#DamnDamon

Location: Some bar in Mayfair.

Status: open @mobscene-starters​

Turth be told, Damon was torn between two instincts. One was to avoid London - avoid the unproccessed trauma of Amir’s death, and another was to stick closer to his family. So his life had been a never-ending string of flights, one business trip after another, but in-between always going back to London to spend time with his siblings, his niece and his nephew. 

Work, alcohol and women - the usual trifecta of avoiding being left alone with his thoughts had been a constant these past few months, too. Typical Damon.

“I don’t know what Revati put in those Negronis, but they hit different,” he eyed the drink in front of him with interest. “Or perhaps my body has grown immune to them.” Damon hit one of his usual spots after wrapping up a business call. This was the usual routine by now. “Want to try one? It’s on me.” He offered to the person who’d sat down next to him in the bar. 

LOCATION — Building Rooftop DATE — April 2nd, 2023.  STARTER — Closed for @damon-rutherford​​

He wants to be calm about this. 

Level headed and psychoanalytical and tell-me-how-you-feel unflappable.

But they’re on a bloody rooftop for heaven’s sake, and the tiny hairs at the back of his neck are raised in fearful anticipation as he wonders how long Damon’s been sitting up here, with his phone turned off. 

“Damon?…” He doesn’t hide the trepidation in his voice as he approaches his younger brother. He isn’t near the edge per se, but on a rooftop, one is never exactly far from an edge, either. Gideon sets down the crate of beers he’d bought, liquid sympathy no longer seeming like a good idea this far off the ground. “Talk to me.”

Sleep had been absolutely out of question. So had any hopes that even for a second, his thoughts would leave Amir.

Damon had spent what had remained of the night holed up in his penthouse, phone off, drinking himself until he was numb, but the numbness he craved never came. At dawn, he’d wandered off in the streets of Westminster aimlessly, sneaking past the guards who’d dozed off. Self-preservation had been the last thought on his mind.

He had lost count of how long he’d been there, sat on the rooftop, still wearing the clothes from the night before. Unable to find enough energy or strength to find the nearest store that would offer alcohol, Damon threw away the last of the whiskey bottled he’d brought with him and turned on his phone for just a few seconds to message Gideon.

One thing he could always count on in this life is that his siblings would come when he called upon them.

few hours later...

Damon: *dropped pin*

Damon: Can you come?

Gideon: Just heard about what happened last night...

Gideon: I know you were trying to rebuild something there and had hopes for the friendship.

Gideon: He didn't deserve that.

-

“Nice to meet you, Hardon Rutherlong. I’m Handy Girthía. I don’t think we’ve met.”

Henry dropped the act immediately as he grinned widely at the sight of an old friend, one he truly hadn’t seen for too long. “It’s really good to you here, Damon.”

.

“That would’ve been more funny if it wasn’t coming from my sister’s boyfriend...” Damon grimaced, before bursting into a giant smile and giving Henry a hug and a friendly pet on the shoulder. “Good to see you, too, Mate. It’s been too long.”

-

“It’s going very well. I have been looking into adding a bigger food menu. Traditional Turkish dishes with a modern twist. I have a chef in mind and we have been working on them. He should come by some time to try them out.” 

“I like the sound of that, would never turn down the offer to try Turkish food. We should also sit down at some point and discuss that business proposal. Think I might stick around for a bit, so will make some time for that, promise.”

-

Yvonne returned Damon’s smile as their hug broke apart, the frustration she’d been feeling towards her brother earlier evaporating into the air. It wasn’t fair to hold him to a standard he didn’t even know he was being held to, especially considering Yvonne had no intention of ever telling him about her attempts to work her way through the Càvado Kings. But that didn’t stop the warmth from spreading at the fact that her party was enough for Damon to fly across the country for.

“Well, I heard that a punch got thrown, but unfortunately I did not get to see it happen. But the most shocking thing I’ve seen all night is that Gideon has a date. I’ve met her and she seems sweet, but Lara’s going to eat her alive.”

.

As he pulled away from the hug, Damon couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt. The same guilt he’d felt when he was in Porto while Gideon was suffering with everything post-divorce. He shouldn’t have spent last few months holed up in the States, away from his family, but he hoped they understood the turmoil of being around Nora after the break-up and yet not being able to tell her the whole truth. 

Then again, Damon felt gratitude, too. That his family was safe. No one was kidnapped, shot at, attacked or put into hospital past year and tragically, in the Rutherford family that counted as a good year at this point. 

“Ooh, I’m dying to meet this mysterious Amélie. Glad he want with someone sweet though, usually he’s into raging fucking cunts,” as if he’d pass up an opportunity to hate on Katherine-the-Satan-Mayfair. “Guess we’ll have to shield her from Lara until they’ve gone to at least four dates.”

–

“That is a shame. If you see Damon, can you let him know Ayda says hello. I was hoping to see him here.” 

“I’ll let him know. I’m sure he’ll be glad to catch up, and probably ask how the entrepreneurship is coming along?”

Lara: Who the hell is kpop?

-

Yvonne nearly jumped a foot in the air as she turned around at the familiar voice. For a moment she was convinced that she was just hallucinating his presence until she poked him to find very real flesh. Once she confirmed that Damon was in fact standing in front of her,, she smacked his shoulder lightly enough that it wouldn’t bruise, but hard enough that he’d get the message.

“You’re an asshole.”

.

He envoloped her into a giant hug, giant smile on his face. “I know, I know, I’m the worst.”

After the shitty year they’ve all had, it was nice to see his siblings doing better. Yvonne had embraced motherhood, worked hard, and had organised arguably the most important party of the year, Lara had accepted that she deserved happiness with Henry, Adri was jet-setting and building a business empire of her own, Gideon had come out of his shell more... Perhaps Damon wasn’t having the best time - the break-up with Nora had left his heart in shambles - but throwing himself into work was maybe a healthier copying mechanism that the ones he’d turned to before - alcohol and women. 

“So, give me the highlights. What did I miss? Anyone gotten into drunken dramatics yet?”

“No, no, I’m not Damon Rutherford, I’m his pornstar version Hardon Rutherlong.”

When he burst into the main area of the party he was already holding a bottle of champagne in each hand. As much as he wanted to catch up with everyone, he tried to avoid most people he knew socially until he found his siblings and spent time with them, knowing they’d murder him if he did otherwise. Truthfully, he also missed the fuck out of them too.

“Okay, I know I said I could come, but I couldn’t miss your big party.”

Damon appeared quite out of nowhere, not giving any of his siblings a heads up. It was a very last second decision, one that involved postponing an alarming number of meetings, but here he was, fresh off the plane, and straight to the yacht from the airport.

“Missed you, Yv. You’ve done a great job, by the way.”

Damon: Bad news - looks like I'll have to stay in Porto for another month.

Damon: Won't be around for the awards.

Damon: Don't have too much fun without me, assholes.

Damon: Also, proud of your WOTY nom, Yv. ❤️

.

Another glance at the mirror, one palm pushing his hair back. A grimace. “Think I’m gonna need stitches…” It’s grumbled more to himself than to his younger brother. He’ll have everything he needs as soon as he gets back to his place anyway; a set of non-absorbable prolene sutures, some lignocaine, and with any luck, a steady hand.

Steadier than he’s feeling at the moment, anyway. 

‘Gid… I think it’s time you got around the clock security detail, too. ‘

“No.” He answers peevishly, more abruptly than Damon deserves. “Try explaining that one to Nora.” It’s unfair to bring her up like this, or allude to the circumstances that had led to his brother’s break-up from the well-loved nurse, but therein lies the problem. A security detail for a simple surgeon would raise too many questions — even as a Rutherford. “… I’ll be fine.” He adds more gently after a beat. It isn’t the most convincing statement, but he’s eager to change topics.

 “Dunno… Never seen the man before in my life. One of them, Vincenzo, he tried to call him off. Melissa seemed to know that one well enough; says his last name’s Vespucci. Some kind of mafioso leader.” He walks over to the couch, readily eyeing the whiskey Damon’s cracked open. Gideon drops beside him with a heavy sigh.

“What do you know about the Italians?” He asks, reaching for the spare glass. And then, maybe selfishly, “Fuck... I don’t wanna owe my life to Melissa Lin of all people.”

.

His brother taking stock of his injuries made Damon’s head drop even lower. How long would this be the reality of their lives? Tending to wounds - literal and metaphorical. God, he loved his father with his entire heart, but he’d never understand him. “How bad is it? I’ll drive you home, we can talk there, I don’t think I have anything other than a few painkillers here,” Damon looked around his room as if he’d magically discover a new batch of medical supplies.

"It’s necessary, Gid. We’re talking life and death. Next time there might not be Melissa, or anyone else around. Try explaining that to Felix, to...” ‘to me. to our sisters,’ he thought to himself, but didn’t say it out loud. “Besides, Nora isn’t blind to how violent London can be. She had Ethan’s body parts delivered to her doorstep for fuck’s sake.” It was more to convince himself maybe, than just Gideon. There were so many things he needed to explain to Nora, but so many things that kept him from doing so, and hurting her topped that list.

“Vincenzo Vespucci...” Damon repeated in an attempt to jog his memory, but nothing. “Another mafioso leader? Wonderful. We didn’t enough of those running around.” He rolled his eyes. How many people would be pulled into this war? Defeated, Damon handed the glass of whiskey to his brother. He younger Rutherford was still convinced Gideon should’ve gotten a security detail, but he couldn’t help but think of poor Callum, his own bodyguard who died protecting Damon. He’d carry that guilt till the rest of his life, and as much as he didn’t want Gideon to have to do the same, - he’d rather he saw his brother safe and alive.

Damon: I've got obscene amounts of sushi from that place you like and enough dates to supply a small factory.