Despite their optimism about Vincent's work situation, however, it soon became clear that it wasn't the radical change that Greg had hoped it would be.
Being a per-diem 'consultant' for the company meant that Vincent would get odd calls at random times during the day or night, and he'd seal himself in a modified bubble-head charm for these conversations with a mute apology to Greg.
That didn't bother Greg that much. What worried him was when Vincent would pick up and leave, in the middle of the night, responding to one of these calls to go see what was happening, wherever in the world his organization was working. He'd apparate from the kitchen at practically a moment's notice. It got to the point where Greg felt a pang of nausea whenever Vincent's cellphone rang.
At first, the situation was tolerable, though, and Greg felt like he had no right to complain. Vincent seemed to keep himself clean, not getting directly involved in the conflicts at the other side of his apparation. And he was paid enormous sums of money for the privilege of going off to war. He gloated over this, and told Greg that he was making more as a part-time consultant than he'd been making as a full-time contractor.
"And," he said happily, bouncing Melanie on his lap, "I get to spend more time with the most important people in the world to me."
Greg had to say, he'd gotten everything he wanted out of the situation, but that didn't mean his unease was lifted.
Soon the other shoe dropped, as Greg had expected. Slowly, Vincent's calls began to end in more and more blood. He'd always get patched up by the company physician before returning home, but his injuries were often deep, and serious, and he'd often be called away again before he was completely done healing.
Vincent's work life had merely mutated into a different kind of beast, and Greg didn't like it one bit.
Each time he came home, Greg cared for his injuries, showered him with tempting treats to help him get his strength back up, and then, when Vincent was in a replete and benevolent mood, Greg would beg Vincent to never go away again.
At first Vincent refused to even consider the notion, but as the year went on, his view seemed to soften.
The key to this was Melanie, in truth. Once she began to vocalize better, Greg trained her quickly to join him in his efforts of persuasion.
Vincent knew how to deflect and dismiss Greg's worrywort attitude. He was completely at a loss to argue when he looked into the chubby face of his two-year-old as she said, eyes wide, "Daddy stay home. No leave."
And only then did Vincent begin to promise that this next time was going to be the last time.
Of course, when he said it, he meant it. But then when the call came, and he tried to turn down the request, there was something in him that couldn't quite deny his employer.
He really didn't mean to cause the pain and worry that filled Greg's face each time he picked up and left, and he swore up and down that he was going to stop going out on missions.
Hurting Greg was hard. But challenge his desire to serve, to remedy all the mistakes he'd made in his youth by joining the Death Eaters, to make the world better with his job… that was so much harder.
