.

When Marik got home, Loban was pacing in the front room. He growled immediately, put his ears back and was ready to defend. Loban looked at him, casually, shook his head, and went back to pacing. Marik hated him. His older brother always had a way of making him feel like a yipping pup.
"What are you doing here?"
Loban stopped, looked at his brother.
"You cannot smell it?"
Marik furrowed his brow, mystified.
"Smell? I -"
It hit him like a stone, and he raced past his brother, chasing the scent into the bedroom, where his mate was lying in bed with his brother, Euan, sitting beside him. Marik's heart was racing.
"Róan!"
His mate looked up, weakly, and waved. Fear subsided into worry as he rushed to his mate's side. He nuzzled his mate, took in the familiar scent of Róan, tinged with the sweetness of pregnancy, but waylaid by the ugly, thick scent of sickness.
"What's going on?"
Euan squeezed his brother's hand.
"Róan collapsed; he hasn't been eating, apparently, and then there's the stress." Here, Euan looked pointedly at Marik, then back to Róan. Marik laid his ears back.
"What stress?"
Euan ignored him.
"The doctors suspect a diabetic pregnancy, but they gave him a chew and it might pass."
"What stress is he under," Marik repeated, growing angry, "And why wasn't I contacted?"
"Róan," Euan snapped, "Didn't want to worry you."
"You should have told me anyway!" Euan almost backed away - it was still difficult for him to challenge a voice of authority - but then his brother squeezed his hand and suddenly it didn't matter.
"You should have taken better care of your mate!"
Loban raised an eyebrow at the unexpected outburst from his generally meek mate. Marik stepped back. His ears went flat.
"Get out."
"You couldn't make me."
"GET OUT!"
"I am his brother!"
"GET. OUT!"
Marik lunged at Euan and suddenly there was a snarling, growling, massive wolfe in between them. Euan cowered and Loban bared his teeth at Marik. Marik dropped his tail and backed off immediately, and Loban relaxed his muscles, shook his head.
"Never again, Marik."
His voice was warning. Marik couldn't meet his eyes, looked instead at Euan, who was standing near to Loban's back. He felt a tug on his hand and followed it down to meet Róan's eyes; his mate was watching him with a worried expression.
"This is what stress he's under, Marik." Euan almost whispered from behind his mate's protection. "Your anger is making him sick."
Then they stood there, the three of them across from each other, just taking in the air, and suddenly Marik was angry again and he kicked over the little round bedside table. Róan flinched in time with the breaking glass. Euan moved to go to him, but Loban pulled his arm and held him back.
"Euan, come. We should go. Marik can take care of him now."
Euan looked back from his mate to Marik, clearly reluctant to leave his brother. Róan waved from across the room.
"Go, Eu. It'll be fine. I'll see you tonight."
Euan nodded, crossed the room, touched his brother's cheek, and went to the door. Marik turned to face his brother.
"You get out as well."
Loban pushed himself off of the door frame and stalked towards the younger wolfe, who momentarily felt like stepping back. He bit down the visceral, first-line reaction. It was only a remnant of a childhood understanding. His brother had no draw over him now. His brother would not rule him. He straightened his back. Loban caught him by the neck, pulled him forward so that their foreheads touched and Marik could hear his pulse beating steady in his neck.
"Take care of your mate, Marik. You get only one."
Loban was going to say more, but a small voice in the doorway interrupted them.
"Alpha Marik?"
Medin was home.
Worried eyes took in the strange company, the disarray and the broken glass on the floor. He took in Róan, lying still in the bed, and his gaze switched immediately, fearfully, to Marik. Too absorbed with glaring at Loban, Marik didn't notice. Róan released the grip he'd had on the cloth of Marik's robe and reached out a hand to Medin, who came quietly to him. The boy (but past fifteen now, and looking less so every day) climbed into the bed with him, nestling silently into the crook of his arm and too afraid to look at Marik.
"Is this how you live, little brother?" Loban asked his brother quietly. "Is this what you want?"
Marik felt the resentment rise up again - his brother, his perfect brother, here again to save the day. Well, he'd be damned if he'd let him win again, and he'd be double damned if he let him think that Marik had been wrong. With both hands, he shoved his brother backwards, propelling him towards the door.
"A life without you in it," Marik snarled, "is what I want."
Loban looked at him, really looked at him for a moment before he turned tail and was gone. The room felt empty without him. Róan exhaled slowly. Medin lifted his head, then turned back away and refused to look at Marik. Marik paced the room for a moment, casting one glance, then two at his mate and son, his little family. Then, before Róan could ask him to join them in bed, he turned, stepped over the broken glass, and left.
In his absence, Ro and Medin slept.

~:~