It can be attributed to Louis, all of this. All of the violence, all of the brutality. Daniel can be spared responsibility. Louis, volatile and dangerous. Louis, who should be feared.
And they do fear him. He can feel it. He can hear it in the cacophony of their thoughts.
Louis grips this mortal by the throat, and flings her bodily across the room, through the door where agents are gathering. Their shouts and her scream carry, are barely stifled by the door Louis closes.
"Let's go," he says, crossing the room. Touches Daniel's cheek, gentle, something meant to be grounding. "I have a car on the corner. Run to your right."
Louis takes him by the hand, turning to shattered windw. They can jump, and land without any injury. The sidewalk cracks under impact. It doesn't matter.
Numb, shocked, Daniel allows himself to be led. Louis takes his hand and, though on a delay, Daniel shakes himself back to the present and grips it tightly. There's something desperate in it, a thread of panic, sudden terror and worry over Louis. He spent so long in such shitty situations, and he nearly got his head blown off over Daniel.
Daniel should have just called, a week ago. Daniel should have slipped out the back door when Raglan told him to.
He didn't, he was never going to. It was always going to be this, because he's stubborn, and he's determined, and he prioritizes work over everything and everyone, no matter what it ruins. That doesn't stop the churning in his stomach that has nothing to do with the jump down, or the sprint to the right.
"Yeah," Louis reassures, warm even as he hustles Daniel. Rushing because the Talamasca's unwillingness to shoot out the broken window might not hold and Louis doesn't want Daniel to experience being shot or for him to watch Louis experience being shot.
The door slams. They break several traffic laws instantly.
Louis still has hold of Daniel's hand. Touches his mind, a gentle pressure drawing Daniel closer.
"We were moving too fast for them," Louis tells him. "And they didn't want to hurt you."
Shaken, Daniel squeezes Louis' hand like a lifeline, definitely too hard if he were human. Fortunately neither of them are. He braces against the dashboard with his other, thoughts racing, messenger bag stuffed with stolen items awkwardly cradled in his lap.
They didn't want to hurt him, but they would have hurt Louis.
"You've been through way too much shit to risk getting shot at over me," he says, sounding as upset as he feels. Adrenaline for a little sneaky crime, sure, but this isn't that, this is real fear.
Hm. Maybe not the kind of statement Daniel finds comforting.
"Daniel," he appeals. A little squeeze in return, the pressure of his thumb over Daniel's knuckles. "Daniel, I'm not doing anything I don't want to do these days."
Flexing autonomy. Chasing idle desires. Some of this manifests in decor. Some of it manifests in a heist. Louis is pleasing himself these days. He isn't averse to the messiness and danger of what they'd just done.
"I wanted to get you out. I wanted you to have your information. I don't care about the rest."
Maybe in a few days Louis can tell him it was fun, in a way.
Daniel could have gotten himself out. Maybe not tonight, but soon; he was restless enough to just use Louis. Use Louis, and the thought sits strangely in him, uncomfortable. Did he? He thinks about the concept of vampire lessons, and companionship, and something like panic threatens to rise up in his stomach.
He gets a grip, because he's not a child. But he notes it. Louis came after him, helped him out, now he might have made enemies when he should be finding himself and his life post-Armand, and some woman has a future of years in surgical recovery to save her arm.
Of course Daniel went along. He, too, wanted the information. He wanted it easy and immediately and it wasn't so bad seeing Louis do impressive things, it's all just—
He's not sure.
"Thank you for helping me."
So, there's that. Not a total asshole, even if he's already thinking about which red light he's going to get out of the car at.
"Louis." Daniel looks at him. A distraction while driving, whatever. "You needed yourself more than I needed you. I'm happy for that." He squeezes his hand. "I'm happy. I wanted more than anything for you to be free from it. For once, you had to take care of yourself, with your own head. I'm alright."
It'll always be true that Louis walked away and Daniel died. But it can be true, at the same time, that he's happier now, and that he doesn't blame Louis for what happened. Or how it happened. Life isn't neat, and very little is mutually exclusive. He will never hold it against Louis, but there will always be a footnote there, a reminder to be ready to protect himself. He can't ask to be anyone's priority.
And that's fine. That's always been him. An ocean of burned bridges, ruined relationships, "friends" behind him. Louis is so important. He can't... he just can't.
It is true, and it weighs so heavily on Louis. It had cost Daniel dearly, Louis' freedom. He'd forgotten himself, chosen to indulge the overwhelming need that had cracked open in him over Daniel.
Laces their fingers together more securely.
"I can take you home," Louis offers gently. "I'd like to."
Do the thing he should have done in the first place. Too little too late.
Take him home. Wouldn't that be nice. For a second—
Just for a second, Louis' driving him somewhere, they're near a less-impressive bridge than the one on all the postcards, veering towards Stockton, and a shitty apartment. Maybe it's 1973, and everyone's the same age that they look. 1992, maybe. He's divorced. He's going to get the fuck over himself, admit it all, finally, because the date he's on is maybe the best date he's ever had, and all that's happened is they laughed over a few drinks.
Wouldn't it be nice. Wouldn't it be nice, too, if it were six months from now, and Daniel was settled, and the idea of going on a flight with someone else, bringing them into his apartment, being scrutinized and watched over, didn't make his skin crawl. He feels bad about what he's about to do, but he also feel like he's going to claw his way out of the car if he doesn't do it. He's grateful for the help, guilty for the harm, and he just needs some space.
"The airport is fine."
Close enough to home.
"Or— couple blocks," he points, "should be a tube connection I can hop on. I've been to London fuck knows how many times. I just," man, this feels weird, "I'll make sure they don't take it out on you. I can make some calls. And I just need to figure it out, Louis. I need to know I can do it."
"I'm not worried about them," Louis says, the easier topic. "I don't want you spending your favors on me."
The Talamasca can do what they like. Perceive him as they like. Louis doesn't care at all. But he cares about Daniel, and whatever link he's cultivated. Better to shift blame to Louis, who wants nothing from them, needs nothing from them.
A tightening of linked fingers. Indulging the impulse to hold on.
A thought held behind his teeth: I just found you.
It's painful. This request is painful, more so because what can Louis do but acquiesce?
Carefully, attempts a minor appeal: "Say you ain't going to vanish on me. If you won't give me until the airport, give me that much?"
Not spending favors. Looking after Louis, having his back like an actual friend, not like someone trying to keep him in a dollhouse. Daniel squeezes his hand, reassuring silently.
"Hey."
Boyishly exasperated. Everything's a bit weird right now, but there's no need for doom and gloom. For one thing—
"I'm not the vanishing type."
Unlike his exes who've run out of steam and given up, and/or the vampires who dumped him in a crack house and vanished for fifty years. Ha ha. Daniel will follow through even if it risks killing him, as Louis damn well knows.
"If you don't take care of yourself I'm gonna be pissed, though."
Some minor objection. Daniel did vanish, for some months. Louis had reached out and reached out and reached out into nothingness and Daniel had not reached back.
He could argue the point. He doesn't.
"I don't wanna go such a long time without speaking to you again."
Trying to say a thing without saying it. Gripping Daniel's hand. Wanting to ask him to stay. To let Louis help, in whatever way would suite Daniel best.
Daniel didn't vanish, he was ignoring Louis. Huge difference. Let's not get lost in the weeds, here. Perhaps an unkind thing, but a necessary thing, and a boundary thing. A thing that Daniel is being pretty gracious about Louis crossing, but honestly, he's missed him. It makes his heart ache to leave, but the feeling doesn't drown out the need to assert independence.
Vampire loneliness, horrendous crimes over coupling, eternal lives ruined, children executed. He doesn't want any part of a coven, he doesn't want a companion, he doesn't want an almost-companion. Maybe in time, he'll figure out how to regulate how he feels about it. But he's not going to figure anything out while someone's watching.
What's he going to do, take care of Louis? No. Daniel is a bad partner and a bad parent. The idea of being responsible for someone else makes him want to find the nearest escape hatch. Always has. Being ransomed also has little effect on him— he knows he's not actually vanishing, knows he's not a suicide risk, and so, Louis has nothing to worry about.
"Don't change your number, then." Assuring. Look. They'll figure it out. "And think about the book, huh? You wanted to change the world. We're gonna."
A sentiment so entirely divorced from these past months of silence.
He had missed Daniel. He had been missing Daniel, years of missing him, without even fully understanding or recognizing the feeling. The way Daniel says this thing, it reminds Louis of the night they met. It reminds him of the way Daniel talked about his interviews, fussing with the strap of the bag holding his tape recorder.
World-changing. Daniel has done his fair share already.
Daniel could open the door and step out of a moving car if he wanted, but Louis doesn't make him. He pulls to the curb, as directed. Daniel is going to leave. Louis is going to let him. Daniel will publish the book. Louis is going to let him. Inevitable, all of it.
Louis wants it to be inevitable too, that they come back to each other. But he doesn't know how to draw that out of Daniel, so bites back the urge to appeal more strongly to him.
"Call me," he says instead. "I want you to call me, anytime you like. Or need."
Hands detangled (he feels cold), bag re-shouldered. Still fiddling with the straps, though there's a laptop inside of it, now.
Louis' eyes are so green. He's so beautiful, even looking unhappy with him, in the dim light of the car, with the highlights from outside. Flashing neon colors from the traffic signals, and the false warmth of yellow street lamps.
Daniel reaches over to touch his shoulder. Leans in, presses a kiss to his cheekbone. It feels friendly and chase, it feels too intimate, it's half electric and half gutting. He loves him. He wants to stay. But all of that puts fight or flight into him like a cornered animal.
Not ready. Might not ever be.
"You're gonna get so annoyed when I figure out how to really call you."
A grin, and wink, and he hops out of the car. Into the night.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
And they do fear him. He can feel it. He can hear it in the cacophony of their thoughts.
Louis grips this mortal by the throat, and flings her bodily across the room, through the door where agents are gathering. Their shouts and her scream carry, are barely stifled by the door Louis closes.
"Let's go," he says, crossing the room. Touches Daniel's cheek, gentle, something meant to be grounding. "I have a car on the corner. Run to your right."
Louis takes him by the hand, turning to shattered windw. They can jump, and land without any injury. The sidewalk cracks under impact. It doesn't matter.
no subject
Daniel should have just called, a week ago. Daniel should have slipped out the back door when Raglan told him to.
He didn't, he was never going to. It was always going to be this, because he's stubborn, and he's determined, and he prioritizes work over everything and everyone, no matter what it ruins. That doesn't stop the churning in his stomach that has nothing to do with the jump down, or the sprint to the right.
"Are you okay?"
—A shaky question, fumbling at the car door.
no subject
The door slams. They break several traffic laws instantly.
Louis still has hold of Daniel's hand. Touches his mind, a gentle pressure drawing Daniel closer.
"We were moving too fast for them," Louis tells him. "And they didn't want to hurt you."
The asset. It's fortunate enough.
no subject
They didn't want to hurt him, but they would have hurt Louis.
"You've been through way too much shit to risk getting shot at over me," he says, sounding as upset as he feels. Adrenaline for a little sneaky crime, sure, but this isn't that, this is real fear.
no subject
Hm. Maybe not the kind of statement Daniel finds comforting.
"Daniel," he appeals. A little squeeze in return, the pressure of his thumb over Daniel's knuckles. "Daniel, I'm not doing anything I don't want to do these days."
Flexing autonomy. Chasing idle desires. Some of this manifests in decor. Some of it manifests in a heist. Louis is pleasing himself these days. He isn't averse to the messiness and danger of what they'd just done.
"I wanted to get you out. I wanted you to have your information. I don't care about the rest."
Maybe in a few days Louis can tell him it was fun, in a way.
no subject
He gets a grip, because he's not a child. But he notes it. Louis came after him, helped him out, now he might have made enemies when he should be finding himself and his life post-Armand, and some woman has a future of years in surgical recovery to save her arm.
Of course Daniel went along. He, too, wanted the information. He wanted it easy and immediately and it wasn't so bad seeing Louis do impressive things, it's all just—
He's not sure.
"Thank you for helping me."
So, there's that. Not a total asshole, even if he's already thinking about which red light he's going to get out of the car at.
no subject
Can't ask, Why didn't you call me? though it weighs on him. It weighs on him as his own choice to give Daniel space weighs on him.
Hesitates.
Curls his grip a little tighter.
"Where do you want to go?"
no subject
It'll always be true that Louis walked away and Daniel died. But it can be true, at the same time, that he's happier now, and that he doesn't blame Louis for what happened. Or how it happened. Life isn't neat, and very little is mutually exclusive. He will never hold it against Louis, but there will always be a footnote there, a reminder to be ready to protect himself. He can't ask to be anyone's priority.
And that's fine. That's always been him. An ocean of burned bridges, ruined relationships, "friends" behind him. Louis is so important. He can't... he just can't.
"I have to go home."
no subject
It is true, and it weighs so heavily on Louis. It had cost Daniel dearly, Louis' freedom. He'd forgotten himself, chosen to indulge the overwhelming need that had cracked open in him over Daniel.
Laces their fingers together more securely.
"I can take you home," Louis offers gently. "I'd like to."
Do the thing he should have done in the first place. Too little too late.
no subject
Just for a second, Louis' driving him somewhere, they're near a less-impressive bridge than the one on all the postcards, veering towards Stockton, and a shitty apartment. Maybe it's 1973, and everyone's the same age that they look. 1992, maybe. He's divorced. He's going to get the fuck over himself, admit it all, finally, because the date he's on is maybe the best date he's ever had, and all that's happened is they laughed over a few drinks.
Wouldn't it be nice. Wouldn't it be nice, too, if it were six months from now, and Daniel was settled, and the idea of going on a flight with someone else, bringing them into his apartment, being scrutinized and watched over, didn't make his skin crawl. He feels bad about what he's about to do, but he also feel like he's going to claw his way out of the car if he doesn't do it. He's grateful for the help, guilty for the harm, and he just needs some space.
"The airport is fine."
Close enough to home.
"Or— couple blocks," he points, "should be a tube connection I can hop on. I've been to London fuck knows how many times. I just," man, this feels weird, "I'll make sure they don't take it out on you. I can make some calls. And I just need to figure it out, Louis. I need to know I can do it."
Alone.
circling bow territory
And Louis doesn't want to leave him.
"I'm not worried about them," Louis says, the easier topic. "I don't want you spending your favors on me."
The Talamasca can do what they like. Perceive him as they like. Louis doesn't care at all. But he cares about Daniel, and whatever link he's cultivated. Better to shift blame to Louis, who wants nothing from them, needs nothing from them.
A tightening of linked fingers. Indulging the impulse to hold on.
A thought held behind his teeth: I just found you.
It's painful. This request is painful, more so because what can Louis do but acquiesce?
Carefully, attempts a minor appeal: "Say you ain't going to vanish on me. If you won't give me until the airport, give me that much?"
jaws theme
"Hey."
Boyishly exasperated. Everything's a bit weird right now, but there's no need for doom and gloom. For one thing—
"I'm not the vanishing type."
Unlike his exes who've run out of steam and given up, and/or the vampires who dumped him in a crack house and vanished for fifty years. Ha ha. Daniel will follow through even if it risks killing him, as Louis damn well knows.
"If you don't take care of yourself I'm gonna be pissed, though."
no subject
Some minor objection. Daniel did vanish, for some months. Louis had reached out and reached out and reached out into nothingness and Daniel had not reached back.
He could argue the point. He doesn't.
"I don't wanna go such a long time without speaking to you again."
Trying to say a thing without saying it. Gripping Daniel's hand. Wanting to ask him to stay. To let Louis help, in whatever way would suite Daniel best.
no subject
Vampire loneliness, horrendous crimes over coupling, eternal lives ruined, children executed. He doesn't want any part of a coven, he doesn't want a companion, he doesn't want an almost-companion. Maybe in time, he'll figure out how to regulate how he feels about it. But he's not going to figure anything out while someone's watching.
What's he going to do, take care of Louis? No. Daniel is a bad partner and a bad parent. The idea of being responsible for someone else makes him want to find the nearest escape hatch. Always has. Being ransomed also has little effect on him— he knows he's not actually vanishing, knows he's not a suicide risk, and so, Louis has nothing to worry about.
"Don't change your number, then." Assuring. Look. They'll figure it out. "And think about the book, huh? You wanted to change the world. We're gonna."
no subject
A sentiment so entirely divorced from these past months of silence.
He had missed Daniel. He had been missing Daniel, years of missing him, without even fully understanding or recognizing the feeling. The way Daniel says this thing, it reminds Louis of the night they met. It reminds him of the way Daniel talked about his interviews, fussing with the strap of the bag holding his tape recorder.
World-changing. Daniel has done his fair share already.
Daniel could open the door and step out of a moving car if he wanted, but Louis doesn't make him. He pulls to the curb, as directed. Daniel is going to leave. Louis is going to let him. Daniel will publish the book. Louis is going to let him. Inevitable, all of it.
Louis wants it to be inevitable too, that they come back to each other. But he doesn't know how to draw that out of Daniel, so bites back the urge to appeal more strongly to him.
"Call me," he says instead. "I want you to call me, anytime you like. Or need."
no subject
Louis' eyes are so green. He's so beautiful, even looking unhappy with him, in the dim light of the car, with the highlights from outside. Flashing neon colors from the traffic signals, and the false warmth of yellow street lamps.
Daniel reaches over to touch his shoulder. Leans in, presses a kiss to his cheekbone. It feels friendly and chase, it feels too intimate, it's half electric and half gutting. He loves him. He wants to stay. But all of that puts fight or flight into him like a cornered animal.
Not ready. Might not ever be.
"You're gonna get so annoyed when I figure out how to really call you."
A grin, and wink, and he hops out of the car. Into the night.