The two of them sat on the bonnet of Lucius's beaten-up sedan, staring out over the starlit hills of eastern Etruria. Midnight had long since slipped by, but neither Raven nor Lucius moved to turn in. They both sipped cheap beer from a petrol station a few hundred miles back. It helped to dull Raven's nerves some, but not enough for his liking.
"I still can't believe we're doing this," he said for nearly the dozenth time that night.
"We can turn back, if you'd like," Lucius offered. He didn't sound particularly thrilled with his own suggestion. Raven couldn't tell if it was irritation or the beer that was responsible. Likely the former—Lucius was still finishing his first drink. Alcohol didn't mix well with his medications.
"No, I'll not be deterred. It's just strange to think about," Raven replied. "I haven't thought about Priscilla in so long that I barely know where to begin."
He punctuated his words with a sigh. It was Lucius's fault that they were seven hours out from home, chasing some idea of his sister. Raven would have been more than content to leave well enough alone. What would Priscilla want with him, anyway? He was a secondary school dropout who worked at a goddamn auto plant, for Elimine's sake. If Priscilla expected some sort of brilliant or successful brother, she would be sorely disappointed. Hell, he felt lucky on the months where he and Lucius had the coin left over to set aside for later. Raven snorted amusedly and shook his head.
"What's so funny?" Lucius asked.
"I don't think I'm quite what she'll have expected."
"It'll be a pleasant surprise, I'm sure," Lucius said, his face softening. That smile of his never failed to bring a burst of warmth through Raven's chest. It promised safety, like the glow of a lighthouse through torrential rain, and it prompted him to throw an arm around Lucius's thin shoulders.
"Regardless of what she thinks of me, I'm sure she'll love you," Raven murmured.
Lucius laughed softly.
"That's assuming she likes the idea of us together."
"It's Etruria. You worry too much," Raven soothed.
"Mm, I know. That doesn't mean I'm not right sometimes," Lucius replied. His words didn't carry any real bite, though. "I meant more that I didn't know if she'd approve of anyone you dated, anyway. I won't lie and pretend that I'm not conscious of the fact that we're both men, but it truly doesn't concern me very often."
Raven nodded wordlessly, stroking Lucius's hair while he thought. How would he feel if Priscilla were in a relationship with someone? Would he even care? He wanted to think that he wouldn't, but his mind fed him images of the news report that led him to Priscilla in the first place, of the dark-haired boy whose hand she held as she stared shakily into the camera. Raven didn't know who that boy was, but the sight of him, pale and nervous and fiddling with his square-framed glasses, was enough to send a spark of anger through him. Maybe Lucius just feared the same sort of animosity from Priscilla.
All the same, Raven didn't want to see his sister for the first time in twelve years and start off with, "Hey, I'm your brother, I changed my name to Raven, and by the way, I'm really fucking gay." On the telly, Priscilla looked so unchanged from their childhood. She still had the same sickly look to her, the same wide, brilliant green eyes—a throwback to their grandfather—and the same careful way of speaking. Raven didn't feel like the same boy he had been when she knew him, though. Then, he hadn't been so rundown by life, scarred from fights and the flames of his ruined house. He didn't know if she would even recognize him, tanned and muscular and with worry lines already etched into his forehead.
"You'll be all right. Really," Lucius said, reading Raven's thoughts far too easily.
"I'm not concerned," he replied, but his voice sounded too low and too flat, even to his own ears.
Lucius brushed his lips to Raven's jaw.
"You're a good man. Even if you're not what she expects, you oughtn't forget that."
"...You're right. Worrying doesn't become me," Raven grudgingly admitted.
"At least not as long as I'm around to do it for you," Lucius said with a light laugh. "In any case, it's getting quite late. We should get some rest before we set off tomorrow."
Raven nodded and drew to his feet, stretching fully. He shook out the last drops of his beer into the grass, then tossed it into the boot alongside his other three. The cool night air pounced on him the moment he took off his favorite blue coat, and he shivered for a moment as he fumbled with the car door.
"I'll sleep up front, all right?" he said as he handed his jacket to the other.
"Thank you, sir," Lucius replied, a tired old joke that still made them both smile-he had been adopted by the Cornwells' butler all those years back. Little else had stuck with him in the wake of Cornwell's fall, but it was one habit Lucius hadn't shaken. "I'll set my alarm for nine o'clock."
"Make it eight. I'd like to get breakfast."
"Eight it is, then," he agreed as took off his glasses and slipped his sweater over his head. For a moment, Raven admired the sharp angles of Lucius's torso, before the blonde balled his sweater into a makeshift pillow and lay down across the back seats. He draped Raven's jacket over himself like a blanket.
"Night," Raven said as he leaned back in the driver's seat.
"Good night," Lucius replied.
It wasn't long before Lucius nodded off, his breathing growing deep and regular. For a while, the familiarity of it served to calm Raven down, but as the minutes dragged on, it began to grate on his nerves. Try as he might, he couldn't manage to go to sleep, despite the alcohol in him. He was used to sleeping in the car, either while they were homeless or during the drive between flats, but his concerns gnawed on him that night.
He sighed and glanced over his shoulder at his sleeping boyfriend. The back seat wasn't quite long enough for Lucius to stretch all the way out, so he lay half-curled, like a church mouse in its burrow. Raven wished he had Lucius's ease with falling asleep even at the best of times, when his nightmares woke him a dozen times a night. At that moment, as he tossed about, images of his sister flashing against the backs of his eyelids every time he blinked, he would have traded his left arm for Lucius's restfulness.
Somewhere between his thoughts and concerns, Raven drifted off, right as the sun painted the horizon in butter-cream yellow.
All too soon, Lucius's watch screeched out its alarm, and Raven jerked awake.
"Elimine, I feel like I didn't sleep a lick," he groaned, rubbing at his eyes.
"Pass me my glasses, please," Lucius said, words garbled by a yawn. The morning light haloed him in gold as he sat up, Raven's jacket pooling around his waist. If it hadn't been for his scrunched-up eyes and tangled-up hair, he would have looked like he walked out of a magazine centerfold. As it was, though, Lucius more closely resembled a twelfth-year schoolboy running ten minutes late to catch the bus. Raven smiled to himself.
He listened to Lucius's chatter as they both got dressed. Lucius kept his favorite khakis and oxfords, but he swapped out his sweater for the button-up he wore to church, and he tied back his hair with a blue ribbon. Raven knew he looked shabby in comparison, his red hair permanently unkempt and his work boots scuffed to hell and back. They'd picked out a new shirt for him, one that didn't have the smell of cigarette smoke married to its fibers. He felt that he still looked like a scoundrel, though, and he ran his fingers through his hair in hopes of taming it.
They finished brushing their teeth and taking turns shaving with the electric razor. Eventually, Raven couldn't stall any longer, and he took the driver's seat.
"Ready to go?" he asked, feigning confidence.
"Yes, sir," Lucius replied with a smile.
With that, Raven keyed the ignition and the car lurched onto the road. The lush Etrurian hills rolled past as they made their way through the countryside. Lucius occasionally looked down at the map in his lap and indicated turns to take, but for the most part, they drove in relative silence. It was unusual for Lucius to sit quietly—normally, he would be pointing out historical street names or rambling on about some book or another that he had picked up at the library. Raven wasn't sure if that silence relieved or bothered him. Much as he hated rehashing the same debates and tired old conversation topics, talking might have kept his mind from wandering.
"Maybe I should drive," Lucius said after an hour or so. "Your knuckles are so white that they hurt to look at."
"You can drive after breakfast," he replied.
"It's ten already, you know. If you put off breakfast much longer, we'll be having lunch."
Raven grumbled under his breath.
"Fine. You pick somewhere."
He didn't expect Lucius to wait very long to make a decision, and so he wasn't surprised when Lucius expressed interest in a place called The Pancake Stack five minutes later. They pulled into the parking lot among a small crowd that seemed to have departed from church.
"Looks like there are plenty of your sort even here," Raven said.
"Well, yes. Etruria is where St. Elimine hailed from, you know," Lucius began. "Although back then, there was no Etruria. There was only-"
"I know, I know. Dragons and humans fought a great war, then the eight heroes saved us all. Even I know that story by heart," he replied. He felt a nip of remorse at how harsh he sounded, but he couldn't bring himself to apologize.
"I'm surprised. Here I thought you didn't pay attention at all in church," he returned with a grin.
They strolled through the door to the restaurant as they talked. A chalkboard sign said "SEAT YOURSELF" in clumsy script. Despite the church crowd, a few tables still remained unoccupied, and the two of them made their way towards one in the corner.
"I listen sometimes. Just not always to your singing," Raven teased.
"I—Raven!"
"You're so melodramatic," he said with a shake of his head. "I was only joking. What is it that you always tell me? 'Elimine may bring us light, but we must make our own warmth?' Something like that, anyway. I was just easing the tension."
"Tension? ...Ah, you're still worried about your sister, aren't you?"
Raven held eye contact for a second or two before looking away. He knew there was no point in trying to keep anything from Lucius—the blond man had some sort of preternatural empathy that never failed to divine others' true feelings. It made Raven sorely tempted to snap at Lucius to stop his pestering, but he swallowed the urge and shook his head.
"It's not that. It's more like..."
He trailed off, gesturing vaguely. Lucius nodded as if unsurprised.
"Like you're so emotionally repressed that you can't even articulate it, yes. I know," he said, smiling gently to ease the sting of it. It still made Raven bristle.
Their waitress showed up before he had a chance to reply.
"Cup of coffee and a number three," Raven said. His words came out more snappish than he intended, but he didn't move to apologize.
"I'll take an orange juice and a stack of buttermilk pancakes, please," his boyfriend ordered. As the waitress took their menus and left, Lucius shook his head at Raven. "You know it's true, sir. Don't get mad at the waitress because of me, either."
"I don't go around poking at your faults all the time," he grumbled. "Like how you're stubborn and nosy and talk way too much, for starters."
Color rose to Lucius's cheeks, but he swallowed his usual protests.
"At least I can admit that you're right. You don't exactly communicate very well, you know. Maybe that's what you're worried about—that you won't be able to tell Priscilla any of what you're feeling," he said, picking through his words with deliberate care. It occurred to Raven that each protest he raised seemed to only make it easier for Lucius to talk him into a corner. Still, Raven was a Cornwell, and no Cornwell had ever backed down from a challenge.
"I just don't know if I'll really care when I see her. It's been, what, twelve years? She's basically a stranger."
"You'll work it out," Lucius said with conviction. "Remember when you left to find out more about Ostia all those years ago, and how you bade me to stay behind? You said then that you didn't know what you meant to do, but you worked through it."
"Come on, don't compare us to Priscilla. That was different and you know it," he huffed.
"Different indeed," he replied with a small laugh. "You left swearing blood and flame on Ostia and returned saying that you couldn't imagine living without me. Surprised me half to death, too! All the same, you did work yourself out."
"All right, all right, I believe you. Don't get sentimental on me," Raven said gruffly. Talking about his clumsy confession made him feel more nervous than anything; the months (years?) leading to it, and the struggle with his sexuality, hadn't been pleasant. He had known for a long while that Lucius was into men as well as women, but it hadn't taken the fear out of it.
"It's good that you're focusing on Priscilla instead of Ostia again, in any case," Lucius said.
"Ostia is still a concern. Don't you ever think it's not," he snapped.
Lucius sighed. Before he could reply, though, the waitress returned with their food.
"Thank you very much," Lucius said, flashing that winsome grin of his.
"Thanks," Raven mumbled as well. He emptied a packet of sugar into his coffee and tried to cool his head. Lucius worried at him like a little dog with a bone, constantly shoehorning his dislike of Raven's vendetta into every conversation. He would never understand. He hadn't understood when the two of them waited at the police department for any information, still coughing from the ash they'd inhaled and wincing at their burns mere hours after the firebombing of House Cornwell, and four years of discussing Raven's constant anger hadn't changed that.
He chewed on his breakfast for a few moments. Lucius, in rare form, stayed silent, although he smiled whenever Raven met his eyes.
"I will concede that meeting my sister is presently more important," the redhead said.
"Wisely spoken," Lucius replied, but he didn't press any more. Raven grit his teeth and belatedly folded his napkin in his lap. He didn't want to talk about Ostia, didn't want to think about Ostia, but Lucius had already put the thought in his mind, and he couldn't shake it.
"...So, are we just going to show up at her house, ring the bell, and go from there?" Raven muttered.
"You want me to come with you?" Lucius asked, surprised. "I assumed you'd prefer for me to wait in the car, at least at first."
Raven thought for a moment while he gnawed on a piece of bacon. On the one hand, he didn't want to make Lucius sit in a hot car while he talked with his sister. On the other, it might be a little awkward for the two of them to show up together. Priscilla wasn't even expecting one visitor, after all, let alone two, and the shock of seeing Raven again might be a lot for her to handle.
Still, Raven could use Lucius's calming influence, and they both had dressed up for the occasion.
"Of course. I wouldn't even be out here at all if it weren't for you," Raven said.
His boyfriend beamed.
"That's good. I daresay I'm too curious to wait back, anyway."
"Just don't mention what happened to my house. I don't know if she heard, but she doesn't need to if she hasn't. Cornwell is my ghost to fight," Raven ordered.
Lucius looked like he was about to argue, but he swallowed his words.
"All right. If you think it's best, sir, I'll defer," he said. "May I mention my relation to you?"
"Hm? I suppose. I don't really care one way or the other. Friend, roommate, lover...Do as you will."
"Okay, then. I'll just follow your lead," Lucius replied.
He didn't say anything else for the rest of breakfast, merely staring into space, a dreamy look on his face. Raven, in contrast, stared moodily at his plate. They were only an hour and a half out from Priscilla's house, or so Lucius had said. It was at the same time too long to wait and far too soon to come. Raven wanted to see his sister, or at least he thought so, but Elimine, he didn't want to deal with the inevitable Cornwell discussion. He hoped that by forbidding Lucius from talking about it, he could avoid some of the pain, but Priscilla would surely be curious. She'd want to know about what he'd been up to (living off shitty pay and the last scraps of life insurance), about their parents (their murdered parents), about their home (the home that crumbled around him, as the fire grew)...
Raven was walking home from the cinema with Lucius by his side. They chatted about the plot and the acting until they passed the corner of Sixth and Sussex, when Lucius froze.
"There's smoke coming from our neighborhood," he said.
They traded glances and quickened to a jog. Dread settled in Raven's gut before the two of them even rounded the bend. He felt his heart drop to his boots at the sight that greeted him—his house was a bonfire. Scores of people waited outside, staring silently. Raven grabbed the shoulder of a man he recognized, a heavyset Ostian with a scar down his face.
"Oswin! What the hell is going on?" he demanded.
"Raymond? Thank Elimine you're okay. Someone petrol bombed your house. We've already called the firefighters, but-"
"My parents! Where are my parents?"
Oswin swallowed.
"Inside."
With a snarl, Raven turned and rushed towards his house. Lucius seized him by the arm, but Raven pushed him aside, ignoring how his friend stumbled and hit the ground. Lucius's shouts barely registered over the roar of the fire and the pounding of Raven's boots on the charred hardwood, and in a moment, all Raven could hear was the thudding of his heart in his ears. The flames blocked the stairs and made the halls waver in his vision. Smoke burned his eyes and filled his lungs.
"Mother! Father!" he called. His voice came out weak and unrecognizable to his ears. "Mother-"
He choked on the air and broke down coughing. Raven threw an arm up over his face and staggered down the hall, the embers stinging his skin.
The house creaked menacingly, and one of the door frames collapsed, kicking up splinters and coals. Raven's head swam. He couldn't breathe.
A hand grabbed his wrist, and for a second, his heart soared. But it was Lucius, cinders peppering his clothes and his face screwed up in a grimace.
"We're not going-" he started, but he coughed over his words. "We have to leave, sir!"
Raven wanted to push on, but his body fought him, and Lucius looked a second away from passing out.
"Okay," he croaked, and they stumbled back through the flames. Lucius didn't let go of his wrist until they stepped into the cold night air, when he fell to his knees. Raven knew then that his family was dead. He tried to cry, but it wouldn't come. It felt as if the fire had burned away whatever tears he'd had, leaving him like his house: empty and ruined. He could only manage a syncopated series of coughs and moans.
"We'll be all right, Raymond," Lucius said quietly, tears cutting lines in the soot on his face. "I promise."
"Are you all right, Raven?"
His head snapped up. Raven was suddenly aware that he was breathing heavily. His old burn scars ached, making him rub at his arms, and his heart pounded like a jackhammer.
"...I'm fine. Come on. We should go," he replied, shaking the spectres of Cornwell from his mind.
"...Just remember, you said I could drive. You should just sit back and relax, okay?" Lucius said. He watched Raven worriedly as they both got to their feet, and he scooped the bill off the table before Raven even had the chance.
He waited outside while Lucius paid. Raven thought longingly of the pack of cigarettes in the glove compartment, but he knew what Lucius would say if he went to light one. He climbed into the passenger side as Lucius walked out of the restaurant, his fingers plucking at the hem of his shirt.
"Pass me the keys, please," Lucius said as he slid into the driver's seat. If his voice was anything to go by, he didn't notice anything out of the ordinary, although his blue eyes still lingered a little too long on Raven. He fiddled with the seat for a moment, scooting it forward to accommodate his shorter legs, before revving up the car.
In a minute, the green Etrurian countryside rolled past them. Every now and then, Lucius would ask for directions, but mostly, they drove without speaking, only the ever-present sound of the football announcer on the radio breaking the silence. For once, Raven couldn't pay attention to the game. Miles and minutes alike sped by far too quickly for his tastes. Too soon, they turned off the main thoroughfare and onto a winding road surrounded by cheery deciduous trees. The sunlight slipped through the gaps and dappled the path with gold.
"Quaint," Raven said with a snort.
"I quite like it," Lucius replied. "I was born around these parts, you know, and it's nice to finally see it."
He sounded utterly serene, a small smile on his lips. It grated on Raven, and he almost snapped at Lucius. It wouldn't help either of them, though, so he swallowed his irritation.
They paused at the end of a long ribbon of driveway that lead up to a spacious house. No, "house" wasn't right—it could almost be called a mansion. It looked bigger than even House Cornwell had been, and a pair of sleek new coupes sat parked in the driveway.
Raven and Lucius traded glances.
"Are you sure this is the right place?" the redhead asked.
"Positive. At least it looks like she's doing well for herself, doesn't it?" Lucius replied.
"Yeah," Raven muttered. "...Well, no point in waiting around. Let's do this."
They got out of the car and began the long trudge up the driveway. Lucius clung to his hand, rubbing over the back again and again. All too soon, they stood before the green-painted front door. A little mat read "WELCOME" in bold letters.
Raven lifted his hand, but he froze inches from the door.
What was he doing? Wasting time and money to meet a stranger who would only gawk at Lucius, pry into his personal life, and ask about Cornwell? He didn't owe Priscilla a goddamn thing. What had she ever done for him?
He felt a stab of guilt at the thought, and his brain dug up memories he thought he'd forgotten. Priscilla, walking beside him as he balanced on the edge of the garden fountain. Priscilla, sweetly covering for him when he fought with the neighbor-boys. Priscilla, begging him to promise that he'd never leave. Raven had been nine when he'd sworn that he wouldn't. At twenty-one, was he still beholden to his word?
It suddenly struck him that she was almost all he had left of Cornwell. He had nothing else besides his surname, his father's old wristwatch, and the soft-hearted man by his side. Maybe talking about Cornwell could heal the infected wound in his memory in a way that hunting Ostia hadn't. Raven didn't think it likely, but he would be a coward if he didn't try. He let out a deep breath and drew his courage.
"Ready, sir?" Lucius asked.
Raven nodded resolutely and knocked three times.