Page 67 of The Runaway

“I’m not sure there’s anything we can do,” Antoine said. “I’ve told all the omegas that if they want to get involved in the protests, they should speak to me first. I’m very aware that some of them could be very upset about this, but storming off and joining the protests is a good way to get themselves killed. I’m not saying I have any better solutions right now, but I’ve made the point that they should at least discuss it with the rest of us, if they feel they urgently need to do something about it. Aside from that, I’m basically trying to support Baron Bardet and encourage the neighbourhood to think calmly and rationally, rather than turning the local protests into riots like they’ve done in Paris.”

Gabriel sighed, feeling hollow and wrung out. “Fuck this whole goddamn world to hell,” he muttered. He looked across to Connor, still sitting rigidly on the sofa. “Hey. You okay?”

“No,” Connor said, his voice thin. He looked pale, like he was about to pass out.

Gabriel slid closer to him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and pulling Connor in to lean his head against Gabriel’s chest. “Maybe we should get some whisky in here,” Gabriel suggested, looking over to Antoine. “I think we’re both going to need something strong to cushion the shock.”

If there was anything odd about offering an omega whisky, no one said anything about it. Antoine sent for a bottle and a tray of glasses, and he made no comment whatsoever when Gabriel poured a generous splash into two glasses and handed one to Connor. No doubt Antoine had had questions about their relationship, after the pair of them had spent nearly a week living in a small tent together, and Gabriel figured that this would answer those questions well enough.

???

Late that night, Gabriel woke to a scratching sound on his bedroom door. He tensed, but he’d been sleeping in this room for long enough now that stray noises no longer sent him into a panic. Could it be one of the housekeeping staff attending to some late chores? Or a cat who’d wandered in and got stuck when the front door was closed for the evening?

The sound came again. Gabriel sat up, peering out the window to get an idea of the position of the moon. From the looks of it, it was a little past midnight.

“Gabriel?”

Gabriel’s head snapped around. The voice was soft, but clearly audible in the quiet of the night, and though he couldn’t be sure, he thought it sounded like Connor. He got up and went to the door, but even as he did so, he wondered what the hell Connor would be doing sneaking around outside his bedroom in the small hours of the morning? He’d been distraught after Antoine’s news that afternoon, but a long discussion and a venting session in which they’d called the military bastards every foul name under the sun seemed to have helped. Not that these crises could be solved by so simple a means as swearing about them, but even so.

Gabriel opened the door, recognising Connor’s lean form even in the dark. “Are you all right?” he asked, frowning down at the lad. Connor was dressed, though his feet were bare and his shirt was untucked. He looked Gabriel up and down, and it was only then that Gabriel realised he was wearing nothing but a thin pair of cotton shorts.

“Sorry, did I wake you up?” Connor said, keeping his voice low.

“Not really. I haven’t slept much. Too much on my mind. Is that why you’re here? You can’t sleep?” It was heartening to think that Connor would feel comfortable enough to seek him out, though at the same time, Gabriel was concerned about how today’s news was affecting the omega.

“Kind of, yeah,” Connor said. “I mean, no, I can’t sleep, but that’s not why I’m here. The reason I came was… I’ve been thinking. About the omegas and Paris and the army, and some of the betas who went to protest with them. And how awful it would be to be one of those omegas. And in the end, what it really comes down to is… I want to go to Paris.”

Gabriel frowned at him, still not quite awake. “You want to what?”

“I want to go to Paris. To join the protests.”

Gabriel blinked at him, then rubbed his hand over his eyes. “Okay, come inside. Let’s talk about this,” he said. There was no point waking the rest of the house, and if he was honest with himself, he was stalling for time while he tried to get his head around this. He closed the door then fumbled around for the lamp. He lit it, the flame casting a warm, orange glow over the room.

Gabriel took a seat on the edge of the bed and gestured for Connor to do the same. He did, but it was clear he was agitated, fidgeting and breathing quickly.

“Paris is aminimumof a two day trip by carriage,” Gabriel said, “and that’s if there are no delays or bad weather along the way. And these riots… we’re not talking fist fights and throwing stones. People are going to be using weapons, setting fire to things, the military will have guns. People are going to be killed. Paris on a good day is a cesspool of thievery and violence, and that’s without pouring more fuel all over the fire. It’s going to be violent, bloody mayhem.”

Connor looked him in the eye. “I’ve lived through violent, bloody mayhem almost every day since I presented as an omega. Until I came here, of course. I’ve seen people killed. I’ve seen people being beaten. I’ve seen people on fire. And if the military wants to burn France to the fucking ground, then I’m going to be standing in the middle of the flames, taking their sorry asses down with me.”

???

Connor waited for Gabriel to respond. There was a part of him that was utterly flabbergasted that he’d had the audacity to come shoving his way into Gabriel’s room in the middle of the night. Was he out of his mind? For all Gabriel’s kindness and generosity, this was surely breaching the limits of his good will.

But a fiercer, darker part of him was deeply outraged by the treatment of the omegas in Paris. So outraged that sitting idly by while the world burned was simply not an option.

Gabriel leaned closer and ran a gentle finger down Connor’s cheek. It was only then that he realised he was crying.

“I admire your conviction,” Gabriel said, “but may I ask why you’re so eager to throw yourself into the flames along with everyone else? I’m not judging you or mocking you,” he added, seeing the frown appear on Connor’s face. “I’m trying to understand. How do you decide when it’s time for action, versus when the problem is simply too big for you to solve?”

“Before you bought me, I asked you why you cared what happened to me. You said that if someone can’t defend themselves, then someone else should do it for them. And the omegas in the army can’t defend themselves. And that means we need to go and do it for them.” It was perhaps an overly simplistic explanation, and Connor didn’t quite know why this had gripped him with such fervour. He’d seen plenty of people killed in the past and never felt so strongly about saving them. “Ineedto try and help them,” he said. “That’s all I really know.” He took a shuddering breath, then let it out slowly. “Antoine said that if any of the omegas wanted to do something about what’s happening in Paris, they should talk to him first. But you own me, not Antoine. So I thought I should talk to you. And I know you’re going to say no, because it’s crazy and dangerous and it’s probably going to get me killed, but at least then I can say I asked.”

“You really want to go?” Gabriel said. Shadows played over his face as the lamp flickered, making him seem more dark and dangerous than Connor was used to.

“I really do,” he said in reply.

A long stretch of silence followed. Connor counted his heartbeats, pounding in his chest, a drumbeat marking his fear and hope and anger. When he reached thirty, Gabriel made a ‘hmph’ noise. “Well then,” he said, on the back of a sigh. “I suppose we’re going to Paris, then.”

Connor thought he’d misheard him. “What?”