Chapter 5
Paris 1850
"Sebastien, I know that you have lost your family. It is good to mourn, to cry. Don't bury your emotions. That will cause you to hurt even more. We are here and we won't leave you. I promise."
Apprehending that, Sebastein buried his head in Yusuf's chest and sobbed.
Two days later, he overheard a conversation.
“We cannot stay. We need to go. Joe its…”
“Sebastien wants to stay.”
“I know…I know.”
India 1970s
“I want to go back to Malta, but I don’t know if Booker is okay.”
It had been 100 years since the death of his sons and Sebastien was no better. He longed for love and affection.
And so, Yusuf asked him. “How are you feeling Bastien? We’ll stay if you want us to.”
"I’m alright. The fighting has been brutal. You and Nicky should go to Malta. I'll be fine." He lied. He wanted them to stay so greatly that he would beg. And his eyes did. Begged them to listen to the words he had left unspoken. He was afraid that they would resent him more than they already did. If he asked for more than what they would freely give. So, he tried to use his actions to ask them to stay. Made them their favourite foods. Slept on the couch so they could get the one liveable room. But his actions yielded nothing.
They left. Andy was long gone. He was alone.
Today
“But you have. So many times, even when you said you wouldn’t."
“We always ask if you want us to stay before we leave. You always say no Booker. You never wanted us to stay with you.”
“I could hardly say that I wanted you to stay with me. I knew that you felt that I was weak; I didn’t want to prove it to you. I didn’t want you to resent me”
“I don’t think you are weak. I think that you have been through more than what is fair. We all have, but you never found anyone to spend it with. I think that the reason that Nicky and I found each other was because we needed each other to survive the millennium. Andy was strong enough to live three millennia before finding Quynh, I know that I wouldn’t be strong enough for that. You have survived 200 years, grieving, trying to figure out how to live. You’re the only one of us who has had to do that. You spent 200 years dreaming of a woman who has been drowning and you lied, telling us that the dreams fade. I wouldn’t be able to survive that. On top of that, we did a shit job letting you know that we loved you. That we wanted you in our ranks. Booker, you are many things, you’re not weak or cowardly.
“Book… so believe me when I say that you are wanted. That I do want you with us. That you are cherished. I swear that we will show this to you. We will make you believe that you are one of us. You always have been. We do not begrudge you. We want to know you and be with you even when we aren’t on missions.”
Copley made arrangements for them to stay in Marseille for a while more. Booker did not want to leave. He wasn't sure about what they were doing. What he was sure about was the fact that they would leave him the first chance they got, and so, he was desperate not to get close to them. To not open his heart. He wanted them to stay. He wanted them to leave. He was terrified that if he let them in, it would only hurt more when they unavoidably left.
So he made himself as unhelpful as possible. As disrespectful as possible. Monopolising the bathroom, never clearing up after a meal, secluding himself as much as possible. All of these actions became a daily routine for them all. The rest of them learnt to get up early if they wanted to shower in the morning, and not to expect Booker to clear up after himself or any of them.
The rest of Sebastien's family saw right through him. They knew exactly what he was doing. And they knew that if they failed this unspoken, unacknowledged test that their youngest brother was giving them, any relationship they could have had with him would be lost.
"He doesn't believe us. Not yet. We have failed him spectacularly, now, lets bare with it and hope that he recognises that we aren't going to leave him."
Even though he tried to convince himself that they were definitely going to leave him, he was terrified of the possibility that they would. Afraid that he would be alone once more. He would wake multiply times in the middle of the night, he would wake and he would strain his ears just to hear some noise, some sound that could signify that they had not abandoned him in the dead of night. And every night, he would hear a sound that would reassure him that there was someone there. Reassured, he would fall back asleep, waking at a leisurely time. Until one day. One day in the early morning, he laid in bed, wide awake and he heard nothing.
Leaping out of bed the Frenchman, rushed into the other rooms. No one. There did not seem to be any indication that there was anyone in the house.
Despite his expectance and his preparation, the feeling of abandonment did not crush him any less. He fell to his knees behind the front door and cried. Heartbreakingly. Heart wrenchingly. Agonisingly.
He could not believe that they were so cruel to leave today. His birthday.
He managed to stand through his sobs and he ran to the kitchen. He looked in the cabinets where he knew that Joe had stored the whiskey. Opening a bottle, he drank. Finished half the bottle in one go, a surge of hatred overhauled him.
He had fallen into the trap of their sweet words of faked affection again. Despite his warnings, he had believed that everything would be okay. That they would not let him down again.
He screamed wordlessly. A sound of pure anguish which brought his family to tears as they walked through the front path, with supplies to make this birthday the best birthday Booker had ever had.