Chaz was sitting at his desk with a cup of cold coffee sitting absently in his hands.  It was a pathetically familiar position for him to be in since he and Gale had fought so badly.  At home alone with only his cat for company, Chaz would sit and stare despondently and the drawings he'd done for Gale's home.  Their home, he'd hoped at some point.  Things had been going so well.  They'd fought like couples were wont to do but it hadn't been anything they couldn't work through eventually.  But this one... things had been said on both sides that would be difficult to resolve.   

It had, at some point, occurred to him that Gale had only said those things because he was pushing Chaz away on purpose.  For his own good, as the dark man had suggested.  That knowledge, or suspicion, did very little to assuage the hurt he'd felt at being called out on his inability to provide for himself, much less provide for his boyfriend.  He'd thought about it many times, in situations just like this, sitting over his unfinished plans for their life together.  It's why he'd swallowed his pride and finally applied for a job he knew he could get.  No more trying (and failing) to work for himself.  He had a new job working for a small historical preservation company that wouldn't inspire his creativity but would at least help him put food on the table.  He'd start on Monday. 

Chaz rubbed a finger along one of the pencil lines he'd drawn in.  It was a fireplace, large enough to hold a roaring fire, connected to the Floo network.  He could picture it in his head, the stone of the chimney radiating warmth as he and Gale curled up with one another on the couch.  They could drink their coffee and sit around naked in each other's arms because the fire would heat their home entirely and the rest could be taken care of by body heat and their ability to be close to one another. 

His hands trembled with the desire to pet his lover's skin.  He had to put the cup of forgotten coffee down before he spilled it all over his lap.  A little bit of tan liquid sloshed of the edge and left a rippling mark on the paper.  Chaz cursed and grabbed a rag he normally used for cleaning his hands of graphite and used it to blot up the excess coffee.  He stared at the mark forlornly, considering the possibility of magicking it away.  But no, he decided.  They were flawed and it was no use trying to make it disappear.

Big events were unfolding, the sort that tied up too much of his time. He had wanted to do this much earlier than it was, and it wasn't until he saw his boy's ragged exterior was he reminded to even make amends. Gale had been keeping to himself mostly, only coming into the city to spend the night in a little dumpy motel just to be free from the castle. It hurt his father greatly to see, knowing that even after their talk Gale did his best to protect Chaz, that he was serious about leaving him. He was suffering, and no matter what came between them Jean-Luc would forever wish to only ever make his boy happy.

Dressed to the nine's Jean-Luc was going to get his evening started early, but had a few places to stop first. Number one on his list as Chester, and if he had to he'd drag the boy out with him. But for now he settled to stand at his door, a shadow on the wood, and gave a heavy handed knock. Never the sort to let a fortress stand between he and his desire for something Jean-Luc tried the knob. If it was unlocked he would simply walk in, if not he would wait.

Chaz's head whipped around when a knock sounded upon the wood of the door.  No one came to visit him.  No one except Gale, of course.  For a moment Chaz's heart beat a little faster with the hope that maybe it was his lover come to apologize so they could begin to make amends.  It was Friday, though, he realized eventually.  Friday meant that Gale would still be at school and not on his stoop looking to make up.

The doorknob rattled as though someone were trying to come in.  It was locked, thankfully but who on Earth would be trying to get into his flat?  Chaz sighed and stood up.  With a wave of his wand, he spelled the door transparent on his side so he could see who his visitor was without being seen himself.  Every muscle in his body stiffened when he caught sight of the menacing and familiar visage. 

What in the name of Merlin was he doing here?  With a deep, shuddering exhale, he ended the spell on the door and reached for the doorknob.  His grip on the brass was the only thing keeping his hand from shaking.  The other, of course, was clenched warily around his wand.  He left it hanging at his side but he was cautious still.  The door swung open.  Chaz regarded the man coldly and finally asked rudely, "What do you want?"

The greeting was still rather more polite than he expected, and Jean-Luc cast a thin little smirk at the boy. "I have many things that I want, Mr. Lawrence, but I do not think even you can help me with those." Without so much as a look over the boy's shoulder he raised his brows in question of the moment, "Won't you invite me in?"

Chaz had a small little space, but Jean-Luc could see it's appeal. The fire was warm, the cat was there--cat's with their fur, and it seemed just right for the two of them. Nightingale wasn't far from here, a few blocks over to be exact, and he knew his boy didn't do that on accident.

"I want to speak to you about my son, Chester. I can not stand to see him like this, and I wish to make it right." A possible trap, he knew, and Jean-Luc glanced down at the other man's hand in amusement at the wand. Oh he truly was rather precious wasn't he?

"Won't you go apologize to him?"

Chaz frowned at the tiny amount of information let slip about Gale's current state of mind.  That Gale's father was concerned enough about his health to actually come here and try to make amends, well.... Chaz wasn't sure what exactly that meant but he was sure that it was serious.  Didn't make him feel any better though. 

"Gale made his opinion on the matter perfectly clear," Chaz replied tersely, making no move to allow the man entry into his home.  "I don't really think it's my obligation to apologize given the fact that he started it." 

It was entirely true.  Wet, cold, and shaken, Chaz had returned home without his shoes or his coat after having been accosted on the street only to find his lover turned against him.  The excuse for anger was Chaz's tendency to just roll over in the face of confrontation, which he resented on the basis of complete untruth.  And everything was all this man's fault.  "If you had just invited me for coffee instead of jumping me in the street, we wouldn't even be in this position," he added irately.

The amusement flushed from Jean-Luc's face like a diamond cracking glass. His dark eyes settled in on the boy with ire and irritation, looking down on him as his judgement tore apart Chester's mind. He removed an image from his jacket pocket, the animation on it hard to make out at first. Gale's window, inside the hotel that he was staying, curled into a heap of fabric that was clearly Chaz's coat. His son, with his back to the window sobbing into the fabric, clinging to it as if there were a body inside it. He handed it to the boy.

Gale made his opinion on the matter perfectly clear,...I don't really think it's my obligation to apologize given the fact that he started it.

"Does that look like someone that meant that? Did you not listen to a single word that I told you?" He scolded Chaz like a school boy, the Romani king all but gone from the man and his proper private school mannerism coming forth, "Tell me, during the heat of your argument, did it not pass your mind one time that this wasn't the boy that you loved so dearly speaking to you? His words I assume were cruel and unkind, something I know damn well does not exist in my son." Closing the distance between he and the artist, he filled the door frame like any nightmare that threatened to force it's way in.

"Invite me in."

"Of course it occurred to me," Chaz ground out forcefully.  "I would have been by his side the very next day if I could have."

Chaz left the door and turned into his apartment.  A stack of folded parchment sat on his mantle beside a picture of Gale laughing in the snow.  They were more worn than they ought to have been because Chaz flipped through them at least a couple of times a day, and wondered what Gale had been doing or thinking as he'd turned his owls away.  Chaz picked the stack up angrily and showed it the Gale's father.  He fanned the letters out so the name and address were clear to him.

"I wrote to him for days and he never even read them, just sent the owls back.  I know warmth of Gale's heart, that's why I was so hurt and confused to hear those things.  But if he won't see me I can only assume that there was more truth to his words than either of us would have thought."

Chaz grimaced in self-hatred; he truly was a spineless dog.  He turned and shoved the stack of letters he'd written into the fire.  He watched the edges blacken for a moment before sinking despondently onto his couch.  "Do what you want," he sighed in defeat.  "It's not like you'd listen to me anyway."

Jean-Luc let himself in, the fine Italian leather of his boots striking the surface of the floor quietly as he made his way to the fire to warm. He was a decadent man, one nearly always put together. Fingers with rings, hair oil black and falling past his shoulders perfectly, his skin seemed to glow from the inside out, and he carried himself like a king. The Illusionist, carried his age well, he wore it like badge of honor, and the few little strands of silver white in his hair gave him his rank like the cords of a soldier. It was easy to see that in his prime he had been a force to be reckoned with, the perfect suitor to any sophisticated family, and very much the  center of attention no matter where he went. In his days before the circus, long before the caravans he had been a politician, a young lord that never had to worry about money and used his families wealth to excel in nearly ever subject.

"Do not be so harsh on yourself, nor on me. The boy carries far too much guilt for one so small." While at the fire Jean-Luc picked up the picture of Gale in the snow, amused very much at the portrait, and turned to admire it still.

"Look here," He said reaching into his break pocket and pulling out a watch to flip open the case. A very worn and very little picture revealed itself of a very small boy and a very sweet looking dog, "We were in Russia." Suddenly, feeling very worn Jean-Luc took a seat by the fire, allowing Chaz a few moments with his watch before putting it back in his pocket, and holding onto the more recent picture.

"I feel very responsible for this, Chester, just so you are aware. But it would have happened eventually. I am not the bigger fish, I am afraid. He will not see me either, and this is why I have come to you." He motioned for the boy to settle a bit more on the couch,

"There isn't truth to anything he said, but you have a lot to learn about our people and of my son if you think he would have given up so easy without more of a fight." Leaning back in the chair he crossed one leg onto the other, "He came to see me right after your fight, just as I predicted. You couldn't keep your mouth shut could you?" With a small sigh he continued,

"Writing him won't do you any good, tell me...Have you ever heard him mention a man named Bishop? Or his son, Arthur?"

Chaz couldn't help but smile at the picture of Gale as a child, so young and happy looking.  It filled him with a bittersweet sorrow that he'd been able to make Gale feel like that too but, for some reason, he now made the man cry.  The surveillance photo in one hand and the pocket watch photo in the other couldn't really be reconciled.  He felt a moment's doubt that he and Gale were all that good for one another if their relationship reduced Gale to a shivering, crying wreck.  He reassured himself that it wasn't their relationship that had done this, but their fight.  Chaz was good for Gale.  The picture that the other man had proved it, didn't it? 

He handed the pocket watch back and lay the surveillance photo face down on the couch beside him so he wouldn't have to look  at it any longer; it broke his heart.  Today was turning out to be quite surreal.  This man was admitting to a great deal by coming here and saying these things.  Chaz grimaced, though, when reprimanded for telling Gale about it at all.  "What did you expect me to do when I came home to him having clearly been robbed?  I had to be honest."

Chaz looked down at his hands.  He'd never heard of a man named Bishop.  In fact, Gale said very little about his past even when he woke up screaming from the nightmares.  He just continued to brush Chaz off, who only wanted to understand, and help if at all possible.  "I wish he felt that he could honest with me too," Chaz confessed quietly.

"I didn't know what to expect from you, it was all a test," He said quietly watching the fire, "I also needed to get his attention. It was never my intention to put such a wedge between you," Jean-Luc cast a glance at Chaz, "I figured you would have known him well enough to know better than to speak the truth. But you are an honest, kind young man, I couldn't have asked for anyone better." The chair, the fire, and now the cat purring at his feet. A perfectly shaped brow lifted at the cat that rubbed against his boot, and he tried to remove it.

With his attention to Chaz once more he studied the boy, the harsh lines of his lips, the stress lines around his eyes, and the fact that maybe he hadn't shaved in a while and his heart went out to the youth across from him. They sat in silence a moment, and Jean-Luc watched as the boy put away the picture and quietly had a little war within himself.

"My dear sweet child," Jean-Luc finally spoke in a quiet, soothing, voice that drifted like the warmth from the fire to meet Chaz's ears, "Do not look so beaten down." He stood to be with the boy, taking his chin into his hand and lifting the frail thing to better see the young man's eyes, "Know that I am truly sorry for the pain my actions have caused, but this is only the beginning."

Chaz stared.  He couldn't help it.  Why in the name of Merlin was this guy being so damn nice all of a sudden?  It was like he was talking to a different person, one who didn't treat him like prey.  Instead he was being treated more like... dare he say it, family?  So quickly it was enough to give him whiplash.  His eyebrows knit together with concern at being once again so out of his depth.

"A test?" he asked flatly.  "To see how I reacted under pressure or what?  To see if I'd sell out my family?"  He meant Gale as much as Eva in this situation given that this man had tried to get Chaz to help him into Hogwarts. 

 "Know that I am truly sorry for the pain my actions have caused, but this is only the beginning."

"The beginning of what?" he asked cautiously.  "The pain?  What do you want from me?  All I want is to get Gale to talk to me again. I'm tired of being so tired.  And tired of being without him."

"No no no, Mon chéri there are things to come that will not have anything to do with you, events that will keep you on your toes. I needed to see how prepared you would be, and how much work I had to do to protect you. A lot I see. Stand up." He ordered with a slight flick of his wrist to gesture for him to follow.

"Your family wants nothing to do with you Chaz. What purpose would I have for them? Your little sister is the only one that even speaks your name. And I do pity you for that, but not as much as I pity them." He put his hand on Chaz's shoulder and squeezed, "But know that you have gained a whole new one. I would take you under my wing and never let you go. Call you my own, if it meant you kept a smile on that boy's face."

Chaz stood when prompted, kind of lost in a daze at hearing the truth laid out so plainly.  So bluntly.  He wasn't certain he appreciated it but wasn't really in the state of mind to say anything about it. Besides, for the moment, this guy was being nice.  Chaz kind of thought it felt too nice and was innately suspicious about it.

He was hit with the sudden realization that he'd might have been informally married at some point.  That was usually what gaining a new family meant, right?  Never let you go, that was an incredibly intimate thing to  say to someone you'd just met... and threatened.  "Wait, what do you mean protect me?  What have I gotten involved in?  What are we going to do now?  I don't even know your name and you're talking about being family... I really don't understand what's happening here."

He looked around his own tiny flat like he didn't even recognize it.  He frowned slightly and looked back at the man.  He couldn't bring himself to shrug off the hand on his shoulder.  He just stood there looking slightly lost.

Jean-Luc was quiet a moment, watching the boy in absolute amazement at how much his son apparently hadn't told him. He shook his head a moment almost wishing to hold his tongue, was it his place to even explain this Chaz? No. But apparently he would be the only one,

"He truly hasn't told you anything has he?" He lifted the young man's chin again, to search his eyes for truth. "Are you sure you even want to know?" The base of his thumb brushed over the line of Chaz's jaw a moment, an affectionate gesture that he often reserved just for those closest to him.

"Let me take you to dinner, come. Get your coat, I'll explain on the way." With a hand to Chaz's shoulder he turned the boy to face the door, "Fill you in on a few little secrets about my little one hmm?"

It didn't escape Chaz's notice that this man still hadn't revealed his name or even some kind of facsimile of a name that Chaz could use in place of 'the strange/creepy/scary man'.  He sighed in defeat and pulled his face away from the uncomfortably intimate caress on his jaw.  He steeped back and regarded the stranger carefully. 

"I want to know but I would rather let Gale tell me himself.  He must have his reasons for keeping things from me and I doubt he'd appreciate it if you told me."  He folded his arms as some kind of an attempt at defense.  He made no move to get his coat and go out because that could be seen as acquiescence.