Chapter 92 – Where Are You, Brother?
It happened in the blink of an eye.
Dante moved so fast, faster than anyone watching could process.
He appeared right in front of Leon, hand pressed against his chest, fingers curled.
The crackle of energy pulsed between them like a dying sun, begging for release.
His hand was ready to strike—
—to end it.
To rip Leon's heart out.
To kill him.
And Leon didn't move.
He didn't stop him.
He just looked at him with burning eyes full of defiance.
"Do it," Leon growled.
His voice trembled with fury. "You did it before, didn't you? Brother killer—isn't that what they should call you? Now do it."
The Void Force surged behind him, red lightning painting the sky above in streaks of hate.
But Dante didn't do it.
His body trembled. His hand shook. His eyes…
They weren't angry anymore.
They were wet.
He was crying.
From the forest edge, Barry, Caitlin, Cisco, Wells, and Jay stood still, witnessing a moment that wasn't meant for anyone else.
They saw it—not just the tears—but the boy beneath the rage. The man behind the guilt.
And then they heard his voice.
Soft. Broken.
Dante whispered, "Please… don't let me do this. I'm begging you, Leon… I can't."
His voice cracked like a child pleading in the dark.
He wasn't a warrior. Not a speedster. Not a god.
He was a brother.
A grieving, shattered brother.
Leon's face shifted. No longer furious. No longer cruel.
He stood in silence as Dante's voice trembled again, raw with guilt.
"I'm sorry, Leon… I didn't know. I was angry. Stupid. I thought you… I thought because of you our little brother died. So I—" he choked, "—I killed you."
A sob escaped.
"I've lived with that guilt. With that hell in my head every day. Every night. It never left.
So please…" he dropped to his knees. "I can't do this again. Don't let me do it again…"
For the first time, Leon said nothing.
He didn't scream.
He didn't strike.
He didn't raise his voice or his hand.
He stood still.
And when Dante's tears fell from his eyes, one of them slid down and landed beneath Leon's own.
For a moment, no one could tell—
Was it Dante's tear… or Leon's?
The sky above them stopped roaring. The lightning quieted.
The storm… paused.
Dante spoke again, barely able to breathe.
"I'm tired, Leon. I'm hurt. I'm…"
He looked up, eyes red, haunted.
"I wish I'd die, big brother. I wish the earth would just open up and take me.
I don't want to live anymore."
His voice broke.
"I'm not a hero. I'm not anything.
I don't want glory, or vengeance. I don't want to be the fastest, the strongest.
I just want you.
I just want my brother."
He looked into Leon's eyes.
"So please—don't let me do this."
Leon stared at him.
And for a moment—his lips parted. A breath came.
But then—
Music.
It floated through the air like a whisper. Soft. Ethereal.
"Dites-moi d'où il vient...
Enfin je saurai où je vais…"
A voice—clear as glass. Sad as heaven.
An angel's voice. Calm, yet full of pain.
Everyone turned.
Even the wind stopped to listen.
Out of the trees, a shadow walked toward them—small, soft-footed. A boy.
Barely fourteen years old.
A beautiful face. Dark hair. Deep eyes.
Wearing clean, elegant clothes that shimmered gently in the stormlight.
He kept singing.
"Pas vrai? Où est ton papa?
Dis-moi, où est ton papa?
Sans même devoir lui parler
Il sait ce qui ne va pas…"
His voice echoed across the broken battlefield, weaving through the cracks in the earth.
Cisco stared, stunned. "Who is that…?"
Barry's body froze.
His lips parted in disbelief.
"I… I know him."
Dante turned slowly, heart still beating like a war drum in his chest.
His breath caught.
Leon—Leon froze completely.
The boy kept walking.
Clapping softly as he sang, his hands echoing like little drumbeats in the night.
"Où t'es, papaoutai?
Où t'es, papaoutai?
Où t'es, où t'es où, papaoutai?"
He came to a stop.
Right between Dante and Leon.
And smiled.
An angel's smile.
Not one of judgment.
But one of sadness.
Dante stared at him, unable to speak.
He didn't know why—but something in his soul screamed his name.
Leon took a step back.
The boy looked at both of them, then tilted his head.
"Hi, brothers," he said.
The world stopped breathing.
Cisco whispered, "Brothers?"
Dante's eyes widened.
His lips trembled.
And then… he spoke.
"Michael?"
The boy smiled brighter. "Yes. It's me."
The world broke open.
Dante dropped to his knees again, hands shaking as he reached out to his little brother.
He wanted to hold him.
To hug him.
To cry on his shoulder.
To beg for forgiveness and never let go.
He reached—
But before he could, Leon moved.
A burst of red lightning. A blur of desperate motion.
He shoved Dante hard, sending him flying back into the dirt.
And then—
Michael moved.
His hand glowed white.
And with a soft smile still on his face—
He plunged it into Leon's chest.
Dante screamed. "NO!"
Leon gasped—eyes wide, breath stolen.
Michael's hand emerged slowly, gently…
Holding Leon's heart.
Still beating.
Still pulsing with Void energy.
But there was no rage.
No scream.
Just silence.
Michael looked into Leon's eyes with tears forming in his own now.
"I'm sorry, big brother," he said softly. "But you can rest now."
Leon didn't speak.
He didn't need to.
He closed his eyes.
And for the first time in years—
He looked at peace.
His body collapsed.
The storm above shattered like glass.
And all the world went quiet.
Dante crawled to them, grabbing leon, holding his brother, sobbing with the grief of a thousand lifetimes.
Michael said nothing more.
He just looked at Dante
A little bit confused
The three brothers—together again.
But never whole.
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