Dimitri had been puzzled by the sudden invitation —insistence, almost— that they meet up again, after what seemed so long past their last encounter. Perhaps it was for the best, to allow them both some time to deal with all of their respective, undying issues. Undying, indeed —if he put things into persepctive, it really hadn’t been that long at all, had it? Not in a lifestime that spanned indefinitely into the future.
Still, he had arrived early, and had been nursing a glass of lemonade. It was barely touched by the time Augustus arrived, but it had sat there long enough to go warm while he waited and twiddled his thumbs.
When he saw the other man walk in, he straightened his back and offered a smile, friendly though a little nervous.
“Not so long for us though, really, is it?”
A smirk tugged at the edge of Augustus’s mouth. “True enough,” he said as he pulled the chair back and sat. He remembered when he was newly turned, reconfiguring the way he thought about time. The impatience with which he tried to make the months and years feel shorter, as if that qualified his immortality even more. The way his sire had once admonished him: there’s no need to squander your life just because you have more of it. Then he shrugged, coming back to the present. “Though rest assured, as quickly as certain moments will go by, the passage of time will often feel drawn out and slow. For better and for worse.”
"Regardless, it has been a while since we’ve properly spoken,” Augustus said. “How have you been adjusting lately? Better, I hope, than how I found you.”
He did not mention anything about how he was faring, or the state he’d been in the last time they’d been in the same room. Part of Augustus hoped it would not have to come up at all, though he supposed he needed to acknowledge it. There was no other way to secure his role as the powerful, collected vampire mentor. He might’ve lost precious weeks of his influence to other, less desirable vampire mentors, but now that he was back to himself he would make up for it tenfold.
He realized, too late, in the parking lot behind the restaurant, that he hadn’t at all thought this meeting through.
“Shit,” he muttered, pressing his forehead to the steering wheel. How did this slip past him? Dimitri lived with Charlie, and he hadn’t even considered the possibility that the newborn vampire knew about what had happened. Surely Charlie would have let Augustus know? Or maybe it was foolish of Augustus to think they would be secretive about all of this.
This car was too hot, he decided, because there was no other reason for his face to be so flushed. He decided that he wasn’t going to bring it up until he knew, for certain, that Dimitri already knew. Newly resolved, Augustus stepped out of his car and walked to the front door. The younger vampire was already waiting for him, and Augustus nodded to him in greeting.
If news that all those years ago Augustus had been taken against his will shattered Charlie’s heart, learning this utterly devastated him. He thought back to his time in Arlempdes, how he waited just an extra day after his supposed-leave date, on the off chance that Augustus might come. He should’ve waited. He should’ve trusted, had faith, anything. But Augustus had read his letters, he was well aware how quickly Charlie lost faith he would ever see the older vampire again. How they served as nothing more than diary entries, shouts into the void of his longing to see August again.
All those years, wasted. An eternity that rested within just under a century, and all of it could’ve been avoided had Charlie just allowed himself to love wholly after losing Gabriele. Well, no longer. No more forbidden languages, forbidden acts, forbidden feelings. No more walking around on eggshells of the ever-growing shrine he held for her. He could honour the love they shared and still love Augustus with his whole heart. This was possible. It was only fear that stood between them.
He took steps forward to close the distance between them, and stood there, hovering, arms halfway outstretched. He knew, with August as he was now, that touch could never come unannounced. Yet another thing he had known all along but refused to acknowledge. He thought back to the gentle kiss he had given him after Vermillion, how wrong he had been then to make an action of kindness become a weapon. “Il n’y a rien à pardonner,” he said, and then, in English, “I promise, I won’t ever leave you again,”
Charlie had moved closer, when Augustus lifted his head. He was standing on the same side of the desk, now, offering his hands, waiting. Augustus hesitated, as though he was waiting for a catch, a condition, something else thrown up in the way of things. It was an odd feeling, this ease, this promise, this getting what he wanted without much of a fight. He’d resigned himself already when Charlie came walking in. How was it that the thing he wanted the most, he fought for the least, and got anyway? He could hardly believe it.
The only thing keeping him, he supposed, was himself. Some persistent, expansive fear that this was all going to go wrong. He thought again about how he was always alone, and heartless, and cruel and cold and he liked it that way. He insisted, always, that he liked it that way. Because the alternative would only bring him pain. But he was already hurting. It had happened anyway, despite his best efforts. So maybe he was softer than he wanted to be. But for once it seemed to bring him something good.
“You better not,” he mumbled, reaching his hand out to take Charlie’s, to pull him gently even closer. “I mean that, I’ll murder you if you break my heart again.” The tiniest of smiles tugged at his lips as he spoke, but his face was still guarded and cautious. He was moving into uncharted territory, or at least calling back to something he’d long considered dead, gone, never to return. The strange feeling grew even stronger, but it was like his hands had been waiting, all this time, to hold Charlie again. Augustus took a deep breath. “Okay. D’accord, mon amour.”
His heart went out to Augustus. At that moment, he realized something important that should’ve been obvious all along. Charlie and Augustus were one in the same, two sides of the same coin. Afraid of love and what it had done to them. He watched the sadness form in his eyes and felt it reflect in his own. All this time he had kept Augustus at arm’s length, when all he wanted was to be in his arms.
There were so many things, even when they were together, that he had forbidden himself from ever doing or feeling if only to protect himself. Though he had cried many times in front of the older vampire, he had never truly been vulnerable. Never truly allowed himself to love him wholly. Yet Augustus, after everything, was willing to try. He was willing to let Charlie back in, even though both parties had yet to fully allow that.
Strangely, he thought of Gabriele, how his love for her had still survived all these years. How so many rules he had against loving Augustus had surrounded around her and her memory. He realized he had a choice: either he could continue to love a ghost, or he could love the man in front of him.
He thought of all the things he could say and do at that moment. How he could thank him, close the distance between them and hug him. Something so soft and gentle as an embrace felt right in the moment, but it wasn’t quite perfect. Though he was rusty from lack of use, though the words took him far too long to come up with, he spoke: “La vie sans toi ne vaut pas la peine d'être vécu”
When it was over, the first time, when Augustus had accepted that he and Charlie were through, he remembered thinking I can finally start speaking French again. But he hadn’t. Couldn’t, perhaps, was the better way to describe it. The words died on his tongue every time he tried. Even now, wanting so badly to return the sentiment, to assure Charlie that the stricken look on his face was not what it seemed like, he came up with nothing.
He’d spoken it so often, especially with Charlie: little comments meant just for him, sweet nothings, quiet signs of his love, but it always made the younger vampire flinch. For Charlie, it was a reminder of a woman that he’d always love first, or more, or worse. Eventually, Augustus caught on, switched to something else to mutter in his ear, kept his disappointment a secret.
Was this permission? An admission of something, a promise of a future for them? Whatever it was, Augustus surprised the both of them with nearly bursting into tears in response. He turned his head away, fingers resting beneath his eyes as if he could push it all back inside.
He used to be so mad at Charlie, for making a language feel forbidden. But when they parted, he finally understood.
“I went to France,” he said quietly, in English. “After I found the letters, I went to Arlempdes. I just missed you and I’ve never forgiven myself for it. I can’t go through that again. Tell me that won’t happen with us again.”
Charlie genuinely considered what Augustus was saying, for the first time since entering wavering slightly in his confidence. It was exactly that about Augustus that made him wary in the first place: his tendencies towards cruelty. As much as Charlie believed, now, that there was so much more to Augustus than that, perhaps Augustus didn’t want to change.
So what did that mean, then? He wasn’t sure. At least, not right away. “I’ll hold you accountable,” he said, eventually. “When you’re cruel, when you’re the asshole, again and again, I’ll hold you accountable to your actions,” he said, with steadfast sincerity.
He laughed lightly, a short chuckle. “Augustus, you have always been the asshole. When we first met, you tried to kill me. I loved you then, as much as I love you now. I didn’t come here today because I realized you could be broken and mild-mannered, I came here today because all of the reasons I had to stay away no longer made any sense, not with what I know now, not with what you’ve told me.” He took in a breath, and exhaled slowly. It was one thing to acknowledge it to himself, but another thing to say it out loud, to give it to Augustus to do with what he pleased.
“The real reason I was staying away is because…I was afraid. I haven’t had the greatest luck when it comes to love, but I trust you. I trust you because I love you.”
"Neither have I,” he said automatically, surprising himself with speaking. He had sunken inward a bit as Charlie spoke, looking slightly stunned. What in the world did he mean by holding him accountable? He tried to think of a time when someone had done something similar, but every instance he could recall felt more like revenge, more like throwing the cruelty back in his face. That was how it always was. The world was cruel so he was crueler, and when the world fought back he was crueler still.
But Charlie had sat there, thought about it, probably recounted every awful thing he’d done or said or went into detail about, and chose to stay. Augustus’s guard was so thrown he didn’t have time to rearrange it, and his face was plain and honest, eyes a little sad. “With love, I mean. I haven’t have the greatest luck either.”
He felt as though he was touching a live wire. “Truthfully, I thought the whole emotion was pointless, or that it does more harm than good. Still do, sometimes.” Slowly, he lowered his arms. Augustus wanted to hide now more than ever, but he managed to do the opposite. “And it’s a rule of mine to not trust anyone. Especially not twice.” He paused again, took a deep breath. “But I can... try. Because I... feel the same. I, love you, too.
Knowing Augustus as well as he did, Charlie actually did not assume the question was rhetorical. In fact, he knew very well that Augustus was serious in his asking, which stung greatly. I feel terrible every time I’m around you. All you do is hurt me. Part of him wanted to antagonize him, to respond in kind — after all, wasn’t his conversation with Finley outlining just that? That all Augustus had ever done was hurt him, too?
All they did was hurt each other.
But it was always rooted in misunderstanding and fear. August was hurting Charlie at this moment out of fear, of being hurt again or something else — but fear nonetheless. And it occurred to him that the older vampire had every reason to feel that fear. Charlie had given him nothing else, over the course of a century, but a reason to doubt and mistrust. In fact, even longer than that: for the better part of their relationship in the 19th Century, Charlie spent it comparing Augustus to Gabriele, and even still he held a flame for his deceased first love. With that in mind, he paused himself, though he did not falter in his confidence.
“I can’t say. I can’t say that it’ll fix everything, or that this is a good idea. But…” But what, exactly? He paused again, and then decided to throw caution to the wind, “I know that I want to try, that my feelings toward you outweigh any and all fears I might have, and that I’ll live in misery for all of eternity if I left here today and parted ways.”
He licked his lips, and took in a breath. “I’m not just being poetic. I mean that.”
He didn’t doubt that Charlie meant it. Of course Charlie meant it, Augustus could see it in his face how much he meant it, and it made him want to claw his way out of this office and hide, or shove and shove and shove until Charlie was gone for good.
This was always how it felt. He remembered it vaguely, like watching someone else’s life, all those times Charlie just understood him, knew him easily. All the times it was so, so clear how deep their feelings went. This was always how it felt: hot, like a spotlight glaring down on him, uncomfortable, vulnerable, too much of him at once and sliding out of his control.
He could feel his guard go all the way up, stiffening his muscles. It hadn’t always been this hard, he thought. Back when they were good, when they didn’t think being together would come with an expiration date. He’d never completely gotten used to being so exposed, even to Charlie, but it hadn’t always been this hard. His crossed arms pressed together even tighter.
“And when I’m difficult? When I’m cruel? When I’m the asshole over and over again, are you going to mean it then?” he asked, some harshness returning to his voice. “Or only when I’m broken and mild-mannered?”
Augustus was going to wait for a response, but continued before he could stop himself. “What was it exactly that made you come here today? Was it because I cried, because I spoke in a soft tone of voice a few times? Were you surprised that I could be gentle, discounting all the times I had been in the past, and think well, I guess he’s not that bad! and decide to grace me with another chance? Because fuck you, if that’s the case.”
Charlie had been expecting a no. He had been expecting one, yet still, his smile faltered ever-so-slightly. It would have been entirely out of character, he reminded himself, for Augustus to have jumped at the offer. In fact, he realized, with some chagrin, that a yes would actually be very hard earned. Thankfully, knowing this, he remained unfazed in the face of rejection.
Strangely enough, he too, was suddenly reminded of the very first night they met. Perhaps there was something about the current scene and the way it was playing out currently that elicited such nostalgia. Back then, his fearlessness (or arrogance, or just plain stupidity) had won out in his favour. Though he would spend years wondering just why or how it happened, the fact of the matter was it had happened. “Alright. I’ll take you in, then. Or I won’t take you anywhere at all and we can just stay here, like this,”
He knew it was wrong, that he should just accept the no as an answer and be on his merry way. It was the respectful thing to do, and Charlie was nothing if not respectful of the boundaries others set up. But after all this time, it seemed wrong to let that be their ending.
Augustus stared at Charlie, watching him talk, a frown tugging at the edge of his mouth. Here was the thing he wanted and waited for all this time, and yet when faced with it Augustus felt no joy, no relief, no urge to take it and hold on. If anything, he felt sad, like the sorrow he’d been running from these last two weeks was beginning to catch up. He was silent for a while, when it became his turn to speak. Part of him wondered if it was his pride that gave him such pause, that refused to let him be so easily won. But he’d tossed his pride aside for Charlie already, and he could do it again if he needed to. Pride aside, he still hesitated. Then he considered agreeing— yes, yes, finally— but something held him back. Every possible thing he could say piled up behind his teeth and still, still he was quiet, brow furrowed, shoulders tensing up to his ears.
“Do you really think this is a good idea?” he asked quietly. His eyes went down to his desk. “After everything, are you sure—” Then, after so long without it, he found all his anger again, all at once. “Charlie,” he started, bring his gaze back up. “Do you realize what you do to me? What you’re doing to me right now? I feel terrible every time I’m around you. Every time. I feel as though all you do is hurt me. Do you think that’s going to go away now that you’ve decided I’m not the villain you’ve worked me up to be? Do you think the fact that you’re ready to try me on again is going to fix that?” He leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. “That’s not a rhetorical question.”
He lost all of his confidence, or whatever it was that led him here, as soon as he entered. His feet felt light against the floor — but it wasn’t with elation. It was with the overwhelming urge to run in the opposite direction. The tension in the room was palpable, or maybe it wasn’t tension, but instead the waves of nothingness that Augustus was sending his way. As if this were all rather passe to him. As if Charlie had missed his chance.
And it was that final thought that gave Charlie all the answers he needed. The fear that filled him at the very idea told him all he needed to know. He shifted where he stood, a lopsided grin on his face as he answered, “Nah, not yet. Have some affairs to take care of,” but as the words slipped out of his mouth, it occurred to him that they were perhaps not the right thing to say. “I’m joking, obviously,” he added quickly, a bit sheepishly.
The longer he stood there, the less afraid he felt, the more certain he became that this was all just a show. That if Augustus, after all this time, had held onto feelings for him, certainly there was no way a short two weeks would be the end of it all. This fuelled what came tumbling out of his mouth before he could very well stop it. “I’d like to take you out.”
Strangely, Augustus thought about the first time they had met. He’d dragged Charlie into an alley with intention to end his life. Charlie had grinned at him for it, and Augustus promptly changed his mind. He hadn’t really understood it then. Later on, he’d have an idea. Recently, he’d thought he knew.
Back then, he had been moved by something in the younger vampire. His daring, or his obvious need for guidance, or the way he danced around his pain. He thought about all the times Charlie had called himself a pet. A project. He thought about the near-year he spent in silence. He thought about how he was alone, always alone, that his life was defined by his being alone, but that night in London when he was least expecting it he hadn’t been anymore.
The same smile was facing him now, humored and dazzling as ever. Augustus stared back the same way he had all those years ago. Then he said, without malice or gentleness, “No.”
After two weeks of radio silence, in a moment of sheer impulsivity, Charlie found himself on the path to The Times’ headquarters, where he knew Augustus worked. There was no real plan or motive behind his actions, except for maybe the simple fact of his own heartbeat, that led him to the man’s office doors. As he stood there, however, proverbial hat in hands, he found himself at a loss for what to say or do.
He’d spent the last two weeks genuinely reflecting on what he wanted. He flipped back and forth between the two extremes, between packing up and leaving altogether or running into Augustus’s arms (so to speak). He weighed the events of his house, where August fell apart before his very eyes with the conversation he had with Finley. Most importantly, he thought about how picky his heart was. How for decades, no one compared to neither Gabriele nor Augustus. And that, he assumed, had to have meant something. So, after lying in his bed staring at his ceiling for several hours on end, thinking about what to do, he decided to stop thinking and just do. Because otherwise, he’d drive himself insane.
He had hoped the walk over would’ve offered some clarity. It hadn’t. So, with nothing else to do, and having been stood in front of his door long enough for the other employees to stare at him in confusion, he knocked.
He smelled Charlie standing on the other side of his door, and said nothing. Only at the tap of knuckles on frosted glass did he offer a simple “come in.” Like this was a meeting, like he’d be expecting this to happen. Augustus had spent so much time not thinking about this— back at his job, tossed into a routine and even scrounging up a social life that left him too busy to wallow— he should have been surprised.
"Here I thought you’d skipped town,” he said, knowing before he finished his sentence that it wasn’t true. No matter the distance put between them by time, no matter the countless missed moments, or the fact that they still were relatively strangers, Augustus knew Charlie better than anyone else. And he knew he wouldn’t leave. Not yet, at least. Not without coming here at least once.
Apparently he had been thinking about this.
His eyes were on his computer screen. It was supposed to be hard to keep your gaze averted. Or maybe it was supposed to be easy, safe, a way to hide. He couldn’t remember, and found he didn’t much care either way. He had an email to write. When he was finished, he looked at Charlie. Like this was a meeting, yes, but also expectant. His silence asked all the questions he needed, demanded all the answers while he sat, waiting.
Though she wore no such emotion on her face, Mila was surprised at the revelation. It was two-fold: firstly, she was shocked (though pleased) he had given away anything at all. And secondly, perhaps more importantly, it was news to her that he had any sort of love interests. Her mind was already working, on the assumption she would have otherwise known, trying to figure out just when this would have developed. Either the romance preceded their friendship, or it occurred in the decade they could not claim.
She sipped at her cup, keeping her reaction controlled. It was imperative she maintain composure, make her face unreadable as she nodded. He would surely fixate, otherwise, on anything else and shut down. In fact, there was nothing to say he wouldn’t fixate on her lack of a reaction, but it was the most natural one she could muster. Mila was not soft-hearted. “It can be difficult to get over someone when you haven’t had proper closure?” She offered, “There are some who say we never really get over people. Only, we meet new people who we have even stronger feelings for. Or something along these lines. Although, I suppose this is not news you’d like to hear. How long has it been?”
How long had it been? Augustus was only somewhat surprised to realize he didn’t have an answer. He could say a few weeks, or months, because it hadn’t just been this past conversation that had wounded him. The hurting had started before that, the morning after a night he’d for so long doubt he’d ever have again. This past conversation had just been the last in a series of blows, of knife-wounds to his heart.
“I don’t know,” is what he ended up saying. And that was as true an answer as any of the others. For all the years of burying, burying, trying to move on, he hadn’t ever, not really. He used to be obsessed with it, with quantifying his forgetting, like it would mean something one day. Like he would cut out all the twisted up, broken pieces and become himself, unscathed, once again. He used to number the days that he hadn’t thought about it, which was stupid, because he obviously was still thinking about it if he remembered to keep count.
The realization made him sad all over again. His sadness, it seemed, was just as bad as his anger. Worse, even. It darkened the whole room. “More than a century? I suppose that’s the most accurate.”
nate nodded when augustus brought up his ex, “just that you mentioned having one in town.” it made sense that was the thing that had augustus down, with reactions as intense as he was clearly having love was usually to blame. granted, nate didn’t know anything about the relationship and what it had been, but only love could cause someone to be acting as different as augustus was. “i’ve already told you i’d pay him a visit if i need to, that offer still stands.”
he knew that it was probably a sore subject for augustus to talk about, and that’s why he had shut himself in his room rather than going out in the world and just dealing with whatever kind of issues he was having with this other guy. “you obviously don’t have to get into it with me if you don’t want to, but sometimes telling someone else can help you realize your own feelings about shit, you know? i can be like a free therapist who comes bearing booze. can’t imagine it gets any better than that,” he said with a small smile, trying to ease any uncomfortableness that augustus may have been feeling.
Augustus almost mentioned, in another weak attempt at a joke, that he already knew a therapist and he generally drank copiously with her. He didn’t, but he looked slightly more amused than he had a moment before. At least with this arrangement, there would be less prying. Try as Nate might his eyes did not bore into him with unnerving intensity. “Perhaps you’re right,” he agreed, mildly, sounding as though he was less convinced of this than he was.
Augustus poured himself some more whiskey. “You've tried to convince me of this once before. I have to admit it... It helped." He sat there, still hesitating because there was no taking back what he said once he said it. "It's all rather dark," he muttered.
In the end, he remained vague. "I only bring up my ex because he was the one who reminded me of the... less than pleasant part of my life.” He hesitated. “What happened was... also the reason we broke up. I don’t—” For fuck’s sake, could he not talk about Charlie without his voice wavering? He cleared his throat. “I don’t think what’s happens warrants and intervention from you, really. It’s not like he meant to cause all this.”
summary: poorly timed phone calls make for odd bonding moments
DIMITRI
The thought of his sire had been dancing in Dimitri’s mind since the very beginning of his new life, or at least since he knew what had happened to him and what a sire was. Being around Charlie only made him more curious, about who they are and why they chose to turn him, out of all the other dying men around him that day. Charlie was the type of person he would have hoped his sire would be, someone welcoming and thoughtful and kind, above all else. Someone who could understand him, and to whom he could turn when he needed comfort. And so, as he sat in the living room doing nothing else but dwelling on the thought, he took the opportunity to speak up when Charlie entered the room. “Hey—“ He smiled, and unfurled his arms from their place around his knees, sitting up as he did so. “I have a question for you, and I don’t really know who else to ask except for Catherine, which...” He waved his hand, as if to dismiss the thought. “Is there a way to find the person who turned me— er, my sire?”
CHARLIE
Though some days he missed living alone, since his near-death, Charlie was actually grateful to share a home with Dimitri. It gave him a feeling of normalcy he so desperately desired after that night and everything that followed. It was only a short while ago, and yet, he felt much more like himself. At ease. Or so he thought, since he nearly (but not quite) jumped at the sound of Dimitri’s voice.
He made a face at the mention of Catherine, but as Dimitri continued with his question, his frown deepened. This question went beyond him — but he expressly remembered a certain person offering to locate his own sire years ago, to which Charlie had then refused. He sighed. “Maybe?” He said at first, rubbing his hand through his hair. “August-us would probably know how. He tends to be good at finding vampires, somehow,”
DIMITRI
He knew very little of what went on between Charlie and Augustus, but even without knowing whatever long and involved history they shared, he could tell there was something long and involved. Dimitri had taken a liking to Augustus the first time they had met, after he had managed to calm his nerves and showed an unexpected soft side. Dimitri’s brows furrowed a little at the way Charlie said his name, but his smile widened. “Do you think he’s busy right now? I mean, it doesn’t have to be now, but I...” He shrugged, and tugged at the collar of his shirt. He was excited by the possibility, but didn’t want to impose anything on Charlie. “Whatever you think is best.”
CHARLIE
Despite the situation at hand, Charlie smiled at Dimitri's budding excitement and hoped that Augustus might very well be of some use in this situation. He shook his head, "Nah, don't worry about it. I'll call him right now,"
Charlie's favourite phone, the only one he'd ever really known, had been destroyed the day he nearly died. Forced to buy a new one, he bought the same model out of sheer protest at this point. It took him a few moments before he remembered Augustus's number, and he dialled, waiting for the other man to pick up. He was...a bit nervous, but grateful that at least he knew his name wouldn't show up on Augustus's screen, lest he be ignored or, perhaps worse, bring the man's hopes up.
AUGUSTUS
Bearing in mind that he'd promised himself he'd pull himself together next week, Augustus had buried himself in one of the few books he owned that didn't have negative memories associated with it. He was finally starting to get into the story, and his mind was finally beginning to drift away from all the dark places it had been lurking in, when his phone rang. He scowled at it, as if it would care how displeased he was. Too many people had been calling him, worried or annoyed at his absence over the past week. He had half a mind to ignore it, but at the last minute decided he would pick up. He accepted the call and turned on speaker, leaning back into his seat and going back to his book. "Yes?" he asked, mildly. He didn't sound anything like the sharp-tongued man who had a reputation in West Hollow. He still wasn't up to putting that facade back on. Great, now he probably sounded sad. Or worse, willing to talk. "Who's calling?" he added, hoping he sounded a little more impatient and demanding.
CHARLIE
His words died in his throat as soon as Augustus answered, his mind suddenly wiped clean of the purpose. As if the man, even through the phone, was so colossally occupying his mind he was capable of erasing all other thought. He began with a stupid, "Uh," and then, glancing at Dimitri, finally found his nerve. "It's Charlie," he said, taking care not to take any beats, and quickly adding, "It's about Dimitri. Are you free?" He hoped that he wasn't. Or he was. Or he wasn't. Admittedly, he was not exactly sure what he was hoping. Only that Augustus could drive, and it wouldn't do to meet in public.
AUGUSTUS
He knew it was Charlie before the man clarified, and his heart was instantaneously in his throat. In another time, he'd have some sort of retort to throw back. You can toss me aside indefinitely but when you need a favor, you call? Then came the cold rush of dread— that he'd have to see Charlie again before he knew, for certain, where they stood. He didn't want to go. Augustus didn't want to face him, not when he couldn't trust his emotional stability.
"I'm free," he said anyway, after a beat of silence. This, he reminded himself, was about Dimitri. And refusing to show up only meant he'd be dragging the young man into their mess. And he didn't think Charlie would've reached out unless he really needed to, which meant this was something Augustus specifically needed to handle. "I can be over in half an hour."
CHARLIE
"Great," he said, perhaps a bit more excited than he had intended. He had the urge to say it isn't that serious, or never mind, but upon hearing Augustus confirm he could come, Charlie had decided he'd wanted nothing more than to see him. Even if it was from a distance, standing in the kitchen as the two of them had hushed conversation, or for a brief moment before Augustus asked if he could leave. "I'll...see you...then," he said, as if he was unsure of how to end the conversation. Waiting a moment longer, he hung up the phone and turned to Dimitri, almost sweating from the underlying anxiety (or anticipation?) of seeing Augustus again. "He'll be here shortly." He glanced around the apartment, noting Dimitri's things strewn all over the place. Gently, "Perhaps you could...put your things away?"
DIMITRI
He sat patiently, and did his best not to listen in on their conversation. Instead, he thought of all the people he wished he could call ---a very short list, consisting of only two people, but that was something he wasn't yet ready for. He thought, perhaps, that Charlie or Augustus, or both of them, could push him to work up the courage to approach at least one of them, but before his mind could wander too far into hopeful territory, Charlie was speaking to him again.
"Oh, yeah! Sorry!" Dimitri gave him an apologetic look as he sprang up from the couch, and began tucking his papers, books, and pencils into his backpack. A shirt he had worn the day before was tucked into a suitcase under the couch, and then he continued to straighten things up ---couch cushions, a lamp on the table, anything to keep him busy--- as he spoke.
"You guys sounded... tense." He glanced at Charlie, and his words were hesitant, unsure if this was a topic he was allowed to broach, but he figured if Charlie wanted to, he could very well ignore the comment, and Dimitri would let it go.
CHARLIE
Tense was the word for it, among others. He sighed at the question, and went to busy himself, too, in the open kitchen. "Yeah..." he began, wondering how much information he should share with the young vampire. He had neglected to tell him of his near death experience, and with just half an hour left before August arrived, it hardly seemed like the time or the place to do so. Then again, there was always the chance Augustus would bring it up himself, which would be even more uncomfortable.
"It's...complicated..." He decided to give him an abridged version of the story. "Yeah, so, uh, remember that night I was gone and came back the next afternoon? And I told you I'd explain later? Well, I nearly died, and he saved my life, and then...some other things happened and now we are where we are now." As soon as he said it, it occurred to him that it was, actually, not the type of story one could be so nonchalant about. "Which is...not great. But not exactly horrible, either, so....not...that...bad..."
DIMITRI
Bent over the couch, fluffing a pillow for far too long, Dimitri froze and looked over at Charlie. Only for a moment, before casting his gaze back towards the cushions and then giving up, falling onto it to sit and stare at his hands rather than at the other man. He was fidgeting, but slow and calm in a way that came with deep thought rather than extreme anxiety. He could guess this was something Charlie didn't want to get into too much, not right now at least, but he was grateful he had shared, no less. He clasped his hands together and looked up with a small smile, though his eyes showed concern.
"Well, I'm glad he saved you." After a moment, he added, "and... not that bad sounds pretty alright, all in all."
AUGUSTUS
Augustus did not rush over there. This was mostly because he took time— too much time— making sure he like his outfit. He told himself that this was simply because it had been a long time since he stepped outside and he needed to look good for it. He told himself this repeatedly, until he believed it, then slid into his car and sped to Charlie's house.
Once he was there, on the other side of his door, he hesitated. His heart was hammering. He almost turned back and left. He still had the opportunity; he could just tell Charlie something came up. Or he could say nothing at all, he was sure Charlie would make some assumption. Augustus stood there, preparing himself, he supposed, for what he was about to walk into. He knocked.
CHARLIE
Charlie gave Dimitri a smile in return, and then, after some extended silence, he began to laugh. It was...a little ridiculous, given everything, the way he'd nearly died. Of course it had been a harrowing experience, and his heart still shot up into his throat while his stomach joined his feet at the memory of August's confession. But it was also strangely hilarious. To think about his confusion throughout the whole thing and Marin's misguided determination. Besides, Charlie had a gift that he could laugh off just about near-everything, save for a few major events in his life he preferred not to think about. "Suppose I should've known better than to answer the door late at night to a perfect stranger," he said, finally, once the laughter had subsided.
After some time, Augustus knocked on the door. He knew it was him, because...well, he had been expecting him. But he could also just barely pick up his scent through the door, perhaps because he had been waiting for it. He made his way over rather quickly, practically tripping over himself as he did so. When he opened it, he stared at Augustus like a deer in headlights before stepping aside and gesturing towards the couch where Dimitri was seated, "Come on in," he said.
AUGUSTUS
He managed eye contact for about one and half seconds, then looked past Charlie's shoulder and, once invited, stepped inside. Augustus was hyperaware of his presence behind him but walked onward, hopefully looking altogether unbothered by all of this. He sat next to Dimitri, a little stiff, and folded his hands. It occurred to him that Charlie might have explained..... something about their situation to Dimitri. He fought not to throw all his walls up in response to feeling so unexpectedly exposed. "So," he said, "how are you, Dimitri?"
DIMITRI
When Charlie laughed, it only served to make his worry grow, if only for a moment. Something like that didn't seem like the sort of thing to be laughed off, he knew that much from experience. But he also knew that it was often easier that way, and so he nodded at the other's comments, though his smile faded when a knock came to the door. He wasn't unhappy, but anxious, rife with anticipation ---much like Charlie apparently was--- for Augustus' arrival.
He chose to act, as much as he could, as if nothing was wrong ---as if Charlie hadn't nearly died, as if Augustus hadn't played the hero, as if the "other things" Charlie had mentioned hadn't happened at all. He was thrown enough by the events of the Cherry Blossom Festival, and if he needed to focus on something to throw his worries into, he would let it be that. Or, the matter at hand.
"I'm fine." His answer was paired with a shrug, and his tone made it clear that fine was an appropriate word, for once not used to pretend that nothing was wrong, but not that everything was perfect, either. "I, uh... I was wondering if you could help me with something, actually?"
AUGUSTUS
Augustus nodded automatically. The boy seemed to be doing better, but perhaps it only appeared that way because he was doing so poorly that Dimitri's state looked less dire. Regardless, Augustus managed to relax, just a bit, with the knowledge that whatever this was, it wasn't an immediate cause for concern. He resisted the urge to glance over at Charlie and try to decipher his expression. Then, when the temptation didn't fade, he turned his body slightly so he was facing Dimitri more head on.
He felt like he was being watched, though. Like this was some test, some way to prove himself. Even if it hadn't been set up like that, Augustus still couldn't shake the sensation that Charlie would take mental notes of his behavior, or consider what he said as points for or against him. He bit down his bitter irritation, though, and just focused on Dimitri.
"What do you need help with?"
DIMITRI
He turned to face Augustus, in turn, and though he knew this was something important for him, he hoped the man wouldn’t be annoyed for being asked out for such a reason. After all, this had nothing to do with Augustus other than the help he could hopefully provide, and if he chose to do so it would be as a huge kindness towards Dimitri. So he readied himself, took a quick draw of his breath, before asking: “Would you be able to help me find... my sire?” As he asked, he looked over to Charlie only for a moment, before returning his gaze to Augustus. He looked... tired —tense, much like the conversation he had accidentally overheard. But he thought it better not to ask how he was doing; that was likely a rather complicated answer, from the little information he could gather from Charlie and from the way they acted around one another.
CHARLIE
For once, it was not painful to be ignored. Instead, it was a welcome reprieve. Of course, his eyes bore into Augustus’s back nonetheless, analyzing his every move to gauge his emotional state. He didn’t like what he saw. He seemed tired, practiced though he was in the art of covering it up. More than that, he didn’t seem any better off than he was the last time Charlie saw him. That concerned him, and it was that very concern for his wellbeing that left Charlie feeling confused all over again. He was beginning to develop a migraine.
Standing on his own in the kitchen, he felt not only helpless but utterly useless. Deciding to busy himself, he set out to make cups of tea for everyone. When Dimitri looked his way, Charlie offered a kind smile and an — albeit awkward — thumbs up. With his back turned to the two, he allowed a look of panic to take over his face. Wiping his clammy hands over his jeans, he set out to make tea and tried his absolute best to pretend he wasn’t eavesdropping.
AUGUSTUS
The things Dimitri fixated on were strange to Augustus. When they had first met, the fact that he could hardly show his fangs without apologizing profusely confused the ancient vampire. Over time, he'd grown a bit used to it. But then moments like this confused him once again.
Seeking out one's sire felt like a natural thing. It was quite common, actually, for that to be one of a vampire's strongest relationships. Augustus had, after all, had spent a human's lifetime with his own sire, and known many vampires who treated their progenies like children or an extended family. So when he sensed this apprehension, this nervousness, he found it odd. But he didn't say that. Instead, he nodded again, more enthusiastically this time.
"Of course. I don't know if you remember, but I offered to do this once before. I don't think you were quite ready then, but... Yes. I'd be happy to." He pulled out his cell phone and began scrolling through his contacts. "The best way to go about this is through the Enclave. I don't know if you know what that is. They're a headache to get ahold of, but I have an old friend who works for them that may be able to help us."
FRIDAY
Awkward as it might have been, Dimitri appreciated the thumbs up —it was to the point, impossible to misunderstand as anything other than reassurance. That was essential for him, especially in a moment like this when he was asking an old, important vampire to do his insignificant self a favour. He felt awfully out of place doing so, but this was an answer he now needed. Weeks ago, the thought was miles away —but now that he understood more of this new life, more of what his sire could have been, his curiosity was unending. “I remember.” And he did, after being reminded. At the time, the offer wasn’t the sort of thing Dimitri thought of as significant, what with everything else in his new world he had to come to terms with. Now, he was grateful Augustus had offered, and that he had some sort of connection. “The Enclave? Are they like vampire FBI, or something?” He didn’t intend it to be a joke, but it sounded ridiculous coming out nonetheless, and he couldn’t help but smirk a bit at the thought, and as Augustus scrolled, his mind ran away with the image of a group of vampires in trench coats and sunglasses.
AUGUSTUS
Augustus showed the barest of smiles. “Not... exactly. Or rather, that’s an incomplete description of what they do. Here, do you have a pen and paper?” As he spoke, he placed a call and set it to speaker.
After a moment, a silky voice answered. “Hello?”
“Terentius,” he said, all business. “It’s Augustus.”
There was a loud gasp. “Augustus! It has been too long, my friend! How are you? I don’t believe we’ve spoken in... nearly 120 years!”
Augustus looked only slightly embarrassed at this. “I’m well, thanks.” He held up a hand to Dimitri, indicating this greeting would take a minute. “And you?”
CHARLIE
Charlie knew only very little about The Enclave — a story here and there from Augustus, plus the initial offering August gave him all those years ago to find his own sire. Back then, Charlie had little to no interest, mainly out of fear but now that he had been discussing the prospect of getting his memories back with Roman, perhaps he might want the same thing once they returned to him. The tea having been finished, he poured three cups and placed them on a platter to carry over to the coffee table.
Again, he tried not to eavesdrop but he had always had a mind for mathematics. 120 years added up to almost 1899, and Charlie wondered for what purpose could Augustus have had to call all those years ago. Had they helped him escape?
Augustus and Dimitri occupied the couch, so Charlie sat in the lounge chair, tea cup in hand, staring at it in place of Augustus’s face. In spite of all the tension, there was a peacefulness to the three of them sitting there together. He would keep that in mind when he eventually decided to finally think about whether or not he wanted to head down the same road as August, as he had thus far been vehemently avoiding any and all thought on the subject.
DIMITRI
Dimitri immediately went for his backpack, and pulled out a notebook, opened to a fresh page, and a pen, poised for whatever instruction Augustus might give. He nodded at the hand, relaxed (only a little), and picked up the fresh tea Charlie had poured. He blew on it, and glanced between the cup and Charlie, where he sat intently focused on his own tea. As uncertain as the dynamic between the them may have been, it was nice. Here, with these two men who had been so good to him in a time of desperate need, he felt safe. That was more than he could ask for, these days.
AUGUSTUS
“I’m splendid, old friend. Just splendid! It is quite nice to hear you’re making out well, too.” The voice took on a slight hint of what sounded like concern, which Augustus took as his cue to get to the matter at hand.
“Terentius, I—“
“Please, call me Terence. I’m trying to stay modern.”
“Right, Terence. I’m here with a, friend. We’re trying to locate his sire.”
“Oh! Wonderful. Who is this friend, or are you speaking on their behalf?”
Augustus glanced over at Dimitri, waiting for his cue before answering.
DIMITRI
Dimitri’s gaze shot up to look at Augustus over his tea, the heat of the cup warming his hands as he held it up to be blown on. He paused for a moment, popped his mouth open as if he was about to speak,but snapped it shut again. Unable to decide or know what to say, he shook his head at the idea of speaking for himself, but nodded at Augustus to speak on his behalf.
AUGUSTUS
Augustus nodded then turned back to the phone. “I’m speaking on his behalf. We uh, don’t know much besides the fact that they were in Somalia about a year ago.”
“Oooh, yes. A bit of a challenge. I can always count on you to excite me, Augustus.” There was a brief silence which Terence filled with humming. “I can give you a list of people that we know live in the area right away. And in a few days I can also track down some vampires that were visiting Somalia in the last, mmm, when did you say? Oh, let’s just make it the last two years. And if you don’t find someone that way, perhaps they have connections beyond my reach.”
“That sounds great, Terence, thank you.” He picked up the notebook as Terence began listing off names. Some he just wrote a name for, others he had to ask the contact information of. In the end, they ended up with about twenty-five people.
Augustus once again checked in with Dimitri. “This is a great lead,” he said quietly, even though he knew everyone could hear him, “but we can go through this at your pace.”
CHARLIE
Charlie listened carefully to the conversation, but mostly, he was zoning out — little by little. Unexpectedly this had become too much for him, all too quickly. Having Augustus sitting at his place, talking kindly to Dimitri, pulled at his heart strings in a surprising way.
He had already figured out that the young vampire reminded him all too much of himself, but this was another thing entirely. He wanted nothing more than to be sitting on that couch with them, instead of staring at his quickly cooling tea.
Finding strength within him that he didn’t know he had, he brought up his gaze to Dimitri first, smiling at him, before turning to August. A frown took over his face. A small, subtle one, but a frown nonetheless. He wanted him gone. He wanted him to stay. He wanted...something, but just what, he wasn’t sure.
DIMITRI
Dimitri was, to say the least, surprised by the amount of information Augustus was able to retrieve from these people —The Enclave. A group of vampires who did more, knew more, were more than the FBI. Hard to fathom, but reasonable, he supposed, for a species that has been alive and remained secret for so long. He cleared his throat quietly, freeing it from a lump that had formed there and made him feel like he couldn’t breathe. He turned to Charlie, seeing him move out of the corner of his eye, but looked away before he could see his smile turn. “Slow is... probably better, I think.” He didn’t recognize any of the names when he heard them, but he hoped that wasn’t a bad sign.
AUGUSTUS
Augustus focused on Dimitri, feeling but still electing to avoid Charlie’s eyes. “Sure,” was all he said, before addressing the phone once again. “I appreciate it, Terence,” he said, and after a brief hesitation, “I’ll call again soo—“
“Oh!” Terence exclaimed, apparently not having heard any of what Augustus just said. “While I have you, old friend, I have some information you might find useful. In regards to the distress call you made in 1899—“
Immediately, Augustus turned the phone off speaker and put it to his ear. “What about it?”
CHARLIE
Distress call? Despite how quickly Augustus had moved to turn the phone off speaker, Charlie had caught enough information to cause concern. So he had called the Enclave, all those years ago. But for just what purpose, Charlie wasn’t sure. He glanced quickly to Dimitri, then back to Augustus, fighting all instinct to lean forward and strain to hear what was happening on the other side of the line.
DIMITRI
Dimitri’s brows furrowed a little, though he wasn’t surprised by the way Augustus immediately took the phone off speaker. Distress call sounded, to him, like a rather private thing. So he shuffled back a bit, until his back hit the arm of the couch, and did his best to avoid listening in. He looked at Charlie, let his eyes linger there in a search for some sign of distress himself, or a signal for what he should do.
AUGUSTUS
He remained still, his face unreadable, but his body language gave him away. Turned slightly away from the two of them, one hand gripping the arm of the couch while he held up the phone, shoulders tense: he was nervous. He didn’t know what they could possibly update him on.
He got his answer quickly. “So as you know,” Terence began, nonchalant, “once the house was rebuilt—“
“It was rebuilt?!” Augustus shot up out of his seat.
“Oh. Uh— yes. I thought you were aware.”
“I was not aware, Terence. When was it— Why?” He took a few steps away, as if that would make this more private, or make his sudden panic less obvious.
CHARLIE
Charlie was at as much of a loss as Dimitri was. He wasn’t sure what the right thing to do was — and he could see, as plain as day, that Augustus was anxious. Panicked, almost. And just as he had picked up on that, it seemed the man’s panic heightened. Charlie had half a mind to follow after him, but miraculously remained seated, despite shifting a little in the armchair at Augustus’s reaction. He glanced towards Dimitri, signaling he should remain calm. He wasn’t sure if they should leave, if that would make it more obvious they recognized the gravity of the situation, thus making matters worse, or if they should stay.
AUGUSTUS
“Humans are like that, Augustus. It’s been a museum for about four decades now,” Terence paused while Augustus made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a groan, then continued. “But what I meant to tell you is the rising popularity has prompted a sort of investigation. Not to arrest anyone, obviously, but to see if they can resolve the case. Now I have reason to believe the heads of the investigation are hunters, but really, it’s not anything to worry about, old friend. I doubt they’ll ever connect it to us, let alone you! I just know how you like to stay informed.”
Augustus looked, and felt, about ready to throw up. He stared ahead at the wall as Terence spoke, saying nothing. But again, his silent reactions betrayed him. Face getting increasingly paler, chest tightening and shortening his breath, grip on his cellphone getting so tense his hand was white knuckled and shaking. “Is that all?” he asked through his teeth. He didn’t remember exactly when it happened, but he was closer to the floor, now. At some point he had lowered into a crouch, perhaps in an attempt to ground himself.
DIMITRI
It felt strange, seeing Augustus like this; a man who built himself to be impenetrable, bent to his knees by a few words over the phone. A phone call Dimitri had been the reason for, no less, which made him feel as if he was at fault here, somehow. His mouth was turned down into an unmistakable frown, entire face distorted by discomfort and sadness. But he listened to Charlie, or to his expressions, and he took to every trick in the book to remain calm. This wasn’t about him anymore, he knew that, and having a panic attack or announcing his feelings of guilt wouldn’t do anyone any good. He did his best to steady his breathing, to distract himself with thoughts of something happier than anything he had known since his change. There was little he could do for Augustus besides remain calm, as Charlie instructed, and so he would do just that.
CHARLIE
Panic was something that he was intimately familiar with. Though he scarcely had attacks in front of others anymore, let alone in public, they still came — usually in the middle of the night these days. As such, he didn’t need intuition or a close reading of Augustus as a person to know that was what was happening now.
He didn’t know what was said on the other line, even his enhanced hearing had only given him unintelligible whispers. But he didn’t need to know to understand whatever it was, it was grave enough to send Augustus spiraling quickly. Perhaps, even just the mention of it was enough. Perhaps there was nothing more than that. After all, he’d had such a difficult time even saying yes when Charlie had initially asked.
He wanted to give him space, to stay seated and calm and pretend as if nothing was wrong so that at least, at the end of the day, Augustus could hold onto some small morsel of his pride. But he remembered how quickly he had been brought back to reality, to—if not the feeling itself, then the cousin of—calmness when he had collapsed in front of Finley. Tapping his fingers in anxious energy against the armchair first, Charlie eventually stood and held an arm up to Dimitri, implying he should stay seated.
He made his way over slowly, like approaching a skittish deer, and crouched down beside him. Gently, his hand hovered over the shoulder of Augustus, not quite touching. His eyes were focused, his lips in a thin line. He held out his hand, and said nothing at all.
AUGUSTUS
"Yes, Augustus, that's all. There's really nothing to worry about! Even if anything comes your way, you're more than capable to handle it." Augustus didn't feel like reminding Terence that the last time something came his way, he hadn't at all been capable. Instead, he scraped up the last bits of his composure to quietly thank him for the call, and to say that no, he wasn't angry, and yes, he would call again next week.
Charlie was next to him. He wasn't sure when that happened, either, and it almost startled him. But he otherwise didn't acknowledge his presence, instead lowering his head, pressing his fingers to his brow. It occurred to him that he was still at Charlie's house, that there were two sets of eyes on him while he fell apart. He knew that technically, Terence was right. That technically, if the house had been in existence for four decades already and he'd made it this far, he would be okay. But all he could focus on was that his time was running out, that he was losing places to hide, that if Charlie had found him here how much longer would it take for the hunters to track him down, too?
Augustus stole one fleeting look to Charlie, and immediately tears sprung up in his eyes and he quickly turned away. Maybe he was stretched too thin to hold them back, right now. Or maybe knowing that Charlie was witnessing the very thing that had caused the rift in their life together made it that much worse.
"Sorry," he mumbled, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes, "to do this. I should go."
CHARLIE
Charlie frowned. Despite the fact that he had turned away, he saw the water pooling in his eyes. It was all too familiar; like looking in a mirror. At that moment, Charlie wondered if it had always been like this, if it always would be — Augustus a mirror image of Charlie. The same, but not quite.
Knowing very well it could backfire on him, he reached the outstretched hand up and pulled gently at Augustus’s hand, holding it in his own. “What are you apologizing for?” He asked.
Augustus wasn’t all doom and gloom. He wasn’t all terrible. He carried the same pain as anyone else, though perhaps a bit more. He was just as torn up inside as Charlie was, from time to time. Even though they were both inhuman, this very fact humanized him in Charlie’s eyes. His heart went out to him.
Though he knew he should give the man space, allow him to leave, Charlie decided once more to behave selfishly as he had sitting in his kitchen that day. “Don’t go. Stay.”
AUGUSTUS
Augustus was used to dealing with this by himself. It had been years, decades, since he’d been so incapacitated, but his body remembered panic and sadness all too well. Every time, he was alone, shut off from the world, out of sight, hidden. That was how he wanted it. Private. No one around to look in on his secret pain. Burn every bridge so no one could cross over, even if they wanted.
He didn’t want Charlie holding his hand, asking him to stay. He didn’t. This would be dealt with like all the rest. But his body remembered this all to well. Instead of pulling away Augustus gripped Charlie’s hand. He let it anchor him to this time, this room. “Okay,” he said, voice impossibly small.
CHARLIE
As Augustus gripped his hand, something fluttered inside Charlie’s chest and stomach. It occurred to him that this was the first they’ve ever really touched in this way, an innocent act of support. It felt right, natural even, like an old ghost that had been following them whose face was finally recognized.
He stood up and helped Augustus up, all the while holding onto his hand. He wanted to ask what the phone call had been about, but found it inappropriate given the circumstances. Discussing Dimitri’s sire was out, too, as he imagined anything relating to the subject would be a sore spot for a while.
For the first time in a long time, though, Charlie did not feel frustrated with Augustus’s lack of sharing. Instead, he felt confident that the truth of the matter would come out — when the other man was ready. Until then, he would wait.
Still, before leading the man back, he hesitated. “Do you need a minute?” He asked quietly.
AUGUSTUS
Augustus probably needed several minutes. He stood when Charlie did, but didn’t move otherwise. The thought of sitting back down, carrying on a conversation as if nothing happened, felt impossible to him. And he oddly wanted the two of them to know, at least enough to understand why he fell into a blind panic. But how was he going to explain any of this without breaking into pieces?
His free hand rested on his opposite shoulder, as if trying to keep himself intact. He glanced back at Dimitri, then at Charlie, then his gaze went faraway once again.
“I was... I—“ He took a deep breath. “In 1899, hunters, they— I was taken against my will. They brought me to their house. When I got out, I asked the Enclave to burn it down. Terence just told me it was... rebuilt.” He shrank into himself a bit more. “It’s a museum, now. People are looking for the culprit.”
DIMITRI
Despite the sadness, the panic, the awfulness of this moment, there was something soft and beautiful between the two men, Dimitri could see. He sat quietly, finding calm in the air between them all as Augustus seemed to find some, however small, in Charlie. He listened intently, patiently, as Augustus told his story. Every part of it sounded horrible, from the kidnapping to the rebuilding, but especially the fact that it was now, of all things, a museum. Without knowing any large amount about the situation, his fondness for Augustus and this news made his stomach turn. He didn’t know what to say, but he had to say something, after Augustus had shared so much. “I...” He swallowed a lump in his throat. “That’s awful.” His words were quiet, more a simplified exclamation of his thoughts to himself, than anything else.
CHARLIE
In some strange sort of way, as much as he was taken by surprise, Charlie also felt a swell of pride for Augustus. He knew him well enough to know that sharing such information was not an easy task. And though perhaps the man sounded small, and hurt, and even scared — this was terribly brave of him, too. There was indeed some beauty in this moment, in the three of them there, together.
Aside from that, though, there was nothing lovely about the news he shared. If people were looking for the culprit of something that happened over a century ago, that to Charlie meant hunters. Hunters were looking for Augustus. Again. He had nothing to say to that, no words of comfort came to mind. So instead of saying anything at all, he squeezed the hand he held, his lips in a thin line.
AUGUSTUS
Much to his surprise, he didn't implode upon sharing this information. In fact, it was... not nice, nothing about this was nice, but it did give him a strange sense of comfort. Maybe relief was a better word, like he'd finally managed to take a proper breath. He once again brought his eyes to Dimitri and managed the smallest of shrugs. "It's better I know, I think. So I can at least be prepared." His voice broke somewhat on the last word. But he was already sick of feeling so small and weak, and he ran a hand through his hair as he struggled to reset. The Augustus the spoke next was not so much guarded as he was careful, treading lightly so as not to send himself spiraling. "Can I borrow a laptop?"
CHARLIE
"Of course," he said, though he made no such movements to grab his computer. Leaving his side meant returning to their mutual kept distance, one that had every potential to be even larger now, given everything. Eventually, though, he removed his hand from Augustus's and went into his bedroom to retrieve his laptop. As he was about to hand it off, he hesitated. "What do you need it for?"
AUGUSTUS
Once Charlie left his side, Augustus felt too adrift, so he moved back to the couch and sat, tucking himself neatly against the opposite arm from Dimitri. It wasn't so much that he wanted the space— far from it, he was slowly realizing— but he didn't want to make the boy feel obligated to comfort him when he hadn't been prepared to deal with his mess.
Augustus was already reaching out for the laptop when Charlie paused. He made careful, brief eye contact before flicking his eyes back downward and answering. "I want to see it," he mumbled, purposefully muddying his consonants because he was anticipating the reaction. All signs pointed to it being a bad idea, looking up the house, but Augustus knew if he didn't look it up now, he'd do it later, when he was alone, and that was probably the worse option.
CHARLIE
Charlie looked to Dimitri for some support, feeling as if that was a particularly horrible idea. Given how the vampire had reacted to the news, Charlie hardly saw it as anything positive to go and look up the place.
Still, he supposed it was better to do it now, with Charlie and Dimitri at the ready to help than it was to do it later, alone. And if Charlie knew Augustus at all, he knew that saying no wouldn’t stop him. Besides, it was probably a good idea to attempt to gauge how much they knew — even if it backfired, at least they could be prepared. He sighed. “Alright.”
DIMITRI
Dimitri allowed Augustus the space as he sat himself down on the couch, but put a hand out, palm down, on the cushion beside him —a small motion, to show he was there, but not to intrude. He knew that if it were him, his curiosity would win over in due time and he would rather be around Mona, or Charlie, or Augustus, or even Catherine, than to be alone for something like this. So he nodded to Charlie, uncertain as he was whether that would sway him much. Better in the company of those who’ve seen and felt your vulnerability, than alone. Or so he hoped.
AUGUSTUS
For all his rush to do this, Augustus was now incredibly nervous. He shifted, slightly, moving closer to Dimitri as he placed the laptop on the table. His heart was starting to pick up speed but he was slow to move, trying to make sure that he really wanted to do this. He frowned at the blinking cursor on the search engine.
Terence hadn't given him the museum's name, probably to prevent this very thing. But there was an easy way to get around that which he likely hadn't thought of. Augustus's skin was already crawling as he typed in: William Stirling.
It took three links to find an article, featuring the face he never wanted to see again. He hastily scrolled past the images with increasingly shaky fingers, skimming as much as possible. And then there was a link, and he was at the museum's website. It would have been fine, really, were the featured picture not the room. His room, filled with plants. Augustus laughed, and it sounded so empty and disingenuous, but really, it was funny. "Unbelievable," he muttered, putting his head in his hands. He had a sudden vision of himself, overgrown with vines.
CHARLIE
From where he was standing, Charlie could see the laptop—albeit at an angle. Despite his reservations, he couldn’t help but overlook. Watch as Augustus typed in a name and landed on an article. Slowly but surely the pieces of that horrific event were falling into place.
He watched as the pictures appeared on the screen, confused as Augustus fixated on what looked like an indoor greenhouse. Strange for the time period, he thought, but he supposed the wealthy had always been more or less ahead of the times.
The laughter is jarring, and immediately his eyes snap from the screen and turn towards Augustus. “What is it?” He asked.
DIMITRI
Naturally, Dimitri was painfully clueless to what Augustus was looking for, and just why what he had found was so funny. He made no attempt to hide his gaze on the computer screen as the older vampire found what he was looking for, and looked to Charlie as he asked his question, his expression asking the same thing.
AUGUSTUS
He took a moment for himself, then stared at the picture once again. Giving in to his probably masochist urges, he went to the gallery and found more snapshots of flowers blooming in the same spots he’d bled in. “This wasn’t a greenhouse,” he said simply. Then he decided that, despite learning a total of no new information, he’d already had enough. Augustus closed the laptop. “I can’t do this, actually.” he explained. When had his heart started beating so hard? The sound of it was thundering in his ears.
He felt their eyes on him again, and had no idea what to do with his hands. “I regret the timing of this, Dimitri,” he said, though he couldn’t bring himself to look over at the boy. “And I’m still— we still can...” Augustus trailed off and leaned back on the couch, staring at he ceiling. This was all so strange and upsetting. He hadn’t been at such a loss for a long, long time.
DIMITRI
“No,” he shook his head, his reply coming immediately and paired with an obscure but compassionate expression. He wouldn’t —and couldn’t— ask Augustus to continue doing this favour for him now, but perhaps it could be brought up again in time. They had essentially forever, anyway. Dimitri had to remind himself that there was no real rush on the matter, and there never really was. Augustus’ wellbeing, of course, cane before some impulsive request for help. “It can wait.” He thought, perhaps, that he would take the list of names and contact information and try doing some digging of his own, though he doubted he would be terribly good at it. Not to mention, he could likely get in over his head all too quickly.
CHARLIE
Charlie couldn’t imagine what else it could possibly be, even the furthest reaches of his mind were unable to fathom why it would have caused such a reaction. The more he thought about it, though, the more his formerly sadistic side came up with answers he actually did not want to think about.
He frowned at Augustus, but his eyes had a more far-off look to them, as if he was zoning out of the conversation. Truthfully some small part of him had been — the realization of how greatly Augustus had been affected by this, how it had changed him...it was all a little much to process. He sat down. Picked up his now-cold tea, and took a sip.
a slight frown fell on nate’s lips, if drinking and flirting wasn’t going to work he was out of ideas. that was always his go-to for cheering people up, and for the most part it was temporarily effective. but augustus must have really been in a funk if he didn’t want to go out with nate, drinking was the one thing he could always count on augustus for. “damn, alright. well i definitely don’t need you going to the hospital because you drank so much so let’s just stay here where i can keep a close eye on you.”
he raised his eyebrow as augustus explained his image to nate, “so you want to walk around and be known as the scary guy?” he chuckled and took another sip of his drink, he always just assumed that reputation had created itself, but clearly augustus wanted it that way. “i’ll never understand you, dude.” nate had completely forgotten about athena’s warnings to him, and he was relazed around augustus. as much as he might want to be, the man wasn’t very intimidating in the moment. “whatever happened must have really fucked you up,” he said, treading lightly, “what was it, relationship trouble? work trouble? family shit?”
The smirk on Augustus’s face waned, going thin and strained. “I guess it did fuck me up,” he said, and only after it was said did he realize the gravity of it. All this time, he never talked about it, all of it, especially not in terms of how it had affected him. Not like that. He never felt quite up to examining the scars too closely. Instead he just lived with them. Ignored them, really.
There had been a time when Augustus thought he had finally moved on. He was even convinced that one day, time would erode the memories. He would forget anything had happened. The hunters would fade, Charlie would cease to exist. He would look back on his being foolish enough to fall in love and laugh. He would rise to his typical greatness.
Now, it seemed pretty clear he never would. He would never achieve the glory he once possessed, not again. What happened, what was done to him, would follow him everywhere. It would drag him down, make his life deadweight.
“It’s.... complicated, Nate,” he said, staring at the far wall. “Do you remember that ex I told you about?”
If Mila was a different person, perhaps she might have flinched at his words. But she was not. In fact, such a reaction was to be expected the closer one got to an open wound. And right now, Augustus seemed to be nothing but several open wounds. It was concerning, deeply so, and though Mila avoided feeling such a way for him she could not help but mirror his expression ever so slightly. It was for the briefest of moments, the most subtle downturning of her lips. She had known the man for a century, minus a decade, and even still had yet to see him in such a state.
All concern faded away for a moment as he continued to speak, though, and her eyes flickered as she rolled them quickly. “Please, I would not be so foolish as to suggest a therapeutic intervention. You’ve rejected me enough times, and though I’m nothing if not persistent I know there is a time and a place for such things. I am asking as your friend and nothing but. Sate my undying curiousity and I’ll return the favour,”
She seemed to be... Augustus couldn’t tell. He wanted to believe this was genuine concern, but discovered that a part of him couldn’t accept that. Couldn’t trust that. And frankly, he couldn’t distinguish between whatever tactics she was using— was she?— and his own paranoia about the tactics she was using. But he was certain, or almost certain, that she was trying to get an answer out of him. Something. And he was certain once he started telling her she would insist on hearing all of it.
He had to give her some credit. She knew that being forced into something was the least likely way to get him to cooperate. So maybe she wouldn’t lock the door until he poured his heart out. That didn’t change the fact that whatever he told her would make things... different, between them. The thought made him slightly nervous, actually. Slightly afraid.
“Someone... I thought I was over someone. I wasn’t. It—” He sipped his coffee to mask the emotions that already started swelling up in his chest. “I’m just not used to being... to feeling this hurt. For so long.”
She felt scolded by his words, which was a particularly unpleasant feeling. Some days, though she’d scarcely admit it, Augustus reminded her all too much of her father.
Considering the fact that Augustus was quite possibly her only friend at the moment, or at the very least her longest friend, it was a shame they hadn’t yet reached the level of confidante. She knew it was her profession at fault, but also, her personality. No matter what he would say, Mila could read right through it, and that sort of vulnerability was enough to make anyone uncomfortable, but most especially someone like Augustus.
Their friendship had its highlights, of course, but there was a century’s worth of cause for concern when it came to him. Areas in which she might be best poised to help with. And yes, truly, some part of her believed helping Augustus - who was a vampire - was penance for the many she had killed. “Not improper, no,” she said, shaking her hand as if to wave him off. His defensiveness was duly noted. Something must have happened, and it must’ve been rather recent. “Certain things, in this case meaning all things.” She smirked. “I say nothing, you say nothing, and we carry on pretending we know as much as has been shared,” she took a sip of her coffee and raised her eyebrow, as if to challenge the validity of that statement.
Augustus scoffed. She wasn’t wrong, and he knew that, and resented her for it. Even their reunion, after so long of not seeing each other, had been tight lipped and secretive. Perhaps everything in his life was too upsetting, which is why he refused to talk about any of it in Mila’s presence. “Is there something suddenly wrong with this?” he asked, knowing he was being unfair. Back in the day, there was at least something worth mentioning. Something he could separate from all the others that he held closer to his heart. Not now. Now all of it burned the same.
It was a depressing thought, but he didn’t think there was anything he could say that wasn’t off-limits. What could he mention that she wouldn’t immediately find all the hidden layers of? What could he talk about without it causing him pain?
He was frowning now, he realized, so he turned his head away once more, sipping his coffee irritably. “I have never asked for yours or anyone’s help and I will not start now, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
As always, Mila noted his aversion to eye-contact. Added it to her ever-growing list of information she had on Augustus, which was admittedly not much. However, this, paired with the underlying tone of despair he seemed to carry around him only heightened her concern for his current state of being. Augustus had an issue with trust, and an even bigger issue with psychiatry. She knew this, and never once had she persisted further than reminding him she was there should he need. She had an eternity to wait, after all.
She relaxed herself slightly as he replied in an easy-going tone, reminding herself not to read too much into him, however tempting it was. “Perhaps I should’ve suggested we meet in the hospital cafeteria, then. Maybe then you’d be more willing to give credit to our longterm friendship and update me properly on your life,” she said wryly, never once dropping the playfulness to her tone. As the coffee rose, so did she, and she poured into two cups with great care. She carried them over, placed them on the table and brought her cup to her lips. “It simply means the location doesn’t matter much to you. Save for maybe your bedroom, when you’re half-asleep and too tired to keep your guard up,”
She had always made it clear that she was willing, eager even, to extend her expertise to him. He had always made it clear that he wasn’t interested. Just the thought of talking with Mila about anything more serious than politics made him uncomfortable. They’d spent much of their friendship being careful, or talking about things of little importance. And even then, he’d always found it a little challenging, being her friend, because opening up to her as a friend could easily (though she might deny it) bleed into becoming her patient. He wasn’t interested in sorting through his problems with anyone. He liked to lock that part away and pretend it didn’t exist.
So it was likely due to the fact that that part of him was exposed and bleeding, right now, that her words affected him the way they did. He felt a little rush of defensiveness, and he didn’t answer right away in an attempt to control his reaction. It felt a little too personal, a little too disarming, especially considering he never shared details about himself and Mila still somehow knew him enough to make that assessment. “I didn’t realize I was being improper” he asked as he picked up his own cup. “We’ve always kept certain things private, Mila.”
She set the pot, dropping in a scoop of her finest Turkish coffee. It was imported, and she was grateful for the invention of the internet for her ability to order such things. It had been difficult in the past, and there had even been several years she’d had to go without. What dark years those were, perhaps even darker than her decade in solitude.
Sitting down beside him, the pot in the corner of her eye as she waited for the coffee to rise she rolled her eyes at Augustus’s tease. “It should feel like a home, so, yes, this is where I talk to my patients. Imagine how harrowing it would be to have to talk about yourself in a hospital environment. Empty walls, the scent of sanitization burning your nostrils…though I suppose, for a man like you, it’s all the same, isn’t it?” She teased.
He also settled his gaze on the pot, as if the combination of their stares would make the coffee rise faster. This would all be a bit easier if he had something to do with his hands, some repetitive motion he could center on. He was never a fan of making prolonged eye contact with Mila, anyway. He found her intense gaze a bit too off-putting, even for him. So if he could look elsewhere, he’d manage this visit just fine.
But at her playful retort, his head tilted back. “What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked. He sounded properly lighthearted, he thought, and a smirk edged at the corner of his mouth. “I think I’d actually prefer a hospital. It’s more truthful to the whole experience, don’t you think?”
