My Brother -Alex&Aisha&Max-

[ALEXANDER FORTESCUE]

Alexander wanted to curl up into a very small ball and just disappear.

He hated the scrutinizing stare of his brother. He hated that Max and Aisha had to see him like this, trying to be small and unassuming to please his legal guardian.

A thought boiled up in him in French, a single, radical thought that he bit back in fear and anger.

Je vous déteste, Julius.

His brother's tone just made him angrier, and yet his body language only became more unassuming.

"Ne sois pas bête, Alexandre. Il serait impoli de ne pas leur demander de nous rejoindre. Et nous ne devons pas être impoli."

Alex bowed his head, his eyes turning icy for just a moment as he glared at his shoes before he controlled his anger. "Oui, mon frère aîné." Yes, Older Brother.

He felt Aisha just barely brush his arm, but he only barely noticed what he assumed was a comforting gesture on her part.

"Alexander seems to be being shy." Alex's hands balled into fists. The anger in him, the indignation, was swelling. "We would love for you to join us, for lunch." Alex noticed for the thousandth time that his brother's accent was not as prominent as his own, and he nearly growled. "It would be my treat, of course. In exchange, I hope, for a good conversation amongst friends."

A "good conversation amongst friends. With MAX? That was likely. He stared at the floor and put his every bit of willpower into making himself as small as possible.

Then he felt Julius's hand on his chin, forcing him to meet his eyes, and as much as he tried to look away, those soul-piercing, icy blue eyes demanded his attention, as they had for so many years.

"Etes-vous bien, petit frère?"

Alex was shaking. "Oui, mon frère aîné. Je suis bien." Yes, Elder Brother. I am fine. There was a very soft quavering in his voice. He didn't want Max to see him like this. Under his brother's thumb like a fool. He wasn't stupid, he wasn't, he wasn't...

"Lunch sounds fantastic, Jules. Absolutely fantastic."

Alexander shuddered in horror.

[JULIUS FORTESCUE]

Alexander was lying.

Of that much, Julius was sure. True, the brother's had never seen quite eye to eye. Julius was order, and Alexander was chaos. Julius was grounded, and Alexander was always off somewhere else, his head in the clouds. But they had loved each other. They were all the other had, as far as family went. So... the rage in Alexander's eyes... No. Julius was imagining it. His face was demure, after all. He was just embarrassed. Like any child who had their parents around friends for too long. He thought Julius's dogma was silly. He did not hate Julius.

He couldn't.

Max's voice snapped Julius back too, and his thoughtful expression was replaced with the mask of friendliness. Jules. He had called him Jules. He hated that name. It was made, when the Fortescue brother's were young. Alexander couldn't say Julius. It always came out Jules. And Julius had hated it then, and hated it now. And Julius's gut told him that Max was well aware of this. "Julius, if you don't mind." He corrected, offering a little chuckle. Truly, Julius did not mean to talk to everyone like they were years younger than him. He was just an old soul.

Leading the way to the cafe across the street, Julius's priestly robes fluttered as he walked. His nerves were dancing violently in his gut. He couldn't shake the look in Alexander's eyes, or the strange attraction he felt to Aisha, or the disgust with the company of Max. It was a great discomfort to him. Of course, the Priest told himself, that the look in Alexander's eyes was in his head. The attraction to Aisha was platonic. The disgust with Max's company was simply that he was new, and haughty. And Julius hated new and haughty.

Yes, all was well.

Sitting at the table, he smiled briefly at his lunch-friends, trying to get his nervous gut to finish quaking. Everything was fine. Yes, he simply had to make polite conversation. "So, Alexander, you are friends with Max and Aisha. That's nice." Well, not really. In fact, it irked him to know that Alexander was associated with vagrants, though Aisha did seem repentant."How did you two meet?"

[AISHA]

Max, you god forsaken (heehee) pain in the ass. Aisha projected, desperately hoping that somehow that would telepathically drill into Max's head.

She still didn't like Alex, but she really wanted to grab Max and Alex, and back out of the church very quickly. The different language was making her feel very uncomfortable, and especially the way Alex was. He was shy, but he seemed to have this swagger, like he was okay in his own skin. So to see him try and shrink down around his brother, wasn't okay by her.

Aisha followed ahead of Max and Alex, almost wanting to put a barrier between that strange way that Julius looked at Max, and trying to block Alex from sight. Her long hair swayed on her shoulders, and she added a slight more flourish in her step, adding an innocent smile up towards Julius, looking somewhat like an adoring, lost puppy. If it distracted him from Alex enough for the blonde boy to regain himself, then so be it.

Aisha slid into the seat next to Julius, and swept her hair over her shoulder, exposing her back, her slender, tanned shoulder closest to Julius bare as well. She crossed one tanned, matching leg over the other, smoothing her dress over her thighs, before resting her elbows on her lap, and glanced at Julius when he asked how Alex and Max met.

She was going to keep quiet, and focus more on damage control. Because anything about to come out of Max's mouth, was about to be serious damage.

"Max, sit across from me, yeah?" She offered innocently, a grin on her face. Perfect. Fucking. Kicking range.

[MAXIMUS PETULENGRO]

When one was a vagrant, hypersensitivity was a way of life. Not emotionally, God no. Actually, quite the opposite emotionally. You had to be tough, to make it. You couldn't let things bother you, and you had to savor the little things. But the hypersensitivity that Max possessed was physical. His surroundings. And he felt things in different place.

Aisha's nervousness, Max could feel in his cheeks. They strained his jaw, making him clench it tightly. It wasn't her usual worrying, not at all. She felt what Max felt. There was something off about this guy.

Alex's discomfort was felt in Max's gut. It was stressed, pained. But Max sensed fear... and that was felt more in his chest. On the left side... It made Max want to reach out, and wrap his arms around him, protect him from whatever haunted him.

And the Priest. Max could feel his calculating eyes burn into his skin. It felt like a dull fire, like coals that were still red. Could he sense something considered foul between Max and Alex. Though Max couldn't care less what the rigid Holy man thought of him, the idea that he could be causing Alex troubles did not sit well with him. The man corrected Max on the subject of his name, and Max flashed him a dramatically contrite face, before his tell-tale smirk returned to his face. He wasn't backing down to this prick, no Sir.

Father Julius took the lead, and Max frowned behind him. Aisha followed, and Max nodded at Alex, giving him a brave face. It was a face that they could do this, that Max wasn't going anywhere. That Max wouldn't let anything happen to him. Walking next to his Angel, Max let the back of his hand brush discreetly on the back of Alex's, hoping the touch was a small comfort.

They entered the restaurant, with Julius picking out the table. Control, this guy liked control. Jokes on him. Max instantly determined that if Julius hadn't been such a hardass in Alex's rearing, Alex wouldn't have needed to rebel. Hell, Max might even have to thank the bastard someday. Nodding at Aisha, Max removed his trench coat, his holed and battered layers of shirts fitted snugly on his torso, and sat down across from her. Apart of him wished he could trade seats with Alex, to prevent the staring down he'd receive from Julius, but another part liked that he was in arms reach of the only two people he really gave a damn about in his life.

Julius started in on some 'polite' conversation, and Max's predisposition to hating this man instantly made the word TRAP run through his mind. Looking over at Alex, he waited, ready to come in a aid him if he got too crisscrossed.

[ALEXANDER FORTESCUE]

This was a complete disaster in every way, shape, and form.

There was absolutely no way this could end up good, and Alex felt it, and it terrified him. This was not where he wanted to be. He already disliked church. And Julius wasn't exactly good company. So the idea of these two worlds, the real and the fake, colliding, was terrifying.

But, he wondered to himself, which was real and which was fake?

As he followed the others to the cafe where they would be eating, his mind swirled with unwelcome thoughts. He wanted his life with Max and Aisha and Kiddo to be what was real. He wanted that family, those friends, that home beneath the ground that was all their own. But was that real? Was he just imagining that he was part of that community?

He had Julius's world, after all, as well as his life with the Truands: all buttons buttoned, shirts ironed, church every Sunday, school, work, on-time. But that wasn't his world. That wasn't the world he wanted, and every time he was in it, he felt like a poser. A lying, cheating, stealing poser who didn't belong there.

But Julius's existence was what he was born into. And he still had a foot in both worlds - he still had an apartment, and money from Julius, and he still had to go to school or Julius would kill him. He still went to church, even if he didn't want to, because he wanted that car Julius had promised. Could he live with a foot in both worlds?

He was starting to think he couldn't. He felt so stretched...like a rubber band, with Julius on one side and Max and Aisha and Kiddo on the other. When, he wondered, would he snap?

Taking the seat across from Julius, Alex stared down at his hands, which were fidgeting on the tabletop. He half-hoped Max would grab one of them, but that was too risky in front of Julius.

"So, Alexander, you are friends with Max and Aisha. That's nice."

Julius didn't think it was nice. Alexander could tell. But he had never asked his brother's approval about whom he decided to consort with. He wasn't about to now.

"How did you two meet?"

Shit.

How was he supposed to tell his brother that he'd met Max in the park, and no sooner had they started talking than they were smoking pot and kissing in a tree? Julius had said no drugs, but Alex hadn't really been sticking to that policy.

"Ah..." He bit his lip. "We met in the park. I was going for a walk."

It was a lackluster answer, but it was innocent enough.

[JULIUS FORTESCUE]

The air at the table was tense, Julius could feel it. And that meant his baby brother was hiding something. Probably something to do with that smug little heathen Max, and his dark, piercing, eyes. However, Julius had no proof of any misdeed. No proof of mischief. In fact, Alexander a month or so ago would have thrown quite the fit that Julius was stealing his Sunday morning of sleeping off a hang over further than the Service, especially if he had friends to impress. This indicated that he had either made a change for the better. Or was hiding a change for the much, much, worse. "Ah..." Alexander bit his lip, choosing his words carefully. "We met in the park. I was going for a walk." Julius waited for him to continue, his eyebrow rising when he did not.

A waitress came over, eying Julius's robes and company with a mixture of confusion and wariness, baring four coffee cups and a pot. Julius smiled graciously at her, his eyes still holding the steely glint, though the rest of his face appeared friendly, and nodded, indicating the table around him. He was not sure if they wanted coffee, but it was one of those French staples, he hardly had the thought in his head that they would refuse. Julius Fortescue's eyes went to the Alex's cherub face, almost as if appraising his value at a flea market. "That is all? Simply ran into each other?" Julius's wide smile did not falter as he spoke. "It seems to be missing your... how you say... mutine la nature."

The need for French was unnecessary, in the conversation sense. After all, Julius's English had become so polished with his linguistic talents, that the accent was at times a little hard to trace. Far more polished than Alexander's. And it had been years since Julius had actually forgotten an English variant for a word, though his mind still thought in French. But there was purpose. He wanted to remind his brother, that it was they who were family.

Julius and Alexander Fortescue, the beautiful young Frenchmen who rose above all odds.

Of course, this was romanticize a bit. The boy's parents had left them with a generous amount of money, their homes had never been abusive despite their numbers. But when Alexander had been a little boy, his eyes had looked at Julius with a reverence that the round blue orbs seemed to have lost. Not that the boy had ever been Religious. Never. But he had such a respect... such a love. Where he would want nothing more than to sit on Julius's lap and listen to his brother read stories to him. Allumette, Kpo the Leopard, stuck out in the young Priests mind. The little Prince had been Julius's favorite to read to Alexander, but Alexander's favorite had been Fantômette. And, dutifully, lovingly, despite working to become a Priests diligently, the younger Julius would stop what he was doing, and read to his brother, kissing his crown of golden hair when sleep would take the boy.

That had been a long time ago.

And what now?

Secrets. Lies. Company such as this Max. What did having Max as a friend tell the public about Alexander himself? That he, too, was was a vagrant. Julius shuddered at the thought.

Though Father Julius had no proof, he could feel in his bones that he must save his little brother from this devil. This wolf. Perhaps that was why Aisha had crossed his path. Perhaps he was meant to save the girl as well. God, truly, worked in such mysterious ways. "Come now, there must be more to the story, Alexander. Perhaps what you were doing in the park, or what prompted conversation." Julius pressed on, grinning at Alexander, as he sipped the bitter coffee. "Vous êtes si feutrée, petit frère, je pense que vous avez quelque chose à cacher. Oui?" Though he laughed at this as if it were a great joke (or at least Julius, in his severe disposition, laughing at a joke he found greatly amusing), there was an undertone, as there always was. One that indicated suspicion lacing his interest. One that insisted that Alexander continue on with the story, or else perhaphs Julius would become less cordial.

Perhaps.

[AISHA]

Tension again was causing the muscles between her shoulders to tighten and knot. She nodded at the waitress with a slight smile, when the coffee was poured into a mug that had been set in front of her. Aisha lowered her eyes to put the cream and sugar into her coffee, stirring it as silently as possible. The girl was starting to feel a bit dizzy, and was quickly beginning to think this was a very, very bad idea.

Then there was a line said in French, and the translation echoed in her mind. A woman’s whispers, translating the words so faintly that Aisha couldn’t grasp it. But it couldn’t be good. Aisha’s startling eyes looked at Alexander, and then Max, while she sucked in a small breath. “Me.” She looked up at Julius, snapping back to reality with a bright smile, her hand resting on the priest’s arm. “Max’s little friend ran off with one of my rings, and we stopped to ask Alex if had seen him, since paths must have crossed. Alex was helpful, and there was a…click of sorts. You know what I mean, right?” Aisha continued to smile, her arm sweeping down Julius’ arm, before settling in her lap.

The story was completely out of sorts. But it left room for either Max and Alex to explain how they met, or leave Aisha’s explanation as a decent telling. Aisha put on her Mother Hen hat, so to speak, and she turned herself slightly, angling in towards Julius. “It’s probably not my place, since he’s your brother and all, but aren’t you pushing a bit hard?” She glanced over at Alex, wrinkling her nose with another tiny smile, “Maybe some food should get in his stomach before more pushing, Father Julius?” Aisha almost purred the Priest’s name, and then she tilted her head slightly, and shrugged her tanned shoulders.

“Tell us, what made you decide to be a Priest?” Aisha rested her elbows on the table, and put her chin in her hands, glancing sideways at Max. It was one of the rare moments that Aisha wished they were actual siblings, to be able to share that special mind link. Because all she wanted to do was push the conversation away from Alex, to give the boy a moment to sort himself out. And even to take the conversation down the safest route, because with Max around, nothing ever. Ever went smoothly.

[/center]

[MAXIMUS PETULENGRO]

Maximus Petulengro had a lot of really good qualities. He was handsome, at least an agreeable average of seven on the eyes, though his attractiveness could be inflated by charm. He was talented, able to pick up most instruments in a day if he had the mind to, and nimble in ways that would have made Jack and his motherfucking candlestick jealous like a sonofabitch. He was relaxed, got along easily with most, was intelligent, and bravely faced down danger to the point of recklessness.

If, Dear Reader, you are foreseeing a 'but' in the future, than call yourself Cassandra and spot a wooden horse.

But, Max also had his faults. He was cocky, his swagger bordering on general jack assery many a times. He was far too aware of his cleverness, and loved to show off. He was territorial, prone to jealousy, though GOD FORBID one of his loved ones expressed even the slightest whisper of jealousy themselves. The rules of the universe, set by Max, were made for all but he. He was the exception to any rule, and loved to flaunt it. Perhaps, most irritatingly lovable about the scamp, was that if he felt challenged, he would not back down. Even if it was certain he could not win.

This. Is. Motherfucking. Sparta.

And the way that Padre Julius was speaking to Alex, that hard stare, that sardonic lilt to his voice. Max was challenged. He had warned the Priest, albeit only with his eyes: Don't touch mine, and you get to keep yours. Well, here the creeper Priest was, leaving his holier than thou finger prints all of Max's. And thus, it was on.

Aisha tried gracefully to sway the conversation away from Alex, which Max was grateful for. But, ohho, buddy. It was on, like Donkey Kong. Max glared hard and long into those piercing blue eyes, his smug smirk curled at the edges of his mouth, his own brown eyes not showing the slightest bit of fear. At the suggested topic switch, Max interjected before the Priest could attempt to answer.

Sip your coffee, dickbag.

"Once upon a time, a bro named Jules loved God a whole lot. He became a Priest. The end." Max said, grin rising a little, his eyes flickering around the table. "Now, Sis, don't you think it's rude to not answer J-Boy's question? After all, it isn't like we have anything to hide." There was a tone of mirth to his voice, especially as he made a collection of every informal name he could come up with for Julius. Leaning forward, Max pulled out a pack of cigarettes. They weren't the gross nicotine ones. Those hurt Max's nose, and really didn't taste fantastic. But, if unable to get his alternative smoke on, if one caught the meaning, he would indulge in a Honeyrose Herbal cigarette. It had natural shit in it like rose petals, marshmallow leaves, red clover flowers, honey and apple juice. They smelled pleasant and tasted alright, and simply the action of inhaling smoke was a comfort to Max. As he lit up, he grinned at Julius, preparing to put his story face on.

"It's a pretty cool story, actually, Jules. See, here I was in the park, doing my general religious rituals. I was a practitioner of this thing called Hoodoo. Or Voodoo. One of the Doo's, I did. You might have heard of it- ANYWAY, so there I was-" Max spoke adamantly with his hands, the smoke from his cigarette curling around his fingers gracefully. "-about to sacrifice this pretty little Rhode Island Red hen to Azaka-Tonnerre, when out of no where this blond S.O.B. pounces on me." He grinned at Alex, wink slickly. "Martha Belle- Martha Belle being my chicken- gets away and is all running around Central Park, my fucking prayer beads wrapped around her feather plucked neck, just spazzing the fuck out. And so I look at Alex here, not that I knew his name as Alex at the time, he was sort of 'That dipshit who set my God damn chicken loose' right then, but he starts telling me how I was crazy!" max spoke incredulously, as if this was almost insulting, but carried on in an amused nostalgic tone nonetheless.

He continued, eyes lit up with mischief, well aware of how Aisha was more than likely trying to figure out a way to discreetly knock him one hard in his back up singers. "So I tell him 'I'm the crazy one? Motherfucker, you just jumped on me! My chicken is probably half way to the Bronx now!' and you know what he does?" Max paused, letting the tension build up. "Bastard starts giving me the Good Word, no lie. Informing me on how to save my soul." He nodded, almost gravely, grin never once faltering. "And I gotta say, he sold me on it. I am just... so FILLED with Christ love. You have no idea! Like, I got it oozing out of every fucking orifice at this point. Told him he changed my life and I wanted to give myself over to the cloth." Puffing on his cigarette lightly, he sat back, grin positively gleaming. "Which is why, Padre Julio, he suggested I come to you."

Max let the story hang in the air, his smile friendly, but held himself in such a way that one had to pause and wonder if he was serious. Honestly, even when he was trying to ham it up, Max's natural talent at bold face lying was spec-fucking-tacular. He continued to puff on the cigarette, ashing into his coffee cup saucer casually. The silence seemed to be balancing on edge, as the table waited for Julius to react.

Again, Max beat him to the punch, letting out a thick chortle. "BAHAHAHAHAAHAHA, bro, relax. I'm pulling your dick." A near by table jumped a little, as the inhabitants looked at Max as if he lost his damn mind, with his thick and rich laugh. "No, no, no. I'm a street musician, is all. He came over and asked the name of a song I was singing." Max shrugged, physically telling Julius 'no-big-deal-bro', his dark eyes ventured over to Alex, checking to see how he held up through the tale. "It was Nature Boy, sung by Nat Cole King." The gaze he gave Alex was short, but he tried to communicate through his eyes that Max was not going to let anything happen to him. That Alex was still his Angel. But, they had to be sneakers, and so the gaze was barely a breath long, before Max's turned his gaze back to Julius. "Originally, of course. I suppose Nature Boy, cover sung by Max the shitty street performer would be more accurate, eh?"

[ALEXANDER FORTESCUE]

Alex sat between these three people and listened to them talk at him. Julius, demanding. Aisha, soothing. Max, joking. He heard his brother speak aloud in French, but he barely heard a word of it. He knew that he was expected to say something, but the words did not come to him. He knew that he wanted to laugh at Max’s ridiculous story, which in the back of his mind he knew was hilarious, but he found that the sound, the smile, caught in his throat like a lump of bread.

God, if he weren't so petrified, he would rub it in Aisha's face that she was sticking up for him.

He was normally so full of words. Excuses, complaints, jokes, flirtations. But not today. Today, his vocal chords had frozen, and Alexander could not choke out a single "Oui." It was pathetic, he thought to himself, squeezing his eyes closed.

His hands clenched into fists underneath the table. This wasn’t like him, not like him at all. 95% of the time, he could just shake off something of this nature, flash a devious grin and a sly chuckle and disregard it.

But, again, not today.

Today, he felt like an ant under a magnifying glass, slowly burning to death under the intensified rays of the sun. Julius’s piercing gaze ate away at his resolve. He wanted to crawl away somewhere and just…hide. The embarrassment and shame was building up in his stomach like an oncoming storm, and as he sat there trying to collect himself, he realized he simply couldn’t do this. He was not built for stress. It was not an aspect of his life, and he didn’t know how to deal with it. Call him childish, call him irresponsible, but overall, his life had been easy. This was an unwanted disturbance, and it overrode all his senses.

He wanted to stay with Max. He wouldn’t let Julius take that from him, he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t, this was his life and he would do what he wanted.

But he couldn’t say that to him. Not yet.

With his eyes on the ground, Alex stood up from his seat, his hands shaking subtly. ”I, ah.” He did not look at anyone at the table. ”Ihavetogotothebathroom.”

And with that, he hurried away from the table. He had no idea where the bathroom was in this place, but he’d find it. He needed to be away from this for a while.