A frown creased Gabriel's brow as he read the text message that had popped up on his screen. In an ideal world, he'd have ignored the ringtone so as not to peeve Camille by checking his phone right in her face; he could tell ignoring her in favor of his phone wouldn't gain him any brownie points—not like he cared, but still.
However, that ringtone belonged to Jake. His brother wasn't the kind to send text messages for no reason, and the farther away he was from his phone, the better he felt. With that said, whenever Jake contacted him, especially through text messages, it was usually for something that required his attention immediately or would require it in the near future. And indeed, considering the content of the text message, it was something he had to be made aware of pronto.
"Is something wrong?" Camille asked, the nervousness making her fidget on the bench. They had both already passed through triage and had relocated to the back of the waiting hall. Masha was still nowhere near in sight, and Gabriel guessed her colleagues or some paperwork was holding her up. There was no way she would willingly leave him alone with that viper.
Although Camille was supposedly here to rekindle her old flame with Masha, she didn't seem to mind her absence much, if she even noticed it, and continued to pester him instead, "You look annoyed."
Gabriel lifted his eyes from his phone, staring at the woman in front of him. She oozed anxiety, scraping the skin on her thumb with her nails and avoiding his gaze. But he pretended not to notice. It wouldn't do to point it out, so he smiled.
"It's nothing. My brother was letting me know about a change in our work schedule for the upcoming week. It's a little annoying since all the paperwork was already done, and now I have to redo it all."
"Your brother? I thought you didn't get along…"
"Well, our relationship got better over time," Gabriel let out an awkward laugh, scratching his cheek as if embarrassed. Because of Camille's relationship with Masha, the three of them hung out quite a lot in their teenage years. Camille might not have been made aware of his cold personality, but she knew a few things about his personal life, the ones he hadn't bothered hiding. Siblings fighting and not getting along wasn't anything new, anyway. Masha had been the weird one for fanning over her little brother back then.
"I mean, from what I heard, he hated your guts."
Gabriel let out another faint laugh, an unfathomable light passing through his deep-green eyes. "Come on, we're grown-up adults now, so we can't keep acting like little kids. Really, we put our childish feud to rest a long time ago."
Unsure how to respond, Camille hummed an affirmative sound. She was an only child, spoiled rotten, and she couldn't understand what exactly a sibling relationship entailed. Gabriel wasn't expecting her to, either. She had never been good at putting herself in other people's shoes. If she had been, she wouldn't have played with Masha's feelings.
"So, what have you been up to lately?" he asked in a gentle tone. His demeanor was relaxed and welcoming, the opposite of Masha's. It was gradually putting Camille at ease, enough for her to regain some semblance of composure, although the nervousness twisting her guts never seemed to fade away completely. It was understandable, considering she was plotting his kidnapping with her uncle's people. He didn't know exactly how Jake learned about that, but he trusted the information nonetheless. His brother wouldn't lie.
It wouldn't be surprising, either. Camille disappeared in the washroom a moment earlier, after the triage, and when she came out, she seemed overly flustered. He hadn't asked questions for fear of offending her—she had fled to the toilet for a urine test, and it didn't seem proper to probe about it. Now, he doubted that the only thing she had done there was peeing in a flask.
Giving her uncle a phone call wouldn't have taken too long, after all.
"Hum, well," Camille laughed awkwardly, rubbing the nape of her neck. She looked uncomfortable, even though Gabriel had opted for a simple, commonplace question old acquaintances often asked. He felt a little exasperated deep down. Just how much did the girl fuck up her life for her to be unable to think of something to bring up in the conversation? What on earth had she been doing lately?
"I've just been drifting around, enjoying my youth to the fullest, y'know?"
So, parties, alcohol, sex, and drugs. Got it.
"What about you?"
"Nothing exciting, I fear…"
It wasn't because Gabriel hated small talk that he was bad at it. He had an annoying chatterbox as his best friend, and Misha tended to blabber for both of them. They made great examples, and conversing came easily to him now.
For the next hour, he responded to Camille's questions with a gentle smile, always politely following along and never appearing to get angry or bothered. He would then bring the conversation back to her, including her in the topic, and tactfully change the subject whenever she appeared too uncomfortable. The back and forth continued until Camille's phone rang, startling her into tensing up. She swiftly opened it up to check out the message, and the blood seemed to drain from her face after reading whatever was on her phone screen.
"Is everything alright?"
"Yeah, of course, why wouldn't it be?" she smiled, although her smile was stretched taut and didn't reach her eyes. "It's just that I've remembered something. I forgot my money in the car, and I'm getting hungry. It's just that, y'know?"
Camille made an effort to appear pitiful, which obviously didn't work on Gabriel. He still pretended to be curious and a bit worried, however, humming to let her know that he was listening. She coughed, most likely annoyed that she had to say it herself.
"It's dark outside," she pointed out, tilting her head toward the glass wall. Night had long fallen, plunging the parking lot into darkness. Because the hospital was currently undergoing renovations to add a new building, some parts of the parking lot were without electricity as many lamps didn't work. "It seems like I left my car in an area without light, and I'm a little scared to go on my own."
Oh, so that was the excuse. Gabriel could have lent her some money and easily weaseled his way out of it. The pretext was far from foolproof, and even if she insisted, he could have found excuses of his own not to come with her. But he didn't.
"Sure," he smiled as he slid a hand in his pocket, turning on his phone and the recorder. "My symptoms aren't that severe, so I probably won't be called for a while, anyway. We have time."
***
"Misha is going to kill him," Jake winced, staring at his phone in disbelief, or more accurately, at the text message his brother had seen fit to send him before doing something incredibly dumb. He didn't know whether he was grateful for it or not.
[I'm going.]
It was a simple sentence, but it carried a heavy weight. Jake thought his brother was more rational than that, and less reckless, too. Or had Misha's impulsiveness rubbed off on him? At least, there was the shared audio recording he could listen to, and he was listening to it, an earplug pushed in his ear. Yeah, right. It didn't do anything for his nerves. His heart was about to leap out of his chest.
"What's wrong?" Tristan asked. He was obediently sitting on the couch, playing a game on his phone. Now that Pierrot was gone, he had turned back into the calm child he knew so well. It had been well over an hour, too, letting him enough time to regain control over his emotional state. Which, anyway, was about to be jeopardized again.
"Can I tell you later?" Jake pinched the bridge of his nose.
"…Bro…"
"Gabriel's done it."
"Done what?"
"He's decided to speed up things and gather evidence firsthand." Jake wanted to bury himself six feet under. Why today, when they finally got some incriminating material in their hands?! Also, it might have been the quickest way, but it was also the most dangerous one. It was something his brother would never allow them to do, yet he went ahead and did it anyway. If he made it back alive, he was in for the scolding of his life—Jake certainly would have done the same in his shoes, but that was another story. "I'm calling Stephan. And you, can you…"
Tristan quickly sprang to action. Jake wouldn't need to tell him twice. Even if he really didn't want to hear Pierrot's voice right now, he couldn't care less anymore. That annoying jerk seemed to know where Camille's uncle was planning to take Gabriel, and whatever he needed to do, he'd make him spill the beans.
Threatening, crying, begging; really, whatever was needed.