Spam, for the Marquis

[umgekehrt]

[It takes him a while after the flood to sort things out. But the answer, any way he shakes it, is the same. He's got a duty and he's not going to be easy in himself till it's done.

It feels like he's got a block of lead in his stomach as he knocks at the Marquis' door.]

Comments

[impure_tale]

[Happy, familiar barking, and in but a moment, the Marquis answers the door. His brow raises with interest.]

Brachi -- to what do I owe the pleasure?

[umgekehrt]

[That inquisitive expression knocks the air out of him for a moment: the words simply fail to come.]

Please. Let me in and gives me a drink.

[impure_tale]

[He frowns and steps back to let him in.] Of course. Come and sit.

[umgekehrt]

[He comes in-- doesn't sit, doesnt have time, because when the door closes behind him he makes himself rip the bandage off of the issue all at once:]

I'm leaving.

[impure_tale]

[The Marquis has turned to a nearby table to pour him a glass of wine, but his hand stops on the decanter when those two words emerge. For a minute he doesn't move, doesn't do much of anything, letting that first pang build into something real, something that tells him he didn't mishear.]

...You're leaving.

[umgekehrt]

I'd been holding on. Selfish. Hoping that I'd have my faith restored. But it's been a while since I last hoped I'd get an inmate. I've been staying on too long only because I couldn't bear leaving.

[His gravelled voice is hoarser, tighter.]

I'm making the general announcement tomorrow. But I couldn't stand it if that were how you found out.

[impure_tale]

[They haven't done a lot of talking about what happens after the Barge. The Marquis has never expressed any definite goals, himself.]

Of course. I understand. [He glances back.] Thank you for thinking of me.

[umgekehrt]

You've every right to throw me out, if course. But I'll beg you not to, if that sways you at all.

[impure_tale]

[Interrupting.]

When will you go?

[umgekehrt]

I'm lasting out the week. To pack what I can take and give off the rest. Sunday.

[impure_tale]

[He swallows back what he almost says. The man isn't inviting him to go with him, and he couldn't regardless.]

I see.

[umgekehrt]

[He swallows hard.]

I'm hoping to come back. When I'm more settled. When--

[impure_tale]

Don't promise to return just to put my mind at ease, Brachi. Don't put me through what Paviche has done already.

[umgekehrt]

No. [A sharp rasp.]

If I come back it'll be with something to offer you.

[impure_tale]

What do you mean?

[umgekehrt]

I can't be sure I'll survive the year, yet. That I and the men are out of Jurisdiction's grasp. The foreseeable future's a Langsarik pirate vessel, three men to a room half this size. Recycled air, low rations, brutal hours. I wouldn't do that to Renate, let alone a man I love.

But I'll either die, or I'll settle down and carve out a life. And then I'll come and try to bribe you out from under the Admiral's thumb.

[impure_tale]

Would an afterlife here be so terrible, I wonder? [A wry smile, but he shakes his head.] No, that's an unkind thought. I'm sure you will do well.

[umgekehrt]

Pfah. If I die, I'm coming back to get a retirement in Paris.

[He stretches out his arms to the Marquis]

[impure_tale]

[The Marquis turns toward him finally, looking pained and uncertain.]

[umgekehrt]

Please let me stay the night.

[impure_tale]

Of course, Brachi. [He turns back toward the table.] Let me pour you that drink.

[umgekehrt]

[He collapses to a seat. It's strange, how he's exhausted. His chest aches; it's as if he's taken a blow.]

I've been out of myself; it's been eating at me. When Prefect started catching the brunt of it..

Damn!

[It's a pained sound.]

[impure_tale]

What do you mean? [He offers a goblet to him.]

[umgekehrt]

[He drinks about half of it in a go.]

I kissed him during the flood-- he was being himself as per usual, so thoroughly decent you want to hold him and never let anything harm him, and I was angry.

So I kissed him. I might as well have slapped him.

[impure_tale]

You were angry at him for being himself.

[umgekehrt]

For being better than me. I care so much for the bastard and I've never helped him, never offered him comfort the way he's given me.

It was all around poor judgement. If this is what the barge is going to make of me, sitting without an inmate and with the bonds weighing on me...

I've got to go, but hell if I don't want to stay.

[impure_tale]

But you don't have your deal.

[umgekehrt]

Braxiatel graduated. We didn't make much noise over it, not so soon after he'd hurt someone so badly. Didn't want to trigger a flashback out of Maximoff or anyone else who'd seen their torturers graduate without a hitch.

But he's graduated. Andrej'll live, one way or the other.

And with Hoffman on track with an inmate of his own, there's nothing pressing me.

[impure_tale]

No, of course not. [He's not certain why the Admiral would not assign him another Inmate. It's not as though they are in short supply, and he hates to think something, such as that he's not meant to. It sounds too religious.] I understand.

[umgekehrt]

I'm not a fit warden, as I am. Angry. Cynical. I couldn't do right by an inmate. It's... something I've had to come to grips with.

I'm sorry, Donatien.

[impure_tale]

There's no need to apologize, dearheart. [He finally sits, himself, taking a long gulp from his own goblet.]

[umgekehrt]

When I made a pass at an attractive man with a loose tongue I hadn't realized it was going to lead here.

[He sags, elbows on his knees, near-empty goblet dangling from one hand.]

I hadn't known.

[impure_tale]

Where, exactly?

[umgekehrt]

[He reaches out to take the Marquis' hand.]

That I'd love you. That you'd be my nav and my comm through obstacles I couldn't have imagined let alone understood. That you'd come to be so important to me that trying to leave was like a physical pain.

[impure_tale]

[The Marquis resists pulling his hand away at that. It already hurts enough to talk about how much it will hurt very soon.]

I'll be all right. And so will you.

[umgekehrt]

Yes, we will. [He keeps the hand long enough to kiss it, but then lets the Marquis have it back. And finishes his wine.]

[impure_tale]

You'll stay tonight, won't you?

[umgekehrt]

Every night until I go, if you'll let me. I intend to make my bed in the morning and let it stay pristine.