Elliot stepped through the door, tossing his jacket onto the coat rack. The familiar clink of metal caught his attention. Turning, he found Guest, not doing homework, not watching TV, but playing with a gun—again.

"Elias," Elliot's voice was sharp, his brows furrowed. "How many times do I have to tell you? Put that down."

Guest shot him a mischievous grin. "C'mon, I'm just practicing."

"Practicing what? Getting yourself killed?" Elliot moved toward him, grabbing the gun with a swift motion, holding it firmly.

"You're not a soldier. You're—"

"Well, I could be," Guest interrupted, cocking his head. "I could take you down in a second."

Elliot raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

Guest grinned.

"Bet you can't pin me down this time."

Elliot smirked. "Alright, kid. Challenge accepted."

In an instant, they were on the floor, grappling. Guest tried to twist free, his laughter mingling with his brother's teasing words. "You’re getting slower, Eli!"

Elliot easily caught him in a hold, pinning him to the couch. "Slow? You couldn’t even keep up with me if you tried." He began tickling Elias mercilessly, causing Elias to squeal and laugh, his body writhing beneath his older brother's grip.