So, this is a bit hilarious...so...don't expect too much. I hope, it's not too bad.

The years passed. Malcolm continued to write letters to Angus, pretending they were from their parents. Malcolm took care of his brother, took him to prom, studied with him for graduation, and taught him as much as he could. Angus was delighted and eagerly learned to play the guitar. Malcolm already could. They both started a band, which they called AC/DC. The first crew was crap so they kicked them out and put new band members on. The other boys lived with them in the same house.

"Bon! You drank my milk again!" Angus exclaimed indignantly. Bon and Angus started arguing when the doorbell suddenly rang. Phil opened it and there were Mrs. and Mr. Young. They went in, put down their luggage, and took off their shoes. "Ma! Dad!" Angus shrieked excitedly and a fell around their necks. The parents were completely taken by surprise.

"Hello, Angus." Margaret smiled.

"I missed you so much." Angus wailed, hugging his parents.

"Where's your brother?" Asked William. At that moment, Malcolm came down the stairs. He had a pad in his hand and was walking towards Bon.

"Look, we create the sales. I was right. We pay for the recordings and still keep 70% profit."

"Malcolm." Said William. Malcolm ignored him.

"You see, Bon? I was right." Bon, Phil and Cliff looked at Malcolm a little questioningly, as the rhythm guitarist pretended not to have visitors.

"My son?" Asked William again. Malcolm stiffened. "We're here to get you and Angus."

"We wanted to go on vacation with you." Margaret smiled. Malcolm turned slowly and looked at his aging parents. Margaret opened her arms so that he could hug her, just as Angus had done. The younger was still happily attached to his parents.

"I am not going to hug you." Malcolm said coldly.

"Oh, your mood is very good." Laughed William.

"What do you want here?"

"We want to do something with you."

"Why now? After 22 years?" Malcolm asked.

"What do you mean? We were there for you." Said Margaret.

"When?"

"Always, of course. We're your parents."

"Are you sick, Ma?" Malcolm asked, putting a hand on her forehead. "Since when do you see me as your son?"

"Always."

"Angus, come here." Malcolm said sternly, holding out his hand to Angus. But Angus didn't move. He was hanging in his father's arms.

"I want to stay with them, Mal. I haven't seen them so long." Malcolm swallowed the lump in his throat.

*

In the evening, they sat on the sofa and looked at pictures.

"You were such a great boy." Margaret smiled as she hugged Angus.

"How do you want to know?" Malcolm asked quietly. Everyone looked at him.

"I'm his mother. Of course I know that." She laughed.

"Can you really call yourself a mother?"

"What do you want, Malcolm?" William asked sternly. Malcolm picked up the album and opened a page. It featured Angus as a baby.

"Who took this picture?" He asked.

"Me." Margaret grinned.

"No you haven't." Said Malcolm.

"Yes, of course."

"No you have not. I took the picture. That's why it's blurry, because I was too weak to hold the camera straight."

"That is nonsense. When you're two years old, you don't take photos." William laughed.

"Oh, that's bullshit?" Malcolm asked irritably. "Is it bullshit when I say that you didn't take care of Angus?"

"Yes! Absolutely! We were always there for him!" William exclaimed, caressing Ang's back as the younger one was leaning against him. Malcolm took a deep breath.

"Okay. You wanted it like this. You were always there for him!?" He screamed now. "You weren't there for him! Angus, I'm going to tell you things now that you won't like, but it's the truth and it's your story and you should know the truth! You were born and brought home. Ma and Dad were always busy. Whether it was George's training, work, or Stephen's piano lessons."

"That's not true!" Shouted Margaret indignantly.

"Then tell him the truth!" Malcolm yelled angrily. "Come on! Tell him who raised him! Tell him who gave him the bottle, so he wouldn't starve! Tell him who changed his diaper! Tell him who sat next to him and comforted him when his teeth grew!"

"It was me, Angus." She smiled at him and stroked his hand. Malcolm was seething inside. Angus looked back and forth between Malcolm and his parents.

"How should you have been it, if you were never at home!? You were always on trips! I taught Angus to speak! I saw him take his first steps! I heard his first word! I was there! At every station of his life! I wanted him to have a happy childhood! Not the one I had! I was never a kid! I was never allowed to be one! From the time Angus was born, my childhood was over without it really starting! Other two year olds can't even walk properly! I wrapped Angus!"

"That's not true. You're just making it up."

"So I make up, that you weren't there for him. Were you? Were you there for him!? Were you there for him when he started first grade!? When the kids teased him and he came home beaten up!? Did you take care of him afterwards!? Did you teach him to read!? Did you make his school cone!? No! Because you weren't even there! You didn't iron his school uniform! You didn't cook for him every day and you didn't study with him! You weren't there at his communion! Other children had their parents with them! Because you didn't come, I did! You didn't hold Ang's hand when he was hospitalized with meningitis and almost died! You didn't talk and cry to his comatose body because you thought you would never hear his beautiful voice again! You didn't have to deal with a depressed, suicidal 13 year old Angus! You were never there for him! You didn't hear his first word! You didn't see his first steps! You weren't at his first swimming competition, nor were you at the concerts he gave with his first band at school! You didn't wipe his vomit away when he had vomiting!" The friends and parents looked at him in shock. Malcolm's body was trembling badly and his voice seemed to be failing.

"Mal ..." Bon put a hand on his shoulder, but Malcolm slapped it away.

"You didn't have to deal with Angus coming up to me every night and asking me if his parents still loved him. You didn't have to read every goddamn night good night stories for him! Every bloody night! You haven't been to parents' evenings! Yes, I went there! Believe it or not! You don't know how it feels when your brother has done something wonderful and you see it." Suddenly Malcolm was crying.

"You don't know how much it hurt to see him suffer. You all don't know what it felt like when I worked hard for six months to scrape together the money for Ang's guitar, put it under the Christmas tree and pretend my parents had sent it." Angus looked wide-eyed at Malcolm. "You have no idea how it feels when you forge letters and pretend they came from your parents, only to see Angus beaming and happy because the letter says, "I love you, Sweetheart"! You don't know what it feels like when your brother thinks his parents did all of this, but in reality it was you. I feel sorry for you. You are the poorest people on this planet. And do you know why? Because you didn't see your son grow up. Angus was the most lovable, curious, tenderest, creature I have ever seen in my life. He just wanted a little, a little bit of affection. But even that was too much for you. I feel sorry for you because you never saw Angus take his first steps, the way he smiled when his first tooth fell out and he thought the coin under the pillow was brought by the tooth fairy." Malcolm stood up.

"Angus, I'm terribly sorry. I was the most terrible brother ever. I cheated and lied to you. I'm so sorry." He went into his room crying. They stared after him in shock.

"Is that true, Ma?" Angus asked, wiping his eyes with a sniff. There was no answer. "Is that correct!? Did Malcolm raise me!?"

"Yes." Said Margaret softly.

"Get out!" Angus yelled. "Out! Both! And never show up again! I don't need you!" He threw his parents into the street and then collapsed crying in Phil's lap.

"Sh. It's good." Phil muttered and stroked Ang's head.

"Malcolm. I have to see Malcolm!" Angus shouted, jumping up. He ran upstairs to his brother's room. It was dark in the room. Angus walked slowly across the room and heard a loud sniff. He turned and saw Malcolm in the faint moonlight that fell through the glass door into the room. Malcolm was lying shirtless in the corner between the closet and the dresser, crying. Angus could see that he was holding a knife. "Put the knife down now!" He screamed angrily.

"Let me." Malcolm whimpered, turning his head to the wall. Angus turned on the light and was startled. Malcolm was bleeding. He cut himself. Angus ran forward, snatched the knife from his brother's hand, threw it in the other corner of the room, and took Malcolm in his arms.

"Malcolm." Angus cried as he cradled his older brother.

"I am so sorry. I know that you hate me now." Malcolm cried.

"What? Why should I?"

"I forged letters and lied to you." Malcolm sniffed loudly and whimpered. He raised a shaky hand and ran it through Ang's shoulder-length curls. "I'm so sorry. I thought I was doing the right thing for you. But I lied to you and cheated on you. I'm so sorry." Malcolm closed his eyes and curled up.

"You lied to me, yes, that's right. But only for my benefit. OK? I'm not mad at you." Angus said, stroking Malcolm's head.

"I'm so sorry."

"Did you really buy me the guitar?" Asked Angus curiously. Malcolm nodded weakly. "Where did you get the money from?" Asked Angus with wide eyes.

"I got my pocket money, savings and other money together and then worked. So I could afford the guitar." Malcolm sniffed.

"Oh, Malcolm. Why? It must have felt awful when I was happy our parents sent it to me." Malcolm nodded slowly.

"Yes, it was awful. But on the other hand it was wonderful because I saw how happy you were about it."

"The letters I ... wrote back ... you've read them all, haven't you?" Malcolm nodded miserably.

"I'm so damn sorry! I'm the worst person in the world!"

"Hey, stop saying that. I ... I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"That I was so stupid and that I thought it was all from Ma and Dad. You raised me like your own son and you probably loved me more than Ma, Dad, George and Stephen combined. I was so naive. I'm so sorry."

"You don't have to apologize." Malcolm sniffed. "You were too small to think about something like that."

"And you weren't!? You were just a child!"

"Ang, I was never a child." Malcolm sighed sadly. "I didn't have time to play with cars or draw on a piece of paper."

"I'm so sorry. I ruined your life." Angus cried now.

"Hey! Don't say that! Don't fucking ever say that again! You were the best in my whole life! And think about it, if you hadn't existed, then I would have been alone all my life."

"You're right." Angus sniffed. Malcolm sat up and looked miserably at Angus.

"Please forgive me, Angus. For everything I've done. I can never forgive myself, so it doesn't matter if you can't either." Angus hugged Malcolm tightly.

"I forgive you, big brother. I love you so much. I'm sorry." Angus cried and hugged Malcolm so tight that the older man could hardly breathe. "You should have told me."

"I couldn't. I didn't want to. I didn't want you to know. And today ... I couldn't listen to Dad and Ma pretending to be the best parents in the world."

"I love you so much, brother."

"Love you too, brother." Malcolm smiled. They split up.

"Let's bandage that." Said Angus, getting a bandage from the bathroom. Then he bandaged Malcolm's bleeding arms. "What is that from?" He asked when he saw a large scar on Malcolm's pelvis bone that he had never noticed before.

"Combustion."

"From what?" Asked Angus, running his finger over the scar tissue.

"Hot milk. I was two years old. It was winter, we were home alone and I heated milk for you. When I wanted to pour it over, it fell down and then that happened."

"That sure hurt, right?"

"Like hell." Angus looked at him sadly.

"And ... what is that?" He asked as he traced an elongated white scar on Malcolm's nipple. The older one shuddered at the touch. Angus smiled a little.

"It actually was you." Malcolm chuckled. Angus looked at him with wide eyes.

"That was me?"

"Yes. You were hungry and I was so stupid that it occurred to me that I could just imitate what Ma did to you at the very beginning. And then you bit into my chest with the one tooth you had because milk teeth are very sharp." Malcolm chuckled. Angus continued to look at the scar and then laughed too.

"Oh, man." He chuckled. "And that?" He looked at an elongated scar on Malcolm's neck.

"Your fingernails. You had long ones."

"And ... that?" He held Malcolm's hand in his and looked at the long scar on Malcolm's palm. "I've always wondered what that is about."

"We were on a trip together. You were eight. We were eating at an amusement park and you threw the plate on the floor. The owner said that I should pick up the broken pieces."

"And that's where you cut yourself?"

"Yes." Angus continued to look at his brother's body. Malcolm watched with a smile.

"Mal?"

"Mh?"

"Why is your hair so short up here? It's not a pony, but it's not a normal long haircut either." Angus mused as he pulled the hair which hung into Malcolm's face.

"You said you'd cut my hair. You were 10. So you took the scissors and cut. The back hair turned out fine, but you cut it that way at the front. I was pissed off at the beginning and wanted to cut it off, but when I looked at myself in the mirror, I realized that it actually looked good."

"And then you kept your hair like that forever?" Asked Angus, eyes wide. Malcolm nodded. "And why is your thumb always so dark here?" He held Malcolm's left hand.

"We were still living in Scotland back then. We went sledging and you lost your glove. Because you were cold, I took off mine and gave it to you."

"So this is frostbite?" Asked Angus, eyes wide.

"Yes. The rest of my fingers looked the same. With them, however, the color disappeared. Not with this one."

"Oh, Mal. I'm so sorry. You have scars all over your body. Just because of me." Angus whimpered.

"Hey. Don't cry, Ang. I like the scars. And do you know why?" Angus shook his head sadly. "Because they're reminding  me of wonderful experiences. I look at them and relive the moment. I go to sleep and experience my whole life with you again, only faster. And no one will ever be able to take these memories away from me." Angus pressed against him.

"You're the best brother ever."

"No, it's you." Malcolm whispered, wiping away a tear. "It always was you."

THE END;