Blood and Water

Date/Timing: 3 August 2012
Setting: Reid family home & surrounding neighbourhood; Glasgow, Scotland, United Kingdom
.
The cab driver sets Bastien's suitcase on the top step of one of a row of identical houses, accepts payment from Bastien, shakes his hand, and saunters back to the street.
Bastien hops on the spot, knocks.
Freakin' /Hagrid opens the door, booms, "Welcome to Castle Reid!"
Bastien might squeak.
""Is that him?"" hollers someone deeper inside the house.
"Yes, Dona! Come in, come in!" Hagrid waves Bastien into the foyer. "We've been expecting you!" He grins brightly. "Tor Reid, happy to meet you at last." He offers a hand the size of plate.
"Glad to meet you, too?" Bastien braces himself, takes the hand.
Hagrid's grip is, actually, pretty gentle.
"Step along, lose the shoes on the rug; there's slippers you can use if you like. I'll take your bag." He grabs the suitcase from the step and heads inside.
Bastien blinks a few times, shrugs, and follows him.
"The boys should be right through that door there—" Points. "—and dinner's at seven, but if you need something sooner, Edan will hunt up something for you."
"Thank you, Mr Reid."
"Please call me 'Tor', son."
Bastien finishes with his shoes, straightens, says, "Will do."
Tor beams, sparkles off toward the back of the house.
Bastien stretches his spine, strolls into the room Tor pointed out.
"Bunny!" cheers Edan.
"Hey, Bastien," greets Manny.
"Holy /shit! There's /two of ye!" yelps the mini-Edan formerly sprawled—now sitting bolt upright—on the sofa.
Bastien blinks from mini-Edan to Edan, finally manages, "Two of /me?! There's two of /you!"
Edan and mini-Edan look at each other, and Edan says, "Told you."
Mini-Edan rolls his eyes and flops back against the cushions.
"Bastien, meet Kris."
"Hey," says Bastien.
Kris grunts.
"Can I, umm, borrow my brother a moment?"
"Only if you promise to bring him back. We kinda need him," answers Edan.
"Doubt I could really keep you two separated," laughs Bastien, pulling Manny to his feet and into the hall.
Manny quirks an eyebrow.
Bastien checks for eavesdroppers, whispers, "Do you think Mother—"
"I doubt it. They both look exactly like their mother."
"So do we!"
Manny stuffs an eye roll. "So does their sister and every other member of their mother's family, from the pictures I've seen. The Grays simply have a strong family resemblance."
Bastien wrinkles his forehead. "But what if—"
"Bastien. Isn't a family resemblance more likely than outside genetic manipulation, given I've seen images of three generations with similar faces?"
"It's still creepy," he grumbles.
"Perhaps it is, but it's just a roll of the genetic dice." Manny rests a hand on his shoulder. "Let's get back before they start to wonder."
Bastien huffs, but allows Manny to steer him to the front room.
"You're back just in time! Trini and Fen-fen are coming to take us shopping for last minute bits and bobs."
"Please tell me Trinity's the one driving," sighs Hermann.
"I'm not /that bad," protests Edan as he takes Manny's arm.
"You're merely frightening; Fenella's bloody /terrifying."
Edan scoffs, tows Manny out, calling over his shoulder, "You boys entertain yourselves~!"
Bastien looks to Kris.
Kris shrugs.
Bastien plops in the chair catty-corner from the sofa, rubs his neck. "So, uh, Scrabble?"
"Cards?"
"Poker?"
"Follow the Queen?"
"That's card after the queen's wild?"
"Yea."
"Sure. What do we bet?"
Kris checks his pockets, frowns. "Snacks?"
"I've got candy in my bag." Bastien hops up, digs around, retrieves the packet, skips back.
No Kris, but a deck of cards rests in the middle of the sofa.
Bastien settles in beside it to wait.
Cupboards /bang and cutlery /clangs in the kitchen.
Bastien opens the candy, piles the blue ones on the table, smiling to himself.
A clatter and the most /vile string of profanity ever to tickle his ears bursts from the kitchen.
Bastien flies to the entry, peers in.
Kris stands at the sink, hand under the running tap, palm and water streaming with blood, more dripping from the countertop to the floor.
"Can I—" Bastien steps closer, reaches—
"Get away from me!"
Bastien recoils, hands out, palms out.
"Ye don't want any a' this on you."
"What's ...?"
"Hepatitis C, so fuck off an' lemme deal with it."
Bastien swallows. "I didn't—"
"I don't wear a fuckin' badge." Glowers. "I still don't wanna give it t'ye, so beat it."
"Ah-alright." Bastien retreats to the relative safety of the front room.
A few minutes later, footsteps and someone clears their throat.
Bastien looks up from his mobile and WebMD.
Kris sets a tray of apple and cheese slices and a few bits of chocolate on the coffee table, slouches onto the far end of the sofa, ruffles his hair with his bandaged hand. "Look, I didn't need to snap so hard at ye, but this's serious shit and I don't wanna be responsible for passing it on."
"I-I understand." Swallows. "I, uh, thought they screened that outta the blood supply."
"They have."
Bastien ... "Oh."
Kris sniffs.
Bastien lowers his eyes, chews his lip.
"Yea, so, I'm the glorious fuck-up of both our families, best not expect too much from me."
Bastien brightens. "Then I should be able to /totally kick your ass at this, right?"
"Go 'head, underestimate me," smirks Kris. "Paper, rock, scissors for the deal?"
"On one ... two ... three!" Bastien cackles, grabs the deck, and starts a leisurely shuffle.
Kris sprawls, head rolled back, watching the ceiling.
"So ... you starting uni in fall?"
"Nope."
Bastien doles out cards. "Have a job lined up?"
"Not yet."
Bastien picks up his hand, frowns. "Looking for one?"
"Yea." Kris straightens, gathers his cards, examines them, completely stone-faced.
"The economy's bad here, too?"
"It's complete shit."
Bastien snorts in sympathy.
Bastien takes the first three hands, munches through the chocolates.
Kris wins the fourth, unwraps one of his blue winnings—
"Careful, those things taste weird."
—pops it in his mouth. Grimaces. "The fuck /is this?"
"My brother Dee's favourite flavour," laughs Bastien.
Kris spits the thing into his hand. "It tastes like the bloody harbour!"
"/That's what they are? Glasgow harbour-flavoured?"
"Ye know, I'm not so sure anymore. How 'bout I throw you in for a second opinion?"
"I think one opinion's enough on those." Bastien wipes his eyes. "'sides, I don't think you could lift me."
"Ye wanna test it?" Kris growls.
"Fiiine. You probably /can lift me."
Kris huffs, sweeps up the cards, shuffles for the next hand.
"So, you swim in the harbour here?"
"No."
"Then the 'tastes like' thing's a metaphor?"
"No." Kris deals.
"How do you know—"
"'coz a coupla dickheads tried to drown me in it over the winter."
Bastien checks his hand. "What did you do to them?"
"Nothin'. Never seen 'em before in my life."
"So why'd they pick you?"
"Why not? I've known ye less than an hour and I'm thinking of dunking /you."
"Over bad candy?"
"That not enough reason?"
"Are you /always this angry?"
"The fuck does it matter?"
Bastien blinks. "Ohhh ... wait, you're trying to scare me off." Smiles. "I know how this goes."
"Really, now." Kris sets his cards on the cushions, crosses his arms.
Bastien does the same. "Yea, really." Takes a deep breath. "Long story short, my father didn't allow me to have friends—or a mobile or email or to go anywhere /but school without him."
Kris grunts.
"So I was as nasty as I could be to everyone who even /looked my way. People left me alone and I never had to explain why I couldn't invite them over or go to parties. Which was alright, mostly."
Kris uncrosses his arms, picks at the ragged cuff of his hoodie. "You're sure not doing that now."
"My rules changed, thank God."
"'course."
"Manny and Dee—my oldest brother—talked my father into letting me move in with Dee in Geneva and everything's different."
"Hermann helped, yea?"
"Yea. It was his idea that got me out."
"Now he's the reason /my brother won't help me out of my shithole life."
"Wha? What's he doing?"
A door opens, closes, and there's shuffling in the hall.
"It's more like what he's /not doing."
"We would if we could, Kris," says Edan from the doorway.
Kris whips his head up, glares.
Bastien blinks.
"What's stopping ye? Or should I ask /who?"
Edan winces. "I'm gonna figure something out. I just need time."
Kris scoffs.
Bastien looks from one to the other. "What are you trying to figure?"
"I want to move to London and need /his help."
"Why don't you invite him to live with us?"
Edan's eyes get huge and frightened.
Kris whirls on Bastien. "'/Us'?"
"Uh, yea? I'm moving into their flat when I start uni next month."
Kris shoots Edan a look that could kill.
Bastien's heart crashes into his socks.
"It's Hermann's immune system, Kris. We can't have someone with a chronic infection in the house."
"So because /he's all squeaky clean he's welcome?!"
"At base, yea."
"So ye /are writing me off!" Kris throws himself to his feet, snarls, "Fuck you, 'big brother'," and stomps out.
Bastien swallows, floats to his feet.
A door slams.
Edan takes a deep and shaky breath, slumps against the wall.
"I'm so sorry ... I didn't know he—"
Edan waves him off. "My fault." Sighs heavily. "This whole mess is my fault."
Bastien slinks over, whispers, "It's not his blood, is it?"
Edan shakes his head.
"Manny doesn't trust him."
"Would you?"
Bastien cringes, but, "Do you?"
"With something like that? Yea, I actually do." Runs a shaky hand through his hair. "Kris isn't a bad guy, he's just ...."
"Hurt," croaks Bastien, "and lonely."
"Yea."
"I've, uh, been there? So maybe I can talk to him?"
"I don't think he'll want to talk to you. At least not for a little bit."
"Where would he go?"
Edan runs a hand through his hair. "Uh, he'd probably—" Furrows his brow. "—follow the lane 'til he finds some waste ground and hide there."
"Gotcha. Thanks." Bastien darts for—
"Careful!" Manny yelps, flattening himself against the wall.
—"Sorry!"—stuffs his feet in his shoes and dives out the door.
He hangs a left onto the pavement, breaks into a jog.
One block.
Two blocks.
Three blocks.
Four.
An abandoned house?
Bastien sticks his top half inside, calls, "Kris?"
Nothing but creaking floors.
Bastien steps into the foyer, yells, "Kris? You in here?"
Right behind him: "Keep it down, would ye?"
Bastien shrieks, whirls.
"Skittish much?"
"How did you /do that?"
"I don't go around screaming like a baby."
"You fuckin' went all ninja on me!"
Kris rolls his eyes. "You just weren't listening right." Huffs. "There's a place to sit upstairs. Step where I do." He turns and goes.
Bastien shakes loose some tension and follows, carefully placing his feet, to a room with a two glassless windows overlooking an overgrown garden.
Kris eases to the floor between them.
Bastien sits next to him, juuuuust out of brushing range.
"Why'd ye follow me?"
"I wanted to make sure you were alright."
"A Reid send ye?"
"Only saw one and he tried to talk me out of it."
"Huh. So why'd ye do it?"
"I already said."
Kris scratches his elbow, grumbles, "Ye can't fuckin' fix me, /Bunny. Better people've tried already."
"I'm not trying to. I want to be a friend."
"I don't need friends."
Bastien snorts. "Yes, you do."
Kris scoffs.
Birds chirp and the house groans around them.
Something skitters inside the wall.
"I left something out of my story before."
"Do tell," drawls Kris.
Bastien puts his shoulders back. "Her name was Anaïs."
"Aww ... she your first love?"
"Maybe?" Shrugs. "She was a friend, at least."
"What'd ye do to run her off?"
"She died. Right in front of me." Swallows. "I couldn't do anything but hold her hand."
"/Jesus."
Bastien drags his hand across his eyes. "I thought—really /thought—about topping myself. Stole my father's razor and hid it, even."
Kris shifts.
"But I decided the chance that things'd get better and I might meet someone like Anaïs again was worth putting up with the shit for a while longer." Smiles over. "I got lucky and it only took a couple of months."
Kris ... sighs.
"How long has it been this bad?"
"Almost a year." Kris closes his eyes, rests his head against the wall. "Since my dad pitched me out, at least."
"Because of the drugs?"
"Drugs came later." Kris takes a deep breath. "Was because I'm gay."
Bastien blinks. "Your dad's a bigger asshole than mine. I didn't think it was possible ...."
Kris side-eyes him. "Learn something every day, yea?"
"Yea."
"So ... wanna go back and finish our game?" Kris rubs the back of his neck. 
"Sure."
"One condition."
"What would that be?"
"No more betting those shit candies."
"Deal." Bastien offers his hand.
Kris shakes, smiling.
Category:Ficlet
Category:Glasgow (setting)
Category:Bastien
Category:Bastien's POV
Category:Torquil
Category:Torquil (ficlet)
Category:Dona
Category:Dona (ficlet)
Category:Edan
Category:Edan (ficlet)
Category:Hermann
Category:Hermann (ficlet)
Category:Kris
Category:Kris (ficlet)
Category:Birgit (mention)
Category:Annie (mention)
Category:Fenella (mention)
Category:Trinity (mention)
Category:Dietrich (mention)
Category:Lars (mention)
Category:Anais (mention)
Category:Ficlets with images
Category:Celestial Mechanics
2012 08 03