Being at the far back of the building, the gallery was cold and eerily dim as Ethan materialised in the middle of it. After making sure he'd entered unnoticed and that no one was nearby on the other side of the door, he looked around with a wistful sigh.
He'd rarely been there. Whenever he'd visited, or rather infiltrated, the building, he had always gone straight for Damien. It had usually ended with Derek forcing him out too, so sightseeing had never been much of an option.
Large and impressive as the room was, it wasn't hard to find the five paintings in question. They were displayed proudly and eye-catchingly on the largest wall. They were almost too easy to target. Had Lucius not been the impulsive little soul that he was, Ethan doubted he'd have that hard of a time destroying them. Certainly not so it required demolishing a building and killing an alarming amount of people.
His eyes didn't linger for long at the targets though, as they were drawn to the portrait of a woman with ruddy, curly hair, that hung on the wall to the right instead.
He smiled bittersweetly, letting out a soft, trembling breath as he walked up to it.
"Been a long time, Mother." He reached his hand out to stroke the woman's cheek. "I'm sorry to say I'd almost forgotten he had this, or I would have visited more often. And yes, I know my hair is a mess right now."
A sting in his chest, and Ethan glanced over his shoulder towards the other paintings again.
"He never moved on, you know?" A soft, wry laugh escaped him. "Never even tried. Sounds romantic, I guess, but I think that's part of what destroyed him."
His laugh faded into a sigh.
"It... Really is time, isn't it?" he asked the woman in the painting. "I know you'd agree. You would have thought so long ago."
Of course, he got no reply. The woman kept smiling, standing in the middle of a flower ridden field with her white dress and unruly, frizzy hair.
"Yeah..." Ethan tried the expression as well. "... You keep smiling. Doubt you would if you could see him now. If you could see any of us, or I don't know... Maybe you can."
His eyes narrowed as pain surged through him again.
"I wouldn't want you to see it though. Everything that's happened, and... Knowing that's the end of us. I don't know what will happen to me in the end, and the two of them will just... Disappear. The fact that we'll never see you again— Or each other, for that matter— is pretty terrifying, isn't it? Or maybe that's just me."
He carefully grabbed the painting from the wall and carried it over to the others, placing it below Damien and Anthony's portraits before taking a step back.
"This..." He bit his lip as tears burned his eyelids, and he slowly sank down to the floor. "... This is as close as it gets, huh? It's been a while since we were all together, so... Guess it's nice to have a final memory of us before—"
His voice failed him, and he sucked in a breath to gather his strength again. He didn't want to do it. Of course not. He'd waited for so long with the hope that something would change, but it didn't.
And it never would.
"I won't let the fire take you, of course," he said to his mother's portrait as he brought down a curtain to wrap around it. "Just Fa..."
Once again, he stared back at the wall of paintings with a sinking feeling.
"I know you still love me," he whispered, with an anguished look at Damien's painting. "You always have. You just... Don't think it's me, and that's... Understandable, I suppose. At least I've always told myself that, no matter what happened, or whatever you said to me."
His eyes welled up again, and he turned away.
"But not Anthony." His voice broke. "You can't hurt him as well. Not like this. You— You can torture me all you want, if it helps. If it numbs your own pain. I'll be alright, but... Not him."
His vision was a blur as he looked over at Anthony's painting, remembering the conversation he'd overheard between Damien and Lucius.
"You don't... Actually want to die, right?" Tears found their way down his cheeks. "I— I know he's caused you so much anguish, but... You could have a good life now. Without him."
Deep down he doubted it would be enough. Anthony had changed throughout his immortality, perhaps even more than Damien. His lust for life had faded, and the few moments of joy he could find were always fleeting. It was possible Ethan had chosen to disregard the severity of that as well, only focusing on having his family back, but were things really so bad that Anthony had to kill himself repeatedly to cope, or to make Damien suffer more?
He shook his head. It was too late for thoughts, and no time for hesitation. He just had to get Anthony's painting out, and then it would all be over.
Except his feet refused to move, and his blurred gaze was forced to look back at the wall again, chest aching as the flood of doubt returned.
To his horror, sounds of footsteps approaching on the other side of the door pierced through his hesitation, and he begrudgingly came to terms with that his time was up.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, wiping tears from his face before forcing his body to move again. "But it's better this way."
***
The wait was excruciating. How long could it possibly take a centuries-old being to move one painting out of a house?
Lucius maintained his plastered smile, but scowled on the inside. He was too worked up to wait much longer. The plan already involved high stakes, so why complicate it further?
He's probably backing out. He doesn't want that man to die.
It was not impossible, but Lucius didn't want to believe it. After all, Ethan had approached him on his own. The more likely explanation would be Ethan having some tearful monologue and saying goodbye to his scourgefucker of a father.
But did he really need to drag it out that much?
Lucius took yet another stroll around the room, doing his best to seem interested in stupid angler conversations while trying to keep an eye on the window where Ethan would appear as soon as he was done.
Swallowing a groan, he turned his head towards inevitable eye contact with Damien, who had fortunately not attempted to talk to him, but they had to at least acknowledge the other's existence.
A chilling discomfort struck Lucius as he laid eyes on the man. No, in fact, the problem was something beside the man. Rather, something not beside the man.
Derek wasn't there.
Of course there was a possibility that Derek was wandering around on his own, but from Lucius' experiences, he wasn't much of a mingling-with-strangers person, and even worse, he seemed to have an uncanny knack of detecting Ethan whenever he was around.
So instead of acknowledging Damien properly, he raised his fan, pretending to be in need of air and made his way towards the window.
Fucking fiddlesticks.
Things would never go smoothly. Lucius just had to accept that as he stared at Ethan trying to navigate stray sunbeams further away at the corner of the building while Derek was having a pleasant time trying to maim him.
But why didn't he poof away? It was the one strong defence he had against that terror of a man, and neither the sunbeams nor his assumed state of mind were doing him any favours.
Then it struck Lucius, and he scoured the view for the source of Ethan's predicament.
The painting.
It was wrapped in a curtain, placed behind one of the trees further away, and with Ethan's inability to bring objects with him when shroud-walking, he had to walk away from there physically.
The nerve-shaking feeling in Lucius' body made him want to jump in frustration. They didn't have time for this. Why were the people of that organisation such persistent pests?
"Lady Cromwell, is everything well?" a kind-eyed woman asked and turned Lucius' attention away from the window. "Is there anything you need?"
"Just— Just some air." Lucius tried to laugh it off. "It is nothing to worry about, I'm just... A little overwhelmed by all this."
"Oh, that's understandable." The woman nodded with a sympathetic smile. "Should we perhaps open a window?"
"No no, that's not necessary." Lucius chuckled, a little too nervously. "I just have to step outside for a minute."
He made his escape with a half-stroll, half-scurry, and headed for the back door. The back door he would have been forced to use for his private life, had the wedding actually happened.
"Asshole," he muttered under his breath after making sure no one was within earshot.
He had to pause before opening the door. What was his strategy? Derek had made it very clear that he was no match if he acted recklessly, and even with Ethan's assistance there was no guarantee he couldn't deal with both of them.
That monstrous load of wasted attractiveness.
Even with recklessness off the table, Lucius couldn't stand around for much longer. The Reapers were waiting and Ethan couldn't hold out for long even if Derek chose to play 'nice'.
So perhaps it was time for his and Ethan's flare for the dramatic to join forces.
"Mr. Kilgrave!?" Lucius therefore exclaimed with a loud gasp as he came outside in time to see Derek kick Ethan down on the ground. "What is going on!? What are you doing to that poor man!?"
Derek sent him a troubled look accordingly, but didn't lose his focus on Ethan.
"Nothing that concerns you, Lady Cromwell."
"This is my engagement party!" Lucius wouldn't let his act fall even when looking at Ethan. "Of course it concerns me!"
"He's a trespasser, and a dangerous one at that. I'll handle it, so go back to the others."
"You may have Damien's support, but I won't stand for needless violence! Especially not today!" Lucius walked up to him, not without hesitation, and grabbed his shoulder with his good hand. "So you go inside right—"
"Will you be quiet?" Derek hissed, turning his head for just a second and thereby giving Ethan a chance to strike at him. Being the man he was though, Derek dodged the blow with ease but ended up giving Lucius a hard push at the same time, throwing off his balance enough to make him fall over.
That was his chance. Lucia was harmless as far as Derek was concerned, and furthermore she wasn't even standing up. All his focus had shifted to Ethan again, and even with his ability to dodge, unexpected blows were an exception.
So Lucius gave Ethan a look, hoping the man would get what he was about to do, and then reached for his knife while pretending to rub an aching arm.
Just as Lucius grabbed it, Ethan disappeared from view, and while Derek calmly spent a second of his time to see where he would show up again, Lucius stabbed forward, burying the knife above Derek's heel and carved it back out to sever its cord.
Derek didn't make a sound to suggest he was in pain, but he turned his head to look down at Lucius as his foot inevitably gave way and had him fall over as well. Even then, Lucius wouldn't give him the pleasure of readying himself for retaliation, and instead used gravity to his advantage when Derek fell over him, stabbing the knife deep into his abdomen upon impact.
This finally made Derek let out a gasp of pain, and while Lucius would usually have rejoiced in seeing him cough up blood, it was less preferable when it spattered across his own face.
But then there was silence, and the life in Derek's eyes faded before he collapsed on top of Lucius.
Holy fuck.
Ethan hurriedly pulled Derek's body off Lucius, but sucked air through his teeth as he noticed the red stains on his face.
"That's, uh... That's not great, is it?"
"Fuck," Lucius hissed as he sat up and carefully touched the blood on his cheek. "They can't see me like this."
"You're already outside." Ethan looked around. "Just run past here and get to the Reapers."
"People will see." Lucius glared at the large windows. "Doesn't take much for them to hurry outside if they suddenly see me running with blood on my face."
"And... Killing them by hand is not an option?" Ethan raised his eyebrows, and Lucius did as well. He hadn't expected a suggestion of direct violence.
"I'll head back inside and wash off. There's a servant bathroom not far from the back door, and Lucia can always find a reason to put on more powder without arousing suspicion. No one will notice if I keep my distance just long enough to give the signal and get out."
Ethan grimaced, implying disbelief, but he still looked around once more before gesturing for Lucius to hurry inside.
"I'll stay here a little longer, just to be safe. Should probably put this one out of sight too." He gave Derek's head a light kick.
"Just make sure to get the painting out of range in time." Lucius hadn't finished his sentence before hurrying towards the door, only stopping because of his nagging, emotional inner voice. "And you as well, of course."
He dared to breathe out as he closed the door behind him, blessed with a moment of silence. Then he made his way towards the bathroom.
"Splendid," he muttered as the bowl inside contained barely a handful of water. It would have to do, but by Dyris was he going to complain about it in his head.
After locating an insultingly small hand mirror in a drawer, he used his handkerchief to work on the blood. His fichu had suffered some red stains as well and he begrudgingly removed it along with the sling around his shoulder. He would just have to suffer without the support for a little while.
It was impossible to know if he'd succeeded in washing it all off. The room was dark, the mirror was small, and he could only use one hand and a barely damp piece of fabric.
He gritted his teeth.
"Fucking splendid, indeed."
His one chance to fix it would be finding another bathroom, or less preferably but still better than nothing, get to the powder booth before anyone could spot him.
He gave his ruined fichu a last look of disappointment before dropping it into the bowl. Pretty as it had been, its remains would have to go down in flames like the rest of the interior.
The corridors made any attempt at stealth impossible, as he had already established during his investigations of the mansion. It just proved to be an even greater inconvenience than Lucius would have liked it. Steering clear of the doors near the gathered crowd, he instead turned the other way towards the bed chambers. If there were no proper bowls of water in those bathrooms, even the crowd couldn't blame Lucia for not wanting to marry into that family.
"There you are."
Lucius halted with a stifled gasp, and he squeezed his eyes together.
No no no no no!
He only turned his head slightly, refusing to show the compromised part of his face.
"I needed some air," he said to Damien, who was already walking towards him in what was probably a regular pace, but to Lucius he might as well have been running. "I'm certain you can entertain the guests in the meantime."
"Both you and Derek disappeared, so I thought I would go and see if I could find at least one of you."
"Go find him then." Lucius turned away completely again, clenching his jaw while slowly reaching for the already bloody knife hidden in his sleeve. It shouldn't have to come to it, but he would not be without it in a time of need. "I will be right back. I just need a moment."
To his further frustration, no sound came to imply Damien was moving anywhere.
"Listen," Damien said, voice taking on a slightly warmer tone than usual. "I know you're upset with this arrangement and most of all, me, but we have to make this work. Just so it looks good in front of the others."
"You've been nothing but cruel to me, and my cousin, and Anthony." Lucius couldn't help himself, but he quickly held back the rest of a threatening rant. "But... As promised, I will go through with it. I just need some time by myself, which should be understandable."
"People are already asking about you," Damien still insisted, voice seemingly struggling between stern and vaguely compassionate. "This is a part of any town chief's life, even without marriage. You can rest later."
"I'm not feeling well," Lucius hissed, clearing his throat immediately after. "I— I need to be alone."
"You can't. Not today of all days." Damien's frustration grew behind his attempted kindness, but Lucius couldn't oblige.
"No, my— My chest hurts," Lucius tried, beginning to walk away before the situation escalated.
But it still did.
"Stop trying to run away." Damien grabbed Lucius' arm, and the latter cried out without a chance to hide his pain.
"Fu—" He ground his teeth together to stifle his voice, and while he fought to keep his face hidden he could still see Damien's look of confusion from the corner of his eye.
"What is..." Damien began, attempting to reach Lucius' arm again but failed as the target backed away. "... Are you hurt?"
"It's nothing," Lucius croaked through strained breaths, and he promptly picked up his pace again.
"How is it nothing!?" Damien's calmness finally cracked, and with another merciless pull he forced Lucius to spin around.
"Stop—" Lucius began before facing the man head on, stomach sinking as Damien's stare was immediately drawn to the side of Lucius' face.
"... What... Happened?" He shook his head, eyes still filled with confusion.
Until he looked down at the arm he still held a firm grip around.
Eyes widening, Damien tugged at Lucius' arm, sending another jolt of agony through Lucius' entire body, and despite strong efforts to mask it, it was already in vain.
"No," Damien whispered before forcefully grabbing Lucius' chin with his other hand.
"Stop it! Let go of me!" Lucius cried, helplessly trying to escape the grip, but Damien had already used his thumb to wipe away dried blood and smeared makeup from underneath his eye.
There was a brief hint of pain in Damien's cold eyes as he stared at the moles, and his next breath was clearly strained.
"Lu—" he began, but in his moment of shock Lucius made the excruciating choice to yank his arm free and use his last resort, letting the knife in his other hand deliver a sharp slash forward.
Damien couldn't speak further, as the gash in his throat only allowed a broken gasp to escape before sending his lifeless body to the floor.
Lucius' mind reeled. He was doomed. If he couldn't pull off giving the signal and getting out immediately after that, it would be over. Damien would recover, and if he didn't have Lucius killed instantly, he'd expose him instead. Lucius' entire life would fall apart until someone finally ended his suffering.
And then I'll be trapped in The Waste for eternity.
Looking down, he wanted to scream in rage at the new blood stains on his dress. There was no time to find a new one. He would have to think of something on his way back.
So he turned around, but to his great dismay, someone else was there. Someone he'd never expected to see that day.
"F— Frey?"
No smile, however pleasant and reassuring, could save the situation. Frey's mortified stare at Damien's body wouldn't disappear any time soon.
"I was... Certain I had said no children were supposed to attend." Lucius wasn't sure why he tried to dismiss the situation as if Frey could somehow be distracted from it, but then again what was he supposed to do when a child witnessed him slitting someone's throat?
Frey opened and closed his mouth, but couldn't get any words out. Instead he stifled a groan and squeezed his eyes together, wrapping his arms around his body.
"Oh, come now." Lucius used another comforting smile before taking a step forward. "You didn't like him much anyway, did you?"
No reply.
It was the last thing Lucius needed. Frey was shutting down, and while his silence worked in Lucius' favour he had to get him away from there immediately.
Except a growing, strangely calm sensation suddenly washed over Lucius' mind, and he exhaled a silent breath.
No, there was no time to get Frey out of there. If Lucius didn't leave immediately, it would be over.
"Alright, listen..." Lucius leaned down to Frey's eye level with an empty voice. "... Things will be alright. I'll take care of this, and we both know I'll be better in charge. So..."
He swallowed, heartbeat pounding in his ears as the next smile he attempted was completely void of emotion.
"... So just head back to your room, and stay there until I come get you, alright?"
Lucius' head ached. Feelings of weakness wanted to bleed forward, but he choked them without mercy. He was right. It was the best option for the sake of his success.
But Frey didn't move. He only held a firm grip around his body and bit his lower lip alarmingly hard.
"Now would be a good time for that." Lucius tried placing a hand on Frey's shoulder, but that's when the latter regained his ability to move, and he pushed Lucius away with a hoarse cry.
Lucius stared at him with growing impatience, anger building inside him the more time passed, but something else was burning his chest too, no matter how much he tried to escape it.
He'd been so sure he hated that spoiled creature in front of him. Handed anything he'd ever wanted, growing up in a loving family and getting to choose his future for himself, and yet he was so infuriatingly insufferable to be around.
But he was still a child. He had no part in what was happening in South Kerilia, or within the walls of The BBT. He was a child who'd been caught in the crossfire of a crumbling society. Who'd suffer the gruesome consequences of a cruel world created by rotten adults.
Lucius had suffered those consequences before. Claudia and Mabel had suffered those consequences. They had all been children, with fates others had chosen for them.
He hasn't suffered. He's been handed everything he's ever wanted. Get rid of him now!
Time was running out, and Lucius sent a nervous glance down at Damien's body before looking back at Frey.
He won't even know. It will be quick.
Lucius closed his eyes.
It served those upper crust fuckers right. If they could murder children without batting an eye, then why couldn't he?
It's only fair, isn't it?
"No." He opened his eyes again, with a begrudgingly empathetic look at Frey. "I... I can't."
You need to get out, now!
At least that last part was true, and Lucius drew a deep breath before grabbing Frey around the shoulders, to the latter's horror.
"I know you don't like listening to me at the best of times, but you really do need to leave." Lucius disregarded the terrified boy's struggling. He had never been the sturdiest of the bunch, but neither was Frey, even for someone his age. "At least get out of the building."
With some forceful shoving and pulling, Lucius managed to push Frey out through the back door at a surprisingly impressive speed.
"Ethan?" he half yelled, half whispered. "You're still here, aren't you?"
"Still here," Ethan assured him from the shadows of the building. "Who's that?"
"Son of West Kerilia's town chief." Lucius wasted no time with proper introductions, instead throwing Frey into Ethan's arms. "We're not fond of each other, he's excruciatingly spoiled, but I'd prefer him intact."
"How... Nice?" Ethan frowned at the panicking boy, but held him firm. "What am I—"
"Get away, now." Lucius was already on his way back into the building. "Take the painting and him and get as far away as possible."
"But what will happen when people see you like—"
"I'll figure it out!" Lucius hissed, panic in his eyes as he had no idea if his vague idea would work. "Just get away."
He dashed past Damien's corpse, which looked slightly less bloody than before if Lucius wasn't mistaken, but he had to keep his calm. Instead of heading directly into the crowd he took a quick detour towards the kitchen and found the nearest bottle of wine, thanking Catherine once again for an escape plan before pouring some of it over his dress.
"Lady Cromwell, what happened!?" A man who Lucius hadn't bothered to learn the name of asked, looking thoroughly aghast at Lucius' appearance as he entered the room full of people.
"Just an accident with a disgruntled servant." Lucius made sure to put some strain into his smile for some ladylike anger. "I will be excusing myself while I get this taken care of."
"Well where are they? They won't get away with this!" The man insisted on knowing, and others gathered around him as well. It wasn't optimal, but Lucius had the opportunity to move.
"I think..." he walked up to the window, and before the others could notice, he moved his hand to quickly make the sign. "... No, no I can't see them. They must still be in the building."
"Oh, your poor dress," the woman with a kind smile said, looking around as if the guilty servant would ever show their face in that room. "And at your engagement party!"
"If you'll just excuse me," Lucius tried again, now feeling it more urgent than ever. "I don't want people to see me like this for longer than needed."
Finally, people made room for him to scurry off, and he longingly headed for the entrance.
"Lucia?" Anthony's voice asked before he could reach the door, and Lucius' heart stopped. "What the Waste happened to you?"
"Just— Just wine, happened." Lucius tried to smile, panic rising in his chest. "I'm gonna fix it."
"Outside?"
"Y—Yes," Lucius began, but his stomach turned as soon as he looked past Anthony's shoulder at the blood spattered figure appearing from another doorway.
Damien's throat had yet to heal completely, but apparently it did not stop him from chasing down the culprit, and he soon turned his icy, sinister glare to exactly the person he was looking for.
"Lucius!" His blood-curdling voice of pure wrath could have shattered bones, and Lucius stood paralyzed for a moment before forcing his mind to work again.
"What—" Anthony turned around, voice choking as he spotted Damien, and his gaze snapped to Lucius again. "What's going on!?"
"I—" Lucius sent another nervous glance towards the door. Was there much else to do than run?
So he stood on his toes and pulled Anthony into a kiss, giving him a last, apologetic smile.
"I love you."
Then he ran. Quicker than he ever had. As soon as he'd crossed the garden he looked towards the hiding place of his Reapers, but no one was in sight.
"Fucking damn it," he growled under his breath, being too far away to know if the fuse had been lit. No one seemed to be following though. He most likely had Anthony to thank for that. Despite the confusion, Anthony could probably put together that Damien had found him out and was on the war path, choosing to hold him back until Lucius could get away.
That was it, then. All that was left for him was to run, and focus on nothing else. The people were still in the building, he'd gotten the painting out, the fuse was lit, and Anthony was holding Damien back. He just had to run. Past the stables, and past the grove. As far as he could.
And then the roaring, deafening boom reached his ears, and Lucius barely had time to cover them, or to figure out that he was not out of the blast zone before a strong gust grabbed hold of him and something collided with the back of his head.
For better or worse, his consciousness was gone before he'd even fallen to the ground.