Acceptance

bySoledad

A "Pathways in the Dark" story

Part 17 of "The Toreador Chronicles". Follows "Roots and Doubts".

For disclaimer and background information see the Introduction.

Rating: 14+, just to be on the safe side. Mostly for language and slightly disturbing topics.

Author's note: The Toreador vampires of LA are recurring characters of the "Pathways" universe. Their names are borrowed from canon, but I turned them into somewhat different characters.

Summary: At the urging of Velvet Vellour, Alain has a serious talk with Michael, to set some things straight – with mixed results. Brian prepares to be presented to the Clan Elders, when Michael gets a phone call from Pittsburgh.

The shooting went well, and while Michael enjoyed being on set – especially as they allowed him to try in practice a lot of things he'd learned in his courses in theory – he wasn't really needed there. Brett could always reach him when small alterations in dialogue were needed, but since they were both devoted to the project, it never took much time. So he spent his days alternating between the UCLA and his office in the Vignes Studios, and many of his evenings in the Asp Hole. From Brian, he still didn't see much, and Emmett, too, had made himself scarce lately. As content as he was with his new career, Michael was lonely – and he hated it.

Sure, there were the short, casual affairs with certain studio people or the regulars of the Asp Hole. He got to know other clubs, too, so he never lacked company. But Brian was painfully absent from his life, which was the biggest disappointment and the fact he hated most in the life in LA.

It wasn't that he'd want to go back to The Pitts – even though he did call his mother almost every day and the distance seemed to do their relationship a great deal of good. He exchanged e-mails with the lezzies and Ted almost as frequently, and with the guy he'd hired to run the store on a weekly basis. So he was well-informed about what was going on back home… and felt no indication to return there. He liked LA and his new life. He just hated Brian's absence from it.

And he hated Alain for making Brian need things that Michael couldn't provide. He hated that fact so much that he secretly began looking for an apartment of his own. The whole situation had become too painful for him. If his hopes were to remain unfulfilled, at least he didn't want to watch other people getting what he couldn't have. Never again. The whole affair of Justin had taught him that.

He'd consulted his lawyers, Navital & Waters, who also represented some of the largest real estate agencies in town, and had already seen two passable apartments in the Marina area – the waterside held great attraction for him – when Alain unexpectedly visited him in his office.

"I've heard that you've looking for new accommodations," the artist said without preamble. "Are you serious about it?"

Michael nodded. He didn't ask where Alain knew it from – his business associates seemed to be a close-knit group, they were usually well-informed about each other's affairs.

"I've outstayed your hospitality," he said. "Besides, the whole… situation is awkward. I'd be better off on my own."

"I agree," Alain said. Michael gave him a scornful look.

"Somehow I thought you would," he grumbled.

"Not for the reason you might think," Alain replied. "To tell you the truth, I strongly opposed to Brian's taking you in at this time. The timing couldn't have been worse."

"Oh, really?" Michael asked. "And why is that?"

"Are you aware of the… nature of Brian's relationship with me?" Alain asked back.

Michael shrugged. "I know the two of you are deep into some kinky stuff."

"No," Alain said, "that's just the manifestation. "We're building up a relationship of dominance and submission, based on bondage and discipline. He does this voluntarily, because he needs it. I never forced anything upon him. And this won't keep him from anyone else he wants to be with – the least from you."

"That's not what I've been seeing so far," Michael riposted.

"Of course not," Alain said. "You've arrived too early. For such a relationship to work, the… the neonate has to go through intensive training. It's often unpleasant, and it takes time. You've dropped in when Brian was barely in the middle of it, and returning to Pittsburgh had set him back for weeks. But in about a week or two, his training will be finished, and he'll be free again to pick up your friendship where it was left."

"And what if I wanted more than just his friendship?" Michael asked quietly.

Alain shrugged. "It's not my business. You'll have to work out the parameters between the two of you."

"You'll let him?" Michael was honestly surprised; and very suspicious. Alain laughed.

"I don't own him; nobody can own a man like Brian, unless they killed him and kept his ashes in a sealed jar. Besides, your claim is the older one. He might give me his body, but he's given his heart and soul into your safekeeping when you were both fourteen. Nobody can come up against that and win – the least me."

"Your hold on him seems tight enough to me," Michael replied, still not quite believing in the peace offering.

"It is," Alain agreed, "and he needs it. When he came to LA last year, he was on the verge of self-destruct. Drugs, booze, clubbing… you know the routine. He nearly got killed once – and that changed his view on things. He was finally willing to accept help."

"By entering an abusive relationship?" Michael asked angrily. "Forgive me, but I think he'd had enough of that while growing up. I was the one who had to put him together whenever he couldn't endure that fucked-up family of his and fled to our house. I treated his cuts and bruises, 'cause he wouldn't suffer anyone else to touch him, not even my mother, so don't try to make me believe that he'd want to be beaten up now."

"I don't 'beat him up'," Alain said patiently. "The relationship between master and disciple is a complex one, and I don't blame you for not understanding it. One has to be part of it to realize what it's all about. Neither am I trying to 'make you believe' anything. I just wanted to tell you why Brian has been so absent lately, and that his absence won't last much longer."

"But you'd still like to get rid of me, wouldn't you?" Michael asked.

"No," Alain replied. "You're welcome in my house as long as you want to stay. If you weren't, I'd have never let Brian take you in. I just think that it would be better for you – for both of you – if you had your own, independent home. But ultimately, it's your decision to make. Whatever you decide, I'll respect it."

With that, he rose and left Michael's office.

"You've taken a great risk by going to him," Phillipe Navital commented several hours later in the D'Oblique, where Alain and he were having their semi-regular business meeting. "What if he decides to stay? Brian won't be able to fake mortal lifestyle much longer, especially when they'll start spending more time together again. Once he's been presented to the Conclave, he'll have to go Hunting on his own, to build his own contacts within Kindred society – and Michel knows him too well to be fooled forever."

"It doesn't have to be forever," Alain replied. "I intend to bring Michael over to our side, as soon as possible."

"Which is decidedly not now," Phillipe warned him seriously. "He's not ready to learn about our existence yet, and won't be for a while. You should separate him from Brian, for his own safety, and that soon."

"I can't force them apart," Alain said. "Brian would follow him, and he'd make mistakes. Foolish, dangerous mistakes. He's not strong enough to force the underbelly of LA alone. Not yet, not while he'd have to protect a mortal, too."

"When are you presenting him to the Conclave?" Phillipe asked.

"During the next official meeting; in two weeks' time," Alain said. "Victor wants a presentation to the Clan first, though. He's going to present Emmett as Edward Blount's Childe at the same time."

"Is that wise?" Phillipe asked doubtfully. He was one of the very few people who knew about the true circumstances of Emmett's turning.

Alain shrugged. "I don't see any problems. He needs to be presented, so that everyone knew he's a Toreador (even if he's not), and only Victor, the Blounts and the two of us know the truth. And the Prince, of course, but he's promised Emmett his protection."

"And Brian," Alain added grimly, "since Emmett couldn't keep his loose mouth shut."

"Fortunately, Brian can," Alain said. "I've explained him the situation. He's used to look after his friends; and Emmett is one of his friends, as unlikely as it might seem."

"Hmmm…" Phillipe let his analytical lawyer's brain work on the facts for a while. "If I understand correctly, Emmett's also a friend of Michael's, right?"

"Actually, he's always been more Michael's friend than Brian's," Alain replied. "The two even used to be room-mates for a while, back in Pittsburgh, and apparently, it worked well enough. Why?"

"Perhaps the arrangement would work again – as a temporary solution," Phillipe suggested.

Alain raised a sceptical eyebrow. "You'd trust Emmett around Michael but not Brian?"

"They're friends," Phillipe answered. "Just friends, plain and simple, without any underlying sexual tension. Michael desperately needs a friend right now, and I don't think that either Ash Rivers or Velvet Vellour would be the right ones to fill that gap. Emmett's eccentric but not a fool… and he's very loyal. We should give it a try, unless you want Michael to leave town – which would not be a good idea, for various reasons, not all of which have anything to do with Brian."

"Perhaps," Alain allowed. "But how are we going to bring them under the same roof again? Because I doubt that Michael would appreciate any suggestions coming from me."

Phillipe grinned. "I don't blame him. But he'd accept suggestions from me, as I'm his lawyer. Besides, he's already turned to us to find the right place for him. I'll consult the Blounts and Emmett, and we'll work out a plan."

The talk with Alain had strengthened Michael's decision to move out of the artist's house and into an apartment of his own. However, his efforts were cut short by another urgent phone call from Pittsburgh. This time it wasn't devastating news, but still worrisome a bit. It looked like his and Melanie's baby would be born some weeks earlier than expected, and if he wanted to be there at the birth, he needed to board the first possible plane.

The thought not to go didn't even occur to him, so the only remaining questions were when and with whom. Brian wanted to go with him, of course, but this time Alain was adamant in his refusal.

"Remember what I told you about Clan politics," he said warningly. "You're about to meet the Clan Elders next Thursday. If you don't appear, you won't have a chance to be accepted. Can you guarantee that the child will be born before than and that you'd be back in time?"

"Of course not," Brian scowled. "But Mikey was there when my son was born, and I was so fucking depressed that I'd have jumped off the hospital roof without him. I owe him not to let him face the same experience alone."

"He won't go alone," Alain said. "Emmett will go with him. It's taken care of."

"So, Emmett is allowed to go, but I'm not?" Brian asked. "What kind of brilliant plot would that be?"

"Emmett's training has been finished last month," Alain explained calmly, "and he's already been introduced to the Clan Elders. They've accepted him, so all he needs is the Prince's approval – a formality, as Angelus had allowed him to live right after his Embrace. Which means, he can afford to leave town, as long as he gets back for the next Conclave meeting. You can't."

Brian was just about to explode, but Alain stopped him before he could start it.

"Brian. Don't. This is not up to debate. You'll stay. Period. Either voluntarily, or in chains in the basement. Your choice."

"You gotta be kidding!" Brian thought he hadn't heard right.

"Not at all," Alain replied coolly. "You're a stubborn fool, and I usually let you get away with a lot. But not this time. I will chain you down in the basement if I have to. In any case, you won't leave town before your presentation, and that's final. Get used to the thought, because nothing's gonna change it."

Brian was furious, but there was nothing he could do about it. He was sure that Sarina and Peppone – and whomever else Alain might employ in this scheme – would conspire with his Sire to keep him restricted, had he tried to escape. Besides, deep within he knew that Alain was right. He needed to make the best possible impression at his presentation if he wanted to be granted an unlife to begin with. In his current status, the Prince or the Conclave could still order his destruction – in theory, at last. And while he was reasonably sure that Alain wouldn't kill him, no matter what the Conclave decided, the outlook of living on the flight for the next couple of centuries didn't really have any attraction for him. He required power, money and his creature comfort. So he chose to shut up and obey.

Needless to say that Michael was bitterly disappointed by the perspective of revisiting Pittsburgh and facing their old crowd – not to mention his mother – without Brian. Even though Emmett's presence comforted him greatly.

"I hate this, Em," he complained, while boarding the night plane to The Pitts. "Doesn't he know I've only come here because of him?"

"Of course he knows, sweetie," Emmett tried to placate him. "And trust me; he did want to come with you. Sarina says, he and Alain fought about the issue viciously. She has good ears, you know…"

"But he still gave in," Michael accused bitterly.

"He had no choice," Emmett said. Michael gave him a weird look.

"What does it mean he had no choice?" he demanded. "Em, is there something you're not telling me?"

"Several somethings, in fact," Emmett confessed willingly. "They'll tell you all about it, when the time's right; it's not for me to discuss any of this. But please believe me as your friend when I tell you this: there is something Brian needs to get done within a short time. But there's someone – the only one – whom he needs, and that's you."

"Yeah, sure…"

"No, Michael," Emmett said very seriously. "I'm not making this up, and you know it. You're his lifeline. And should you be thinking of staying in Pittsburgh, you should also take into consideration that he'd not survive your leaving. Now less than any other time."

Michael shook his head. "This is ridiculous."

"No, it's not," Emmett was still deadly serious. "Michael, if you ever trusted me, do so now. I'm telling you that Brian has arrived to one of the most important crossroads of his life – and whatever choices he's gonna make, he'll need you. More than ever before. You've been on his side for so long – don't leave him now."

"Since when have you become Brian's advocate?" Michael asked, his irritation obvious.

"Not his," Emmett said. "Yours. In a very short time, you'll be able to get what you've been longing for all your life – or, at least, for the last twenty years – don't screw it now. You're so very close; please, please, have just a little more patience."

He spoke with such unusual and grave intensity that Michael – who'd half made up his mind to return to Pittsburgh already – became uncertain about it again.

"All right," he finally said. "I'm willing to sit out this one crisis yet. But not another one after that. Never again."

Like all important events related to the Camarilla, Brian's presentation was scheduled to take place in the Conclave room above the D'Oblique. After all, this had been once the domain of Don Sebastian, the Toreador Prince of LA. His domain, his design (pompous and old-fashioned) and the centre of his power – until the Anarch Revolt, during which he'd gotten killed and diablerized by Salvador Garcia. From that time on, LA had been a Free Anarch State. Cyrus' short princedom couldn't change that, and the current Prince, a former Anarch himself, had chosen to respect the status quo.

"What the fuck is diablerie anyway?" Brian asked, checking his appearance in the large mirror. He was wearing his best Armani suit for the occasion, firstly because he preferred Armani, and secondly because wearing a Girard creation would seem like sucking up to the Primogen and antagonize the opposition. Besides, it would be a cheap move, and Brian Kinney didn't do cheap.

"Something you shouldn't even consider," Alain replied. "It means to drain a fellow Kindred until he or she dies in your hands. I would make you absorb your victim's powers, their very essence. This is a Sabbat practice, and it's punished by Final Death in these days."

"But it could make someone really strong, couldn't it?" Brian asked.

"Which is exactly why it's forbidden," Alain said. "Can you imagine the kind of monster a serial diabolist would become? Growing in strength after each new victim? Even the Sabbat are wary of such people and try to get rid of them, had they grown too strong. They're not safe for anyone."

"And you guys still tolerate Garcia, even do business with him?" Brian frowned.

"Salvador is not a serial diabolist," Alain replied. "As far as we know, he only did it twice. Once during the Spanish Civil War, to revenge his Sire, and then with Don Sebastian, in 1944. The Anarch Revolt was a violent time; many people did horrible things they'd never do under normal circumstances."

"You too?" Brian asked carefully. His Sire never spoke about those years, was probably still mourning his murdered Childer.

Alain nodded. "Once, back in the sixteenth century. To make sure that the murderer of my Sire was utterly destroyed. But I didn't absorb his essence… I wouldn't want that with me for eternity. I simply watched him bleed to death and combust. Now, are you quite done? We need to hurry up. The Elders have a thing for punctuality."

"Who's gonna be there, other than Victor?" Brian asked, trying not to be nervous – and failing.

"In theory, everyone up to Ancilla Blood – that is, up to the 8th generation – is entitled to take part in the presentation of a new Clan member," Alain replied. "That means Lorena, Rebecca Lowell's Sire, with Rebecca and probably her other Childer, if any of them are still alive; then Joaquin Murietta, an LAPD detective of the 6th generation and your buddy Diego, who's Joaquin Childe. I assume Isaac Abrams would be there, as he has great influence among the Anarch side of our Clan. Edward Blount, although of Young Blood, will be allowed to participate due to his position – and of course, Christopher, should he choose to appear."

"Why wouldn't he?" Brian asked. "And who's he anyway?"

"Christopher Houghton is – was – the Sire of Don Sebastian, and he's the Sire of Joaquin Murietta," Alain explained. "He's almost as old as I am, near four hundred, and what's more, he's of Ancient Blood – 5th generation. He would be an incredibly powerful Kindred, a true monster and the unchallenged king of this city, had he not been Embraced at the age of thirteen. Having the body of a teenaged boy forever makes him vulnerable, despite his age and Kindred powers, and a liability for the whole Clan. During Cyrus' princedom of terror, he was held hostage for the rest of the Clan to behave."

"And you folks did behave, for such a brat?" Brian asked incredulously. Teenagers, even mortal teenagers, were a plague. A four-hundred-year-old teenaged monster must have been magnitudes worse. In Brian's opinion, the Clan should have been happy to let him killed by the self-proclaimed Brujah Prince.

"Watch your tongue!" Alain warned him. "Christopher only looks like a kid. He's got four centuries to hone his survival skills. He's clever, ruthless and generally vengeful towards the rest of the world, so be very, very careful around him. He'll hate you at first sight, for what you are, just because he never got the chance to become someone like you."

"How influential is he anyway?" Brian didn't like the perspective at all. Alain shrugged.

"Hard to tell. Aside from Lorena, everyone else is Don Sebastian's progeny, which theoretically should put them into the same league as Christopher. However, Isaac hated Don Sebastian, so he probably wouldn't support his grand-Sire in anything. Lorena would oppose Victor for Rebecca's sake in almost everything, while Joaquin Murietta, a very conservative Kindred, might support Christopher out of old-fashioned loyalty, although he personally likes and respects Victor. It's really complicated."

"No shit!" Brian growled. "Do you think I'd have a snowball's chance in Hell to be accepted?"

"Of course you do, don't be paranoid," Alain said. "Thy might hate each other on multiple levels, but they won't break the law. The Camarilla types have nor reason – or excuse – to reject you, and Isaac likes you. The only uncertain factor is Lorena, because of Rebecca, but she'll be in the minority."

Brian didn't find the chances too promising. But he had to go through this, no matter what. And he'd be damned if he was to show any fear while facing these blood-sucking relics of times long gone.

"All right, then," he said, taking a deep breath. "Let's go. I'm as ready as I ever will be."

The return to Pittsburgh – even though only temporarily – was a strange thing for Michael. On the one hand, everything seemed more real to him, now that he was back in his familiar surroundings – he'd missed them like someone would miss a pair of well-worn, ugly but comfortable pair of shoes. On the other hand, things weren't quite the same as they had been earlier.

For starters, he was staying in Brian's loft now. Granted, with Emmett as his room-mate, which, again, was a pleasantly familiar situation. But the loft without Brian was an empty shell – and he felt the pain of its emptiness almost physically. Not the loft alone, in fact; the whole town seemed empty without Brian's vibrant presence.

Emmett used the chance to visit Babylon again and meet the seemingly endless crowd of his ex-lowers, with whom – unlike Brian with his tricks – he'd kept a friendly contact. Michael, however, didn't feel like clubbing at all. Neither Woody's, not Babylon was the same without Brian, which was a brand new experience. When Brian had first left for LA, Ben had still been alive and demanded Michael's full attention, so he'd barely had any time to miss his friend. He felt the loss twofold now.

"Brian was right," he said to Emmett glumly. "I am pathetic."

"No, sweetie," Emmett replied, making a pirouette in front of the large mirror in his shimmering, translucent shirt. "You're in love. And so is Brian, even if he's too stupid to admit it. Yours is the greatest love story never told."

"I wouldn't say never," Michael said slowly. Emmett stopped mid-pirouette, his mouth hanging literally open.

"He has? Sweetie, why haven't you…."

"Because it wasn't what you think," Michael replied tiredly. "You know him; he keeps everything that counts to himself."

"He does love you, you know that," Emmett said. Michael nodded.

"Yeah. Always has, always will. But being in love with me… I don't know. And even if he is – I'm not sure I could deal with it right now. Which is why I'll be moving out of Alain's house, as soon as we're back in LA: I need distance."

"Good for you!" Emmett nodded in agreement. "You need to sort your feelings out, after Ben having died and stuff. Still, I don't think that being totally alone would be the best idea."

"Neither do I," Michael admitted. "In fact, I hate the idea of being alone, but what else can I do? It's better than staying at Alain's."

"Perhaps," Emmett agreed. "What about moving together with an old room-mate, though?"

"I thought you stayed with the Blounts," Michael said in surprise.

"I do," Emmett replied, "and I like them, I really do. But they're cramping my style – they're just too old-fashioned for a tropical flower like myself," he added, grinning, and Michael had to laugh, too, because it was just too true. He had to deal with Edward Blount in movie-related issues, and he couldn't imagine how the producer and Emmett survived under the same roof. Aside from the sex, of course.

"Besides," Emmett added lightly, "I fell like being more… independent again, and I've made enough cash to finally afford an apartment of my own. Well, half an apartment."

Michael thought about the idea for a moment. Actually, living with Emmett had always worked well for him. A single guy couldn't wish for a better room-mate. And he was single now, wasn't he?"

"All right," he said, "I guess it could work again. Just you and me, like in old times."

"Wonderful!" Emmett said excitedly. "You'll see, we're gonna have a grand time! Well, I've gotta go. See you in the morning?"

"I certainly hope so," Michael said with a tired sigh. "I'm gonna see my mother tomorrow, and I sure as hell could use some support for that."

Emmett bent his arm and showed his biceps. "See that? Your personal bodyguard, always willing and ready."

"Yeah, the question is just willing and ready for what?" Michael laughed, feeling a hundred per cent better, just from being with Emmett again. "No, be gone and have fun. I'll try to have a good night's sleep before entering the den of the lioness."

TBC