Blaine always loved playing with pillows.

His mother didn't mind, she kept him confined to his room due to his condition: photosensitivity as it was currently known.

In short: he was allergic to the light, and therefore most of the year remained closed up in a dark house, reading by lamp light, or writing a letter to his brother, who at the time had been in France fighting in the War.

Cooper didn't have the disease he did.

Pillow fights were, in fact a favorite pasttime of his and his older brother. It was the only form of rough play they could get away with, being that Bernadette Anderson was terrified of Blaine getting sicker and dying (ludicrous as Blaine figured the only way he was going to die at thirteen years old was if his mother decided to spontaneously drag him into the open sunlight).

Their mother was many things, if not fearful for her younger son's health. She had anger issues, she was a devout Catholic who made sure Blaine knew the Bible from back to front, and drilled him endlessly on the gifts of the Holy Spirit, which he was to master, in addition to a few other tasks he was to complete in the process, before he recieved the sacrament of Confirmation. Cooper had agreed to be his sponsor.

In other words, in a week, Blaine would officially become a member of the Catholic church when the parish priest visited next week.

Had Blaine not had a disease that confined him so, he would have been confirmed with the rest of the teenagers in the parish in February.

But his mother had rushed things, begged the priest to come administer the sacrament two months earlier than was normal.

Nobody really questioned it...the people of Lima were sympathetic towards Mrs. Anderson, due to the loss of her husband to the War a year earlier. (though most readily admitted the loss had changed her...and not necessarily for the better).

But as long as she didn't physically harm the ill son that still lived in the massive manor with her on the outskirts of Lima, everyone minded their own business.

"Coo, I'm supposed to be studying!" Blaine complained as his twenty-three-year old brother smacked him playfully in the head with the pillow he was holding.

Cooper grinned.

"Come on baby brother, you've studied enough -- you know your stuff and you're going to dazzle Mom with how well you do next week." he dropped the pillow at the foot of the dark haired boy's bed and climbed onto the mattress, curling carefully around Blaine like he'd used to when Blaine was younger.

The yawn that left his throat made the teen giggle.

"How can you possibly be tired? It's not even ten yet." he said.

Cooper watched the dull lamp light (the brightest setting that was allowed within a foot of his brother) flicker over Blaine's face.

"I'm not." he protested.

"You've turned lazy after all the action," Blaine teased.

"No, I just..." Cooper yawned again. "...really...really like your bed."

Blaine snorted and turned the lamp off before laying his head on the brunette man's chest. Both of them were asleep within minutes.

They never knew Bernadette lingered outside the door, a pillow of her own clutched under her arm, a pistol clutched in one hand.