Things were different when they'd returned to the bedroom after dinner and their gazebo escapade. Charlie had obviously assumed Du'met would just dump him down on the bed and lock the door on his way out but that didn't happen. Du'Met didn't even try to leave, instead, he slowly started to remove his clothes and neatly folded them on the night stand furthest from the door. Charlie, unsure of what else to do, simply watched as each new layer was shed with confusion until Du'Met was entirely naked save for his mask – an amusing sight if he'd not been a deadly serial killer. If he was perfectly honest with himself he had to admit seeing Du'Met so … relaxed was rather nice. He was a broad and tall man, not a bodybuilder by any stretch of the word but still toned and strong to a level unusual for his age. Charlie had seen him naked once before when he'd been in the shower and just like then Charlie had to admit Du'Met ticked every box for Charlie's physical type. What had shocked him most was that Charlie had started to find the person underneath the murderer attractive as well.

Du'Met stalked across the room until he reached Charlie so he could undress him. Each movement as calm and calculated as every other of his actions.

In a way Charlie felt like one of Du'Met's animatronics – had Du'Met been like this when he'd dressed Charlie's copy for dinner? The tie came loose with a swoosh and was tossed it down top of the garment box which had been sat on the armchair by the bathroom door. The suit jacket and waistcoat followed soon after and Charlie was left with his shirt hanging open before a man who'd repeatedly tried to kill him. Charlie's brain was all over the place, he didn't know what he felt now, if he hated Du'Met or felt something … else. He didn't know and frankly he didn't care and that was what had the blond stretch up to kiss Du'Met's lips softly, a loving display Charlie had shocked himself with.

With all that dominant power in Du'Met's strong arms it wasn't any surprise that the shove Du'Met gave him knocked Charlie down flat onto the bed, but before he could push himself up on his elbows, Du'Met had settled under the covers with him.

Charlie swallowed. "What are- em. What are we doing?"

The blond's brow furrowed deeply as the masked man silently tucked him in; the whole situation was awkward but he didn't argue and just let Du'Met do as he pleased. Didn't – didn't couples do this not … whatever Charlie and Du'Met were. Charlie's blue eyes shot open wide as his brain screamed out 'wait, are we a couple?!' No, that was all totally ridiculous and totally out the realm of possibility.

Charlie jarred out of his internal mumblings then when Du'Met placed his mask down on his night stand with his clothes. His mask, Du'Met had taken his mask off. Granthem Du'Met had taken his fucking mask off! For almost a full ten seconds Charlie fought the urge to look at his bare face. 'Am I allowed to do that? Can I do that? Can I look at him?'. He'd removed the Holmes mask so casually and that was actually more shocking than anything else. Charlie was sat in bed with a man who'd killed so many innocent people, would glancing at his face be the straw that broke the camel's back? However, if that was what finally got his throat slit at least Charlie would die knowing what his executioner looked like. So, after a moment to steady his heart rate, Charlie turned his head and finally saw Du'Met's face. His breath caught in his throat. Du'Met was handsome, had a defined jawline and dark eyes of ebony. Handsome, strong, broad and taller than Charlie in that way that left him dominated. Charlie had always preferred a guy who was bigger than him, he'd been scrawny as a younger man so they'd been easy to track down, but as he'd gotten older and put on a bit of muscle himself, they'd been fewer and fewer. Charlie sighed internally, he wasn't that baby-faced little twink any longer.

"I- I can see your face." The words poured out of Charlie's mouth almost idiotically and Du'Met just nodded. "I can see your face."

Then he was shoved to rest his head against the pillows and the lights were put out before Du'Met rolled onto his side. Du'Met might have been ready to get some sleep but Charlie's brain hurtled through questions, thoughts and suspicions as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. How many people had seen Du'Met's face? Surely he had to show his face to people when he left the island, he'd obviously not be able to wear it without arousing too many questions. Back when he'd still been Hector Munday he would have people seeing him, speaking to him, every day. Then it dawned on him, this was a reward, Charlie had earned Du'Met's trust enough that the disguise, the character, wasn't needed any longer. Something inside the director fluttered. He wasn't just a pet, Du'Met actually trusted him. Or perhaps Charlie had just over-thought the whole situation and it was simply that Du'Met wasn't deranged enough to sleep in his H. H. Holmes mask. Then there was the whole sleeping bit of Charlie's internal freak out, all the time he'd been locked in the bedroom at the second hotel Charlie had slept alone. Of course he knew he'd essentially moved into Du'Met's bedroom but he'd just sort of assumed the killer had bedded down in one of the other numerous rooms; Du'Met's steamer trunk of clothes hadn't shown up in the bedroom after all. Yet Charlie supposed it reasonable that a man would want to sleep in his own damn bed – unless it was Charlie's bed, the one back at his apartment had been a concrete slab of a mattress, which was probably why he'd crashed at his desk most of the time. In all honesty the bed in his prison cell was the nicest, comfiest place he'd slept in years.

The urge to say something, to fill the void, to make some sort of comment, flooded back to Charlie. He'd always been a talker, as a child it had been good for him since he'd been quick-witted too, but as a teen and adult it had done more bad than good, gotten him into trouble and angered people. However, before he'd been able to say a word, Du'Met, without cracking a single eye open, rolled onto his back, grabbed Charlie's head and forced it down onto Du'Met's chest. He wanted Charlie to sleep and it wouldn't hurt to let him feel cared about for a little while longer. The killer hadn't ever been an affectionate person but many people let their dogs sleep in bed with them.

Charlie would have liked to have gotten some rest, his legs were still a little weak and a good meal always made Charlie tired, but how could he sleep when he was essentially cuddled up to a calculated murderer? Du'Met didn't seem to think Charlie would get the idea to attempt killing him and, when he paused to think about it, he didn't want to kill Du'Met and … it was pleasant to be held by somebody.

"Goodnight," he muttered simply because he needed to say something.

Du'Met didn't respond but his heartbeat soothed the blond to sleep.

~X~

When Charlie awoke he rested on one elbow and rubbed his eyes to banish the last of his sleepiness away, but the thing that really woke Charlie up was the fact that the door was wide open. Wide open! Charlie could see straight out into the control hub. The door was fucking open and Du'Met wasn't anywhere to be seen. To say he felt unnerved would have been an understatement. He didn't take his eyes from the door as he patted around for his glasses and slipped them on, almost as if he'd expected the door to magically close if he looked away.

Last night captor and captive had spent the night together, and no matter what that Kate voice in the back of his brain said, Charlie had actually slept rather well. When he'd first arrived he'd felt like a prisoner but, bizarrely, Charlie now felt at least somewhat cared for. He shouldn't have wanted Du'Met but that didn't seem to have stopped him doing so anyway.

Slowly, suspiciously really, Charlie slipped out of bed and quietly threw on a pair of pyjama pants before he oh so slowly approached the open doorway because surely Du'Met was watching. Du'Met was always watching. For a few moments he stared at the threshold judgmentally as though it were the portal to another real, but ultimately it was just an open door. Beyond the whirring of a few electronics fans no sounds came from the nerve centre and frankly Charlie found that wary.

"This is a test, right?" Yeah, it had to be a test, he refused to believe a man such as Du'Met would be forgetful enough to leave a hostage's door open. "Totally a test."

Not quite brave enough to step over the threshold, Charlie poked his head out since he doubted there would be a trap ready to knock his head off; that would have been an anticlimactic way to go after everything that had happened between them recently.

Out in the control room nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary, or at least what Charlie assumed wasn't out of the ordinary. Du'Met still wasn't anywhere to be seen but Charlie didn't trust that he wasn't lurking. Charlie had found himself between a rock and an angry serial killer. The door had been open for a reason and that reason could have only been one of two things; but the stay put like a good boy reason seemed far more likely than the one saying he had free rein of the hotel. Yeah, Charlie opted to play it safe and be a good little puppy.

The blond cleared his throat. "Mister Du'Met, sir?" He called out because surely he'd passed this test by staying in the bedroom, though no answer came and those fans continued to whirr. "Du'Met!?" He called out again, this time louder.

Perhaps he'd not passed the test, fucking hell there may not have even been a test. No, Charlie wouldn't play this game, he'd get dressed and wait for Du'Met to lose interest and show himself. Mind made up, Charlie went to the closet but instead of his normal clothes he found the closet entirely filled with new suits. He removed a bottle-green one skeptically and lifted an eyebrow. It was too small to be one of Du'Met's and honestly he didn't seem like the sort to wear a bottle-green suit.

"Wait, are these for me?"

He quickly checked the label on the suit jacket's inner and sure enough it read Gentleman Hashimoto-Vyrden just as the garment box had. Each and every other suit had the same tailor's name and when Charlie consulted the dresser he discovered it had new shirts, ties, underwear and suspenders in it rather than Charlie's few original garments. Yes, they were for Charlie, Du'Met had given him a whole new wardrobe and smuggled it all into the closet while Charlie slept like some kind of murder-y Santa. The Englishman didn't want to think about it any further so he quickly dressed in the bottle-green suit, but he was Charlie not Du'Met no matter the amount of fancy suits he had now, so Charlie threw on his lucky hat as well.

Yet again Charlie looked at the door, maybe he was meant to go out? 'Or he's playing the fucking long game with me', he sighed and grabbed his lovely new watch. 10:02, Du'Met had probably been up for hours and Charlie was surprised he'd snoozed so late. The watch was flipped over then to show the 'My Phoenix' engraving. A phoenix, was that truly how the older man saw him? Though Charlie had escaped that fiery death trap so it seemed a fairly apt description. The watch, the suits, the dinner, letting him outside, the holding him while they slept; did all of that honestly mean Du'Met cared about him in his own strange way? Could he maybe be … loved? Just a little bit loved? After all the door was open and Charlie hadn't been drugged or cuffed to anything.

Still a little uncertain Charlie approached the threshold again so he could poke his head out. It was significantly brighter in the nerve centre than anywhere else in the hotel and the scent of coffee wafted to him gently, post-it notes were stuck in various places such as on walls and filing cabinets and a desk on the other side of the room reminded Charlie of his own when he'd been researching for his show. Suddenly a shuffling sound caught his attention and the blond's eyes snapped to the upper level where he spotted Du'Met leant against the railing with a perfect view of the bedroom door and Charlie. God, he'd probably been there the entire time to watch Charlie sift through scenarios and see what he'd do; just leant there like a gargoyle on a church. He'd been right, Du'Met was always watching.

The two stared at one another a moment, in fact almost ten seconds passed before Charlie realized Du'Met hadn't donned his mask. 'No mask is going to be a regular thing then' said his mind. Du'Met curled a finger at Charlie ordering him up to the next level and Charlie obeyed with hardly any hesitation, it was as though a forcefield had given way and Charlie was soon up the gray concrete staircase to Du'Met's who'd moved to a large control panel.

"Em, morning." He greeted and Du'Met hummed in acknowledgement.

Blue eyes stared at the array of cameras on the screen, of the lobby, the restaurant, a strange room with a set of cylindrical tanks in them and a whole host of other rooms, though some rooms looked more death-y than others. Most were static cameras but some rolled back and forth and even those were at odd angles. After long enough of just staring at them Charlie felt that need to talk that anxiety caused. Talking was a nervous habit for Charlie, words just poured out uncontrollably, but since Du'Met had come into his life Charlie had learned to rein himself in a bit.

"You should move those if you want better shots. You'd get some more effective shots too if you had cameras low." Charlie hadn't meant to be quite so blunt but he'd said it now. "You know, if you want. Not my cameras."

Du'Met glanced from the younger man to the screens then back to Charlie as though assessing something and Charlie hoped he hadn't said the wrong thing because he'd literally just got some privileges. He'd been with Du'Met long enough to learn not to interrupt when the older man was thinking but whatever he'd been mulling over must have concluded quickly because Du'Met yanked Charlie to him by his tie to capture his lips for a kiss that Charlie found himself melting into. Then, as quickly as it had all begun Du'Met just walked away. For a moment Charlie peered around at how much tech Du'Met had gathered for his games, an excessive and slightly impressive and intimidating quantity. When Du'Met did something he didn't do it half-heartedly.

Suddenly a notepad was pushed into Charlie's eyeline and what it said caused Charlie to lift an eyebrow because surely the cunning murderer couldn't have been serious.

"Em – 'Use the radio and tell me where to move them.' Huh? I mean, they're your cameras, I don't want to intrude or anything. You like things a specific way, I get that, I'm the same. You know, don't want folk coming in and fucking up your system just because they think they know better and all. But-"

A strong, gloved hand clamped down over Charie's mouth then, he'd been doing it again, his waterfall style of talking where words just poured out without any sign of end. For a second Du'Met's eyes were dark and Charlie gulped, but then homicidal thoughts drained away and the hand was removed so he could point again to the notepad Charlie had just read aloud.

"You sure?" Asked the blond quietly.

Du'Met nodded, pointed to the radios sat in their charging dock and then just walked away with only a pause to tap one of the many buttons on the control panel, which seemed to release one of the magnetic door locks, and grab his mask so the cameras didn't see his face. And just like that Charlie was alone in Du'Met's murder castle control room. Alone in the control room, did that mean he could block the killer in some dimly-lit corner of the hotel and make a break for it, lock him in one of his own traps or at least separate them. Although, Charlie didn't know how to use half of this shit: Jamie would have known.

"Nope, not going to risk that, not when he just started to, I don't know, be nice to me."

The director was somewhat unsure of what had decided to go on in Du'Met's brain but then the man himself appeared on one of the cameras with an old-fashioned wooden ladder in his strong arms. The room was fairly dark but then light flooded what turned out to be a tunnel entrance reminiscent of creepy Nazi tunnels or those from early 19th century hospitals that had been used to transport the dead. The ladder was set up and Du'Met climbed to the top so his masked face was right in front of the camera. After a few seconds of nothing Du'Met made a gesturing motion at the camera fully aware Charlie could see him and the blond took the hint.

"Oh yeah, right." He grabbed one of the radios from the charging dock and spoke into it. "Sorry. Em, a little to the left. No -no, sorry, I mean my left, your right." Charlie saw Du'Met sigh before he adjusted the camera again. "Up a bit. Yeah, that's a great angle 'cause you can see the whole room."

Mark had a damn good eye, he was a fantastic cameraman and even better photographer, but Charlie knew how to set up a good shot too. He might never have gotten his big break but he wasn't a bad director when his crew acted their age and did as he fucking told them.

The camera adjustments went on for a while since the hotel literally had dozens of them but after about forty-five minutes Charlie had settled back into his normal leadership role. He was genuinely happy because directing was what he knew best despite what Kate thought. For Charlie it may have felt like old times but he suspected Du'Met had only allowed this because two sets of hands were better than one and all that.

A lightbulb flickered on inside Charlie's mind then. Du'Met would never stop killing and any attempts to force him to stop would only result in Charlie's own death. Charlie also knew he couldn't escape Du'Met and his second murder castle. Hell, who knew if he had a third one just waiting in the wings. However, Charlie had a new-found freedom and the things Du'Met had made him feel – Charlie didn't want to escape any longer and that realization should have bothered him far more than it had. Granthem Du'Met, Hector Munday, whatever name he wanted to use, the man had done horrible things to innocent people, but sleeping beside the older man had felt rather nice and it had made him feel oddly safe. That lightbulb flickered again because maybe this was the big break he'd searched for over twenty years in the States. Du'Met had all these cameras and didn't seem to mind Charlie's input. Charlie had always longed to make something meaningful, something striking and powerful, something that stopped people in their tracks. The Architects of Murder had just been a boring documentary reporting facts anyone with half a brain could have googled, but, with Du'Met's camera system, he would be able to make a blow-by-blow. A masterpiece! Finally he had the chance to create something truly worthy of his vision. Oh yes, a masterpiece. Charlie found himself stood a little taller as pride flooded him. He straightened his lucky hat and got back to work excitedly.

~X~

6 Months Later

Charlie watched as a group of thee ran through the hotel's halls, they weren't an issue, Du'Met was dealing with them by pushing them toward one of his many traps. One of the group was already dead having triggered Du'Met's latest ingenious invention which electrified the floor and the only woman amongst them – Sarah, according to Du'Met's research – had been locked down in the maintenance tunnels under the castle. She used her cell as a flashlight and jumped at every drip of water and even her own footsteps.

Just last week Charlie had installed the lovely night vision cameras Du'Met had gifted him with after he'd suggested an upgrade about a month back. In the beginning Charlie had only mentioned things here and there because he couldn't take the quietudes that often stretched between them awkwardly, but Du'Met had seemed to genuinely listen and take note of Charlie's ideas, and, quite often, those ideas would turn to reality fairly quickly.

The blond smiled slightly, the footage was perfect and would look brilliant once he'd edited everything together. Sure he wasn't Mark or Jamie, but this was Charlie's masterpiece not theirs. Sarah shuffled through the tunnels like a frightened rabbit and Charlie watched quietly while he sipped his coffee from the control room. Researching had taken Du'Met ages, and frankly Charlie had admired his dedication, but now they were actually in the hotel Charlie had found he'd missed directing much more than he'd thought. Du'Met did his thing while Charlie recorded everything in the exact way he wanted, not some jumped-up presenter who'd caked herself in foundation and insisted she knew everything.

The nerve centre had, over the months, become more Charlie's area than Du'Met's; in fact half the time Charlie mentally termed it the 'director's suite'. It was his space now whether Du'Met had actually wanted that or not. Regardless Du'Met had the whole hotel and all the traps to spring, he could give up the cameras to Charlie surely.

He took a sip of his black coffee. "Come on, a little faster now, love." Charlie sighed deeply before he placed his mug back down. "Trigger the animatronic at the end already. Du'Met did spend so long working on it."

This was Du'Met's first group since he'd murdered the McAndrews and his tester prey, since then he'd just been focused on perfecting his traps and getting as much of the castle up and running as he could. It wasn't exactly clear precisely when Charlie had stopped caring about the fact people died in the murder castle. At first he'd been somewhat reluctant but the lure of directing such raw material had overwhelmed Charlie to the point he didn't even think of them as real people any longer. Dissociating, that was how Charlie had firmly separated himself from the fact he was recording people being hunted down and murdered. Seeing people through a screen had desensitized him completely. Charlie was behind the camera away from the death as if he were just watching a movie, though being borderline narcissistic had made adjusting to his new role rather surprisingly easy. Charlie had the chance to film as he pleased and Du'Met provided Charlie with all the attention and companionship he needed while Charlie did the same for Du'Met. If one was being perfectly truthful though, as long as Charlie wasn't in danger he didn't actually care what happened to those around him, hadn't when the crew had gathered for dinner in the first murder castle and didn't now.

Suddenly the woman triggered the animatronic at the end of the dark maintenance tunnel, it jumped out and screamed at her. Sarah flattened herself against the cold, dusty wall while she continued to scream and scream and fucking scream.

Charlie chuckled. "Oh it's better than Halloween down there."

A door on the lower level clicked shut then and the blond heard Du'Met climb the stairs, each step heavy and spaced evenly until he was directly behind the younger man. Since he'd been granted freedom Du'Met had essentially let Charlie wander where he pleased fully aware that Du'Met would track him down if he decided to run. Charlie cast the killer a glance, his bowler hat was on as was his trademark mask, and a little blood had partly dried on his apron.

"Did you shove two of them into your water tank trap?" Du'Met nodded. "Where's the third?"

Just like every other time Du'Met said nothing, instead he held up two fingers than added a third so Charlie knew to flick to camera twenty-three. He did so just in time to see one of the men, Jerome if Charlie remembered correctly, pass by slowly. Du'Met stepped toward the control panel and Charlie tried not to shudder at the imposing sexiness he gave off. A gloved finger pushed one of the blue buttons and instantly a door before Jerome popped open with an alarming squeak. Both killer and director watched as Jerome eyed the dark staircase suspiciously before he finally descended it.

"Are you really sending him down to the freezer? That's the same trap you used on me." Had Charlie just felt a spark of … jealousy? No, nope, that was ridiculous and Charlie refused to think about it. So what if Jerome was fifteen years younger than Charlie and had an ass to be proud of. No, he'd just cover up the moment and move on. "Not getting rid of me, are you?"

Du'Met's eyes twitched to the blond. Frankly he thought Charlie's concerns adorable, but his phoenix had nothing to worry about, by this point Du'Met knew Charlie belonged by his side so he'd not dispose of the younger man any time soon. All that said, it was still amusing to watch Charlie fret. His boy needed some reassurance though and Du'Met had a spare minute in between kills, so he pushed his mask up just a touch then leant in to kiss Charlie who hummed happily. 'Silly little puppydog' muttered Du'Met's mind. When they broke apart Du'Met took a moment to stare into those lovely blue orbs before he righted his mask again.

"The girl, em, Sarah." Began Charlie as he tried to act as though Du'Met didn't make him weak at the knees. "She's still in the tunnels. Seems your latest animatronic was a success, her reaction was priceless. Are you sure you want to let her outside though? The rain is really coming down out there and I might not get the best footage."

The serial killer just nodded because he had a plan, he always had a plan. As if to prove that he poked another button and the water tank flashed onto the screen. The two trapped men didn't have long left to decide who lived and who died and Charlie had made a silent bet with himself about an hour ago as to which one drowned. The two men had been spouting insults at one another since they'd arrived but now lives were in jeopardy and Du'Met wanted to know just how deep all that hate actually ran; even Charlie could see that abhorring feeling was to the core so it was no surprise when Asshole A chose to press the button and let Asshole B die.

Together Charlie and Du'Met watched Asshole B's last moments; watched as he thrashed around frantically; watched as his body forced him to gulp down air; watched as Asshole A was released and realized the monster he'd become. The expression of horror was just precious and Charlie knew it would be perfect for his documentary.

Charlie caught Du'Met's gloved hand in his own. "I'm going to edit some of the footage."

With that the director wandered away while Du'Met watched him subreptitiously out the corner of his murderous eye. He'd always known Charlie's narcissism and utter desperation for loving human contact would speed his submissiveness up nicely but the Brit truly had exceeded even Du'Met's expectations. A surprised Du'Met wasn't something that happened often, but Charlie Lonnit just kept doing it and the killer found that refreshing. A phoenix, Charlie really was his phoenix. If asked directly Charlie would have likely denied he was a dark soul capable of killing but Du'Met knew just how uncaring about others Charlie could be when it suited him. Only by living with Charlie had Du'Met seen just how many sociopathic tendencies Charlie actually displayed: impulsive, quick to respond to anger with more anger, highly Machiavellian and had a need to control those around him. Truly the only major sociopathic tendency Charlie hadn't displayed was a propensity for physical violence. Yes, Charlie was a delightfully twisted man and Du'Met enjoyed seeing just how twisted he could get.

The masked murderer couldn't stand there all day thinking fondly of his pet though, he had work to do and people to hunt and that was exactly what he'd do. With a roll of his shoulders Du'Met turned his attention to Jerome as he searched around the freezer. When Du'Met had lured Charlie down there he'd planned on burning him alive, but Jerome wouldn't suffer the same fate, instead he'd suffer an arguably worse one because if he wasn't smart Jerome would find himself buried alive. Jerome wouldn't be smart though, so Du'Met slowly left the control room to see the show. Asshole A would stumble around the hotel soaking wet in despair for a while until Du'Met was done with Jerome and Sarah would trip motion sensors here and then so they'd easily keep track of her. Sarah being outside wouldn't be an issue, you know, unless she caught a cold. Yes, Sarah and Asshole A would be the ones to stain his blade crimson.