Work Text:
July:
For the first time since they bought the Guildford house, Booker is afraid to go inside. Nile has zero patience for it, shoving their bags into his arms and maneuvering him into the house.
"No one is going to bite, Booker. Get your ass inside. It's too goddamn hot for this."
Andy is waiting at the kitchen table.
Normally, Booker would be more excited to see her.
"Quynh and Joe went to the market," she says flatly. "Nicky is with Copley helping him sort out some details. They'll be here in an hour."
It's just the three of them, then. Great.
"Hey, boss." Nile gets the first hug, tugging Andy up and squeezing her tight.
Andy doesn't let go until Nile does. Booker feels guilty for how long it takes.
"Hey, kid." Andy turns and looks at Booker with ice in her eyes. "Booker."
"Is it too soon to ask for a hug, boss?"
"You're a fucking idiot, Book." Andy still hugs him, her calloused hand on his neck grounding him. "You scare the kid like that again, and I'll string you up by your fucking ankles."
"Understood." Booker holds her carefully. She seems so fragile these days. "Can I get you a drink?"
"I already got my own, thank you. You can get cleaned up and put away the weapons. I'm going to commandeer your wife for a while, and then the others will be back to make dinner."
That is... terrifying.
"Got it."
Booker carries their bags back to their bedroom. Even with reprimand from the family hanging over his head, stepping into their room is like an oasis. Nile was right to suggest an earthy green when they renovated the master suite.
Though, depending on how this goes, he may be sleeping on the couch.
Booker forces himself to focus on the task at hand.
Unpacking from a job is easy, methodical. Any clothes they didn't have to burn go in the laundry. Their go-bags get repacked and shoved under the bed. Nile's favorite handgun gets cleaned and put in the bedside table.
Somehow, he finds a place in the gun safe for the M16 Nile stole from the Nazis. Booker makes a note to file out the engraved swastikas before they use it next.
Once everything is put away, he takes the fastest shower possible. He doesn't want to be alone with his thoughts too long.
"Booker, you promised!"
If he never sees Nile in that much pain again, it will be too soon.
...
"Booker, come help with the groceries," Nile calls as Booker is getting dressed.
He buttons his fly and slides a t-shirt over his head, still lost in thought.
She hasn't called him by his first name since the motel shower in Kentucky. The distance she's placed between them aches bone-deep.
Booker does as he's asked, helping Joe and Quynh unpack the bags of food. They were supposed to be surveilling in Kentucky for weeks, so the cupboards are bare.
Yet another indication of his failings.
Now would be a great time to take up drinking again, but Nile would be so disappointed in him. He can't handle the idea of letting her down yet again.
Joe nearly crushes him in a hug once anything cold is in the fridge. His love has always been overwhelming. Booker has yet to figure out how to process it properly.
"Do not pull this shit again," Joe tells him in zeneize, something Nile hasn't quite picked up the nuance of yet. "You will wish for the sweet bliss of banishment if you hurt our girl, do you understand?"
"Yes, and I will deserve it."
"Smart man." Joe claps him on the shoulder when they part. "Help me with dinner, yes?"
Quynh takes Nile and Andy into the lounge, leaving Booker and Joe in the kitchen.
"I am sure the others will yell at you," Joe says as starts to make the flatbread.
"I deserve it," Booker says bluntly, chopping onions and cubing lamb for the mreifisa. "I fucked up."
"That, my friend, is the understatement of the century. What prompted you to go into the Neo-Nazi base without backup?"
Booker sighs. "You should have heard them talking, Joe."
"You got angry. Of course you did, they were Nazis. But why did you feel the need to act?"
"They started talking about their latest lynching." Booker sneers, less than eager to discuss the horrors of the white supremacist faction they found.
"The young black woman the authorities ruled a suicide." It isn't a question. Joe keeps up with the news as much as they do.
"They were bragging about her murder. Bragging about one less-" Bile rises in his throat. "I cannot even say it out loud."
Joe looks understanding. He takes his time getting the bread in the oven, and Booker knows he's gathering his thoughts.
"Booker, you cannot murder every racist in the world," Joe says with a sigh.
"I can fucking try," Booker growls. "They were so proud of themselves, so joyous in their blatant misogyny and racism."
He's married to a young black woman. If the world had gone differently, it could have been Nile in that tree. It makes Booker's blood boil.
"Good motives do not excuse stupid actions," Joe says calmly. "I get where you're coming from, though."
Of course he does. Joe is an Arab man who first died in the Crusades, for God's sake. If any of them understand the pain of bigotry, it's Joe.
"I couldn't just listen to them."
"We should have thought that through before we sent you," Joe admits. "You two were the closest, but Nicky and I should have taken the job. Sometimes I forget how new you are to this world, despite your age."
"I'm trying not to be yet another white man who makes the world worse."
"Yes. But intent and research and 'wokeness' is not praxis, Booker, even if you've been doing that research since the American Civil War. Getting yourself murdered isn't praxis either."
Booker can't help but snort.
"Nile has been teaching you new words again."
Joe rolls his eyes. "I have social media to teach me new words, because I refuse to be a relic of the past."
"Is your profile still that of an egg?" Booker teases.
"Copley says to keep our faces private unless necessary." Joe checks the Dutch oven and adds the meat and vegetables Booker chopped. "And don't think you're getting out of this conversation by distracting me."
"Sorry. Sorry, I shouldn't try that." Booker gets a glass of water and wishes it were whisky. "I should have thought through my actions. I should not have tried to storm an American white supremacist compound as a one-man army. I should not have scared Nile like that."
"As long as you know exactly how you fucked up." Joe stops poking at the lamb long enough to squeeze his shoulder. "You have to think, Book."
"I know."
...
Dinner is an awkward affair, but the family makes the most of it.
As Andy and Quynh clear the table and take their turn at dishes, Joe obviously decides it's time to face the music.
"Nile, have we told you the story of how Nicky finally realized he loved me?" Joe asks, and Booker sighs.
"No? I kind of assumed it just... happened."
"It was never going to be that simple," Nicky says with a tight smile. "I had too many hang-ups, between our different faiths and our same gender."
"I loved him for almost one hundred years before he finally realized," Joe says, and the mirth in his eyes is balanced by the ancient ache in his voice. "I knew he loved me too, but..."
"But I was an idiot," Nicky says. "I was blind to what I could have if I just asked."
"What was the tipping point?" Nile asks.
Booker knows what's coming.
"It was the late 1100s, and we were living outside of Constantinople during the tail end of the Byzantine-Norman wars," Nicky explains.
Booker looks over at Copley, who always loves their older stories. Copley must have heard this one before, because he looks ill already.
"Nicolo was at the market in the next village," Joe says. "I was milking the goats. Norman raiders came into our village, killing the men and plundering to feed their army."
"When I returned from selling goat cheese and buying supplies, it wasn't long after the raiders left." Nicky's inhale is shaky. "I found Joe with his head cut off in our little barn."
Nile covers her mouth with her hand, gasping at the turn of events.
"I didn't see them coming," Joe explains. "I couldn't defend myself. They got the goats."
Booker resists the urge to chuckle. Joe is always saddest about those damn goats.
"It was the first time either of us had sustained a wound that large. I had to try, to see if I could help put him back together." Nicky sips his wine. "It was then, praying to whatever God would listen, that I realized losing Joe would be like losing part of my soul."
"It took a painful, gruesome murder, but when I woke up, Nicolo kissed me for the first time." Joe leans over, and Nicky kisses him. "He said to me, 'I was afraid I lost you.'"
"And Yusuf said, 'I would never leave you.' That's when I knew it was more than just camaraderie that held us together, more than fate."
"That's... fuck, that's heavy." Nile downs the rest of her wine. "I didn't know..."
"We should have told you sooner. Maybe it would have saved you some pain," Nicky suggests.
"I don't think anything would take the edge off of what I felt," Nile says quietly. "Thank you, though. It's a beautiful story."
Andy and Quynh return to the table with a fresh pot of coffee.
"Okay, Book. Let's get this over with."
...
After much debate and discussion, opinions flying on all sides, Booker has his verdict.
"You're grounded," Andy says firmly. "For the next year, you'll work strictly from home here, the townhouse in Paris, or Cap Coz. You will not go further than France, you will not take any solo jobs in that time, and you will be required to let us know if you move from location to location."
Booker saw that coming. While it isn't a true house-arrest, it is the closest thing to it.
"Furthermore, you will help Copley with data scrubbing and financial dealings," Nile adds. "Whatever he needs from you, you are to assist him."
"I've been working on shifting the deeds of everyone's property to updated incarnations of your names," Copley says. "You'll take over on that project for now."
Mind-numbing forgery, the very thing he was grateful to Copley for taking over. A true punishment.
"Nile will still run jobs as necessary," Andy adds.
It's the hardest part of this, knowing Nile might be out facing evil without him to protect her.
"You've lost the right to be her partner on missions," Quynh says firmly. "You left her in the field. The punishment must fit the crime."
Since her return, since Andy's renewed mortality, Quynh's patience for splitting up and abandoning partners is nonexistent. Rage has been emanating from her all evening.
"We can't afford to lose both of you just because you fucked up," Joe says. "When we run jobs that require four immortals, Nile will still run point. When we run jobs that require Nile's skills, she'll come with us."
"One year from today, we will reevaluate your place in the field," Nicky says. "Until then, this is how things must be."
"The family is in agreement, Sébastien," Andy says. "Do you understand the terms?"
"I understand," Booker says quietly. "I'm sorry. Your expectations are reasonable."
"We're doing this because we love you, asshole." Andy sighs. "Don't let this happen again. Booker Tribunals do not need to be an every-five-years thing."
"You got it, boss."
...
Booker hesitates after he brushes his teeth. They got ready for bed together like always, but...
"Sébastien, come to bed," Nile orders sleepily. "I can hear you thinking from here."
Relief rushes through him, both from the name and the request. Booker does as he's told, sliding under the covers on his side of the bed.
Nile pokes and prods until he's settled with his head on her chest and his arm around her waist. Nile likes this position because she gets to easily play with his hair and kiss the top of his head.
Booker likes it because no one can take her from him without him noticing.
"I love you," he mumbles into the softness of her sleep shirt. "I'm sorry."
"I know," Nile whispers back. "I love you too, so much."
"I'm sorry I worried you, and I'm sorry I was an idiot who went off-plan."
"Shh." Nile pets his hair. "We've discussed it enough, tonight. Sleep, now."
"Will you ever forgive me?" Booker asks. He can't help it, can't go on without knowing.
"Already have," Nile says softly. "Forever is too long to hold grudges."
Relieved, Sébastien Freeman la Livre finally slips happily into deep, dreamless sleep.