Malta

[peace_inthe_violence]

This is a fairy tale of blood and bullets
It is the story of three men and three women and a small island between Italy and Africa.
This is a story about tragedy and pain, about healing and hope, but mostly it is about
love.

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[peace_inthe_violence]

"It does." He sighed, a depressed sound that was half just an exhale. "It is hard sometimes, this life. The day to day of it. You are not the only one to lose their way."

He closed his eyes, calmed by the fingers in his hair. He really was like some feral cat that had just adopted people as his own. Booker was his, so therefore he was allowed to touch him. Simple as that.

"Do you remember the village in Gabon? The school we built? I know we do not do things like that very often, but they are nice when we do, yes? I want to do more like that. Not stop what we do, of course, but maybe...add to it sometimes." He smirked, and then actually laughed.

"They were so scared of you at first, until they figured out how much of a teddy bear you are. I thought that little girl was going to try and hide in your bag when we left."

[transfuge]

"I don't like the violence." Booker's fingers went still for a moment and then got back to work. It was the second time he had confessed that. First was to Andy the last time he got this drunk. "I never wanted to be a soldier. A warrior. I never sought out a fight. But I won't stand back while you all fight."

Oh, he was good at it. Napoleon made sure he could march and shoot. Andy made sure he could fight and be brutal. Booker never asked for those things though. He never wanted to fire a musket or wield a sabre.

Children were always his favorite. Booker knew how to handle them unlike the others who could get overwhelmed sometimes. "She was a good girl. Maybe we take years like this and do works like that instead. Until it's time we move on before it gets too dangerous."

He would like to build another school and read to children.

[peace_inthe_violence]

He was quiet for a while. Long enough, in fact, that Booker could be forgiven if he thought that Nicky had fallen asleep in his lap. He hadn't, but he was thinking and that could take a while when one had so much alcohol in their system.

"I did. I told myself that I went to save my soul from the sin of lusting after another man, but the truth was that I went because I was angry. The world had not been a nice place to me. I hated myself for not being able to control my thoughts, no matter how hard I punished myself for them. I was...not a nice person. By the time the call came to march, I was nothing more than a coil of white hot anger.

"I wanted to go.

"I..am not like that often, anymore. Yusuf has tamed me, it would seem. But the idea of people out there, hurting people? Like I was hurt?" He looked up, and there was no warmth in those sea colored eyes. "I cannot stand by while they are allowed to roam the lands.

"But that doesn't mean that you have to come with us, Sebastien."

[transfuge]

There were certain people Booker wanted dead as well. People who hurt or exploited children filled him with an animalistic rage. He also enjoyed bringing down corrupt capitalists who exploited their workers.

"It does," he said with a gentle pat to the top of Nicky's head. "If one of you did't come back because I couldn't take a bullet for you... I don't want that guilt. I've got enough of it."

Because he loved these people and needed to protect them. Without them he would be alone and Booker would not do well alone. He would crumble. He would shatter.

"You would do the same for me. I can't give less." As much as he would like to avoid the bullets and the blood Booker couldn't. He couldn't let that happen.

[peace_inthe_violence]

He huffed a little half laugh, shaking his head as he bent his neck so that he could look up at the man.

"You come to bloodshed to protect us, but we're not allowed to make you stay out of the bloodshed to protect you? This does not seem far." He reached up, and even while drunk managed to pat at Booker's cheek after missing only once. And if his hand stayed there so that he could run his fingers over Booker's would be beard? He'd stop if Booker wanted him to stop. Otherwise, he was a little mesmerized by the drastic difference between Booker's stubble and Joe's beard.

"We will have to talk about this again when we are sober so that I can win."

[transfuge]

"Staying behind is a coward's way." Booker couldn't stand the thought of them leaving him behind. He needed to be there for his own sense of peace. He smiled fondly at Nicky. Drunk he was even more affectionate than normal which explained the petting of his face. A little awkward but genuinely sweet.

He leaned a little into the touch. "You won't remember this in the morning. You never do when you're this drunk."

Which was a blessing and a downfall. Nicky should remember the important parts about his good soul and how powerful Joe's love for him was. How the Crusades and what he'd done weren't his fault. "I'm not going to let you run into danger and death without me. Ever. You'll just have to accept that."

[peace_inthe_violence]

"You are not a coward, Sebastien. You are the figures we would paint on our shields." Trust Nicky to reference ancient Greek mythology while completely smashed.

His hand stopped patting and flopped back against his own chest, but that was less because he didn't want to touch Booker and more because holding his arm up like that took far more effort than he was willing to put into anything at the moment. Which might also be why he was turning his head to muffle his yawn into Booker's stomach.

"I will remember you come morning and that will be enough." His eyes were already starting to slid shut, but he was still smiling and looking perfectly content to nuzzle into Booker's stomach to sleep. "You are enough, even if you never believe us when we tell you this."

[transfuge]

Booker thought about carrying Nicky back to bed but he was probably too drunk for that. They'd both end up falling down the stairs and breaking their necks which would be a pretty embarrassing death to wake up from.

"You sound like your husband." Booker grabbed a throw blanket off the back of the couch and tossed it over Nicky. "Talking about painted shields and all that."

He tucked the blanket around Nicky's shoulders and started humming under his breath a little old lullaby he used to sing to his children. Actual singing might wake the others but a little humming to put Nicky to sleep was good.

As long as he didn't fall asleep while doing it.

[nicely_tousled]

Joe hadn't been eavesdropping, not really, mostly because the stairs were far enough away from the couch that he could only hear the cadence of voices, not the actual words, even in the quiet and still of that hour of night. So he sat, just leaning against the stair railing, watching quietly.

He'd woken a while before, hit with the sinking realization that it was too cold and too quiet in the bed to be their new usual pile of bodies, so he'd given Andy a kiss on the temple, promised -sleepily- to be back soon and that she should go back to sleep.

But when the afghan was picked up off the back of the couch he rolled to his feet, clearing his throat and stretching, "Alright c'mon, actual bed for that, otherwise you're both going to wake up stiff and I can't carry both of you."

[peace_inthe_violence]

He hummed when Booker tucked the blanket around his shoulders, reflexive curling his fingers around the edge. He was tired from waking up from a nightmare, and even more tired from drinking far too much alcohol, far too quickly. Add in Booker humming to him and, well...

He didn't notice Joe walking up. Mostly because he was well on his way to being fast asleep. Joe's voice, however, was enough to drag his consensus mind back up to the forefront and he blinked sleepily up at the man.

"Tell him we love him and that he doesn't have to fight if he doesn't want to." Welcome to the conversation? It was not in anything remotely English. Not even the same language, even. He did only slur a little, however, so he had that going for him.

"Can't carry me. It's against the rules."

[nicely_tousled]

It took him just a little too long to actually translate that demand, but he did smile a moment later, leaning over to kiss the top of Booker's head, arm sliding across his shoulder and around to his chest as he did so, tugging him back against the back of the couch gently, "Of course we love you, that's not even a question."

A pause then, just a little puzzled by the rest, though he figured if it was important someone would tell him later, because now was definitely not the time for that discussion, "And the only fight any of us are going to have on our hands is the one that's going to happen if Andy finds us sleeping down here instead of keeping her warm, and that's a fight we'll all lose."

A nod followed, "And if I can't carry you that means you're going to have to walk, or Book's going to have to carry you and I'm going to have to make sure neither of you falls down the damn stairs. Broken neck's one way to prevent a hangover, but it's not recommended."

[transfuge]

How did his night of melancholic drinking end up like this? Booker had to wonder for a moment. He went from alone to Nicky almost passed out in his lap and Joe hugging him. What was this family he had found himself a part of? And what would he do without them?

Booker patted Joe on the back before he untangled from him. "No one wants to incite Andy's wrath."

He got his arms underneath Nicky's shoulders and hauled him up. He was a lot easier to carry than Joe though Booker had done both in various fights over the years. "I don't know what rules he's talking about. Let's get him upstairs."

Booker was a surprisingly graceful drunk though he did have a lot of practice in that state. He smoothly moved Nicky over to Joe's lap in the perfect position to be carried. "There you go. I'll follow you up. Don't want to take you both down if I slip."

[peace_inthe_violence]

Joe mentioned Booker carrying him and then he was being hauled around and he grunted a little as he went from comfortably sprawled to suddenly semi-upright. His eyes narrowed a little, but he was drunk and sleepy and for once the alcohol hadn't made him mean and bitter. So instead of flailing until he 'fought' himself loose, he simply rolled off the couch, catching himself with one hand and his knees.

The glare would have been impressive if his eyes could stay open.

"I can walk."

See, he could climb to his feet and even stand completely upright.

[transfuge]

It was impressive Nicky could stand. That was a lot of alcohol for him. Booker had expected him to fall over right away. Still, he wasn't going to let Nicky try the stairs himself.

He glanced over at Joe and considered him and then considered Nicky. Alright, when force didn't work Booker only had one other skill and that was charm.

"Nicolo." Booker gently cupped his face in his hands and pressed a tender kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Lean a little on Joe and me, won't you? Just for the stairs. It's a little dark."

Booker took his hands and tugged him towards the stairs. He looked at Joe to make sure the other man got behind Nicky. The two of them could seduce Nicky up the stairs. "I want to curl up with you again. Let me pet your hair and listen to your heartbeat in bed?"

Actually, those things sounded really nice.

[nicely_tousled]

That was... well it was a much better tactic than Joe had been planning, which was essentially netting him in the blanket quickly enough that he couldn't actually take a swipe at anyone, and from behind, so there'd be no biting.

He gave Booker the slightest nod as their eyes met over Nicky's shoulder, "I think that sounds like a very generous offer." He murmured even as he eased a little closer, hand settling lightly against Nicky's side, there was no possessiveness to it, just making sure Nicky knew where they both were. From there it was easy to steer him towards the stairs, just keeping two steps behind on the way up so as to stay close enough to keep a hand on his side at all times, but not crowd him while also giving himself enough space to catch if anyone had a misstep.

[peace_inthe_violence]

His eyes narrowed in suspicion when Booker used his full name like that, but the suspicion was quickly forgotten in favor of nuzzling into that hand and chasing after Booker's lips. He'd missed being so open with the Frenchmen, free to touch him as he pleased. When Booker had put the brakes on sleeping with them, Nicky had started giving him more space everywhere else, too. For a long time, he hadn't even let himself hug the man if he hadn't seen him in a while. So to have Booker willingly in his space again?

He reached out with one hand, snagging his fingers in Booker's shirt to keep him close. The other went down to the hand on his side, keeping contact with both men. He was drunk, but he was surprisingly steady.

Until about halfway up the stairs. The world took a dive sideways for a moment and Nicky paused with one foot in the air and made a small sound of distress as he wobbled.

[nicely_tousled]

And Joe was right there, straightening on the step behind him essentially planting his feet to keep steady, and keeping the one hand splayed against Nicky's side for balance, trusting that Booker would be able to keep ahold of at least one of Nicky's hands to stabilize him between them.

"Gravity still works tesoro but let's not test it tonight, please?" He wasn't going to move until he knew Nicky was steady again.

[transfuge]

Nicky was strong but Booker had a few pounds on him. Like Joe he planted his feet and held steady while Nicky swayed. His drunk balance was much better. He caught Nicky's arm since the other man still hadn't let go of his shirt.

"Easy there. I know you want to lie down but not there. The stairs would murder my back." Booker waited until Nicky stopped swaying and then let him have another minute to make sure he was good before he started up the stairs again.

There were more than he remembered but given the size of the house Booker shouldn't be surprised it felt like forever getting up the stairs. He breathed a little easier once they were on the top floor. "I'm going to plant myself between you and Joe and sleep for a week. That good with you, ma meilleure moitié?"

He looked between the two men to be sure.

[peace_inthe_violence]

Between the two of them, Nicky managed to stay upright. It wasn't even that close of a call, but feeling both of them reach out to catch him...he was drunk, he wasn't stupid. He smiled, looking for a moment like he knew and understood that he was the luckiest man in the world.

They made it to the top of the stairs and Nicky answered that silly question by looping his arms around Booker's shoulders and stroking the small hairs at the nape of his neck.

"I would very much like that, Sebastien. Even if there is nothing but sleep- and I do believe that I am drunk enough that there will only be sleep- I will take any chance you give me to hold you.

"Habibi, do you mind tucking our wayward brother between us once more?"

[nicely_tousled]

"Of course not." He replied as easily as anything, stepping close behind Nicky once more, arm sliding more securely around his waist even as his head dipped to press a quick kiss to the crook of his neck before straightening and slipping past them, pushing the door open to verify that Andy was still asleep -or at least pretending to be- before cocking his head in invitation and indication, "Easy, careful and quiet, let her sleep."

Because being cautious for Andy's sake would also keep them at least somewhat cautious for their own sakes, no sense in anyone tripping over the floor and landing hard. For Joe's part, having Andy at his back was just as good as having the wall there, and definitely better than having it to the open room.

[transfuge]

These two men with their hearts overflowing with love were still willing to accept him. Booker was very lucky and he felt like an idiot for forgetting that.

He quietly slipped into the room. Not silently because he wanted to make sure Andy knew it was him by the sound of his footsteps. No need to worry her.

Booker shrugged out of his light button up shirt and then pulled off his t-shirt. It would get very warm wedged between Joe and Nicky. Then he got into bed and patted the spot next to him.

"Come on, Nicky. We're tired." And there was a lack of cuddling right now.

[peace_inthe_violence]

The last thing he wanted was to wake up Andy. She got so little rest, just like the rest of them. Just like he had, earlier that same night. Earlier, when he'd dreamed of...

He dug his nails into the meat of his palm, ignoring the crescents of blood that welled to the surface. He didn't want to go down that road. Not now. Not when he was about to be able to lay in bed with almost every people he loved with him.

The smell of smoke lingered in the air, but he did his best to ignore it as he peeled off his shirt. He waited for Joe to get comfortable between Andy and Booker, then waited for Booker to get comfortable against his husband, and then he finally joined them.

He sighed as he wrapped his arms around the man he'd missed so much, one hand still going to rest on Joe's side even as he pressed small kisses to Booker's collarbone. Sometime between one kiss and when another should have fallen, he was asleep.