Primary Gain

A/N: This chapter was incredibly difficult to write and I expect it will be somewhat of a challenge to read. Just keep in mind that Lelouch is going through a sudden and rather violent change in character in order to deal with circumstances out of his control. Also remember that rationality and intense trauma are rarely ever friends. 'Primary Gain' is a psychiatric term- it might help to go look it up if you feel the need to understand the story a little better.
Also, my sincere thanks to everyone who has reviewed. It really helps me craft each new chapter to know how you all react to what has already been written. I do read reviews and consider the feedback, no matter what your opinion may be. Happy reading!


Chapter Four

“If someone doesn’t call my sister and tell her I’m safe she’s going to start making phone calls to people who care.” Lelouch spoke into the dark mirror on the interrogation room wall. By his count it was nearly midnight and Nunnaly was quick to worry when he didn’t come home in time. He had a brief hope that she was still out with Sayako or blissfully asleep, but then he remembered the date. It was movie night.

The situation had become something of a blur in between getting cuffed by Suzaku and getting shoved into an interrogation room by Suzaku. They were playing the waiting game, leaving him to stare at the miserable sight of Lelouch Lamperouge in handcuffs.

The one-way mirror was like a great black pool, placid despite the predators lurking beneath. Once it had been powerful to watch from behind that glass, anonymous and in control as the mirror acted like a full-body mask. He wondered if the agents inside felt the magnitude of that control and if it might be amplified by the fact that they were watching him specifically.

It was interesting, Lelouch contemplated, how every statement announced in an empty room seemed ridiculous and staged. The effect just Lelouch that much more exasperated when he was being honest, pounding heart, aching wrists and racing mind aside.

“Also,” Lelouch held up his hands, a slight smile evidencing his self-mockery, “I can’t feel my fingers and they’re starting to turn blue.”

No reaction. Again.

Lelouch sighed away the smile when he realized that the men behind the mirror probably wouldn’t take it the right way, but what was the right way to act in such circumstances? Either they had all the information they needed or they were going to send someone in to try to get him to talk with a little leverage. The maddening part of his captivity was not knowing what information Todoh had in his possession. The ‘surveillance’ Suzaku spoke of could be any number of things found out in their investigation, though Lelouch couldn’t imagine that anyone in the family had deliberately given him away. No one wanted him back badly enough to risk enraging him in the process.

Maybe they had found some form of documentation, a picture. Maybe someone had spoken his name and was overheard by the wrong people. Maybe one of the knights was sent to check on him and was followed. Lelouch could think of a million maybes, but in reality forewarned was not forearmed. He didn’t think Suzaku had been lying, he’d looked much too distressed to attempt falsehoods, but that was also a possibility.

In retrospect it didn’t help his protestations of innocence when Lelouch hadn’t protested about being cuffed and taken away. His compliance alone had confirmed that he had something to hide, but at the time Lelouch had been unable to think clearly, too distracted by the utterly defeated look in Suzaku’s eyes.

Whoever Charles had stashed away in the building had done a piss-poor job of keeping his secret safe, and Lelouch was almost glad to be the poor bastard in the interrogation room and not the messenger who was on his way to breaking the bad news.

Charles had lost his temper only once in front of his son. Once had been far more than enough.

Lelouch let his hands fall and nearly jumped at the loud clatter the handcuffs made against the iron table. To his surprise Suzaku had put him in the room where they brought in the potentially violent suspects. Nothing inside the room was breakable, the table was too heavy to move, and his chair was bolted to the floor. Lelouch rubbed his eyes and didn’t feel ashamed for wanting a polished mahogany table and chairs he could lean back into, or overhead lamps that wouldn’t assault his already tired eyes.

Non-violent suspects were always taken to one of the more comfortable interrogation rooms. The fact that Lelouch was sitting on cold iron gave him a clue as to how angry he had made the investigators, but not why. He had watched suspects sit and stew before, analyzed their every sigh, speech nuance, body movement and had found that for most people their emotions were nearly written on their foreheads by the second hour of waiting. Lelouch was quickly approaching his third hour of sitting and stoic silence had gotten old about forty-five minutes into his captivity.

Hardened criminals usually lasted eight to ten hours before resorting to bribery or death threats.

Lelouch sighed, leaned back the best he could and said, “I’m getting close to asking for a lawyer.”

It took exactly fifty seconds for the interrogation room door to open. Lelouch was mildly startled to see who walked in, but he was too tired to show it, and after almost three hours of thinking was too ready to care. Suzaku sat on the other side of the table, sliding one thin manila folder under Lelouch’s hands. He reached over and his stare never faltered as he carefully loosened the cuffs on Lelouch’s wrists before making sure they were still locked.

“I’m fully aware that I’m under arrest, Agent Kururugi,” Lelouch winced as the blood rushed back into his fingers, “Leaving them on isn’t going to make me feel guilty or trapped.”

“I wasn’t going for guilty,” Suzaku said, his voice back to normal, strong and even, “I’m going for ashamed.”

Suzaku…Agent Kururugi…really was exceptional when it finally came down to the interrogation room. Lelouch looked down on his cuffs, imagined how betrayed Suzaku must be feeling, and felt some part of his heart echo and go cold.

“Oh.” Lelouch murmured, testing the chain with a sigh. “Well done.”

And under those cuffs…Lelouch was both desperate and hesitant to know what could be inside such a slim folder. He curled the edge away just to make sure that there was actually something inside and left the rest to fate and a conversation.

Suzaku tilted his head, his eyes intensely sharp, burning. There was practically a weight to that gaze for all the fury and disgust it communicated without a breath. Suzaku’s voice didn’t give him away, but Lelouch knew the man’s eyes, had seen the same shadow as Suzaku had scattered his carefully collected case files across the room.

“Not going to read it, Doc?” A smirk uncoiled on his face, “I suppose you already know what’s inside, don’t you?”

First, the mocking, denigrating ‘Doc’ followed by an acknowledgement of Lelouch’s supposed intelligence and guilt. Somehow Lelouch had powerfully convinced Suzaku that he was a genius and though the idea would have been flattering in the office it wasn’t helping him when Suzaku’s opinion really, truly mattered.

Todoh had sent the right agent. That soft, empty place in his heart began to solidify as Lelouch accepted that what he wanted most out of their exchange was to salvage some part of Suzaku’s respect, his kindness. Lelouch didn’t want Suzaku’s brief smiles in his direction to be the last.

“I haven’t betrayed anyone,” Lelouch said, looking straight into those emotive eyes, searching for sympathy and finding nothing but cold resolve.

When Suzaku made no comment, no movement, Lelouch continued to let the words pressing at his throat out between them, no matter how desperate and pathetic it would make him seem.

“I’ve never betrayed the FBI, and I’ve never revealed the content of my patients’ sessions, or their reason for being in my office to anyone.”

“Because that would be unprofessional.” Suzaku drew out the words, forcefully reminding him of their bond. It had taken everything Lelouch knew to get Suzaku to trust him, using every trick and technique while watching for any break that might indicate a way into his deepest feelings of regret and remorse…and Suzaku…it had taken every ounce of trust Suzaku could muster to respond to Lelouch’s silent need for cooperation, if not faith.

If Lelouch couldn’t convince Suzaku of the truth he knew for certain that the man would never expose himself in that way again; no trust, no respect, no love…and no reason to live.

For the first time in many years Lelouch Lamperouge was close to giving up and just spitting out whatever Suzaku might want to hear.

“No, because it would be wrong in every sense of the word to expose a person like that.” Lelouch folded his hands, “And, despite every horrible thing you may think I am, you know I’m not a rapist.”

Suzaku went entirely still as a flush rose in his cheeks, as his eyes blurred into some mixture of hate and shock, a look Lelouch had never seen and couldn’t identify. When the expression settled back into cool hatred Lelouch despaired.

“I know no such thing.” Suzaku said, “You’re a criminal and a liar. There’s no telling what you really are, Lamperouge.”

“I have never lied to the Bureau,” Lelouch shot back, frustration rising and feeling much like anger. He’d given up his family to ensure the fact that, “I’m not a criminal.”

Suzaku wasn’t even listening, he was just staring and waiting for Lelouch to be done so that he could take his turn to speak.

“I’ll tell you right now, Lamperouge, I’m not going to trust a single word you say. You’re scum. You’re nothing but a piece of shit to be scraped off the building and left in prison to rot where your friends can’t help you. A few decades of solitary in a maximum security facility sounds right to me.”

The truth was that the mental image of being alone with his own thoughts forever-

“You watch your mouth,” Lelouch snapped, leaning in close and taking pleasure that Suzaku was startled enough to immediately flinch away. By the time Suzaku had returned to his hovering distaste Lelouch had calmed every part of himself, even the part that loved Suzaku, and had sharpened his resolve into a weapon. All bets were off if Suzaku thought he was going to control Lelouch with fear. Lelouch had learned early on that if you let a single person get away with disrespecting you once, the entire mob would follow suit.

“That’s right, I forgot” Suzaku said mockingly, scowling, “I’m supposed to treat Britannians with respect.  Should I start worrying, Lamperouge? Are you going to go tattle to Schneizer and have me killed?”

“Schneizer.” Lelouch couldn’t conceal a startling moment of shock. Schneizer was always so meticulous about keeping their meetings a secret…he had promised on his life to keep Lelouch safe from the possibility of what he was actually experiencing. He had promised and Lelouch had chosen to believe him.

Shock quickly twisted into a hidden fury as Lelouch castigated himself for believing such an obvious lie. Schneizer did what he wanted when he wanted, and apparently he wanted Lelouch out of the FBI.

Suzaku smiled with satisfaction and said, “Maybe you want to open that folder now, huh?”

For a moment Lelouch hated Suzaku, hated the FBI, hated that he had given so much to them so freely, hated that he’d given any part of himself to anyone at all, and then he opened the file and just hated Schneizer. Just Schneizer and just Schneizer for the rest of his life.

The photo inside the folder showed Lelouch down on the ground, bowing low with his neck exposed. At the time the act had been simple, automatic, and little but a courtesy, but the angle of the photo told a different story. In the 9x12 glossy Lelouch seemed to be groveling in front of the man who in contrast seemed tall and powerful, a slight smirk of mockery gracing his lips. Lelouch looked back up into Suzaku’s expression of mocking disdain, amusement, and decided that he was going to kill his brother.

“This is where the tape ended.” Lelouch said with certainty. Schneizer wouldn’t have let it run and display his weakness to the world…but, Lelouch’s mind whispered, maybe he did. Maybe Schneizer believed that Lelouch would never tell the world what he allowed his brother to do, or even that they were brothers at all.

The ploy was genius, a masterstroke, and Lelouch could only nod dumbly at Suzaku’s shaking head, because Schneizer…Schneizer was right. He’d finally found the key to destroying Lelouch, humiliating him and fucking him over in every way possible.

He’d won. Schneizer had finally won.

Lelouch couldn’t stop from trembling, from staring at the picture as all the shame and guilt he’d been stowing away for more than a decade burst open with one single, metallic click…and for the first time in ten years Lelouch Lamp-, no, Lelouch vi Britannia, felt nothing but smothering, clawing fear.

With his last bit of rationality Lelouch lurched to the side, Suzaku yelling at him to stop, fell to his knees (and wasn’t this how it all started?), braced his hand on the wall and puked.

***

The first thing Lelouch saw when he managed to salvage a bit of his mind was polished mahogany. His damp fingers stuck to the surface as he tried and finally managed to lift his head. The second thing Lelouch registered was the rancid taste inside his mouth and a truly prodigious throb that was almost a headache, but not quite. Lelouch’s face was swelteringly hot, and when he reached up with trembling fingers he found that his eyes were swollen. When he moved them his arms ached, his wrists ached and he could see that the bare flesh was covered in bruises, purple handprints.

He looked at the bruises, not really caring, and accepted the cup of water that a body at his side offered but not the pills in his other hand.

“Take them.”

“Burn in hell.” Lelouch rasped in return.

“They’ll help the pain.”

Lelouch laughed, grinning at the absurdity of Suzaku trying to ease his pain after what he’d gone through to deliberately cause the catalyst that created the various, deliberate aches. Suzaku backed a few steps away, taking the pills with him as he peered down.

“I can recognize sedatives,” But Lelouch didn’t hesitate to gulp the water that would clear the taste in his mouth, his parched throat. He rolled the cool sides of the plastic cup over his face. That helped.

Lelouch began to pull himself together as his body began to recover from…whatever had happened that he needed to recover from. In any case Lelouch knew one thing; he hadn’t said anything cohesive, and hadn’t said anything incriminating because of it.
When Suzaku finally sat across him at the table Lelouch had most of his Britannian self tucked away. Suzaku stared at him with strange eyes as Lelouch excised Lelouch vi Britannia with a neat, mental cut to keep it from the forefront long enough to recover his mother’s gift, the name he loved most. Then, not really seeing the man watching anyways, Lelouch closed his eyes and began rebuilding himself with memories of Nunnaly.

He thought of school, of Millay and Rivalz and all of the people who had been his friends, his trusted companions for an entire four years. They had drifted away. Graduate school had been easy and the other students had hated him for the ease. Internships went as planned…and then the first case with the FBI. Lelouch thought of it for a moment before tucking that away too.

The FBI. Lelouch was flawless at his job, the best, with headhunters knocking on his door and criminals breaking under his ability to understand their devious minds. He helped people. They lived better lives because he was there when they needed him, job or no. Still, Lelouch was bored, slightly disillusioned…but then there was Suzaku.

Suzaku coalesced, from his waiting eyes to the red bruise on his cheekbone, to the way his body was sitting cautiously but not afraid. Suzaku’s hands were hidden from view, on his lap probably. He saw Lelouch looking and exposed them, splayed on the table. Suzaku might as well just come out and said, ‘I’m not going to hurt you’, though it probably wasn’t true.

“If you were going to hurt me you would have done it when I was cuffed,” Lelouch sat back into his comfortable chair and sighed, so tired, “From the look of you, Agent Kururugi, you’re not even going to raise your voice. Calm down.”

Suzaku watched him, still waiting, but didn’t calm. Lelouch was about to assure him that whatever he had done wasn’t going to happen again when Suzaku finally spoke.

“We brought in one of the other psychologists during your…outburst. He said that afterwards you would be yourself again, completely yourself. Is that true?”

“Yes, it’s true,” Lelouch looked over at the reflective mirror and added, “Also, it was a lucky guess.”

“Then if you are you, and I am me,” Suzaku’s eyes turned stern, filled with the same rage and hate, “We’re going to finish this interrogation and discuss how you might be able to keep yourself out of a maximum security facility.”

Maximum security facility…now that Lelouch knew what evidence they had on him those were just words, nothing to be frightened of when reality was so close to crashing down on him. The present was far more terrifying than Suzaku’s proposed future. Lelouch nodded and decided to set the stage himself, it was his drama after all.

“That’s reasonable. Give me my clothing, cuff me, and return me to the other interrogation room. Consistency is in the details.” Suzaku stood and walked towards the door with a truly impressive scowl, and Lelouch added, “Don’t forget the file.”

Lelouch felt a cruel but fond satisfaction when Suzaku stumbled.

***

He’d lied when he said he was the same person. There was a new iron will in Lelouch’s heart, ruthless and goal oriented. Even while he smiled a little at Suzaku, cuffs dragging against the exposed photograph, he was planning the best way to destroy his brother. Suzaku wasn’t stupid, and there was evidence that he could feel the change unconsciously as his forearms tensed in readiness.

It was amazing to see the man with new eyes and old memories. Suzaku was vibrant, full of righteous rage, and because of Lelouch’s iron resolve Suzaku wasn’t going to lose all of the new life they had carefully crafted together.

“Suzaku, you’ve backed me into a corner.” Lelouch smiled and that other part inside himself, that love, made him attempt to save the man from what was coming. “You should get someone less personally involved to do the rest of the interrogation because I’m going to start telling the truth.”

“When hell freezes,” Suzaku pushed forward the picture that inspired a brief, but divine madness in Lelouch. He looked at it again with his new eyes. He saw how easy it would be to thrust a blade up from that kneeling position or how easy it would be for someone to walk up behind Schneizer’s unprotected back as he was busy gloating in satisfaction. Lelouch saw himself as Schneizer had once seen him; a potentially dangerous animal inside the weakness of a child just trying to survive. Lelouch’s continued defiance behind closed doors must have driven Schneizer mad, like some tamed dog that responded perfectly to verbal commands but still insisted on pissing all over the floor.

The real question was why Schneizer even cared.

“I haven’t betrayed the FBI,” Lelouch continued the conversation where it had ended before, “I’m not a mole and I’m not a criminal.”

“Then what are you?” Suzaku tapped Lelouch’s kneeling form in the photo with his lips pressed into an angry line. “Are you his knight?”

Lelouch almost laughed at the absurdity of the idea, but instead he met Suzaku’s glare and returned, “Schneizer will never trust anyone enough to have a knight. He’s incapable of that kind of bond.”

But that was an excellent question, Lelouch thought silently, wondering if Suzaku could see the approval in his eyes. He doubted that any of the other agents in the task force had the imagination to consider that such a scenario might be possible. Suzaku wasn’t finished, but he didn’t have far to go on his quest for the truth.

“Then you’re an honorary Britannian. I doubt a prince of Britannia would ever fuck one of us commoners.”

Again, an excellent statement, a carefully veiled question that Suzaku hoped would prod Lelouch into an emotional response. Anyone else would have given Suzaku what he wanted, but Lelouch only nodded.

“You’re correct. A prince isn’t supposed to have sex with an outsider…but that doesn’t make me an honorary Britannian.” Lelouch began to hurt for Suzaku, to feel honest pity that he had unknowingly been manipulated into following such a path. Lelouch was going to do what he had to, but he’d much rather Todoh bear the burden of truth than Suzaku.

Suzaku was going to deny and deny, and then he was going to cry for a very long time.

“I think ‘fuck’ is the appropriate word for what you two were doing.”

Suzaku had certainly learned at least one thing from Lelouch’s outburst and he was using that knowledge well. Lelouch felt as if he was going to drown in disgrace as Suzaku unknowingly pulled the strings that Schneizer had methodically strung for a single purpose; silence.

For a moment Lelouch was tempted to lie, the magnitude of revealing the truth was almost impossible to conceive. He wondered what the FBI would prefer, a mole or a prince? They would be vocally angry and might even prosecute him for some trumped-up charge in order to mask the fear of what it meant to assault Britannian royalty in the one place he was supposed to be safe.

And Lelouch had felt very safe, but he suspected that this building would be the last to give him such a comfort.

The day had started off so normally that their moment was suddenly surreal, like a vivid nightmare that Lelouch couldn’t wake up from. Just the reminder that Suzaku had seen what went on in that room was horror enough to fill his dreams for a decade.
Lelouch had to relive it all again just to measure the true depth of Suzaku’s disgust. Lelouch had been dressed in his work attire when he took Schneizer down his throat, in a suit he wore to work every few days. Suzaku would have noticed that.

Suzaku had seen Lelouch at his lowest, down in his knees for a man who was almost universally despised. He had seen Lelouch laugh and then let Schneizer fuck his face, had seen how Schneizer had finally held Lelouch’s jaw shut to make sure he swallowed.

Suzaku had seen Lelouch naked and straining, and would have forced himself to watch to the very end to truly understand the depth of Lelouch’s betrayal. And Schneizer, always thorough, would have recorded from more than one angle, and more than one room. That was probably the only reason, in the end, that he had bothered to show Lelouch any care. It explained why he’d been smiling so widely at dinner, nearly grinning at the thought of how someone else was going to see Lelouch how he saw Lelouch during those hours; completely and totally under Schneizer’s control.

Suzaku had seen Lelouch orgasm, had seen Lelouch scream and sweat and clutch Schneizer close, and he’d seen when Schneizer had finally-

“Now you’re going to blush?” Suzaku snorted, crossing his arms with exquisite mockery, “Fine…I suppose if you need to I call it ‘making love’. Does that suit you better, Lamperouge? Does that make what you were doing with him less shameful?”

Suzaku really was an excellent interrogator. Lelouch hunched a little as Suzaku’s insistence forced that night into life, sent him back to brutal sex and even more sordid pleasure. He understood what he was going through emotionally and why his thought process was sagging into extremes, but only in a peripheral academic sense.
Lelouch was too caught up in the irrational loop of what-ifs, blaming games, and simple, undeniable guilt to apply an objective view of the situation and save himself.
Denying Schneizer would have been as simple as not showing up, ignoring his summons. Yet there he was bowing at Schneizer’s feet, the moment solidified on a glossy 9x12 and entirely undeniable.

“No.” Lelouch managed to whisper hoarsely. Anyone would be able to tell that what had happened in that hotel room wasn’t love, not in the least, but it had been consensual sex as far as the video was concerned. Pictures wouldn’t show the nuances of fear or the whispered words, the sugar-coated hate and struggle for dominance.

“Alright, let’s pretend I believe everything you say,” Suzaku tilted his head with narrowed eyes, leaning in too close for a fully successful intimidation effect.
Lelouch’s desperation was making him weak and Suzaku’s glare made him hurt and a little frightened about what was to come.

 “You’re not a knight, you’re not an honorary Britannian, and you’re not his lover…what the hell are you then, but a liar?”

Yes, Lelouch thought…what am I?

“You don’t want to hear this Suzaku.” Lelouch grasped one of Suzaku’s hand gently. The man was too busy watching with disgust to pull away, “Let me help you one last time-”

The fragile hope that had been slowly building was pushed away when Lelouch was pushed away, shattered when Suzaku hissed, “Don’t you ever say my name again.”

Bad cop was out, full force and efficient, but Lelouch’s usual anger response was replaced by resolve and the simple fact that Suzaku would always be too persistent for his own good. With suspects, strangers, patients, tenacity was an admirable quality, but with close companions nothing but sorrow came from digging too deep too quickly.
But Suzaku couldn’t be blamed, he didn’t know that Lelouch had let himself get emotionally entwined. All Suzaku knew was that he was getting an emotional reaction from a man who did his best to appear entirely composed, entirely unattached.

It was Lelouch’s own technique being spat right back at him.

And Suzaku could smell blood.

“Answer me Lamperouge.” Suzaku demanded coldly, standing to lean over for intimidation’s sake, or maybe just natural instinct. A lock of hair fell across his temple, slightly curled and shining in the fluorescent light. Lelouch looked at the confidence, the vibrant emotion that made Suzaku’s eyes so engaging, and cut through his expectations.

“You would have been a wonderful friend,” Lelouch whispered so that the men behind the window couldn’t hear. He whispered remembering how it had felt holding Suzaku, how it had felt to take comfort from giving comfort. Lelouch remembered it and memorized the moment because he knew that it might be the last true comfort that he would ever have. He memorized green eyes.

Lelouch touched the space over Suzaku’s heart and felt the beat. He had only one comfort to give, one statement he hoped that Suzaku would remember when it came time to fight his own demons.

“-and I’ll still love you even after all this.”

 Suzaku’s eyes widened in horror, shock and he jerked away with a hiss. His face went white and for a moment Lelouch was sure Suzaku was about to be sick. Just the thought of any romantic love from Lelouch for him and Suzaku had nearly-

“Not like that,” Lelouch murmured with a defeated sigh, “Though your absolute disgust is well and truly noted.”

Suzaku’s momentary confusion converted into a thunderous rage as he leaned forward and pounded his fist into the table, startling Lelouch backwards as the abruptness took him off guard. Lelouch’s momentary fear seemed to bring Suzaku back to himself as he stared down, eyes blazing and his teeth bared in anger.

“Stop fucking with my head, Lamperouge… If you’re not a knight,” Suzaku’s voice was undeniable, “Not an honorary Britannian, not Schneizer’s lover, then what are you to him?!”

Lelouch pulled every part of himself together and stared Suzaku straight in the eye with reluctant but untouchable resolve…the kind of resolve that was necessary to kill a man.

“I’m his brother.” Lelouch announced calmly. Suzaku didn’t seem to process the statement at once but when understanding dawned he leaned away, shaking his head with a weak noise of astonishment. Todoh’s voice came over the intercom but neither of them paid attention.

“No. Don’t lie to me-” Suzaku grimaced, the whites of his eyes showing as he stood, as he unconsciously tried to remove himself from the truth.

The tape was playing again in both their minds, twisting the previous loathing into true revulsion as Suzaku thought ‘brothers’. Lelouch could see the horror of it in Suzaku’s eyes as he took a step away.

“I was born Lelouch Britannia. I am Emperor Charles’ eleventh son, raised as such and therefore a rightful contender as heir to his empire,” Lelouch never turned his eyes away, keeping every single emotion away from the simple facts. It might be Suzaku’s saving grace. “Lamperouge was my mother’s maiden name. When she was murdered I decided to leave the family to take care of Nunnaly. She would never have been able to thrive in the company of thieves and murderers and I couldn’t bear to watch her have to try.”

Suzaku made a strangled noise, a base denial, and began to shake his head. He was the one who was cornered now, by his emotions and Lelouch’s facts. Lelouch didn’t envy him the deep, trapped feeling of being smothered by the reality.

“The truth is I have no true knowledge of what I am to Schneizer, but I know what I’m not. I’m not a traitor.”

Lelouch exhaled slowly, but didn’t do the damage of displaying sadness or pity. One wrong look would likely tear Suzaku to pieces, and Lelouch wouldn’t be able to be there to help stitch those pieces up.

“It’s clear to me now that our only true bond is the understanding that we’re both going to do our very best to destroy each other. I’m going to win.”

The thought was so sweet, so satisfying that Lelouch looked up and smiled. He could see his own reflection in the black mirror and how that simple curve of lips had turned him into a man that only in his briefest childhood imaginations had he ever wanted to become. Lelouch Lamperouge, eleventh prince, was emphatically and dangerously free.

The words just flowed out, softly and surely as he wondered what the men behind the glass were saying as panic and fear took over their souls. Suzaku was still standing, caught in Lelouch’s first statement and uncomprehending of anything else. It was an odd sight to see a grown man shake like that, to look so childlike, but for a moment Lelouch was far beyond pity.

Lelouch sat back and exhaled, tired and amused at the ending that was so beautifully crafted, as if he’d initiated it himself and rehearsed the scene. He looked at Suzaku, waited until the man had pulled himself into some semblance of coherence and finished.

“Don’t make the mistake of thinking that any of this was your doing, Suzaku.”

Silence reigned as Suzaku finally sagged up against the wall, a hand over his eyes. Lelouch wanted to be there, wanted to provide comfort and give the man something to hold. Lelouch wanted to soothe and whisper and try to keep Suzaku whole. Instead he turned to Todoh who had finally come through the door.

Todoh was pale-faced and grim but he took Lelouch’s handcuffs away with steady hands.
“That disk should never have made it in here. You have a mole.” Then Lelouch took one last look at Suzaku who was still caught up with his own demons. He wasn’t crying.

Lelouch caught Todoh’s eyes as the man was doing the same, his brows furrowed as he watched Suzaku, folded into himself and barely breathing. Lelouch sighed deeply and stood.

“Don’t let him go home or be alone. He’s on suicide watch.” Lelouch murmured quietly, wishing that there was someone else that Suzaku acknowledged as an authority to tell him that everything was salvageable and make him believe the lie.

“Have your new psychologist put him on heavy sedatives and an upper…and for god’s sake,” Lelouch sighed in exhaustion and exasperation, “go take his gun away before he catches on.”

***

After about an hour’s very uncooperative debrief Lelouch finally managed to make it home minus one badge, a parking pass and his higher reasoning capabilities. Dawn had just started to rise as he stood on his own doorstep, staring at the closed door.
What was he going to tell Nunnaly?

After a few minutes the door opened on its own to reveal Sayako and a tower of packed suitcases waiting in the foyer.

“Those won’t be necessary,” Lelouch murmured, nodding at the luggage, “We’re not going anywhere quite yet.”

“As you wish,” She bowed neatly, “I told Nunnaly-sama that you were still at work working on a sudden case.”

“Close enough.” Lelouch sighed, smiling wanly, “How much does she really know, Sayako?”

“She knows enough,” Sayako helped him with his coat, “Should we ever need to leave suddenly she would know to ask questions after we had reached our destination, not before.”

“Should she know more?”

“It may become necessary.”

“Who called you?”

“One of his Majesty’s knights informed me of your exposure. The young man was very upset and sends his apologies. He wishes to know how you would like to handle the situation.”

“Young man?” Lelouch kicked the door closed behind himself, frowning. Lelouch already had a few suspects in mind for the leak but none of them had been young, and none of them would be likely to apologize.

“Yes, Lelouch-sama.” Sayako nodded, “May I suggest you continue your planning session when you are more rested?”

Lelouch nodded. If Sayako was anything she was capable and had never given bad advice.
He trudged to his bedroom, trying to be as quiet as possible but a small voice still called out. Nunnaly asked if he was alright, if there was anything she could do, and all Lelouch wanted to do was walk in and let her hold him. Lelouch wanted comfort…but more than comfort, Lelouch wanted Schneizer dead.

Lelouch ignored his sister’s voice and locked the door behind him.

It came as no surprise that he couldn’t fall asleep.

***

“So this is where you live, huh?” Kallen looked up and down the street like it was a rancid back alley. “I expected something bigger…but shit, a maid? What the hell kind of messes do you need a maid for?”

Agent Weinberg smiled widely as his partner made a point of spitting on Lelouch’s welcome matt.

“We’d like to come inside, Dr. Lamperouge.” It was eerie how close his and Suzaku’s ‘nice guy’ smiles were, especially since Weinberg’s didn’t seem to be faked. “Would that be alright?”

Lelouch leaned against the door frame, crossed his arms and stared. The birds chirped, cars drove by as his neighbors went to work, children made high chattering, screeching noises at the bus stop and Lelouch didn’t even bat an eye. By the time that the school bus had driven away he was still in the same position watching as Agent Weinberg began to fidget and Agent Stadtfield’s vocabulary degraded from her usual pleasantries, but Lelouch didn’t say a single word.

“Are you fucking serious?” Kallen rolled her eyes and flashed a piece of paper, “…look, we’re coming in. Get the fuck out of the way so we can search your house for shit.”

Lelouch stood up straight, uncrossed his arms and murmured, “You take one step inside this house and I’ll kill you.”

Kallen stared at him for a second and then burst into laughter, taking an aggressive step forward to push her partner out of the way. Weinberg had gone very pale and his smile had dissolved into worry. He put a hand up to keep her away but Kallen just shrugged it off.

“That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard all-”

Lelouch extended his arm and put the muzzle of his .45 flush against her forehead.

When he clicked the safety off Kallen stopped laughing.

“Please don’t.” Weinberg whispered, his hands up and exposed. Any hint of a smile was gone from his face and he wasn’t going for his own weapon. His partner was in a similar state, her eyes flicking up to the gun and back to Lelouch’s eyes every few seconds as she tried to decide what to do. It was easy to watch her like that, but there wasn’t any sort of power rush, not that Lelouch had expected one. The one thing he did revel in was that fact that he was unafraid of pulling the trigger.

“You…” Kallen swallowed, staring, and the tenor of her voice shifted, “…you would, wouldn’t you?”

Lelouch nodded a little, just as a confirmation not an act of intimidation but the knowledge seemed to work both ways because Kallen, who always seemed to have a buzz of energy about her, went very still. She had good instincts and Lelouch had been pushed too hard too quickly. If the FBI thought that overwhelming him would make him weak they were very, very wrong.

The interesting thing was Weinberg. They’d interacted casually during a quarterly checkup but not in any extensive way, they were still basically strangers, but from the moment Lelouch had made the threat Weinberg had been in a posture of surrender. Logically, from what he knew about Lelouch the man should have displayed disbelief, not submission. Instead he seemed absolutely certain that Lelouch had the nerve to pull the trigger and would do so if unduly provoked.

“There are two then.” Lelouch said softly, his eyes on the man.

Weinberg flushed a little and Kallen said, “Yeah, Lamperouge…we’re partners. We come in pairs.”

“Kallen. Shut up.” Gino said, breathless. His hands trembled slightly, but he nodded before lowering his eyes to the ground and inclining his head as slowly and unobtrusively as possible. Luckily Kallen was too concerned with Lelouch’s gun to even catch a glimpse of the bow.

Instead Kallen took a chance.

“Look. I’m sorry for being rude…that’s what this is about, right?” She exhaled shakily and established firm eye contact, “Suzaku told me not to be rude.”

Lelouch returned the eye contact and smiled his new smile, the one Schneizer had made, and Kallen stopped breathing. He didn’t like being reminded of Suzaku.

“You should have listened to him.” Despite her attitude Lelouch liked Kallen, and that hadn’t changed, but with Agents like her some things had to be learned the hard way. If it took a gun and near death to make her wary of a Britannian prince then it was breath and time well-wasted.

“I mean it, Lamperouge.” Kallen’s voice was small but steady, her eyes wide, “I’m sorry.”

After a long moment Lelouch nodded to her and Weinberg sighed so deeply he looked close to collapse, his arms dropping to his sides. Still.

“Apology accepted, but you’re still not coming into my house.” Lelouch got ready to pull the gun away, “My sister is entertaining a guest.”

“Okay,” Kallen fidgeted a little, smiled a little ironically, “We can do this on the porch.”

“Alright,” Lelouch agreed, “Take five steps backwards and we’ll talk.”

They did as they were told, both of them regaining a little color as they got further and further away. They finally came to a stop about halfway down the walk, standing stiff-backed and wary. Lelouch felt a little bit sorry for Kallen who had absolutely no idea how deep she had gotten herself into with just an exchange of words.

“Kindly look towards the attic window.” Lelouch advised, nearly smirking at Kallen’s expression of shock as she stared down Sayako’s rifle. Lelouch put his gun down but not away and sat down on the short steps, stretching his legs and resting his tired arm. He was running on about forty-eight hours without any sleep and his body was reminding him of the fact with every progressing minute.

“This is the type of mess my maid cleans up, Agent Stadtfield. Law enforcement officials who come into a Britannian’s home with fake warrants generally leave in bags.”

 No judge in the world would give them a search warrant based on a DVD of two people having sex, Britannian, brothers, or not. Kallen looked back at him and for the first time since they’d met he saw a shadow of respect in her demeanor. She hadn’t given up but she knew when to back down from superior force. Weinberg just knew how to take orders from a superior. It made Lelouch smile a little, he’d interacted with the man a number of times but he’d never suspected a thing. The fact that his father had tapped the goofy, sweet kid for babysitting duty showed excellent taste.

It was about time that the knights had an addition of someone who could pull off a real smile.

Lelouch looked in the man’s eyes and said, “Well done.”

Weinberg blushed. Kallen’s eyebrows shot up and she yelled, “Shit, I thought Todoh was pulling a prank. You’re a prince?”

“What do you want Agent Stadtfield?” Lelouch gestured to the door with his gun, “I have a breakfast date to chaperone.”

Nunnaly had her creepy friend Rolo over and he wanted them to be alone together as little as humanly possible. Now that things had gone rather spectacularly wrong Lelouch had a healthy suspicion of pale, strangely intense kids hanging around the house. Kallen put a hand down her blouse and came back up with a small black chip.

“You wouldn’t mind sticking this on a lamp or something, would you?” She smirked, a hand on her hip, “Someplace where you like to plan your nefarious plots?”

Lelouch really couldn’t help smiling. He was sleep deprived, depressed and homicidal but Kallen was a sobering constant. Despite threatening to blow her brains out only moments before the woman was grinning at him and pulling things out of her underwear while Weinberg just continued to blush, scratching his neck as pride turned into embarrassment. The neighbors from across the street were standing in their doorways and staring with the look of cornered rabbits. Lelouch leaned forward and waved Sayako away feeling very old and even more tired as Kallen’s heels clicked their way up the walk.

“So if the prince thing is true,” Her voice slid into a conversational level, “what about the other rumors?”

Lelouch massaged his forehead and sighed, “I’d have to know what the rumors are before I can confirm or deny, Agent Stadtfield.”

“That you’re some kind of super spy,” Kallen began to tick off her fingers, “you’re plotting to kill the president, you’re under deep cover to do Britannian dirty work-”

Lelouch put a hand up to stop her, and sighed, “I was a psychologist. I didn’t have time to be anything else.”

“I believe you.” She muttered, sitting next to him on the porch. Weinberg just stared down, hands in his pockets as he continued to keep the required distance away. It was a strange dichotomy. Kallen, the wildcard was allowed to get up close and personal while the knight had to stay at least three feet away. Leaning back Kallen showed off the line of her neck, crossing her ankles with a deep sigh.

“I believe you,” She repeated quietly, eyes on the sky, “You look too sad to be lying.”

Lelouch didn’t respond, sad was such an ambiguous word…he just stared across the street, holding the gun loosely in hand while the neighbors cradled phones to their ears.

“Hey…I think they’re calling the cops.” Kallen said, following his eye line. She waved and the couple ducked behind their curtains, then she looked down with a sparkling-eyed hungry look, “Where the hell’d you get that piece? It’s fucking gorgeous.”

It was gorgeous. Lelouch angled his gun in the sun and the mother of pearl on the handle seemed to take an otherworldly shine. Designs swirled in hypnotizing symmetry, and where it could be the metal was silver-plated and still pristine after so many years.

“It was my mother’s.” Lelouch murmured. As a child, distraught over tragedy, he’d been given his mother’s weapon as some kind of odd solace. It had seemed immeasurably heavy at the time but now sitting on his porch and dreaming of war the gun fit in Lelouch’s hand as if it had been tailored to his hold. The only mar on the sheen was a number of tally marks running over the barrel. Even when he was young Lelouch had understood what those scratches meant. He tilted the weapon so that Gino and Kallen could see too. Kallen sucked a breath between her teeth and Gino’s lips twisted into a moment of a smiling respect, envy even if Lelouch was reading him right.

“Fuck, that’s-”

“Thirty-two,” Lelouch gazed at it and ran the pad of his finger over the texture. He didn’t have to mention that it hadn’t been her only weapon.

The deaths…it was only natural. Marianne had been his father’s personal knight and was partly responsible for the man’s image of invincibility. It was a reputation soaked in blood.

Kallen looked up. She seemed half joking and almost eager when she asked, “Any of those notches yours?”

The police finally showed up in a riot of sound and color. A black and white parked in the street at an angle, red lights flashing, sirens blaring and Lelouch muttered, “What do you think?”

She moved to flash her badge and Lelouch said, “Not yet.”

The windows were rolled down, orders were shouted, weapons came out of their holsters and Lelouch, feeling dreamlike and wondering called out a phrase he’d been taught as a child.

“This isn’t your place.” Lelouch said, the past twisting in his mouth. “Find somewhere else to be.”

The effect was the same as it had been so many years before.

The officers instantly became very still, doll-like and the street settled into an unnatural silence as they slowly backed away, nodded their heads respectfully and left. Gino smirked a little, slouching comfortably and Kallen made a small noise, rigid and unbelieving. She didn’t take her eyes away from the spot that the officers had left.

“Jesus.” Kallen whispered, her eyes wide. “Jesus Christ.”

Lelouch put his head in his hands and sighed.

Then, and this time Lelouch laughed, Kallen asked, “Do I smell pancakes?”

***

Lelouch slept curled up in the attic and didn’t dream of Schneizer or lavender or clean linen.

He dreamed of Suzaku.

***

Security did everything but strip-search Lelouch before they even let him enter the foyer. The men that patted him down had odd looks of bemusement on their faces, shrugging a little before instructing him how to move for the metal detecting wand.
Over the years Lelouch had made a point of making small-talk with the security officers as he went through the usual morning and lunch routine of emptying his pockets and putting his briefcase through the scanner. He knew most of them by name and they bought him Christmas presents.

One of them had thought the Agents were playing an early April fools joke when he was ordered to do the full security check-list. It had taken a while to convince him otherwise.

“What the hell is going on?” One of the men murmured as he moved the beeping wand and carefully checked to make sure that Lelouch’s belt buckle was actually a belt buckle and not…whatever they were supposed to be looking for.

“Apparently I’m a spy.” Lelouch said, turning more than a few heads of the people who weren’t already staring at him from the line. One of the four Agents told him to shut up and Lelouch added, “Sorry for the trouble.”

“Sorry about the grope.” One of the guards returned, slipping her fingers through the thin space between his pants and the small of his back. Then she added, grinning and running her hands down his leg, “Actually I’m not sorry. Sorry.”

To the delight of the growing crowd Lelouch blushed.

Special Agent Sugiyama didn’t think it was funny and said so. Lelouch took his coat back with a glare that was mostly smile. The group took their own elevator to his office’s floor and Lelouch said, amused and surrounded by tense men in black suits, “The president must hate this.”

One of them reached into his pocket for a pad of paper and made a note.

It was all ridiculous, completely unnecessary, but when they reached his floor the ridiculousness wasn’t funny any more. All eyes turned to Lelouch as he walked down the hall, conversations stalling as he was stared at by narrow, cold eyes. It was difficult but Lelouch managed to convince himself not to wonder if their hatred was fueled by anger or by fear. Todoh wasn’t the type to run his mouth off and Suzaku probably wasn’t talking to anyone besides himself, but there was still a mole somewhere, an Agent entirely devoted to Schneizer. The only thing Lelouch knew was that the man wasn’t a knight, knights not tied to a single prince or princess belonged to the Emperor and would have told him of the plot immediately.

Lelouch smiled a little wryly as he remembered telling Suzaku, ‘It could be anyone’. All Lelouch knew for sure was that the man was close and very likely tied to the investigation considering that the group had made almost no progress after nearly five months of surveillance. The question gave Lelouch something to think about at least. He didn’t dare ponder war while surrounded by men finely-tuned to the appearance of a man busy plotting.

Unfortunately he continued to come to the same conclusion; to find out who the mole was he’d have to find some way of getting into contact with Todoh or Suzaku. He didn’t even know how the surveillance DVD had made it into their hands, how many people had seen it (a question that made him go cold every time), or if it remained in their possession.

God help the FBI if Lelouch found out that the DVD was being spread around.

He entered the interior of his office as if waking from a dream, stopping up short when he saw that state of his office. He was drawn first to the large clumps of stuffing orbiting long scraps of leather, his couch, and his chair ripped in slashes, also disemboweled. His desk had been separated into chunks, drawers piled on top of thick wooden slabs. Even the surface of the walls had been ripped open, exposing iron beams and stumps of cut wires. The carpet was ripped up and was propped in a tight roll in the corner exposing bare concrete and glue. Even the lights above had been taken apart, leaving huge gaps in the ceiling. Lelouch stared at it all, his heart pounding hard in his chest and his mouth dropped open and his eyes wide in horror. The room looked like a crime scene.

Even after seeing the video, hearing his confession, after putting him through one of the worst experiences in his life, the FBI had nevertheless taken the torment one last step further.

Lelouch understood enough about current technology to know that none of the destruction had been necessary. A simple sweep with a metal detector would have proven that the office was clean. What they’d done they’d done out of spite, a last ‘fuck you’ before they turned him away.

A betrayal for a betrayal, Lelouch realized, spotting that his lamp, a gift from Nunnaly, was in pieces in the corner, its delicate porcelain shattered. His few picture frames were nothing but kindling sitting next to a shining pile of his pens, again in pieces.

Ever since he had given his confession, Suzaku looking on, the world had fallen into a dull haze where nothing, no emotion or ache could really touch him. It was in that moment while surveying the utter destruction of a place that had become a second home that everything rushed forward to coat his body and mind, to become truth and not a half-dream that could be swept away. Lelouch’s wrists began to ache, still deeply bruised, it hurt to move his arms and the horror, the fear and pain of Suzaku and others seeing…the deep confusion that came from being instantly viewed as untrustworthy when he had worked so diligently and earnestly for so many years—

It took everything Lelouch had not to crouch on the ground and sob. As it was he couldn’t stop the cold tears that began to drip down his cheeks and even with his hand over his mouth he couldn’t silence his sudden and painfully loud gasps for breath. Every part of him trembled, every bone, every slipping second of control.

Everything that Lelouch had worked for was gone, everything, even his reputation had been ripped to shreds by uncaring hands.

Lelouch’s entire life was simply gone, but what really hurt was the distrust, the viciousness with which his life had been torn apart, taken from him by people he had trusted and cared for if only peripherally. It was one thing to be fired, it was another thing to have every part of himself that he could be proud of be enthusiastically and mercilessly killed in an entirely public display of disgust and distrust.

Not even Schneizer could be blamed for what had happened in this room.

Lelouch felt a pressure on his arm and yelled, nearly tripping over himself as he swung around in alarm.

Suzaku reached out and Lelouch’s voice trembled, “Don’t touch me,” while he backed away until he was pressed against the bare, splintered beams.

“God-” Suzaku’s face was a mask of sorrow and fear, “God…Lelouch-”

Lelouch slid down to the ground and let his head drop between his knees, in the cradle of his crossed arms, closing his eyes to the sight to the sight of a coffin, built by every person he had trusted.

It was one injury too many; Lelouch finally gave up and handed himself over to anguish and despair. He let his heart break.

And every time Suzaku reached out Lelouch pushed him away.

***

Lelouch wouldn’t leave the room so Todoh had to come to him.

“Who do you want to come get you?” Todoh shifted awkwardly. He had looked at Lelouch once while entering and had reflexively looked away. The semblance of privacy wasn’t comforting. Lelouch had yelled Suzaku out of the room shortly after his collapse as his mind engaged his fight or flight response to deal with the crushing sorrow and irrational fear. The sight of Doctor Lamperouge going into a rage, tears in his eyes, had sent the others out too. Despite their disgust and hatred his reputation did the damage Lelouch needed. None of them had a will stronger that Lelouch Lamperouge, and they knew it too. Lelouch was just better. Lelouch was a prince.

Lelouch’s rage lasted in between the space of driving every staring agent from the room and the slam as he closed and locked his door.

“I should make you get my father.” Lelouch said. His voice was hoarse and parched from crying, but his sharp, vicious loathing made it through clearly. Todoh shifted, put his hands in his pockets and finally looked Lelouch in the eye. What he saw there made him flinch.

It didn’t take Lelouch long to re-learn the shoring power of wrath because wrath, that killing urge, was all he had left.

“You had to make me see this?” Lelouch heard his voice rise to an echo and didn’t care. In that moment he hated so deeply and so completely that he didn’t care about anything at all. He kicked out from his seated position and one of the boxes tipped to the floor. “I should kill you!” He picked up a paper weight that fell out and threw it with enough to shatter the entire thing to pieces. It very nearly hit Todoh. Lelouch didn’t care. “I should kill all of you!”

Todoh’s face turned stern as he put his hands up, as Lelouch picked up the next thing that came to hand and threw that too. The small, but expensive, bottle of scotch he’d been given at his five year anniversary shattered against the wall and the stench of alcohol filled the room.

“Doctor Lamperouge-”

“Fuck you!” Lelouch stood unsteadily, his fingers clawed into the wood. He knew how he must look, insane, his eyes wild and his hair in disarray but the carefully constructed wall between his heart and his anger had been breached in a single moment. Lelouch hated Todoh for it, for killing him and taking that last little defense away. What Schneizer had started Todoh had finished. He pushed the rolled up carpet in Todoh’s direction and it hit hard, making a cloud of dust rise up from the floor. Todoh had to jerk to get out of the way.

At that moment Lelouch wanted nothing but the weight of his mother’s pistol. Instead of pulling a trigger he had to scream. “I didn’t do anything to you!”

“That’s become obvious-” Todoh grimaced, “Calm down. This isn’t like you-”

“What the hell do you know about me?!” Lelouch gestured to the ruined room, “What did all of this tell you?”

Todoh’s lips pressed into a thin line and he stayed silent.

“I kept all your secrets-” Lelouch’s voice finally faltered but volume and his rage didn’t abate. “I listened to your fears and your pains and I fixed it, I fixed everything…I gave everything every time and you people kill me for it?”

“Lamperouge,” Todoh’s voice was carefully even, but forceful all the same, “No one has hurt you.”

 “Oh. Oh, really?” Lelouch hoped everyone was listening, hoped that every single one of them would hurt with the truth, just like he hurt.

Todoh opened his mouth and Lelouch snapped, sharply mocking, “What kind of life will I be able to live branded as a traitor?”

When Todoh couldn’t answer Lelouch walked up closer. “Give me some hope Todoh.  Just one little bit, that’s all I want. Can you do that?”

Todoh looked away, down to the side and didn’t raise his eyes.

Lelouch, trembling, finally got to the meat of the thing, hissing, “What have I got left but your secrets and my family?”

Todoh looked up sharply, wide-eyed in alarm.

Lelouch laughed hard and loud and spiteful. He hadn’t been playacting, Dr. Lamperouge was dead, ripped to shreds along with the office, and Lelouch vi Britannia was entirely and dangerously free.

“They’re going to welcome me back with open arms and every resource of a nation,” The look on Todoh’s face was truly comical in its desperateness, “And there’s nothing that Britannians respect more than righteous fury.”

Todoh shook his head and in his face Lelouch saw true fear, not quite hidden in the sheen of his eyes.

The fear and the inevitable capitulation that would follow soothed Lelouch’s anger. He was in control of himself once more, glaring and picking his coat off the ground as he thought of every way he could make that fear, a startling profit from his utter lack of control, work to his advantage. There was so, so much he could accomplish with adequate fear.

And it was so, so easy.

Lelouch composed himself, running a hand through his hair as Todoh stared, looking as if he was waiting for Lelouch to lunge at him at any moment.

“Who’s the leak?” Lelouch asked in an easy, conversational tone as he wiped the dust from his arms. It had been 48 hours since the incident and Todoh was smart. “Don’t pretend you don’t know.”

Todoh only paused for a moment before saying, “Bradley.”

“Bradley.” Lelouch nodded, held his hand out, “Give me your gun.”

This time Todoh balked, taking a step away. Lelouch gathered the force of his will, of his anger and let it shine from his eyes as he repeated, “Give me your goddamned gun.”

After a moment Todoh reached into his holster and slapped the weight into Lelouch’s hand. Lelouch nodded and turned away, every inch of him a prince as he walked through the door. He left the corpse of what he could have been behind in the destroyed room.
A dozen stares met him as he walked into the hall, but Lelouch was only looking for one face with the weapon in his hand. He looked down the hall, into the outer room, and felt the barest touch on his shoulder. Gino’s eyes were hard, the eyes of a knight, and Lelouch’s satisfaction was instant, his comfort thrilling as he embraced destiny.

“He’s making his way down the hall.” Gino’s voice fit him though the lightness was gone, leaving only a solid obedience in his tone. All Lelouch had to do was nod his head and Gino was running down the hall fast and instantly enough to make the others gasp. They began to shift nervously, to stare and whisper and Lelouch stood in the midst of their regard without a single moment of uneasiness. There was a movement and Lelouch got caught in green eyes, in Suzaku’s pale, tear-stained face as he said, “Don’t do this.”

Lelouch looked at him, felt nothing, and said, “Don’t speak unless you’re spoken to.”

Suzaku’s reaction was not important. Gino rounded the corner pushing Bradley forward with a deep grip in his coat. Lelouch waited patiently, didn’t give one care about the man’s fear or quiet, begging distress. What he was about to do didn’t require any emotion at all. It was simple, clean justice. Bradley fell to his knees and the crowd fell away, widening in a circle. Gino stayed at Lelouch’s side, three steps away and waiting to give aid just as a knight should.

Lelouch made a note: The man was smart enough not to offer to do the dirty work himself. He could see that his prince wanted blood.

Bradley dissolved into a groveling cower but Lelouch kicked his face up, snapping, “Knees.”

When Lelouch was satisfied that the room was quiet, that everyone else was still (Todoh wouldn’t let Lamperouge wouldn’t kill anyone, right?) Lelouch tapped the man’s head with the muzzle and then the base of his neck, near his shoulder blades.

“Either way you’re a messenger.” Lelouch told him, disgust thick in his voice, “but because you’re related I’m going to let you pick.”

Bradley trembled, hyperventilating, but Lelouch waited patiently. It was a hard choice. Finally Bradley gasped, his neck exposed and his eyes on the floor, “I didn’t know what was on the disk,” He said softly, “but I was the carrier. You pick the blow, my Prince.”
Lelouch was not in the mood to be merciful. He handed the gun to Gino, saying, “I don’t have the necessary strength.”

Bradley, to his credit, made no sound. A blow to the neck was more shameful than the bullet and potentially more agonizing, but Gino never faltered. He switched his grip on the gun so that the butt was exposed, holding the muzzle and stepped forward.

The audience finally got a clue, a few yelling protestations of mercy, but they didn’t matter and they didn’t dare come close.

Lelouch said, “Lelouch vi Britannia, eleventh prince, demands satisfaction. Tell your master if you can.”

He made eye contact with Gino and Gino nodded, bringing the gun down hard on the base of Bradley’s neck. The sound of his spine breaking was viciously loud, and cut through the cries of alarm as the man fell face down on the carpet. Gino handed the gun back without pause, checked Bradley’s pulse and respiration before giving the wound another sharp blow with his palm so that the break wouldn’t be clean.

Hopefully, Lelouch thought while looking down on the body, Bradley was simply paralyzed. Sometimes the punishment went right and sometimes it didn’t and the accused died. Either way Schneizer would get the message.

Lelouch was broken, but most emphatically not in the way Schneizer had planned.
Lelouch turned to Todoh, gave the gun into his waiting hand, looked into his cold, wary eyes and said, “Give me an army and I’ll give you Britannia…deny me and I burn this place and everyone in it to the ground.”

Then Lelouch turned to leave, and as he went three agents disengaged from the mob and followed.


***
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