Chapter Two

Lavender. Everything smelled of lavender and dust as Lelouch ran his fingers over the top of his mother's keepsake chest. Up in the attic it was too warm and the pressed flowers inside the trunk made the whole room smell of roses, lavender, of all her favorite flowers…

"What are you doing up here?" Schneizel's head popped up through the trapdoor, looking amused and disheveled as he climbed up into the attic proper.

Schneizel never smelled of flowers, he always smelled clean and crisp like fresh laundry, but in Lelouch's dreams-

"That's none of your business," Lelouch murmured back, ignoring the sound of the stairs retracting as Schneizel closed them off from the world. Carefully, so carefully, Lelouch pushed the lid of the trunk up, taking the sudden scent of cedar as a balm to his brother's appearance.

"What's in there?" Schneizel asked, leaning over to look in the chest. His eyes were bright but the rest of him was ruffled, looking tired in his slacks and undershirt, both of them ridiculously, perfectly white.

Perfectly white except for the one bloody handprint that stood out on the back of his shoulder, a boy's-sized hand print.

Schneizel looked up and made eye contact. "What are you hiding, littlest prince?"

Lelouch looked into the chest and it was empty except for two objects.

Lelouch closed the lid very, very slowly, whispering, "Nothing."

Schneizel tried to open the chest again, his large hands tugging at the top, but the lid stayed closed. It locked with a sharp, metallic snap and his brother looked over with an odd, calculating stare before his lips curved into a smile. The weight of those hands on his shoulders was slightly alarming. Lelouch felt so small, but when he tried to pull away Schneizel only brought him closer.

"I want to see what's inside, Lulu," he murmured. "Open it back up."

"No." Lelouch tried to push him away but to little effect. Of all of his brothers he was the only one who hadn't inherited their father's solid frame. He'd been born small and thin with the delicate bone structure of his mother. Sometimes it felt as if the weight of Schneizel's eyes were enough to make him suffocate.

"What are you hiding?" Schneizel whispered into his neck, sending a thrill of something that was almost fear down Lelouch's spine. Almost fear, but not quite as he started to struggle out from beneath his brother's grip.

"What is it?" Schneizel kept whispering while Lelouch was entirely caught in the grip of his embrace, smothering. He couldn't breathe, and the more he struggled the more Schneizel proved that he was bigger, stronger until Lelouch was caught and entirely obscured by his brother's body. He couldn't see anything. The scent of flowers had been replaced by sharp, clean linen, and he was going to die, Lelouch realized, he was going to die in Schneizel's shad-

The day was past noon by three hours and the disastrous mix of napping too long and the heat had changed Lelouch's few moments of rest into something highly unsettling. He pushed his jacket onto the floor and sat up, pulling the knot of his tie until it was loose before slipping back into his shoes with a yawn. A knock on the door should have woken him at one, right after lunch hour.

Kururugi had missed his appointment.

Lelouch sighed deeply, gathered his jacket and fished his cell phone out of the pocket.

He hit speed dial two and the phone was ringing, once, twice, three times… Lelouch was counting the twentieth ring when he was finally answered by a blurry, "ullo?"

Lelouch hung up the phone. The man was alive and would be back the next day, sufficiently guilty about missing their appointment. Kururugi had enough guilt to sink a damn ship and he'd certainly feel the sting of it when he looked through his caller ID. He'd probably even call back to apologize.

Lelouch decided to give him three and a half minutes. One minute to wake up, thirty seconds to realize who had called, forty-five seconds of vacillating between anger, frustration and finally resignation as he sulked. Kururugi wouldn't want to feel guilty, but he would and he'd certainly resent the fact. Lelouch gave him thirty seconds to sigh and feel miserable, ten more seconds to throw off the rasp in his voice, and then estimated that it would take the operator at least thirty-five seconds to figure out who she was supposed to connect him to, and-

"This is Dr. Lamperouge."

"Oh. Hey. Wow." Suzaku still had a raspy timbre in his voice. "It didn't even ring."

Lelouch sat at his chair and let his feet rest in the windowsill, looking into the cloudless sky as he listened to Kururugi's stuttering, embarrassed laugh.

"Um, hello? Are you still there?"

"Yes, Agent Kururugi, I'm still here." Lelouch closed his eyes and kept his inflection painfully even. "What can I do for you?"

There was the ruffling sound of cloth. Kururugi was still in bed then, and there was a long sigh before he gave in to the obvious.

"I missed my appointment," Kururugi said dully.

"You did." Lelouch settled back, relaxing. From the sound of Kururugi's voice, the absence hadn't been deliberate, merely negligence.

"…is it really three?"

"Three fifteen to be exact." Lelouch could imagine the man's scowl.

There were certain people who hated being informed of the obvious, assuming that the other person had thought them too stupid to comprehend, and Suzaku Kururugi was definitely such a specimen. Lelouch could have said, 'The sun is yellow,' and gotten the exact same response. Lelouch found that this was the best way to agitate successful A-type personalities, agent or criminal. And he was still a little pissed about being left alone to a nightmare.

"What the hell do you want?" Kururugi snapped. "And how the hell did you get this number?"

Lelouch grinned. It was just too easy.

"I only wanted to make sure you were alright…" Lelouch made his voice a little soft, just the barest bit higher. "I get concerned when patients abandon their appointments without some kind of warning."

"Oh. Right." Suzaku's voice lowered, the edge sliced clean off by guilt. "Sorry. I guess I slept through my alarm-"

And then the excuse to assuage the guilt-

"-I must have taken too many of those sleeping pills."

Lelouch froze, a violent chill running down his spine as Kururugi murmured, "…Hello?"

"How many did you take?" The game of subtle aggravation evaporated and Lelouch was suddenly moderating his voice out of necessity, trying not to give his panic away as he fixed his tie and threw his coat on.

Lelouch was putting car keys in his pocket when Kururugi murmured, "Um."

He was locking his office door when the man laughed nervously and said, "Well, more than I should have, obviously."

And then to backtrack into less touchy territory-

"But I did sleep really well. No bad dreams or anything… Just like you said."

Lelouch jogged through the hallways, ignoring the stares that followed him and staying silent as he gave Kururugi enough rope to-

"Well, no bad dreams after I took the pills." Kururugi yawned. "I had a nightmare first, and then I realized that I hadn't taken any of those pills…and it was really dark-"

Agent Stadtfeld looked up with wide eyes when Lelouch barged through her closed door, a finger to his lips as he kept listening to Kururugi's rambling explanation. Lelouch grabbed the man lounging against the window by the shoulder and shoved him out of the room, closing and locking the door.

"Accident or not, we still have a bit of a problem, Agent Kururugi." For once Lelouch was having difficulty keeping the emotion out of his voice. He'd been delighted after Kururugi had left the office the day before. At the end of their session the man had looked him in the eye without even a trace of malice, but then he'd gone home and-

"It disturbs me that a grown man wouldn't stop to read the directions on a potentially harmful prescription."

Stadtfeld shot up out of her chair and Lelouch pushed her right back down again, glaring at her for silence and getting it, thank god. The pencil in her hand snapped in half and a high, angry flush spread over her cheekbones as she glared, but she managed to contain her anger and the frantic worry it covered. Lelouch had always liked Kallen. The woman had a fantastic temper and the same merciless resolve Lelouch had so carefully cultivated inside himself, while still managing to save a measure of tenderness for her loved ones… For Suzaku, in this case.

"Have I made an error in trusting that you had the ability to take care of yourself?" Lelouch leaned against her desk, "…Or perhaps, Agent Kururugi, I just made a misjudgment by trusting you at all."

"Look," A note of panic made Lelouch relax a little, "It was seriously just an accident. Yes, I admit being reckless, but I'm not… I didn't…"

"So, basically, you're trying to get me to buy manslaughter, not murder." Lelouch let his anger leak out, but not his worry. "Because recklessness is the distinction that you're presenting me with right now, and it's a very poor excuse. It's very nearly no excuse at all."

"Shit," Suzaku hissed, his voice thick. "You have to believe me… I swear to god, I wasn't trying to…"

His voice trailed off, and Lelouch waited a while before requesting, "Finish your statement, Agent Kururugi. We want to make this official."

"I wasn't trying to kill myself last night," Kururugi finally said, his voice hollow. "It was late, I was scared, and I just wasn't thinking."

Then, to get himself out of trouble-

"It wasn't just a glove dream," Kururugi said, reluctance in every syllable. "It was a dream about my dad. I… I was scared. Really scared."

His voice was small, quiet, just barely even a whisper. Kururugi wasn't lying.

Lelouch tilted the receiver of the phone away and sighed, the panic finally leaving him calm. Stadtfeld calmed too, her hands still fisted and her expression grim, but no longer looking like she wanted to bolt out the door.

"Alright," Lelouch finally said, "But I'm afraid I can't let you keep those pills. I need you to bring them here within the hour. I'll give you one for tonight and hold the rest. Do you agree?"

"Yeah. Look, I'm sorry-"

"I accept your apology," Lelouch said, looking up at the wall clock. "By four thirty, Agent Kururugi."

"What? Wai-"

Lelouch snapped his phone shut.

"The second he leaves my office you stick with him," Lelouch told Stadtfeld, "All night. No exceptions."

Stadtfeld glared and ran a hand through her hair but didn't blush.

"Yeah. Fine. Asshole."

"Thank you."

"Fuck you."

"Save your energy," Lelouch snapped back, grabbing the blond waiting outside the door and shoving him back in, ignoring the squawk of indignation. He walked very methodically back to his office, ignoring the half-sentences and odd looks that followed him on the way. When finally in the office, Lelouch locked the door behind himself and sighed deeply, ripping the tie from his throat.

Then he went to his lower desk drawer and started the weekend early.

"Nii-sama, you're home!" Nunnally met him at the door, smiling with her hands folded on her lap. She was holding two twenty-dollar bills. "I didn't hear the car. I thought you were the delivery man."

"Pizza again?" Lelouch handed his briefcase off to Sayoko and tried to keep his mouth pointed away from his sister.

"No, Milly told me about a Chinese food restaurant she said I should try." Lelouch's heart broke a little when Nunnally took a delicate sniff of the air and said, "Oh, you must have taken the bus home. We could have met you at work, Nii-sama."

"The bus gave me some time to think."

And sober up, but that wasn't something he needed to say out loud. Sayoko took his jacket when he handed it over and shut the door behind him. Keys in the change cup, shoes next to the coat rack, and his tie already stuffed in his pocket… Lelouch was home – exhausted and still a little buzzed, but home.

"Something bad must have happened," Nunnally whispered, holding a hand out. "Can you talk about it, brother?"

Lelouch slipped his hand into hers and gave a small squeeze.

"I made a big mistake," was all he could say, wondering how the hell he had thought it was a good idea to give a suicidal man an entire bottle of sleeping pills. "It was a pretty close call."

"I'm sure you were doing your best, big brother."

Which was ultimately the problem, but the doorbell rang so Lelouch was saved from fabricating a gentle lie. Lelouch opened the door, took a look at who was on the porch and nearly slammed it closed again.

"Chow Mein, Crab Rangoon, Sweet and Sour Pork, Mongolian Beef and Fried Rice?"

"Yes," Nunnally grinned and moved her chair forward. "Will forty dollars be enough?"

"More than enough, Miss." The man handed Lelouch a bag full of food and a letter. "Five dollars too much."

"Then that's your tip!" Nunnally held the money out and Lelouch snatched it out of her hand, pulling in the direction of the man on the porch who didn't bother taking the bills himself. Instead he just smiled, winking with a broad grin, his amber eyes nearly golden in the lamplight.

"Thanks a bunch." Jeremiah Gottwald got down on one knee and bowed under Lelouch's angry stare. "Have a nice night."

Nunnally called back the same and carefully, very carefully, Lelouch closed the door. And when his sister was gone Lelouch made sure it had been locked properly and pushed a chair under the handle.

Only then, feeling the barest measure of safety, he opened up the note-

Sunday at eight. The Hilton. Under the name 'Reginald Charles'.

The weekend was normal as far as Lelouch's weekends were concerned. There was nothing to clean, no laundry to take care of as Sayoko saw to that. There was no lawn to mow, no dog to walk, just Lelouch and his sister dancing around each other as carefully as if they were first dates. Nunnally was growing up, finally, and it made Lelouch uncomfortable because for the first time he didn't know what to do after a plan had gone right. She was dating, she was going to school, and Lelouch, while glad that she was becoming independent, was stuck wondering where his little sister, his constant, had gone.

Lelouch wanted Nunnally to grow up, it was necessary, but he was afraid that one day he would awaken to an empty, echoing house with nothing but his own thoughts as companions.

Despite his best intentions, Lelouch knew he wasn't meant to be alone. What Lelouch thrived on was the potential of interpersonal relationships; he thrived on being smarter, more clever, better than the best the world had to offer. His family… He hated what they were – unrepentant criminals, every one – but he didn't hate the enormous amount of potential that was available among them all. Cornelia, Odysseus, Clovis, even Schneizel… There was a part of himself that begged to be in the midst of these powerful people, a part of him that wouldn't hesitate to stand at his father's right hand and flourish in an empire built on deceit, cruelty and ruthless manipulation.

His family would take him back without even a moment's pause, and really that was the most terrifying part: That maybe he might get lonely enough to let himself be led down to the maw of loving devils just because he didn't understand, or couldn't tolerate anything else.

And it was no secret that Charles had always loved his youngest son best. Even the most pitiful of criminals and most powerful of politicians were aware of his favor, aware that somewhere hidden in their midst was the potential heir, a reluctantly but equally devoted son who might just do anything for his father, who might just destroy their world at the emperor's whim.

Except for Nunnally. Nunnally had always come first, come between him and their family at every turn, and it had undoubtedly made him a better person, but-

"Nii-sama?"

-the power was still at his grasp. Schneizel would fight him tooth and nail for the role of Emperor, but the others would back down with an adequate display of force. No more sitting in an office teasing idiots back into some semblance of efficiency, no more hours of digging up an empathy he despised in others to fix people he hardly knew, and most of all no more answering to some higher authority.

The only thing that stood between Lelouch and the potential of awe-inspiring power was the smile of a fragile, crippled girl.

And that girl was working up the courage to push him away.

"Yes, Nunnally?" Lelouch muted the sound on the news and smiled. "Is there something you need?"

"I'm going out for dinner tonight with Rolo." She smiled in return. "Would you like to come along? He has a sister-"

Lelouch wondered where he'd been when the power balance shifted, and not for the first time he considered that Nunnally might actually pity him.

"A sister," Lelouch repeated duly, dumbstruck. "Have I even met Rolo?"

God, if it wasn't for the serial killers…

"Yes, brother, you have." Nunnally's smile was a little sad then. "He came to my birthday party a few months ago… But you were on that big case, so I suppose it's natural that you don't remember."

"The quiet, mousy-haired kid?" Lelouch remembered vaguely, because, "He was kind of weird, Nunnally."

The young man had a sickly look to him and an odd, strained smile. The only thing that kept Lelouch from chucking him out on the street was the obvious, careful tenderness he had held for Nunnally, as if she were some precious charge left solely in his care. But if the sister was anything like the brother Lelouch knew he'd be hard-pressed to be polite, especially with the mood Jeremiah's letter had put him into. Nunnally didn't say anything, she simply crossed her arms and raised her chin, her version of a raised eyebrow.

"Maybe if you got to know him, Nii-sama-"

Lelouch could only sigh and slouch more deeply into his chair, watching the president inform the nation that everything was alright, really, and please don't look at the man behind the curtain.

"You know, Nunnally, that sounds nice," Lelouch closed his eyes and fought off the mounting headache, "but I really don't think I'm good for much today. You go and have a good time and maybe we'll do dinner next weekend."

Nunnally sighed back in exasperation. "I'm going to hold you to that, Nii-sama. You need to get out more often."

"Of course."

For the first time in a very long time Lelouch just wanted her to go away, to go and have a lovely evening with the weird kid who liked her and just leave him alone.

It hurt in ways he couldn't describe, but Lelouch just breathed easier when Nunnally was finally gone.

"I'm here to see Reginald Charles. He left me a key."

The name came easily but Lelouch didn't risk a smile as the receptionist went through the files on her computer.

"May I see your ID?"

Lelouch had it in hand already and held it up into view. He managed a small smile when she looked up to compare faces, staring a little too long with a slight blush.

"Of course, Mr. Smithson." She handed over the keycard. "Hand this to the man in the elevator. He'll take you up to the executive suite and then you can use this key," a real brass key this time, "To enter the suite. Have a nice night."

"Thank you." Lelouch palmed both keys into his hand and headed towards the elevator. The rules of the game were fairly simple: Be nice, but not overly so, and calm; speak as little as possible but relax as you walk away, hands in your pockets as you stroll casually to the elevator; hand the man in the elevator your key with a small smile and tip generously, but not overly so; then, exit… And walk inside the lion's den just as if it had been your idea to do so, and not as if you'd been summoned. That was the most important rule.

But when Lelouch walked into the suite all of those careful rules just disappeared. They weren't alone but Schneizel's very presence put Lelouch at ease. The possible witnesses, the wait staff and maids, were nothing but what they were, and not the carefully observing eyes that they could be. One thing he could always trust was that Schneizel would be fully capable of handling his surroundings. For a little while Lelouch didn't have to think.

Three strides away from the table Lelouch fell to one knee and bent down low, exposing the back of his neck and hiding his own ironic moue. He rose when Schneizel told him to and took the seat that his brother pulled out, sitting across from each other at a small, carefully plated dinner.

"Does filet mignon suit your taste tonight, or lobster?"

"The meat, I think." Lelouch watched the waiter pour a deep red wine with a small smile.

"Wonderful." Schneizel smiled rather excessively, showing teeth as Lelouch's meal was set before him.

They both watched the rest of the service until they were gone and the room was empty, lit by candelabras at the corners of the room as some soft music played behind. When the staff was gone, they were free to speak as brothers.

The whole city knew Schneizel on sight, knew the protocol that his position demanded, so while the act of abasement hadn't truly been necessary Lelouch hadn't made himself an object of interest by simply walking in and seating himself. It was a necessary act if Lelouch wanted to keep his front intact. After all, he was just Lelouch Lamperouge, psychiatrist extraordinaire, not the eleventh heir to an organization that put the Italian mob to shame.

"Is this family business?"

"A little bit. You're family after all, Lulu." Schneizel took a drink of his wine, his blue eyes bright in comparison to the red. "Why don't you take off your jacket and stay awhile?"

"Of course." Lelouch immediately shrugged off his coat, toed off his shoes, and very nearly undid his tie.

The moment his fingers came up to touch the knot Schneizel shook his head slightly, so Lelouch let it stay and desperately tried not to dwell.

Even in this there were formalities, though not the kind that would ever be seen outside closed doors.

Lelouch left his cufflinks on the table and rolled up his sleeves before taking a small sip of his own drink.

Schneizel was already dressed comfortably, his usual jacket sprawled over a low table with his shoes and a silk tie.

"You look well, Lelouch," Schneizel began to cut his own meat, "But a little troubled, I think. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Work." Lelouch frowned, and turned his face from the stern and slightly angry expression that flit briefly over his brother's face. It was easier to ignore if he didn't have to watch that look immediately shift into something soft, bored. Lelouch had to ignore the shift or he'd get angry too, and he didn't want to chance where that might lead.

"I'm treating a young man who has proven to be somewhat unpredictable," Lelouch said, turning his face to Schneizel's listening stare. "I've been using my usual technique, but-"

"But it looks like it's becoming more personal," Schneizel smirked. "Poor Lulu, whatever will you do?"

Lelouch only shrugged, moving them away from uncharted waters with a bite of excellent food and another small drink of wine.

"What has it been this time, three months?" Schneizel took another bite, locking their eyes as he hummed in satisfaction. "I have someone check on you from time to time… But, you know it's not the same as a visit."

Lelouch bit the inside of his cheek and narrowed his eyes as he leaned forward a little.

"Four months." He tilted his head up, his arms on the table, "And you could have called anytime you liked."

Schneizel raised an eyebrow. "Still trying to get one over, little brother?"

Lelouch didn't answer the question. Instead, he asked, "And how are things going for you? From what I hear business has been going well."

"Business is going very well," Schneizel smirked, looking coldly satisfied. At that moment he looked just like their father and Lelouch had to shrug the thought away, uneasy with the comparison.

And that was the end of subjects that had any actual significance. They ate and spoke of politics, of movies and the weather. Singers, orchestral performances, opera, and recent shows at the art museums. Mostly Lelouch spoke, Schneizel rarely had time for the arts or gossip, but he knew plenty about the politics in DC. They steered away from that as well, eventually, not wanting to disturb the discomfort that was slowly mounting into a thrill after half a glass of wine and Schneizel's all-encompassing gaze. He ate very slowly and Lelouch ate almost nothing at all.

Lelouch watched Schneizel. He watched the way Schneizel was gripping the stem of his wine glass, the way his shoulders would tense slightly and then ease until his body looked loose and drowsy. He watched as the light began to darken in his brother's sharp blue eyes when real emotion began to leak through.

Lelouch didn't know what exactly Schneizel was feeling, but he knew exactly how that look would culminate. He'd been seeing it for years, after all.

Schneizel was on the edge, just waiting for Lelouch to push, to make the first move… But Lelouch would never do that. The man who never had to ask for anything would always have to ask for this, always, if only because Lelouch knew it made him furious to have to do so. Forcing Schneizel to take the initiative was a small but increasingly satisfying revenge.

"Little brother, have you been listening to a word I've said?" Schneizel put his utensils down and leaned forward, his face angled with a smile only Lelouch could claim to have seen.

"Most of it." Lelouch gave him a soft but slightly bland smile in return. "I'm afraid I've found myself distracted by work again."

Schneizel's eyebrows raised and he leaned back into his chair, frowning.

"Work."

"The human mind really is the most fascinating thing," Lelouch murmured earnestly, keeping his eyes wide for some semblance of honesty to show through, "Every day I have these seemingly boring, straight-laced people come through my doors, and every time I'm just a little surprised of what those seemingly respectable patients are capable of doing. It's amazing how severely they can be engrossed in denial, having the oddest sense of morality when they're actually the most appalling-"

Schneizel lurched forward and grabbed a fistful of Lelouch's hair as he grinned sharply, tugged hard, and said, "You came at my call, littlest prince. You've proven yourself a player, but I win. Say it."

Lelouch gasped at another sharp tug as Schneizel pulled him forward, halfway over the table, and only barely repressed a wince. Another tug brought him up onto the table, scattering glasses and plateware, wine and food. They all fell to the carpet without a thought to the mess. His scalp stung as Schneizel stared him down, his teeth exposed in a scowl that made a little part of Lelouch smile in satisfaction.

Lelouch leaned forward slightly until his lips were very nearly touching Schneizel's ear.

He whispered, "You've proven yourself a player, older brother," And Lelouch smiled, because it was true behind locked doors and they both knew it, "…But I win."

Because it had only been four months and an hour but Schneizel already had his pants unzipped and Lelouch thrown to the floor. Lelouch wanted the night but Schneizel needed it, needed to lift Lelouch to his knees by the tie around his throat and press Lelouch's face against his cock, already hard and leaking.

Schneizel hissed when Lelouch laughed mockingly against his stomach, angry, so angry, and then groaned when Lelouch looked up and took his brother's cock into his mouth.

I win, Lelouch thought as he swallowed, pulled off and swallowed again. I win.

"Hey, are you alright?" Kururugi leaned forward with a frown. "You look like you got hit by a truck."

Dark circles under his eyes, slightly bruised lips, the uncomfortable shifting that came with a sharp, very localized pain in the ass, all combined with the effect a black turtleneck did to his complexion… Kururugi wasn't saying anything Lelouch didn't already know, and the man himself looked disgustingly bright with his wide green eyes and healthy, tanned skin. No, that was wrong. Lelouch sighed. Kururugi looked wonderfully bright and oddly happy and all the things Lelouch could have hoped for after a two-day absence.

"I had a late night." Lelouch shrugged, tapping his pen on the clean white pad of paper. There was something infinitely satisfying about marking the first page of a new pad and it always calmed Lelouch down a little as Kururugi immediately looked at the pad with that slightly ill, cornered expression that was just as infinitely amusing.

"No, seriously, did you get in a fight with someone?" Kururugi continued, not letting those few taps change the subject as they were intended to. Stubborn. "You're all stiff, too, and you're favoring your left side-"

"Agent Kururugi," Lelouch interrupted, raising an eyebrow, "I'll ask you not to examine me too closely. It's a bit unsettling."

Moreso that Kururugi seemed to be adopting some sort of protective stance as his eyes narrowed and he leaned forward, as if he were just waiting for an opportunity to strip Lelouch down and confirm his suspicions. Kururugi's eyebrow rose, and he adopted a bit of humor and a half formed smile as he drawled, "Why, are you hiding something?"

"Other than my body, which I routinely cover in clothing?" Lelouch gave him a look. "Not particularly… So please, cease and desist with the personal remarks. It's unbecoming."

"Unnerving, you mean," Kururugi murmured with a keen eye, and the honest tenor of his voice. He knew that Lelouch was disconcerted as a truth and not simply a childish comeback. How Kururugi knew… If Lelouch hadn't been unsettled before, he was certainly on his way.

Schneizel would never know, but sometimes when Lelouch won, he won too. Most of the time Schneizel's win manifested in a deep melancholy, a fixation with the past and how Lelouch had come to be in the place he was, but the last few times it had been different.

Lelouch would wake alone in a nest of stained linen and wonder if he was letting Schneizel take too much, if he was letting his brother leech him away when he allowed Schneizel to gorge on his body. Soft platitudes aside, Lelouch had started to wake up less than what he was before.

And the dream-

"Hey," Kururugi's voice was soft, and he was leaning over with dark, wholly troubled eyes, "Doctor Lamperouge… Really, I mean it. Are you alright?"

This time he wasn't playing keep away with the session, this time the agent was serious, his mouth falling open a little in a mixture of astonishment and concern, leaning forward until he was almost entirely off the couch. His hand rose and at that moment Lelouch knew no greater terror than the possibility that Suzaku Kururugi might touch him.

Kururugi's hand jerked back as if he'd been burned and his eyes widened and widened as he watched Lelouch in wonder. Lelouch watched Kururugi realize that under his title and authority there was still a human being and felt absolutely no comfort in the man's sudden epiphany.

Schneizel had been accurate, it was time to make an emotional connection, it was necessary even. He had to establish solid ground between them and a painstaking measure of careful intimacy would have to be the solution. Kururugi was unpredictable and needed to be grounded, settled in one place so that Lelouch could get at him long enough to make real progress.

The fact that Suzaku was beginning to add up his reactions and come to the truth of his problem, or the assumed truth, (It was assumed, because it wasn't like that with Schneizel, it had never been) had nothing to do with Lelouch's hasty magic act of replacing one horrible truth with another in a blink of downcast, misty eyes.

"If you must know, yesterday was the anniversary of my mother's death." Lelouch didn't have to pretend that the words were sharp in his throat, like glass. "I distracted myself by going to the gym and I'm paying for it today."

And god, thank god, that tiny sliver of horror in Kururugi's face was gone, replaced almost instantly by guilty remorse. He'd gotten nosy and pushed too far. Either way, the fact that the result of the falsehood fit into Lelouch's plans was negligible, and the lie even more dismissible.

Lelouch didn't know the date of his mother's death, no one would tell him, and he only knew that it had been spring and beautiful outside when she was gunned down in her parlor. He could still remember the scent of her favorite flowers as they were crushed beneath the feet of the paramedics, the way one of her pale hands had slid off beneath the lumpy cover of the gurney, and the way Nunnally had been screaming in pain and terror, but he couldn't remember the date.

"Oh, god." Kururugi went pale. "I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have-"

Lelouch smiled and waved away the man's embarrassment and worry with a gesture.

"Let's get back to what we're here for, shall we?"

And for once Kururugi listened to him and answered his questions and prompts without prevarication or animosity; he was honest and sincere. Still, Lelouch couldn't ignore that the man's sudden cooperation stemmed from the guilt and embarrassment that followed Lelouch's lie.

Lelouch had the grace to spend the session talking about nothing at all.

What Lelouch wanted was Kururugi's bare truths but he refused to buy those truths with his mother's death. It was just that simple.

And consciously Lelouch refused to think about how Schneizel's brand of affection had forced him to have to make that that kind of decision at all.

Four months and two days and this time Lelouch couldn't get the evening out of his mind. He found himself at work with his eyes downcast on his notepad thinking about how Schneizel's hands had felt on his cock as a certain agent rambled on and on about his cheating wife. He had large, strong hands and there was always a moment, usually right before Lelouch was about to come, that he was sure that Schneizel would squeeze too hard just because he could.

Lelouch bit his lip and thought about those hands, how they had wrapped around his chest and just lifted him bodily, how they had wrapped around his thighs and hips. Schneizel liked to be face to face, wouldn't do it otherwise, and Lelouch was always forced to oblige. Lelouch had thrown his head back and vocalized each grip of pleasure and terror because he knew that was what Schneizel wanted to witness, to live and memorize.

Schneizel wanted to see his cold little brother lose every scrap of dignity and control, to see how his eyes began to tear when he just shoved Lelouch down on his cock after four months of celibacy. Face to face, their chests sliding against each other, Lelouch still had enough presence to see that Schneizel was barely breathing. Even as his hands gripped tighter and tighter, even as Lelouch's pain suddenly became pleasure, even as his cock finally started to harden against Schneizel's abdomen. Even then Schneizel had just watched with his harsh blue eyes. It had taken Lelouch's hands in his thick blond hair, their mouths pressed together and open so that Schneizel could inhale his cries of desperate craving for his brother to finally remember himself.

Only then did Schneizel let the monster out, unleashing the forbidden lust and anger as he slammed in again and again until Lelouch was screaming and putting bloody furrows into Schneizel's back as he tried and failed to grasp for some sliver of control. He lost it all when Schneizel took a handful of his hair and looked into Lelouch's eyes with a ravenous, predatory stare. Schneizel's hand had finally reached down-

There wasn't too much to remember after that. Schneizel would only work towards his own completion when Lelouch was slumped against him in a boneless embrace, only barely conscious enough to whimper as his hips were forced down on Schneizel's cock again and -

"Have you ever considered separating from her?" Lelouch broke through his patient's rambling monologue. The agent looked at him with wide eyes and an open mouth. He'd never considered getting rid of her for even a moment, Lelouch knew, because the man didn't really believe his wife was cheating on him. When he spoke of her infidelities he scratched his neck, made absolute eye contact at all times, barely blinking, and well…verbally, he was just a bad liar. His speech patterns shifted wildly and his expressions were clown-like, exaggerated.

"U-uh, well," he stuttered, and then suddenly pounded a fist on his leg. "Of course I have! Of course-"

"Have you considered telling her that you're gay?"

The man paled, looking hollow and grey as he pulled his limbs in close and stared like Lelouch was some demon. Maybe he was right, because it was just so easy to pluck that expression out of a soul and every time he did it, Lelouch wanted to do it again.

Maybe he was a demon… But he wasn't a devil, not yet.

"No one else has noticed," Lelouch assured him, smiling, "And I'm certainly not going to say anything. I don't care who you want to fuck, Agent Bradley, my only interest is the betterment of your life. Do you trust me on that, at least?"

Lelouch gave him a sympathetic smile, one he had learned from Nunnally, and the wild cornered expression faded into something like calm, still scared and stressed, but calm. Bradley nodded slightly and blotted the sweat from his face with his tie.

"Good," Lelouch smiled and wrote a quick note, offering it forward into the man's shaking hands.

Lelouch feeling full up of fire and spite smiled softly, and said-

"Either way I expect you'll need a good divorce lawyer."

Then as he watched the man go, clutching the paper to his chest, Lelouch thought, 'At least his sessions will start to be more interesting'.

And they were.

Lavender. The attic was warm and bright and smelled of his mother's favorite flowers. She had shown them to him once. Nunnally had only been a baby at the time and she had been cradled in his mother's arms, gurgling with laughter. Lelouch had held the album and opened the large, dusty book with great care. At the time it had felt enormous, but the truth was that Lelouch had just been very small.

Lelouch had turned the pages at her instruction, leaning his cheek into her soft, lovely hair as she told them the story of each painstakingly pressed blossom. At the time Lelouch hadn't been surprised that most of the flowers had come from his father, the bright ones in particular. There had been tri-colored roses of pink and gold and butter-yellow, white chrysanthemums, lilacs and tulips and baby's breath. Lelouch had leaned forward and taken the same fresh blossoms from the most recent bouquet to tickle them against Nunnally's mouth. She'd been delighted and his mother had smiled the smile Lelouch loved best.

Over in the doorway, standing tall, large and untouchable as a god, Charles had smiled too.

It was only after his mother's death that Lelouch wondered why the man had even bothered, but still… Charles was still a god to Lelouch, no matter how much he tried not to believe.

None of Charles' other children had ever felt that way, none of the other children had thought to bow low to their father and ask for him to bless their house. The other children had never felt that all-encompassing hand warm and solid on their head, their face, their shoulder and felt exalted. And of the other children, out of all of the dozens of them, not a single one had ever inherited the lavender eyes of their master.

Lelouch had said, "I want to be like you."

Charles had asked, "When you grow up?"

"No." The word had seemed to make the man's eyes darken and shine, Lelouch's father had been… Not pleased, but satisfied. Deeply satisfied.

And he had palmed Lelouch's neck with closed-lipped smile when Lelouch answered as seriously as a young boy could, and he'd been a strange boy even at the beginning so he had felt a deep echo in his soul when he said-

"No. Right now." Lelouch had looked up without a single wavering glance. "I want to be a god right now."

And now he was alone in an attic, in an old, recurring dream that had somehow altered after fourteen years.

There was no Schneizel, and Lelouch had grown-up hands, not the small grasp of a child. Lelouch was himself, crouched down, kneeling in front of his mother's keepsake chest and looking inside with the eyes of a man.

Fourteen years later those carefully pressed flowers were missing and inside, in their place, were two white gloves.

And when he woke from the dream, terror racing through his every limb, his heart pounding wildly, Lelouch could almost convince himself not to be afraid.

Then, finally awake and fully aware of the irony, Lelouch bolted to the bathroom to swallow a glass of freezing water and take an extra little white pill. Twice. He laid in bed afterwards, thinking about Schneizel's vicious self-satisfied smirk as he looked at himself in the bathroom mirror, unaware of Lelouch's eyes as he silently reveled in his own dominant victory, in the fact that he had gotten away with the forbidden yet again to his own infinite satisfaction.

Lelouch thought of how Schneizel had finally turned towards him and flinched back in surprise, looking every inch a guilty man caught in the act. He thought about how Schneizel's hand had fisted, obviously and desperately wanting to take Lelouch down yet again… and then a rueful smile as he looked at Lelouch's bruised and naked body.

Schneizel had approached him then, bestowing a tender kiss to Lelouch's forehead before bending him over and fucking him against the counter, watching Lelouch's helpless pain and climax in that same bathroom mirror with the same amused smile. And in the very end his brother had looked down at Lelouch, collapsed and gasping for air on the ground, and very nearly left him there on the cold tile, but there were rules. Instead Schneizel took him to bed, holding Lelouch gently as he bestowed soft kisses and incomprehensible murmurs until Lelouch slipped into sleep.

Then Lelouch thought about Suzaku's honest, worried green eyes and wondered what it would have felt like if Lelouch had let the man expose the bruise on his cheek, hidden by the shadow of his hair. He wondered if Suzaku's fingers would feel rough against his skin, or if he was too gentle for that, too good.

Lelouch fell asleep realizing that no one had ever looked at him with such concern, not even his father. And also that he wouldn't really mind looking into those frighteningly emotive green eyes again.

Of all the patients Lelouch had treated once joining the FBI, he had the most empathy for Suzaku Kururugi. Of course there were dozens who had sad stories: rape; molestation; abandonment; abuse… If Lelouch wasn't looking at photos of murder scenes or avoiding blood puddles, he was listening to someone's secrets – their most horrible thoughts, actions, or their fears. It was difficult to really like someone or even become friends under those conditions, but Suzaku was different somehow. Something about the loyalty of his companions, his demeanor, and all the little things Lelouch had overheard when others were speaking of the man made him stand out. Lelouch was hard-pressed not to spend a good amount of time wondering why.

Lelouch had been warning Suzaku of what was coming for five sessions before saying, "You told me you had a dream about your father."

Kururugi went pale instead of angry, which was a good sign, but he didn't seem able to open his mouth and actually speak, which was worse than a tantrum. He'd read through the police report multiple times searching for some clue that the incident might have some hidden shadow, some secret tucked within the pages. But, after hours and hours of searching, Kururugi was still the only clue.

"Yeah…" Suzaku's eyes drifted down to the carpet, his hand moving slightly towards the pillow at the right. Lelouch watched as he decided not to pull it closer, his green eyes sharpening for a moment to glare at it before pulling his hand back and staring at the floor again. Lelouch bit the inside of his cheek as Suzaku's empty hand fisted and wondered when the man had realized that he was using the pillow as a comfort object during intense sessions.

Lelouch took the reach and retreat as evidence that Kururugi had been thinking over their sessions and reviewing his own responses as instructed.

"Are you going to make me ask?" Lelouch murmured, tapping the pad of paper with the end of his pen. The soft, but solid sound of the two meeting was enough to make Suzaku's eyes glance upward again, but he still refused to make eye contact. His fingers dug into the couch and Lelouch nearly sighed.

"I…" Suzaku grimaced and bit down hard on his lower lip but it didn't stop the tears from welling as he hunched over and inhaled one long, stuttering breath.

"Goddamn it." He wiped at his eyes with his sleeve, trembling. "I can't stop fucking crying over this…"

Wait for it, Lelouch reminded himself, you have to wait. Platitudes would come easily at such a confession; there were so many things he could say, or had said before, but the last thing Kururugi needed was some sort of balm so early in the proceedings. Confession either eased the soul or tore it apart. With Suzaku, Lelouch could only wait and try to stem the blood flow. The fact that he wanted to do otherwise was slightly disconcerting in its incongruity. He found himself staring at the bared slope of Suzaku's neck in an uneasy shift of attention as the man finally took a handful of tissues from the box on the table by his side.

Suzaku wiped his face, very carefully put the tissues down and looked up with wet, red-rimmed eyes.

"I was sitting at the table doing homework in the kitchen, and my father came in, yelling," Suzaku murmured, his voice harsh, but soft, "And I thought 'If he hits me one more time, I'll kill him'."

Deep inside himself, Lelouch smiled.

"And he saw it," Suzaku whispered, fat tears sliding from his eyes. "He spent his whole life putting away criminals… And the look on his face, it wasn't like before."

Suzaku looked down with one great, heaving sigh that left his entire body sagging and loose as his eyes moved towards the floor in… Was it shame or regret? Lelouch couldn't tell, though he strongly suspected a mixture of the two, an emotion very close to despair.

"He'd usually smack me around, call me names, and then go finish his bottle of… whatever." Suzaku slouched back in his seat, but didn't lift his eyes. "But he'd just gotten home, completely sober. I found out later that my principal had called him at work because I'd gotten in a fight during homeroom. So the one time he actually had a reason to…"

Lelouch looked into green eyes and decided that, yes, the look was despair.

"There is no earthly reason that would make the abuse of a child a legitimate exercise of anger." Lelouch took the pause as an opportunity to provide a measure of reality and comfort. "Do you understand?"

Suzaku only looked away again.

Lelouch didn't sigh, and asked, "What happened next?"

"He backhanded me out of the chair and kicked me across the floor." Suzaku's voice had matured into a dull robotic tone. "He didn't say a single word the entire time except to tell me to get up… And every time I tried to, he'd kick me again until I didn't try anymore. I'm pretty sure I passed out."

Suzaku took a deep breath and wiped at his eyes again.

"My dream was about the second part when my dad came back to the kitchen. I was just standing back up when I noticed him in the doorway. He started walking forward, holding a beer bottle in his hand like a bat… And when I grabbed a knife out of the butcher's block he smiled."

Suzaku laughed a horrible, hollow noise and raised his head to stare out the window.

"If he knew who I had been hanging out with at recess I don't think he would have laughed. By that time I knew how to use a knife."

Lelouch kept his surprise firmly battened down and nodded slightly in encouragement.

"He broke the bottle on my head," Suzaku said, "And I used every ounce of strength I had left to put that knife straight through his chest."

Closing his eyes, Suzaku laughed, a short bark of sound. "He looked really surprised and for some reason it made me angry. I tried to pull the knife out of his chest but he managed to slap my hand away. I just grabbed another knife. In the dream I got the first knife out and all his insides-"

The visualization was gruesome and Lelouch could fully sympathize with Suzaku's pale-faced, disgusted shudder.

"…I didn't need the second knife," Suzaku finished. "He collapsed backwards and died. I really only remember that… That he was dead on the kitchen floor. The next thing I knew there were EMTs asking if I was alright and police asking me what the man who killed my father looked like."

After nearly five minutes of silence Suzaku looked up with an alarming, sweet smile.

"Everything you'd hoped for, Doc?"

Holding his inhale Lelouch looked Suzaku in the eye and dropped his pad of paper to the side. Everything he'd hoped for? Yes, yes it was, and he wanted more. He wanted to discover how Suzaku could say these things and smile. He simply wanted more. He knew one way to get what he wanted and it was somewhat of a happy coincidence that Lelouch didn't mind kneeling down at Suzaku's feet, didn't mind nodding slightly, and he didn't mind that though he opened his arms it was Suzaku who moved forward first.

Lelouch Lamperouge put a hand in Suzaku hair and hugged him close enough to feel every ragged breath as after two decades, Suzaku finally, truly wept.

I love you, Lelouch wanted to say, because he did. It wasn't a romantic love, not even close, but after a week and a few days, Lelouch had learned to love Suzaku Kururugi. He wasn't nearly as worried as he knew he ought to be. Loving Suzaku felt right, just as loving Nunnally felt right.

The only shame for Lelouch was that he couldn't say the sentiment out loud no matter how much Suzaku deserved to hear it. Lelouch could only hold him close, embrace him without reservation, and hope that such a bare comfort might soothe the man's heart from guilt, grief, and despair.

When Suzaku finally slipped into sleep, Lelouch's shoulder was wet with tears. His knees ached, but honestly, truly…

Lelouch had never felt so at peace as he did while guarding Suzaku's dreams.