After Charlie's birthday Du'Met had gone through another flurry of activity as he made plans and plotted. Du'Met had promised them a break but it was apparently over now and Charlie regretted not making the older man agree to a certain period of time: he'd keep it in mind for the future since it wasn't like he'd leave any time soon.
At first Charlie couldn't have cared less about his lover's research or who he prepared to kidnap as long as he got to record their deaths. He'd once told Erin 'the truth is the star' and there was no greater truth than death. Frankly Charlie was still flying high on the faith and praise his birthday present had given him, that knife kept snugly on his belt at all times. However, soon Charlie started to notice that there was much more focus to Du'Met's research than usual and that was when he went from not caring less to genuinely curious, that was what had Charlie quietly shuffle over to the research desk and flip his lover's folder open. The blond gasped in shock, he stumbled backward automatically only to slam into Du'Met's strong chest. He'd been caught in flagrante delicto and just gaped up at his lover as a multitude of thoughts hurtled around his mind.
"… Why?" Du'Met's head tilted to the side in that way it always did when he was confused or had a question. "Why, Granthem?" With a small sigh, Du'Met rounded the blond, grabbed a notepad, started to jot down an explanation that Charlie read quickly. "For me? You want to bring my team back and hunt them again … for me?"
Du'Met just slammed a finger down on the section where he'd written 'they betrayed you' while Charlie's mind continued stumble over itself. He could see the huge internal debate his phoenix was having with himself but had no intention of cancelling his plans. Nobody had ever escaped him before the staff of Lonnit Entertainment and Du'Met felt he had a score to settle. He wanted them dead, he wanted to watch their luck run out, he wanted revenge for getting off the island. All that said, it wasn't just selfish reasons; the crew had betrayed Charlie and left him behind to die, sure he'd set Erin up to think Charlie complicit but that was beside the point. The Englishman wanted to be with the killer, wanted to stay with him, film his documentaries and Du'Met wanted to see just how dark his phoenix could become. The crew stood in the way of all that, as long as they lived, even if Charlie never saw them again, they'd linger in his mind and split his allegiances. Du'Met wanted revenge, yes, but he also wanted Charlie to grow and have his own revenge for their abandonment. He'd already checked up on them of course. As expected Kate Wilder hadn't gotten all that much further with her career even after trying to use her harrowing survival story to get her own show and publicize herself. She'd continued to entrust a crystal to take care of all her problems rather than actually dealing with them and so had alienated herself from everybody she worked with to the point they hated her. Jamie and Erin had passed around from job to job keeping their heads down for the most part, they'd just been happy to be alive and have their relationship. Then there was indecisive Mark, he had surprisingly done reliably well for himself with his friend Murray and, while not ambitious or eager to use surviving the murder castle to his advantage, he'd likely manage to make a name for himself in another few years. They'd gotten their freedom and done precious little with it while Charlie had risen from the ashes, and, as soon as they were dead, Charlie would soar.
"You're right, they betrayed me. They abandoned me and left me for you to kill. I'm – aren't they only alive because I distracted you?" Du'Met nodded, had Charlie not been as interesting or died when he was meant to, then he'd likely have killed them all with ease. "I'm the reason they fell into your hands in the first place." Du'Met jabbed the line 'they betrayed you' again and Charlie sighed because he already knew that, but he'd been the one to insist they got in Du'Met's limo. "But didn't they earn their lives by surviving? If- if you do bring them back and – and kill them and I help you kill them, then they really will all be dead because I was stupid and didn't check for the catch. They'll be dead because of me. God, I regret ever answering that phone call!"
Du'Met's eyes darkened and slammed the director into the gray wall by his throat with so much force that Charlie's head bounced off of it. Rage and hurt bubbled inside of him and, despite the pain in the back of his head, Charlie quickly caught on to how much what he'd just said had actually hurt his lover. Instantly regret flooded, it twinkled in his eyes and caused him to grip on to Du'Met's shirt cuffs tightly. Du'Met may have been a ruthless serial killer but he'd come from an abusive, lonely and unloving background. All those who'd been meant to care and love him had only hurt him. As a kid, his principal, Glen Thompson, had gone so far as to write to his mother regarding his behavior and concerns for his welfare, but that had all it had been, a few missed phone calls and a letter Lucinda hadn't ever responded to. Even the school hadn't cared all that much about him. Then Charlie had entered Du'Met's life and not only accepted who Du'Met had chosen to be but actually loved him, sure it was an insane and very unhealthy sort of love but love nevertheless. And what had Charlie done, he'd just told him he regretted ever meeting the man.
"I don't regret coming to the island! I don't! I'm sorry, Granthem, I didn't mean that. I didn't. If I'd not taken that call we wouldn't be together. I love you. I love you and I'm so sorry. I adore you. We'll always be together, I promise. I'm all yours, I'm not leaving, I'm yours."
Eventually Du'Met's grasp lessened and Charlie took the opportunity to catch his lover's lips for a series of desperate kisses. Neither man wanted to be alone any longer. After a while the desperation faded and, though still pinned to the wall by the indestructible being called Du'Met, Charlie managed to rest his head on the taller man's shoulder as he continued to cling to him. Meanwhile the murderer stared daggers into the nerve centre wall as he attempted to reorganize his thoughts and calm the ire within himself; stroking his thumb over the nape of Charlie's neck did wonders to aid that along.
For many minutes the only sounds were those that came from whiting fans and stereotypical plinking fluorescent lights often gave off. Charlie could remember when Du'Met had first kidnapped him and how much he'd thought about escape or how much comfort his team still being alive had provided. Du'Met was correct as usual though, his team had left him for dead and Charlie suspected they probably didn't care all that much. His team had given him nothing but snide comments, judgement and arrogance the whole way while Du'Met had been the one to provide Charlie with love, praise and freedom to create, all of which he'd been sorely lacking. Du'Met saw all these things go through his shorter lover's mind once he'd gotten hold of his own thoughts and, as soon as he did, Du'Met knew he'd get what he wanted.
"You're right," said Charlie, his breath warm against the older man's skin. "They did betray me. They had to know tying me up would probably get me killed but they did it anyway. Actually accused me of plotting the whole thing to justify offering me up as a sacrifice. It doesn't matter that I'm glad we're together because of that, they still tried to kill me." Du'Met smirked, Charlie really was easy to manipulate when he felt loved. Charlie turned his blue eyes up to meet Du'Met's dark ones. "They weren't playing fair before, were they? You were distracted and they used me as a shield, that's not fair. If you bring them back they'll have to play fair, right?" Du'Met nodded. "Then okay, I won't object more. Kate always wanted to be in front of the cameras, well at least that bitch'll be the star of the show."
The former FBI agent beamed internally because his dark phoenix truly was something to behold. Charlie had entered the murder castle a pathetic borderline narcissist and pariah who'd never get that big break he yearned for, but under Du'Met's watchful eye he'd evolved into a true artist just as Du'Met had; in an odd way he thought even Sherman might have been proud.
~X~
In order to keep Charlie firmly on board with the plan to kidnap and hunt the former members of Lonnit Entertainment, Du'Met had been doing the old softly-softly thing he'd done with Charlie when they'd first arrived at the second castle. He'd had some steaks in the fridge so Du'Met had cooked them up medium rare and paired it with one of his older red wines. When he entered the dining room, the gentle classical music luring him in, Charlie had taken his usual seat but seemed to be again having a mental debate. He set the plates down and sat himself at the head of the table all without getting a reaction from his blond lover, not even when he poured them both a glass.
~FLASHBACK~
Graham MacClery was a fairly tall boy a little older than Charlie who'd shown up randomly one day from Glasgow to be one of Charlie's classmates. Most of the other kids of fourteen and fifteen hadn't really cared, sure they'd been friendly enough to him but nobody had bothered rushing to be his new bestie. Charlie though, he'd noticed Graham instantly: his height, developing broad shoulders and scoundrel smile. It was the late 1980s rather than the 1880s so Charlie knew he was bisexual and, while he didn't go splashing the information about, he had no internal shame regarding it. So Charlie knew attraction was why he'd taken such notice of the older boy and, to Charlie's surprise and glee, Graham had noticed him.
Over the following months Graham and Charlie had grown rather close what with Charlie's quick whit and Graham's rascal nature. They did their homework together, talked comic books and films while loitering in the park. In fact, Graham had been the first to pop the idea of being a director into Charlie's skull, 'you think you can do better then direct it yourself' he'd said.
It must have been a Friday when it happened because Charlie remembered being locked in his bedroom for a few days after it happened. Charlie and Graham had been in the back yard of the Lonnit home when their innocent flirting had finally gone from beating around the bush to something more. Graham had pressed Charlie up against the fence using his impressive height to keep the younger teen in place and finally, finally they'd kissed. The first one had been a little awkward and subsequent ones were unpractised and messy, but they were theirs and they were perfect.
"Get away from him!" Both boys jumped apart as Pam launched through the kitchen door, grabbed her son by the wrist and hauled him back toward the house with no thought the pain she caused both mentally and physically. "You disgusting pervert, get off my property. Don't come back! Sickening little fag!"
Graham had just stared at Charlie as he was yanked back inside the house, he'd not known what to do or how to help. As soon as the kitchen door swung shut, Charlie was thrown down onto the kitchen floor beside the fridge where he landed with a thud. In that moment all of Charlie's quick whit and words failed him.
"How dare you let that degenerate touch you!" She screamed. "You won't ever disgrace God like that again, you sinful, selfish brat."
In that moment all Charlie wanted was his father back, the father who'd accepted his son for who he was. Pam hadn't ever been a particularly attentive mother, she'd never seemed to care all that much and he'd always known her to be homophobic and prejudice, but Charlie hadn't ever expected her to speak to her only son with so much spite. Yes, Charlie wanted his dad. His father had died and left him with a roommate instead of a mother.
"I-"
"Be quiet! You will never speak to that faggot again, do you understand me?! You're not going to be one of those freaks, you're going to be normal! I'm glad your father is dead because if he knew how disgusting you are he'd kill himself."
Charlie's eyes clenched shut because that wasn't true. That wasn't true! Charlie's father had known his son was interested in boys as well as girls and he'd accepted Charlie. Lonnit Sr. had made sure Charlie knew there wasn't anything 'wrong' with him and that he'd always be his son. Charlie's father had been a good man who Charlie had adored so he'd not let his mother take that away from him. Why couldn't the cancer have taken Pam instead of his wonderful father?
"Go to your room! Get out of my sight and pray the Lord forgives you!"
~FLASHBACK END~
Charlie came back to himself when Du'Met placed a hand on his, his eyes blinked rapidly before the blond finally focused on the older man. Silence and Charlie hadn't ever gotten along well, every time there was silence he slipped into his memories and regrets. Talk of kidnapping the crew had stirred up worries and darkness he'd worked hard to bury and the short separation so Du'Met could prepare dinner had been enough to get a little lost.
"I'm okay, really." The blond flashed his lover a calming smile then picked up his cutlery. "This looks great, thanks." Du'Met simply cocked his head and waited until Charlie sighed and caved. "I was just thinking about my mother, please let's just forget it. I don't want to think about her. The kid I was when I was with her is like when you were Hector Munday, something to be forgotten."
That seemed to work because Du'Met nodded his acceptance then turned his attention to his own dinner. He could respect Charlie not wanting to revisit parts of his past, Du'Met had shoved as much of Hector Munday aside as he could and wouldn't ever return to being him again. So the gramophone continued to play while the two men ate their meal and sipped their wine. Charlie might not have done well with a lack of conversation but Du'Met was quite the opposite and ate without incident. Charlie finished his steak first due to the need for something to do, and soon fell back in his chair to drink the rest of his wine.
"Hey, Granthem?" The killer looked at his director. "I know you don't like talking and don't want me pressuring or – I mean, I know I don't make the rules but-" He took a gulp of wine. "Would – would you say something nice to me? Please?"
Du'Met's head cocked to one side because Charlie hadn't once tried to pull words out of him before: Du'Met had respected the blond for that. His first reaction was to reject it and continue eating, but Charlie's eyes were distant and upset; whatever memory had surfaced had rattled him. Being mute had come naturally to Du'Met, but he didn't mind showing Charlie who he was, not any longer, so gave his phoenix what he needed.
"… I love you."
Charlie grinned with gratitude and admiration for the older man. He'd needed reassurance and Du'Met had provided it without question. With those three simple words Pam's horrid maliciousness faded from his mind to be replaced by the killers caring ones.
"Thank you. I love you too."
Any doubt that could have stumbled back to Charlie, any pesky morals, were washed away with Du'Met's declaration of love. Everything had been made all okay again and Pam went back into the recesses of Charlie's mind.
No matter how Charlie had reacted Du'Met wouldn't have changed his mind about kidnapping the crew again, that was set in stone and wouldn't change. Jamie Tiergan, Erin Keenan, Kate Wilder, Mark Nestor: he'd kill them all. They'd forced him to give up his beloved murder castle and several of his preserved victims, that castle had almost been finished and they'd snatched it away. They'd not had the common courtesy to die what with all their screwdrivers and leaking windows and fucking rewiring. Du'Met didn't blame them entirely for surviving though, he'd been distracted by how interesting Charlie had proven himself to be and dropped the ball a little. Du'Met wouldn't be distracted a second time. Not a second time.
~X~
When the day had finally come for Du'Met to leave the island to kidnap Charlie's former team, the blond had found himself feeling almost alone as when he'd gone to get the McAndrews. His heart and mind had called out to his murderous lover to return and comfort him, to keep Charlie's mind from slipping back into memories better left forgotten.
That was how he'd ended up sat on the floor of the yellow cable ferry with his back to the pilot's house, a bottle of root beer in one hand while the fingers of the other drummed absent-mindedly on the floor. When he and his crew had first boarded the ferry they'd almost been at one another's throats: Jamie's and Kate's bickering had started to take its toll on everybody, while Erin and Mark were just quietly annoyed Charlie had taken their free weekend away from them. None of them, even for a split second, had thought their trip would go quite as south as it had. 'We truly appreciate this' Kate had told Morello in that prissy tone of hers.
"It wasn't my fault!" He suddenly snapped after a sip of his drink.
Charlie might not have religiously vetted Du'Met's – well, Joseph Morello's claims, and nor had he seen being hunted through a murder hotel coming, but neither had the others; wasn't like any of them were fucking clairvoyant. At least Charlie wasn't a traitor, he'd not slipped up to the balcony to talk about backstabbing them, he'd not tied them up and left them for dead, he'd not gone out of his way to piss them off. No! No, Charlie had kept some fucking order and made a polite, eloquent toast to them all. They were the traitors, the betrayers, Du'Met had been correct about that. They deserved it, they had it coming. At least that was what most of Charlie had started to think: he kept wrestling with that spark of his morality Du'Met hadn't quite beaten down. Sometimes a flare-up occurred and Charlie really questioned if he'd gone too far. He, Mark, Jamie, Erin and Kate had all been a strange little family with him as the patriarch meant to guide and protect them not slaughter them. But then that moment of morality ended and Charlie slipped deep back into the darkness where he didn't care. They'd betrayed him. Him! The man who'd taken them in and given them jobs, who'd imparted important life lessons and tips about the industry. They'd kept their lives by offering up Charlie's, but they'd not be pulling that stunt twice.
Charlie finished his root beer while Du'Met quietly hauled his old team back into his clutches. Du'Met would have his game, the team would get their comeuppance and Charlie would not only make the most important documentary of his life, but gain the revenge he so rightly deserved.