Evening was creeping up over Hyderabad. The air was still heavy and humid, but at least the night brought somewhat cooler temperatures along with it. Isaac could do his evening rounds in a simple t-shirt and jeans rather than the sleeveless tank and shorts during the day time.
He’d settled into a nice routine since the Cirque had arrived in the new city. He wasn’t wound as tightly as he had been back in Morocco, spending hour after hour on endless rounds. Or pouring over notes in the security office until Vairea shooed him out and back to his own caravan. He was at ease, settling back into working as a team with both Dante and Nova. Isaac was determined to keep the Cirque safe and prevent what happened to Patric from happening to anyone else, but he was secure in the fact that he wasn’t the only one on the job.
Life wasn’t bad, all things considered. After two years of being on his own with nowhere to go and nowhere to live, he felt as though he’d finally found a home again. He was still getting used to the idea, but it wasn’t altogether a bad thing.
With evening approaching, the Cirque would open in a few hours and Isaac would be back on duty. He had just enough time for a shower and dinner before he met up with the other members of security for a quick briefing before they each started on their own rounds. Shower done, Isaac made his way to the craft services tent.
Dayton also hadn’t expected to find such comfort so quickly. Two years of travel and toil, living hand to mouth. The cirque was a dream. Not only did he have his own little shelter that he hadn’t had to do much for, he had regular food and his newly returned familiar. Even if things were still turbulent in other places, the grounds were large enough that he could avoid the reminders of the past. He wasn’t sure he was yet ready to tackle the feat of indulging his brother about their past transgressions. Every day provided more clarity now that he was out of Eugenia’s grasp and that brought more things into an inevitable focus.
Freshly bathed and donned in that same pair of jeans (the patches had now been covered by Astrid and he thanked the stars for her) and a new shirt, Dayton made his way out to forage for food. Sustenance was important when you couldn’t count reliably on a break.
He had gotten to the tent a bit before Isaac, already fork deep in whatever meal they were serving to the performers and staff. Brown eyes narrowed to slits and his jaw paused mid chew to give his best scowl.
Isaac’s eyes narrowed in return when he spotted Dayton seated at one of the tables inside the tent. He had half a mind to turn around and walk out, but he stopped himself before he did. Isaac was at the Cirque first. This was his home now and he would be damned if he let Dayton run him off for a second time. His eyes narrowed more, almost warning Dayton to stay away, before he made his way over to the buffet table to get his food. When he was done he took a seat across the tent, positioned so he could keep an eye on Dayton.
Had he fur, it likely would’ve bristled up. As it was, Dayton’s muscles tightened up, inevitably making himself appear larger. It helped that also had a few inches on Isaac, although he lacked the same physical strength. Another bite would go into his mouth and he chewed slowly, taking his time to enjoy his meal while keeping his gaze affixed to his brother. Like Isaac, Dayton wasn’t keen on going anywhere and he wanted the other man to be aware regardless of whether that was enunciated in words or simply through gesture.
There was no inclination at all that implied Dayton wanted to sup with Isaac. He planted himself firmly down in his seat and consumed what he could in a casual manner.
Isaac’s glaze didn’t waver either. Was Dayton seriously trying to puff up? Was he trying to look intimidating?! The whole concept was laughable and Isaac would have laughed if he wasn’t so annoyed. Dayton didn’t have a gun to wave around this time. No threat of silver or silver bullets that he could hide behind. Isaac met Dayton’s glare with an unimpressed look. He maintained that eye contact as he took his first bite of food, while at the same time, casually flipping him off.
Dayton’s shoulders rolled back as he noticed that oh so kind gesture. His lips split into something close to irritated amusement and a bark of a sound ejected itself. “Stooping to childish levels now?” A soft series of tutting noises would be coupled with the shake of his head and Dayton went back to eating. His nerves were firing on all cylinders and while they were only a stones throw apart, Isaac had the upper hand. They both knew it. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t petty enough to lorde the fact that Isaac couldn’t touch him over his brother’s head. Cirque rules and all.
Isaac sneered back at Dayton. Memories tickled the back of his mind of happier times. The two of them in the kitchen, being scolded by the Ashcroft’s cook for getting under foot or spoiling their appetites before dinner. Those memories only made Isaac’s scowl deepen.
“I didn’t expect to see you in the crafts services tent,” Isaac bit back. “Decided to lower yourself to the level of the rest of us commoners?”
“Now now,” Dayton murmured, casting his gaze upon his brother again. “You know I love to show myself around with the people.” He knew his place in the world and understood that Isaac did, too, even if that ‘place’ had restructured itself. “It reminds me of my roots.” His fork scraped across his plate on purpose, a jab at that sharp hearing. “It is a bit loud in here, though. And the view isn’t as nice as it was before you came in.”
Isaac understood that place better than most. He knew his place as well. Dayton had been sure to show him exactly where his place was in his life and in the world. It had been a hard and painful lesson, but not one that Isaac would ever forget.
The screech of fork against plate made Isaac visibly wince. Now who was stooping to childish levels? Isaac resisted the urge to rub his ear. “If you don’t like the view, you’re welcome to go somewhere else,” he said as he took a bite of his food.
“I was here first.” Once upon a time that likely would’ve been accompanied with the presentation of his tongue in a taunting manner but his class and once elevated status deterred him from stooping to such levels. Those four words carried a lot behind them in a variety of contexts, but primarily here he was speaking to the idea that the view was bad.
Another scrape of the plate and Dayton kept his hardened gazed focused on Isaac. While there was challenge there, they both knew who would win in any physical altercation.
Dayton may have gotten to the dining tent first, but Isaac had been at the Cirque first. And granted he hadn’t been here as long as some of the others (hardly a moment compared to some) but he’d gotten there before Dayton. The only place to pick him up and give him not just steady work but a home in two years. Isaac’s glare turned icy. “Then look somewhere else.” he said through his teeth.
“No.” Dayton offered Isaac his best smile. “If it bothers you that much, dearest, you know where to find the exit.” He didn’t need a gun this time, either. He popped another bite into his mouth and proceeded to chew even slower as if to solidify his refusal to do anything more than be blatantly annoying. It wasn’t really on purpose; honestly he had been there first and it was Isaac who had started this when Dayton had been trying to enjoy his meal. What was the harm in a bit of casual fun at someone else’s expense?
Isaac bristled at the term dearest, but he didn’t bite back a retort. He didn’t trust himself to say something that he couldn’t take back. They were stuck with each other for the foreseeable future. It was best to just write Dayton off and regard him not as his brother, but as just another member of the Cirque. Dayton had made it clear that even if Eugenia had put him through hell, he was never going to forgive Isaac. He’d already written him off a long time ago, that much was clear.
“Do what you want,” Isaac muttered coldly, turning his attention to his food. “I don’t care.”
The idea of making up was one Dayton had thought about. Eugenia’s poison was less and less each day and while he still didn’t quite trust Isaac, he wasn’t yet ready to dive into the murky waters of their problems. The crafting tent was also the last place he wanted to air out old, dirty laundry. Maybe he needed to hear Isaac’s side of the tale again with unclouded judgment and a fresh set of ears. But they could get there.
“Good! I was starting to think you did.” He did his best to show that he didn’t either, even if he still did. He’d be lying if he denied that it didn’t pain him to see Isaac so hurt…so close and still so far away.
A few bites more and his plate was empty. Without a word, the witch rose from his seat to take care of the plate and trash and then he left the tent without a single word of farewell.