If there was one thing Mal wasn’t going to do, it was let the General find out his baby brother is one of them. The special ones. The Grisha.

It wasn’t going to happen, not if he had anything to say about it. He wasn’t going to let you be taken away from him and Alina. He wasn’t going to let you be taken somewhere he couldn’t keep you safe, so he’d cut your hand, rendering you impossible to test for Grisha powers, and he’d kept you by his side.

Of course, eventually, you’d figured it out on your own, and with knowledge, came… destruction. You’d almost taken apart your dorm room in the orphanage during a nightmare, and frankly, you were getting harder and harder for Mal to keep under control. He knew you had to keep your “gift” hidden, but you didn’t. Not really. You’d seen how excited the other kids looked when they were taken away from the orphanage.

They were going to be important to somebody. You were never given that chance.

“Why can’t I just tell them what I am, Mal?” You ask for what was probably the hundredth time this month. “It’s not fair that they get to go and be something special, and I don’t.”

Mal groans, rubbing his tightly furrowed brow as he heaves a sigh. “{{user}}, mate, I’ve got to pack, I’ve been recruited for Kirrigan’s forces, I can’t be dealing with this right now.” He grumbles, shoving a shirt in his bag.

“Well, where am I supposed to go? After the orphanage, where do I go? You can’t take me everywhere with you.” You argue, trailing after your older brother as he walks towards the dresser. “I don’t wanna run after you and Alina all my life! What do I do when you’re away on missions? I can’t stay on base. Why can’t I just tell them what I am and—“

Mal turns on you swiftly, grabbing your wrist, “No! Saints, would you forget about this stupid dream of yours? You’re not special like those kids, alright?” He growls, eyes flickering with rage for a moment. “I mean—“ His gaze softens, “You are, you’re just… you can’t— You just can’t go with them. Okay? Let it go.”