Chapter Text
The biggest complication in Porsche’s feelings about Vegas — and Pete with Vegas — was also its simplest part: at their cores, Porsche and Vegas shared most of the same sentiments for the people around them. Vegas’ contented smile as he watched Pete and Macau pick through the bodyguards’ gift basket matched Porsche’s, when he briefly caught his own reflection in a reflective wall panel.
Worse, Porsche didn’t feel the need to school that expression off his face. Kinn wasn’t here, and he’d left Chay in Big’s room.
When the major family body guards had found out about Porsche’s little visit, they’d given Porsche something to pass on to Pete for them.
Khun had arranged for the gifts to be delivered in an actual basket, complete with crinkly outer plastic wrapping and a stuffed fish with yellow roses in its mouth strapped to the top with gaudy gift ribbon. The nurses had thought it was for Vegas, and Porsche hadn’t bothered disabusing them of the assumption it was a typical ‘get better’ gift basket.
It wasn’t; it was the bodyguards’ idea of a ‘goodbye…?’ gift basket.
Packed with zip-ties to sedatives to lock-picks disguised as jewelry, a compact pistol with two loaded magazines and a box of ammunition, emergency beacon transmitters, a fake passport and complete set of documents to back it up, medical supplies, half a dozen bank- and phone-cards, not to mention all the hard cash stuffed into that fish, Pete could walk out of the hospital with nothing but the basket and still flee the country — or more importantly, Vegas.
Combined with Porsche’s gifted duffel bag, some extra changes of clothes from Khun, and the bulletproof vest from Kinn, and Pete had one of the most effective up go-bags in all of Bangkok.
“Even the basket is a weapon,” Pete explained to Macau, chuckling as he held up a cutesy card with further instructions coded in the terrible poetry. “Apparently, the fibers used to weave it are particularly combustible. Arm advised I keep it far away from open flames.”
Macau warily eyed the basket, but did not actually set down the ring that unfolded into thin brass knuckles.
From atop the mountain of pillows, Vegas huffed in amusement as he took in all the exfiltration tools spread out across the foot of his bed. “Should you be showing us this?”
Porsche reluctantly considered it a point in Vegas’ favor that he didn’t seem at-all bothered by this tangible reminder of all the allies and resources Pete would have if he ever needed to get away Vegas.
“What’s this?” Macau asked, holding up what looked like fancy chocolate.
“…I think that one might just be actual chocolate,” Porsche answered.
Pete plucked it from Macau’s grasp. “I’ll pass that onto Fiat, then.”
Taking a deep breath to brace himself, Porsche asked, “And how is Fiat?”
Because what little attention Pete had left that wasn’t for Vegas had been fixated on the fellow bodyguard Pete had shot in Vegas’ defense.
“They’ll try getting him off the ventilator tomorrow,” Pete answered. Smile tightening for a moment, he admitted, “He’s already agreed to let me help him after they do.”
Porsche nodded, trying not to overthink Fiat’s motivations or Pete’s thought processes. Trying to determine how much of a grudge Fiat held versus how chaotic that entire night had been would only give Porsche a headache without any productive purpose to make up for it.
He turned his attention to Vegas, only to see the other man’s gaze fixed on Porsche’s hand.
No; on the ring on Porsche’s hand.
“…I feel like I should apologize,” Porsche admitted.
Vegas snorted, this time the sound much darker. “Why? You’re not sorry.”
“I should be,” Porsche countered. “I don’t even want this, and I know you did.”
Rolling his eyes, Vegas dropped his head back on the pillows, while Pete and Macau started to repack the basket again, neither saying a word in an effort to not tighten the tension.
“I don’t intend to…to entirely take over, I’m not trying to replace your dad or even you,” Porsche explained to Vegas. He held up the hand to let the ring glint in the late afternoon sunlight. “I’m perfectly fine letting you continue to do the bulk of running things and only using this as a veto power.”
Vegas rolled his head to glare at Porsche. “Really? ‘Veto’ power? What do you think this is, the National Assembly?”
Now Porsche rolled his eyes. “Do you want me to just oust you entirely?”
“It doesn’t matter what I want to do, what matters is what you can do!” Vegas snapped. “And there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”
“There’s plenty you can do to stop me,” Porsche said. “I’m an outsider, I have no clue what I’m doing, and even if I did I wouldn’t know enough about your family’s inner workings for that to mean anything.” He raised his hand with the ring, half of him still itching to yank the damn thing off and the other half terrified to. “Do you think I can’t recognize a white elephant gift just because I’m the one riding it?”
Vegas’ face contorted into a snarl, and the heart monitor started to beep faster and faster.
“Porsche,” Pete chided, voice quiet but no less firm for it.
He’d only said Porsche’s name, but both the former minor family heir and current minor family head turned away from each other to take the deepest breaths they could.
“I can’t trust you to leave the Minor family entirely in your hands,” Porsche said. “But I don’t trust Korn enough to take it entirely out of your hands, either.”
At the end of the bed, Pete stiffened. Rather ironically, given he’s the one who actually left the major family for the minor one, he was probably still more loyal to Korn — or at least opposed to betraying him — than Porsche and Vegas combined.
“Let’s work together,” Porsche offered. “We’ve had a lot of problems with each other, but we’ve always at least been able to work well together. Not right now, but when you can stay awake for longer than half an hour at a time.”
The beeping of Vegas’ heart monitor didn’t slow down, but at least it stopped speeding up.
Macau looked between the three adults, then coughed and rolled to his feet.
“I’m gonna go get some snacks from the vending machine,” he said — in English. “Vegas, Pete, you want anything?”