The entrance door led to the living room, and thus, the moment Jake opened the door, revealing Pierrot behind it, Tristan also caught a glimpse of the man.
Autumn had settled in, and the air had grown cold. Not too cold yet, but cold enough to be uncomfortable. Hence, Pierrot wore a long trench coat, coupled with a loose grey scarf. Underneath, he wore a classic, well-tailored three-piece suit, which was partially revealed by the unfastened jacket. One hand held onto a leather suitcase, and polished shoes completed the set. From afar, he looked like nothing more than your average run-of-the-mill businessman, minus the handsome face and well-built body.
Time seemed to halt for a moment until, ultimately, Tristan sprang to his feet and bolted to his frozen brother, yanking on his wrist to pull him behind him. The child's body was small and thin compared to his adult self, but it didn't matter. At the very least, he wanted to erect a barrier between Jake and Pierrot, however ridiculous that sounded.
"What the fuck are you doing here?!" Tristan snarled, uncaring about the rude behavior. Whether he liked it or not, he'd been peeking into that madman's mind for years now, and over time, he'd managed to grasp a few aspects of his twisted personality.
For starters, Pierrot couldn't care less if others were respectful of him or treated him like shit, depending on the context. That said, Tristan would bet his hand that, right now, he would be apathetic to whatever insults could come out of his mouth. If anything, it might even amuse him. So, he might as well blow off a bit of steam. It wasn't like he was any more polite in his text messages, either.
"Well," Pierrot started, his gentle smile still lingering on his lips, "I was in the neighborhood, and I thought that, since I'm already here, I should at least drop by."
"And would you care to tell me what kind of business you had in Misha's frigging neighborhood?!" Tristan growled, adopting a more defensive pose in front of his brother. "Like hell your presence here is coincidental!"
"It really is, though," Pierrot's smile deepened, his eyes curving into discreet crescent moons. He looked down on the tiny child, who was acting like a guard dog in front of his brother. How cute. "You'll know soon enough, anyway, so why bother explaining?"
"It's not like your goddamn memories are all that useful!" Tristan cried out in frustration, raising his hands to the heavens in exasperation. "The crucial parts are, strangely enough, always missing! Dreaming about your days is basically a waste of time!"
To the accusation, Pierrot responded with a shrug, then gestured to the inside of the house, "Won't you invite me to come in? Aren't you getting cold?"
"Aaah? Do you ser–"
Jake swiftly plastered a hand over his little brother's mouth, finally coming back to his senses. He looked down at the little fury, a bit dazed. In this life, he had never gotten to see Tristan truly angry. For years, the boy had managed his emotions well, so as not to burden his brothers, and Jake didn't know how to feel now that the bottled-up emotions were exploding right under his nose. Tristan was struggling to free himself and give one more piece of his mind to Pierrot, something he usually would never do.
A strange feeling was twisting his stomach at the sight, as if his bowels were forming knots. It felt odd to see the mature child acting his age and throwing a real tantrum, and not one engineered to get the adults to do whatever he wanted. Right now, Tristan was simply, honestly speaking his mind. No pretense was required here.
Pushing aside the troubling emotions agitating his heart, Jake took a step on the side, dragging his brother with him, and carefully said to Pierrot, "…Come inside."
"Thank you."
***
In the meantime, Gabriel and Masha had turned off the car in the parking lot and gone inside the hospital. While Masha went to report her arrival, Gabriel took a ticket for the triage and sat on the bright orange bench in the waiting hall. He lifted his eyes to look at the small screen pinned above two doors. The bright red number on the black screen was glaring, showing 98 – his was 104.
Comfortably seated, Gabriel's eyes trailed to the wide entrance door. Now, it was a game of waiting. Who knew how long it'd take for Camille to show up, if she showed up at all. It may take a few minutes or a few hours; it was impossible to say.
Maybe he should have brought a book with him to kill time... That was a miscalculation on his part. Or perhaps not. A moment later, the automatic door slid open.
'…Oh, what would you know?' Gabriel resisted smiling when he saw a peculiar woman pull a ticket and walk toward the bench. Her eyes were darting around the room, seemingly searching for someone. 'Masha was right. She came over today again.'
Before Camille could notice he was staring at her, Gabriel focused his attention on his phone, pretending he hadn't seen her. The point was: he wanted to know if she would try to strike up a conversation first. Taking the initiative would be counterproductive, and honestly, if she decided to ignore him altogether, he wouldn't mind. He had never been fond of this woman, and the less he spoke to her, the better he would feel.
"Gabriel…?"
It didn't take long before his hopes were dashed. The slight excitement that made Camille's voice tremble gave her away in a split second: her real target wasn't Masha, but him. Jake's hunch was correct.
"Camille?" he asked back, slightly raising his eyebrows in surprise.
Acting was second nature to him, as it had been his means of survival as a teenager in the hellhole that was his home, and it was easy to pretend he hadn't expected to meet her. Moreover, the trembling of her eyelids and her pale lips also suggested that she might not have been fully present, mentally. On what drug was she? Did it really matter? Probably not. Gabriel couldn't care less. The only thing that interested him was that the easier she was to influence, the better it would be for him. Even if his probing became a bit obvious, she might not notice, her thoughts too jumbled up.
"W-what are you doing here?" she stuttered, nervously pushing her now pinkish-dyed hair behind her ear.
"Well," Gabriel scratched his cheek, seemingly troubled by the question, for the answer was usually evident in a hospital. People rarely came to the place to chat and enjoy a good meal. "I'm waiting for the triage? I'm feeling a little under the weather today, so I decided to take the opportunity to get myself checked after dropping off Masha. Her car gave up its life this morning, so…"
"Masha," Camille repeated her ex's name, and then jolted, as if remembering something. "Right, Masha!"
Without a warning, Camille came closer to Gabriel and sat directly beside him, bending over until she was in his personal space. It made him flinch slightly, but he didn't move, waiting for her to speak up again. Her brain seemed to have short-circuited for a few seconds before she whispered, her eyes wide open, looking almost crazy, "Are you still pretending to be her boyfriend? After all these years?"
Gabriel felt his mouth twitch, but considering he had been pretending to be Masha's boyfriend for over eight years already, it was a somewhat valid question to ask. However, he'd have preferred if she had started the conversation with something else instead. Something more light-hearted, maybe.
Nevertheless, he'd need to entertain her until she misspoke and blurted out things she shouldn't have. So, he might as well get that topic out of the way as soon as possible. Whether he told her about his not-yet-verbally-confirmed lover was another story, though.
***
Pierrot looked around the house with what seemed to be curiosity, to which Tristan spat, "What are you looking around for? You've seen the place a thousand times in your dreams already!"
The words made Jake wince internally, and he regretted releasing his little brother. Tristan was throwing buckets of oil on the fire, wrecking Jake's nerves! What if Pierrot got annoyed and decided to eliminate them? Unlike Gabriel, Jake wasn't proficient in self-defense or any other martial arts, for all that mattered. Heck, he wasn't even physically fit! He was only slender because of the jogging his brothers forced him to do with them in the morning, and his bad eating habits. There was a reason why he hadn't been able to do much during the kidnapping incident! And if anything, he'd very much like not to have a repeat of that, thank you.
To his brother's warning glare, Tristan pinched his lips. He obviously couldn't understand why Jake had invited Pierrot, the man who had plucked his eye out, inside! He wanted the guy out of the house now. It was one thing to talk through text messages, but it was another when it was face-to-face!
"I might have seen it in my dreams," Pierrot said, "but that was always from your point of view. It's quite refreshing to see it with my own eyes."
"Is that so?" Jake managed to answer through gritted teeth before Tristan could. He forced himself to take a deep breath, trying to calm down his erratic heartbeat, before asking, "So? Why are you here? I doubt it's for a courtesy visit."
"How cold," Pierrot clicked his tongue, his chocolate eyes landing on Jake's delicately crafted eyepath. "But you're right; it isn't for a courtesy visit. I've got better things to do."
As Pierrot spoke, he opened his suitcase and pulled out a neat envelope, handing it over to Jake. "Use it when the time is ripe."
Jake hesitated, eyeing the envelope with suspicion, "What is it?"
"What's missing to link your father to the cartels in South America, and a few of his major illegal activities."
Jake froze, and Tristan, too. What?
However, their stupor didn't last long. The ringtone of a phone echoed throughout the silent living room. It was Pierrot's. He stuffed the envelope in Jake's arms before retrieving his phone from his coat pocket and glancing at the text message he had just received. He cocked an eyebrow before glancing at the two brothers.
"You might want to warn Gabriel that thugs will be waiting for him in the parking lot, courtesy of Camille's uncle. I believe you'd rather he doesn't go through what you, Tristan, and Misha did. And as I said, I've got better things to do."
Pierrot's words were like a bucket of cold water, and Jake felt his body tense from head to toes. He didn't know if he should take them seriously or not, but warning his brother to be careful wouldn't do him any harm, regardless of the veracity of the man's words. Even if Gabriel was strong and could hold his own, he was still a human, as far as Jake knew. A blade or a bullet was all that was needed for his brother to collapse and grow lifeless.
"…Why are you intervening and helping us?" Jake heard himself ask as he typed a message to his brother, warning him of the potential danger.
Pierrot shrugged, "Because we need Gabriel alive. For now, at least."
"We?" Tristan repeated, glancing at Jake's phone before glaring at the man, whose only answer was yet another polite, gentle smile.
"I'd love to stay longer," Pierrot turned around back to the door, opening it as he peered over his shoulder, "but I'm pretty busy, you see. At any rate, it was great to see you again, brother."
With that said, Pierrot left, and the door closed behind him with a loud thud. The encounter was brief, and if not for the brown envelope left behind, both brothers would have thought they had dreamed the whole thing.
What the heck was that?