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[ Seventy-four years is not a long time for them. A blink of the eye, really, in comparison with how long each of them has been alive, especially Andy. But the century draws into its last quarter, Booker alone in exile, and with it comes the loss of their boss. She could only survive so long after she stopped healing, especially with how hard-headed and unwilling to stand down as she was, yet the loss hits everyone hard. Even Nile, who hadn't had nearly as much time with her as the rest of them.

Losing Andy puts so much into perspective that the remaining three opt to lift Booker's exile early, to bring him back into the family and forgive his mistakes. Time, even for them, steals away everything and the longer they spend apart, the harder it becomes to survive. Joe feels it as distinctly as the others, even with Nicky at his side. Their family is incomplete and while they can't fix Andy's loss, they can bring Booker back.

How Joe ends up being the one to speak to him he's uncertain, but it's not difficult to track him down. They've been keeping tabs on him, just in case. However it happened, Joe's standing at the door of his rundown, hole-in-the-wall apartment, knuckles rapping twice against the wood. ]

[ It wouldn't take much to push the door down and tumble inside; Booker's apartment complex isn't exactly built for security. But when you're an immortal with the knowledge of ending someone's life in more than a few dozen ways, security isn't an incredibly high priority. It helps, too, to lay very low — which for these long seventy-something years he has.

For a while Booker traveled a lot (always in cognito), never quite staying in one place, taking odd jobs, finding new bars to drink at, but he kept a space here in Paris for longer than he's ever kept a place when he was with the Old Guard, and here he is when Joe comes knocking.

He hasn't had company in all seventy-four years of his exile, so this ... is a first. Reaching for his pistol, Booker rises from his small kitchenette (glass of scotch half-consumed, old newspapers scattered on the little table) and approaches the door with all of the skepticism that has kept him from capture these long years. The flimsy locks turn with a click and Booker pulls the door open a crack and peers through it. Of all the faces he ever expected to see, Joe's is one of the last. But the familiarity of seeing his old brother again, those familiar eyes, the curls of his hair, the jut of his chin, it all sends an immediate flood of emotions through him.

Seventy-four years is not a long time in the grand scheme of things, but when you're alone, time can pass so slowly. ]

Quois —

[ Knowing that he will be coming face-to-face with his brother, the one who betrayed the entire family out of desperation, is one thing but to actually see Booker in the flesh as he opens the door... It's a good thing Joe's had centuries to learn how to school his features, to keep a poker face when needed. (Though he has no doubt the other man will notice the slight tightening of his jaw, the way his lips twitch at the corners. You don't spend lifetimes together and not learn one another's tells.)

And while Joe is a storyteller by nature, tends to use twenty words when three will do, he finds it difficult to find any words now. He's only barely accepted Andy's death. Now he has to break the news to Booker, arguably the closest of them all to her, the one who has spent all this time apart from her. Though it makes no sense, he feels guilt stir in his gut, his anger all those years ago justified but also responsible for their separation.

He drags a hand over his mouth, fingers scratching at the beard before he finally manages to find his voice. ]

Dobbiamo parlare. Posso entrare?

Sì, sì — ovviamente.

[ Yes, yes. Of course.

Booker switches his tongue to match Joe's, swallowing the rest of his French. He steps back, pulls the door open wide enough to let Joe in. There was never any doubt as to whether he would have turned the other man away. In one day, in one year, in a hundred, if Joe or any of the others had wanted to come in, he would let them. He only wishes he'd let them in before.

Booker's flat leaves something to be desired: old newspapers and notes left strewn about; bottles of alcohol, most of them empty, clothes left out and draped over any leftover surface. It's the den of someone who has long since given up, but it's a roof over his head and a place to keep himself so he can't complain much. Besides which, the rent is cheap.

Still in Italian: ] Sorry about the mess.

[ There are probably a thousand questions turning gears in his mind right now but he keeps them still, mouth forming a tight line to keep them all from spilling out. He knows Joe will explain when he's ready, and if he's come here just to plunge a knife through him, well — he can't argue that either. It is still within Joe's right to, after everything Booker did. ]

[ In part because of years of training, of keeping an eye on his surroundings, but mostly out of curiosity to see how Booker's been living, Joe takes his time surveying the apartment. He doesn't bother hiding it, either; Booker would do the same, were the situation reversed. The state of the place isn't terribly surprising yet still makes that knot of guilt twist harder inside of him, leaving him frowning as he finally turns to the other man.

This is so much harder than he'd anticipated. Nile might have been a better messenger. Even in the few hours when they'd first met her, all those years ago, she had a way with Booker that mirrored Andy's almost, a connection that he could imagine only would've solidified and strengthened in the past seventy some-odd years. But maybe that's why Nicky and pushed for Joe — that and the fact that Nile was still new, still mostly a stranger to the man in front of him.

Letting out a harsh exhale through his nose, Joe nods in the direction of the shabby couch. And, still in Italian as well because it feels easier, somehow: ] You should sit.

Edited (typo!!) 2020-11-01 23:45 (UTC)

OPEN POST — gen.

joe.

idk what this is but here you go

i love this very much ;;

good, i'm so glad! 💖 also trying hover text for the italian.

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