Monday. March 7, 2016
Paris, France
--excommunication
A 30 minute cab ride delivered them from the airport to a 7 story building on the riverfront. After paying their fare, Cane turned to look out over the murky waters of the Seine. The Eiffel Tower glittered in the not-so-far distance. He thought back to the last time he?d been here with Salvador. So much had changed in such a short amount of time, he hardly knew what to expect. Back then he?d entertained hopes of one day introducing Sal to his friends here, that Sal might even like them enough to want to get to know them. The gang here was the only family he had left that he could share with the Spaniard.
Salvador put a hand on his shoulder; it drew him up out of his thoughts to the here and now. Canaan pulled in a steadying breath and looked around at Sal, mustering the will to smile at him. He readjusted the backpack on the opposite shoulder and returned his gaze to the water.
?Had you asked me a year ago if Nash would ever try to kill me, I?d have said no. Never. But obviously I was wrong. I never thought I?d ever hurt him, let alone do? what I did. I guess what I?m sayin? is it?s impossible ta really know how a person?s gonna react.? The Cajun turned his back to the river to stare at the gray stone building across the street. Cane?s eyes were angled toward the top of the building, indicating the upper levels. ?I don? know what we?ll face in dere, but I don? expect it ta take long.?
Despite Mags having requested this face to face, Cane was still surprised when, after ringing the buzzer, they were allowed entry to the building and access to the elevators that would carry them up to the penthouse.
Cane was silent during the short ride to the sixth floor. His friend Mags owned the top two floors with exclusive access to the rooftop. When the doors split open and he and Salvador stepped out into the foyer, he took a quick look around. Not much had changed in twenty-five years, but when you?re ageless, it?s easy to fall behind on the times.
A man was waiting for them in the doorway to the apartment, an expressionless and silent sentinel. As Cane and Salvador drew closer, he straightened up out of his lean to push the door open even wider in invitation.
?Aur?le,? Cane greeted politely in passing.
??lie.? The other man just barely nodded his head in response. He had the slender body of a dancer, lissome and willowy, though a couple inches shorter than the Cajun. The lean cut of his physique was on display; wearing only a pair of thin cotton pants and a knee length, knit cardigan left open over his bare chest.
The inside of the apartment was just as extravagant as the foyer. Aur?le?s bare feet slapped lightly against the marble flooring as he led the two visitors further inside, taking a right and then a left down a hallway that eventually opened up into a parlor.
Mags sat curled up in one corner of a white sofa with a book in her lap and a pair of black-rimmed glasses perched on her nose. She looked up as the three men poured into the room and opened her mouth as if to greet them, but nothing came. Her eyes darted to a closed door on the opposite side of the room, lingering for the span of a breath before returning to fix on Cane?s face. Closing the book, she set it aside and unwound her legs from underneath her body.
The Cajun stared back at her in silence, void of expression, though there was a great deal of tension that slowly coiled itself tighter and tighter in his belly. He watched her attention shift from him to Salvador, who stood just behind him to one side with his arms crossed and staring out the window. This was one time he didn?t mind the Spaniard?s default settings.
It was Mags who broke the reign of silence first. ?I would like to have met you under different circumstances.? She addressed the Spaniard sincerely, if a little sorrowfully. He did not respond. He did not even look at her.
?An? what are de circumstances?? Cane interrupted.
The redhead?s eyes shifted from Salvador to Cane, unperturbed by the former?s lack of response. ?I?m not positive,? she admitted. ?I was hoping you would be able to fill in the missing details. You see, we--? Mags? green eyes cut over to Aur?le who had taken up residence beside a large window, ?--have only heard stories. I wanted to hear your story from your lips.?
Canaan took a breath, ready to dive right into things in an effort to get it over with, but was interrupted by the female warlock before he even had a chance to begin. She waved a pale-skinned hand at him and gestured to the loveseat that was parallel to the couch.
?You can sit down if you want. Would you like Aur?le to take your bags??
The Cajun shook his head. After sharing a look with Sal, he moved over to take a seat in a chair because he knew the other man would not be joining him. Though the Spaniard did follow him, turning his back on the room, and stood nearby to stare more directly out the window. Cane put his bag on the floor between his boots, then pawed at his beard while glancing over at Aur?le momentarily. He appeared to be as disinterested in the conversation as Sal, leaning against the wall with his face tilted down to look out the window too.
?It?s a long story,? Cane said, turning back to Mags. ?It?ll prolly be easier if you tell me what?cha know an? I can fill in de blanks.?
Mags watched Salvador curiously, almost to the point of ignoring Cane. Whether she gleaned anything from the study, he could not tell. Her eyes gave nothing away when eventually she looked back down at him. ?I know it started with the priest. And then, for whatever reason, you razed an institute. It is speculated that you did not act alone. The Nephilim were unable to bring you before the council; many of them fell in pursuit of you. That is why Nash decided to go after you himself.?
There was a beat of silence in which it was clear that Mags had no more to say. Cane opened his mouth, prepared to tell his side of the story, when to his surprise the Spaniard behind him spoke.
?Tell me,? Salvador said to the window, first. The pause for dramatic effect was not entirely intentional. He merely had to take a moment to turn around and fix the woman with a level stare. ?Where is the evidence he is guilty of these crimes he is accused of??
The woman?s shoulders squared, but her expression remained open and candid. ?As I have already pointed out, we have only heard stories. I was not there to bear witness to anything. That?s why I?ve asked ?lie for his side. Am I to infer that he was not at fault, then?? Mags looked from Salvador to Cane, eyebrows raised expectantly.
?No, I was not. I didn? even know about it?. I was here wit? Sabine an? Aoife, visitin? y?all when it happened! Nash assumed it was me, an? without even takin? de time ta ask me first, supplied de Shadowhunters dat came after me wit? some?n dat would kill me. Kill me, Mags. I know I pissed him off wit? de circumstances surroundin? de preacher, but--? The Cajun swallowed the rest of the words he meant to say because they made him feel guilty.
The cool touch of the Spaniard?s fingers brushed along the side of his neck before the man?s hand settled on his shoulder to squeeze. Salvador had stepped closer to the back of Cane?s chair to offer him this silent support. The reason he was even here to begin with. ?He had nothing to do with any of it.? Sal spoke quietly but certainly in his defense, meeting Mags? eye as he did.
Bolstered by the physical reminder of Salvador?s presence, Canaan was able to keep his inner turmoil on lockdown.
?I was only telling you what I?d been told,? Mags replied to Cane, though her eyes lingered on Salvador. ?I remember your visit. Vividly.? Her expression was thoughtful by the time her eyes lowered to regard Cane?s face. ?Nash should not have jumped to conclusions, you?re right. The appropriate course of action would have been to discover the real perpetrator and bring him or her to justice.?
?I don? know what happened, exactly, ta shatter decades of friendship an? trust, but Nash was dead set. Nothin? I said or did was gonna change his mind. When he came after me himself, it wasn? ta talk or try an? figure t?ings out. I tried, Mags, but when I wouldn? fight ?im, he forced my hand. Pushed every single button I have until he found de one dat made me snap.?
Ignoring the flicker of fear in Mags? eyes, he continued with the story, though the words tasted like sour dirt in his mouth and turned his stomach.
?What was supposed ta be between me an? him, he ruined by goin? after Sal. Tryin? ta kill me is one t?ing, but I wasn? gonna let ?im get away wit? tryin? ta kill de man I love.? The Spaniard?s hand tensed briefly on his shoulder. Out of the corner of his eye, Cane could just see Salvador turning his head to look blankly away.
Mags? already pale skin turned ashen as she stared at Cane. She struggled to maintain a neutral expression, but the warble of her voice gave her away. ?No one?s heard from him in six weeks. Where is he??
The question felt like a punch to the gut. He stuffed the regretful, penitent parts of himself out of sight and told her evenly, ?I killed him.?
Canaan was distracted from Mags? shocked gasp by the sound of a door on the other side of the room being flung wide open. It hit the wall and rebounded, only to be caught by the slender hand of a petite woman with blonde hair and a tear-stained face.
?How could you?!? Ana shrieked.
Aur?le pushed away from the wall in an instant to catch her before she could reach Cane, but she continued to struggle in his arms. Just as quickly, Salvador had stepped around from behind the chair to the front, acting the part of the shield that he always called the Cajun. Though he stood more by his knee than directly in front of him, he was certainly ready to intercept should the writhing woman break free.
Both the sight and sound of her tears nearly broke him. Cane clamped his jaws together and looked away, staring at a vase across the room from him. The mask of indifference fit him like a second skin. Mags was crying silently on the couch, Aur?le was pleading with Ana, who made no effort to quiet herself. It went on for close to a minute before the Cajun cleared his throat.
?Let her go.? Aur?le ceased his senseless placating and looked up at him. ?She?s got a right ta speak ?er mind unfettered.? Cane?s voice sounded hollow, vacant.
The dark haired warlock looked uneasily from Cane to Salvador, but eventually released the sobbing woman from his arms after a few moments of deliberation.
Ana stalked away from her lover, paying no mind to Salvador whatsoever on her quest to confront Cane. ?How could you??
Though she repeated the accusation at a decibel that made his ears hurt, Canaan stared at her impassively. ?He forced my hand.? Not even a second after he finished speaking, Ana raised a hand to strike him. Cane could have caught her wrist before the woman?s palm ever reached his face, but he closed his eyes instead.
In place of the sting of a resounding slap across the face, he felt only the wind. Ana?s wrist slapped into Salvador?s cold hand and she hissed in outrage, immediately yanking on her arm to break free. The Spaniard held her only long enough to make the point, the glare of his dangerously glinting eyes locked with hers for several terribly long seconds, and then shoved her away.
Everyone moved then, including Cane. Aur?le rushed in close with an indignant, disapproving noise to put himself between Salvador and his lover. Mags got up from the couch to pull Ana away while scowling at both Sal and Cane, who had risen from the chair to get between the two men.
?Maybe you should leave,? Aur?le suggested through gritted teeth.
?Fantastic idea,? the Cajun said crisply. He leaned down to grab his bag from the floor. Upon straightening, he looked at the two women huddled by the sofa. Ana was simply beside herself at this point, and deep down, he couldn?t blame her at all. That he could relate with her to some degree was the real reason he wanted to leave. He couldn?t stand to hear her crying any longer.
There was so much he wanted to say, but couldn?t-- no, wouldn?t. He wanted to tell them he was sorry. That he hadn?t wanted it to come to this. That he wished he could take it all back. Instead he stared at the pair of them and said nothing.
?Just go, ?lie.? Mags sheltered Ana from Canaan and Salvador like they meant to do her harm. It was that precisely insulting tableau that had the Spaniard being the first to walk away and directly to the elevator, shaking his head. ?Leave,? Mags whispered bitterly through her tears.
The Cajun trailed after Salvador without a word. Once he was down the hall, he heard Ana scream at the top of her lungs. The sound pierced him as readily as if he?d been stuck with a knife. He kept going, even when she screamed again and told him never to come back.
Cane exhaled a sigh when they were outside.
?They had condemned you before you even came,? Salvador muttered bitterly. He emphasized his distaste by turning back to face the main doors of the building and spitting on the step, as soon as Cane was clear.
The Cajun looked back at the splatter of saliva on the top step as he descended the others. Then he looked up at Salvador. ?Yeah.? His head turned further still to take in the street and the river beyond that.
This was not a good place to dissociate, and no one knew better the signs of mentally disconnecting than Salvador. He slipped his left hand into Cane?s right and pulled him away from the building to flag down a cab. Any other opinion he might have on the matter, he kept to himself. The only question he had was whether Cane wanted to stay or go, and he asked it with a single word.
?Home??
Canaan reached across himself to pull a cigarette out from behind his right ear with his left hand and lit it with a simple touch of a finger without a care for anyone who saw him do it.
?Home.?
-----
?cause I know that I let you down
and I don?t wanna deal with that
__________________________________________________
((As always, thank you to Sal for writing with me and being part of my stories.))
Paris, France
--excommunication
A 30 minute cab ride delivered them from the airport to a 7 story building on the riverfront. After paying their fare, Cane turned to look out over the murky waters of the Seine. The Eiffel Tower glittered in the not-so-far distance. He thought back to the last time he?d been here with Salvador. So much had changed in such a short amount of time, he hardly knew what to expect. Back then he?d entertained hopes of one day introducing Sal to his friends here, that Sal might even like them enough to want to get to know them. The gang here was the only family he had left that he could share with the Spaniard.
Salvador put a hand on his shoulder; it drew him up out of his thoughts to the here and now. Canaan pulled in a steadying breath and looked around at Sal, mustering the will to smile at him. He readjusted the backpack on the opposite shoulder and returned his gaze to the water.
?Had you asked me a year ago if Nash would ever try to kill me, I?d have said no. Never. But obviously I was wrong. I never thought I?d ever hurt him, let alone do? what I did. I guess what I?m sayin? is it?s impossible ta really know how a person?s gonna react.? The Cajun turned his back to the river to stare at the gray stone building across the street. Cane?s eyes were angled toward the top of the building, indicating the upper levels. ?I don? know what we?ll face in dere, but I don? expect it ta take long.?
Despite Mags having requested this face to face, Cane was still surprised when, after ringing the buzzer, they were allowed entry to the building and access to the elevators that would carry them up to the penthouse.
Cane was silent during the short ride to the sixth floor. His friend Mags owned the top two floors with exclusive access to the rooftop. When the doors split open and he and Salvador stepped out into the foyer, he took a quick look around. Not much had changed in twenty-five years, but when you?re ageless, it?s easy to fall behind on the times.
A man was waiting for them in the doorway to the apartment, an expressionless and silent sentinel. As Cane and Salvador drew closer, he straightened up out of his lean to push the door open even wider in invitation.
?Aur?le,? Cane greeted politely in passing.
??lie.? The other man just barely nodded his head in response. He had the slender body of a dancer, lissome and willowy, though a couple inches shorter than the Cajun. The lean cut of his physique was on display; wearing only a pair of thin cotton pants and a knee length, knit cardigan left open over his bare chest.
The inside of the apartment was just as extravagant as the foyer. Aur?le?s bare feet slapped lightly against the marble flooring as he led the two visitors further inside, taking a right and then a left down a hallway that eventually opened up into a parlor.
Mags sat curled up in one corner of a white sofa with a book in her lap and a pair of black-rimmed glasses perched on her nose. She looked up as the three men poured into the room and opened her mouth as if to greet them, but nothing came. Her eyes darted to a closed door on the opposite side of the room, lingering for the span of a breath before returning to fix on Cane?s face. Closing the book, she set it aside and unwound her legs from underneath her body.
The Cajun stared back at her in silence, void of expression, though there was a great deal of tension that slowly coiled itself tighter and tighter in his belly. He watched her attention shift from him to Salvador, who stood just behind him to one side with his arms crossed and staring out the window. This was one time he didn?t mind the Spaniard?s default settings.
It was Mags who broke the reign of silence first. ?I would like to have met you under different circumstances.? She addressed the Spaniard sincerely, if a little sorrowfully. He did not respond. He did not even look at her.
?An? what are de circumstances?? Cane interrupted.
The redhead?s eyes shifted from Salvador to Cane, unperturbed by the former?s lack of response. ?I?m not positive,? she admitted. ?I was hoping you would be able to fill in the missing details. You see, we--? Mags? green eyes cut over to Aur?le who had taken up residence beside a large window, ?--have only heard stories. I wanted to hear your story from your lips.?
Canaan took a breath, ready to dive right into things in an effort to get it over with, but was interrupted by the female warlock before he even had a chance to begin. She waved a pale-skinned hand at him and gestured to the loveseat that was parallel to the couch.
?You can sit down if you want. Would you like Aur?le to take your bags??
The Cajun shook his head. After sharing a look with Sal, he moved over to take a seat in a chair because he knew the other man would not be joining him. Though the Spaniard did follow him, turning his back on the room, and stood nearby to stare more directly out the window. Cane put his bag on the floor between his boots, then pawed at his beard while glancing over at Aur?le momentarily. He appeared to be as disinterested in the conversation as Sal, leaning against the wall with his face tilted down to look out the window too.
?It?s a long story,? Cane said, turning back to Mags. ?It?ll prolly be easier if you tell me what?cha know an? I can fill in de blanks.?
Mags watched Salvador curiously, almost to the point of ignoring Cane. Whether she gleaned anything from the study, he could not tell. Her eyes gave nothing away when eventually she looked back down at him. ?I know it started with the priest. And then, for whatever reason, you razed an institute. It is speculated that you did not act alone. The Nephilim were unable to bring you before the council; many of them fell in pursuit of you. That is why Nash decided to go after you himself.?
There was a beat of silence in which it was clear that Mags had no more to say. Cane opened his mouth, prepared to tell his side of the story, when to his surprise the Spaniard behind him spoke.
?Tell me,? Salvador said to the window, first. The pause for dramatic effect was not entirely intentional. He merely had to take a moment to turn around and fix the woman with a level stare. ?Where is the evidence he is guilty of these crimes he is accused of??
The woman?s shoulders squared, but her expression remained open and candid. ?As I have already pointed out, we have only heard stories. I was not there to bear witness to anything. That?s why I?ve asked ?lie for his side. Am I to infer that he was not at fault, then?? Mags looked from Salvador to Cane, eyebrows raised expectantly.
?No, I was not. I didn? even know about it?. I was here wit? Sabine an? Aoife, visitin? y?all when it happened! Nash assumed it was me, an? without even takin? de time ta ask me first, supplied de Shadowhunters dat came after me wit? some?n dat would kill me. Kill me, Mags. I know I pissed him off wit? de circumstances surroundin? de preacher, but--? The Cajun swallowed the rest of the words he meant to say because they made him feel guilty.
The cool touch of the Spaniard?s fingers brushed along the side of his neck before the man?s hand settled on his shoulder to squeeze. Salvador had stepped closer to the back of Cane?s chair to offer him this silent support. The reason he was even here to begin with. ?He had nothing to do with any of it.? Sal spoke quietly but certainly in his defense, meeting Mags? eye as he did.
Bolstered by the physical reminder of Salvador?s presence, Canaan was able to keep his inner turmoil on lockdown.
?I was only telling you what I?d been told,? Mags replied to Cane, though her eyes lingered on Salvador. ?I remember your visit. Vividly.? Her expression was thoughtful by the time her eyes lowered to regard Cane?s face. ?Nash should not have jumped to conclusions, you?re right. The appropriate course of action would have been to discover the real perpetrator and bring him or her to justice.?
?I don? know what happened, exactly, ta shatter decades of friendship an? trust, but Nash was dead set. Nothin? I said or did was gonna change his mind. When he came after me himself, it wasn? ta talk or try an? figure t?ings out. I tried, Mags, but when I wouldn? fight ?im, he forced my hand. Pushed every single button I have until he found de one dat made me snap.?
Ignoring the flicker of fear in Mags? eyes, he continued with the story, though the words tasted like sour dirt in his mouth and turned his stomach.
?What was supposed ta be between me an? him, he ruined by goin? after Sal. Tryin? ta kill me is one t?ing, but I wasn? gonna let ?im get away wit? tryin? ta kill de man I love.? The Spaniard?s hand tensed briefly on his shoulder. Out of the corner of his eye, Cane could just see Salvador turning his head to look blankly away.
Mags? already pale skin turned ashen as she stared at Cane. She struggled to maintain a neutral expression, but the warble of her voice gave her away. ?No one?s heard from him in six weeks. Where is he??
The question felt like a punch to the gut. He stuffed the regretful, penitent parts of himself out of sight and told her evenly, ?I killed him.?
Canaan was distracted from Mags? shocked gasp by the sound of a door on the other side of the room being flung wide open. It hit the wall and rebounded, only to be caught by the slender hand of a petite woman with blonde hair and a tear-stained face.
?How could you?!? Ana shrieked.
Aur?le pushed away from the wall in an instant to catch her before she could reach Cane, but she continued to struggle in his arms. Just as quickly, Salvador had stepped around from behind the chair to the front, acting the part of the shield that he always called the Cajun. Though he stood more by his knee than directly in front of him, he was certainly ready to intercept should the writhing woman break free.
Both the sight and sound of her tears nearly broke him. Cane clamped his jaws together and looked away, staring at a vase across the room from him. The mask of indifference fit him like a second skin. Mags was crying silently on the couch, Aur?le was pleading with Ana, who made no effort to quiet herself. It went on for close to a minute before the Cajun cleared his throat.
?Let her go.? Aur?le ceased his senseless placating and looked up at him. ?She?s got a right ta speak ?er mind unfettered.? Cane?s voice sounded hollow, vacant.
The dark haired warlock looked uneasily from Cane to Salvador, but eventually released the sobbing woman from his arms after a few moments of deliberation.
Ana stalked away from her lover, paying no mind to Salvador whatsoever on her quest to confront Cane. ?How could you??
Though she repeated the accusation at a decibel that made his ears hurt, Canaan stared at her impassively. ?He forced my hand.? Not even a second after he finished speaking, Ana raised a hand to strike him. Cane could have caught her wrist before the woman?s palm ever reached his face, but he closed his eyes instead.
In place of the sting of a resounding slap across the face, he felt only the wind. Ana?s wrist slapped into Salvador?s cold hand and she hissed in outrage, immediately yanking on her arm to break free. The Spaniard held her only long enough to make the point, the glare of his dangerously glinting eyes locked with hers for several terribly long seconds, and then shoved her away.
Everyone moved then, including Cane. Aur?le rushed in close with an indignant, disapproving noise to put himself between Salvador and his lover. Mags got up from the couch to pull Ana away while scowling at both Sal and Cane, who had risen from the chair to get between the two men.
?Maybe you should leave,? Aur?le suggested through gritted teeth.
?Fantastic idea,? the Cajun said crisply. He leaned down to grab his bag from the floor. Upon straightening, he looked at the two women huddled by the sofa. Ana was simply beside herself at this point, and deep down, he couldn?t blame her at all. That he could relate with her to some degree was the real reason he wanted to leave. He couldn?t stand to hear her crying any longer.
There was so much he wanted to say, but couldn?t-- no, wouldn?t. He wanted to tell them he was sorry. That he hadn?t wanted it to come to this. That he wished he could take it all back. Instead he stared at the pair of them and said nothing.
?Just go, ?lie.? Mags sheltered Ana from Canaan and Salvador like they meant to do her harm. It was that precisely insulting tableau that had the Spaniard being the first to walk away and directly to the elevator, shaking his head. ?Leave,? Mags whispered bitterly through her tears.
The Cajun trailed after Salvador without a word. Once he was down the hall, he heard Ana scream at the top of her lungs. The sound pierced him as readily as if he?d been stuck with a knife. He kept going, even when she screamed again and told him never to come back.
Cane exhaled a sigh when they were outside.
?They had condemned you before you even came,? Salvador muttered bitterly. He emphasized his distaste by turning back to face the main doors of the building and spitting on the step, as soon as Cane was clear.
The Cajun looked back at the splatter of saliva on the top step as he descended the others. Then he looked up at Salvador. ?Yeah.? His head turned further still to take in the street and the river beyond that.
This was not a good place to dissociate, and no one knew better the signs of mentally disconnecting than Salvador. He slipped his left hand into Cane?s right and pulled him away from the building to flag down a cab. Any other opinion he might have on the matter, he kept to himself. The only question he had was whether Cane wanted to stay or go, and he asked it with a single word.
?Home??
Canaan reached across himself to pull a cigarette out from behind his right ear with his left hand and lit it with a simple touch of a finger without a care for anyone who saw him do it.
?Home.?
-----
?cause I know that I let you down
and I don?t wanna deal with that
__________________________________________________
((As always, thank you to Sal for writing with me and being part of my stories.))