At a distance, Louis is reduced to circling, an anxious guard dog too far removed from his charge. Reduced to hurried preparation, conversations echoing down to Daniel as Louis shudders through the reflective sense memory of Armand's hand.

Louis had thrown Armand so hard. A delineating moment, reframing all that came before, all that would come after.

A slamming door. A hasty conversation, descriptions shared back and forth. Hemming and hawing, the exchange of currency. Louis' voice sharpening towards violence at the perception of further delay.

But he is told where he must go. It is night. Louis has a vehicle.

Daniel, like a tug of a sleeve. Daniel, I know where.

A reassurance dropped into Daniel's mind amidst these recollections and reasonings.

I'm coming.

No further plea. No other information, no divulging the people waiting at the airport to observe and follow if Armand is too quick to move. No mention of preparations, of what lives were drunk down to even the catastrophic imbalance between Louis and Armand.

No need to let Daniel try to convince him of anything other than this: Louis will come to him. He will take Daniel away from this place. It will not happen again.