Like Ships In The Night - - - [Lucien]

tagged: name. time: date & time. notes: do not exceed one line of notes.

Lucien had felt tired. He'd felt tired and exhausted and overstressed, and if he'd been closer, he'd have just gone straight home. Unfortunately he hadn't been close--he'd been a good thirty minutes away at least, and feeling like he was about to collapse if he tried to make it. So he'd forced the issue, insisted on sitting down and getting something to eat and drink. The guard hadn't liked it, but he'd liked the idea of carrying an unconscious Lucien into the tower even less. That would almost certainly have gotten him thrown out.

Lucien had found he'd actually enjoyed his time at the maid cafe, even if it still made him feel a tad uncomfortable. It was just too close to what life had been like for him before--someone waiting on him hand and foot and calling him 'master'. It was just too much of a memory, and he'd found himself unable to get over it even after spending time there.

All good things had come to an end, and the guard had showed up before long, clearing his throat loudly as if thinking that would summon Lucien. It didn't, although Lucien did get the hint. He'd wrapped things up and headed out, reuniting with his guard before returning to the tower, feeling much refreshed. The guard had left him when they reached the security desk, letting Lucien go up on his own. It was where he lived--no need to guard him from Kun Shui.

He flexed his hand on the ride up, disliking the feeling of the cast. It was too restricting, but it was far better then the alternative, and Lucien was sort of happy he couldn't see the mess. He could only see the edges of it, and that was quite bad enough.

The elevator chimed as it opened at the top, and he let himself into the apartment to find Kun Shui waiting for him. It certainly seemed like he was anyway, because it wasn't often Kun Shui made time to settle down and read a newspaper. He gave him a small smile as he slipped off his shoes, double checking his clothes.

"Evening, Kun Shui."

tagged: name. time: date & time. notes: do not exceed one line of notes.

He seemed... paler. Maybe it was Lucien's imagination, but Kun Shui seemed to look exhausted. He seemed pale and drawn, like he didn't have enough color in his face, and there were bags under his eyes that made him frown a tiny bit. Was he sick? He looked sick. Or maybe it was just stress--sometimes he looked like that after a stressful phone call. Generally it took months, if not years to get into that habit, but Lucien had spent the last twelve days with Kun Shui almost exclusively. He was the first person he saw in the morning, and the last person he saw at night. He'd spent easily over a hundred hours with him since their arrival in LA, and he was getting fairly good at working things out--if not what he was thinking, then how he was feeling.

The question was a confusing one. Didn't he know? It was possible that the guard hadn't yet reported in--had just said they were doing a detour or something--but Lucien doubted it. Kun Shui was too on top of things to not know where Lucien was.

"I went to the bookstore to fetch the next book in a set, and they were sold out. There was another store with it not far way, so the guard agreed to take me there, but it was a bit farther then I thought." He flexed his hand again, wincing a tiny bit. The painkillers were starting to wear off for the moment. "I ended up having to sit down, so we ducked into a cafe on the way... or should I say I ducked in, as the guard stayed outside." He didn't exactly want to volunteer the next bit, but he decided to after a moment. "It was a maid cafe, if that changes anything. I didn't realize until I entered."

tagged: kun shui. time: may 12th, 5pm. notes: do not exceed one line of notes.

He didn't like the tone--he wasn't angry about it, but Kun Shui certainly seemed annoyed. Maybe he shouldn't have gone at all. Maybe he should have carried on and tried to make it home, even if it meant making the guard support him like a pathetic drunkard. He was second guessing himself over and over, and every single thing he'd done in the past twenty four hours was now under close scrutiny--by both Kun Shui and Lucien himself.

"I won't." He responded after a second, and he wouldn't either. If Kun Shui didn't want him to go, he wouldn't. It had just been a maid cafe, and he wasn't entirely sure why Kun Shui was reacting the way he was. He had no idea the sort of shady connections something like that might have?

Or maybe it was just Kun Shui being stressed in general, because the way he was rubbing at his temple suggested a headache. Lucien nearly asked about it before deciding against it--If Kun Shui wanted him to know, Kun Shui would have told him. It was probably just annoyance, and he was probably just reacting that way because Lucien had made himself a nuisance so quickly.

Dinner? That meant he wasn't going to eat with him, and he gave a little nod. If Kun Shui was going out, that meant he'd be home alone, and while he was suddenly extremely nervous that Jun Shi would find his way in, Kun Shui had reassured him that he wouldn't. He gave a tiny nod himself. "I can eat by myself." Or not eat--or whichever Kun Shui found better for him.

tagged: kun shui. time: may 12th, 5pm. notes: do not exceed one line of notes.

It was hard to tell, but it felt like Kun Shui had... softened a bit. At the very least relaxed a tiny bit as he stood up, and Lucien stayed where he was. If it had been Jun Shi, he likely would have stumbled backwards, but Kun Shui didn't hold the same kind of fear for him. He didn't feel like he had to worry that Kun Shui would hurt him, simply because Kun Shui never had before.

It might have been a stupid sentiment, but it was a valid one for the moment.

He stared at the phone for a moment before reaching out, taking it as offered. A phone. He was giving him a phone? His first thought was that Kun Shui was stupid--that he'd just given Lucien something that could easily let him escape. A second later he regretted the thought. He wasn't stupid. He trusted him. He had extended the olive branch of communication, and his first thought had been how stupid he was? He hated himself for it, and he gave a small little nod, holding onto the phone.

"I'll probably just stay here for the night." But he'd keep the phone anyway--for the future.

tagged: kun shui. time: may 12th, 5pm. notes: notes.

Only if he needed it. For the moment, Lucien could see only one possible reason he might need it: If Jun Shi came. If Jun Shi came back, it didn't matter what Kun Shui was doing at the time--he'd lock himself in his room, barricade the door, and call Kun Shui as fast as the phone would dial. He had always done whatever he could to appease Jun Shi, to make him take mercy. He'd always hoped that Jun Shi would take mercy on him, and he never had.

They were past that point now. If Jun Shi got him alone, there was zero question that he would put him down. It wouldn't be a matter of 'if', but a matter of 'how'. Jun Shi would make it as painful as he possibly could, and Lucien doubted he'd risk getting interupted again. If he had a chance, he'd take it, and Lucien was going to do everything in his power to avoid giving him that chance.

He nodded carefully, pausing before tucking the phone away. Call for emergencies--he could do that. He gave another nod before realizing he'd already done so, lost in thought. "Is it an important dinner tonight?" It almost went without saying, but he wa curious anyway.

tagged: kun shui. time: may 12th, 5pm. notes: notes.

The phone felt like a weight, and there was a teeny, tiny bit of conflict already welling up in him. It was just so much trust to put on him. Did Kun Shui really trust him that much? Trust was so rarely given in Lucien's life--almost never, if he ever had at all--and he didn't think anyone had ever really placed their trust in him the way Kun Shui just had. Lucien could ruin him. He knew too much, could easily make a bargain with the states in exchange for turning him in. He could get amnesty, could start over...

He mentally cut himself off. Stupid. He might have been willing to do that to Jun Shi, but there was no way to betray one twin without hurting the other as well. Not that you could even count it as 'betrayal' for Jun Shi, considering that Jun Shi would readily murder him at the first opportunity.

"Maybe you should take some advil?" He suggested quietly, before shaking his head. No, there was nothing else. He'd eat if food was brought for him, and otherwise he'd stay safe in his room. He had new books to read, and time to read them. He paused, then gave Kun Shui a small smile before nodding and retreating to his room.

---

For the first time in two years, Lucien had a phone. To anyone else, it must have seemed pointless and inconsequential. A phone was just a phone, after all. Most people in America had their own phone, or at the very least had access to one. People took them for granted, carried them everywhere and used them as much or as little as they pleased. Some people seemed to never get off them, and some people never used them at all. Lucien was the latter, although that was through no choice of his own. When he'd lived in France he'd always had one but used it sparingly. Phones were like leashes to him, and he knew that if he always answered calls, people would come to expect that of him. Instead he simply made mental notes when people called, and made a point to find out what they wanted through other means. He had only ever answered the phone on the first ring for family, and for people he'd explicitly told to call him. Those people had deserved to have their call answered.

He'd even become a fan of texting. It was quick, easy, and let him get his point across without a whole bunch of useless banter and pleasantries. If he wanted someone killed, he could simply say so, albeit in codewords that wouldn't get him arrested. He'd hated pleasantries, and it almost went without saying that he hated phone calls because of it.

It had been two long, long years since all that, however. When the triad had first captured him, his phone had been taken away and most likely destroyed utterly. Lucien doubted his phone existed in any sort of recognizable form anymore, and he'd long ago forgotten what it even looked like. The model had changed at least once a year, and which model he'd had at the time of his capture was lost to him. Really, he supposed that it didn't even matter--it was just a little point of sentimentality, and he wished he could remember more. Every month that passed by he'd forgotten more of the little details. He wasn't so far gone that he'd forgotten his families faces, but for a long time there'd been a certain part of him that had ached to go back, to return to his old life. In retrospect, he supposed it wasn't that insane of a thought. He had simply wished for normalcy. He'd wished for a return to all the power and confidence he'd had before, and as his willpower had broken, that desire had only grown stronger.

He knew he had been a terrible person. Even if he no longer desired to return to that life, he still missed parts of it. He still felt a painful ache in his chest if he thought about it too long, a sentimentality he hadn't known he had. No matter what happened, he only had one family--one family he'd intended to betray, who probably thought he was dead. Did his siblings know the truth of what happened? Did they know that his father had sold him out? Probably not. There was no reason for their father to tell them, and even within the family, things were on a need to know basis. As far as they knew, they probably thought he was dead and gone, killed by the triad in an act of war.

Now he could tell them. As he stepped into his room he drew the phone out of his pocket, sitting down on the edge of the bed and staring at it. It was boring--nothing fancy or distinct. Perhaps last years model. He supposed it didn't matter in the end--a phone was a phone, and it was what it represented that mattered. It was his line out. He'd already ignored the possibility of contacting the police, as that could backfire too much, but he hadn't ruled out the other possibility--his family.

He had never been particularly close to any of them, but they were still his family. He could hardly even imagine how his younger sister must have looked after two years, let alone his even younger little brother. He wanted to know how things were--how they'd changed, how everyone was doing. Had his sister taken over as second in command, or had someone else taken that place? The Margaux had always been a very private family, and there was no way to find out without calling them.

His fingers dialed the number carefully. He knew it by heart, of course--the private line, direct to the house. The number of people who knew the number could be counted on one hand, and it was only when the number was fully in that he hesitated. All he had to do was hit the call button, and then he'd be able to speak to them--he'd be able to find out what was happening, to let them know he was alive.

It was only then, so close to dialing, that the reality of it all set in. If he called, his family would know he was alive--including his father. He was a risk, a constant danger to his father's status within the gang de la brise de mer, and if his father found out he was alive, he would have to be put down. While he was fairly confident that Kun Shui would be able to protect him, it would be a struggle, and far from guaranteed. His father would do whatever it took to put him down, and Kun Shui would do whatever it took to stop him.

No matter what, someone would get hurt. If he called, no matter how much he wanted to speak to them, the people around him would simply suffer. It would never be worth it. It wouldn't be worth stabbing Kun Shui in the back by betraying him just to speak with them--not with every single thing that would fall down around his feet if he made the call.

Slowly, Lucien backspaced the number out and turned the phone off, setting it on the nightstand. Maybe one day he'd make the call--but for the moment all he could do was lie in bed, drowning in regrets from a life only half lived.