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for: anyone who loved Ready or Not (2019) and Daniel Le Domas as much as me
UP IN FLAMES (read on AO3)
I am not who you think I am.
Daniel Le Domas is rotten. The image of privilege and wealth and nobility in ruins. The wings were ripped from his back long ago, and he’s been healing backwards since. His wounds are scabs nursed with alcohol. They fall off again, and again, and again, dripping blood on his parent’s oak flooring all the while.
He’s not a good husband (he fell for a woman who’s never loved him back) or a good son (first son, second best), at least not by the standards everyone expects of him. The only thing he’s ever been good at is being Alex’s brother – tonight, even that seems like another failure. He’d let Alex walk away from their family and out of his life so that he’d escape all of this shit, and ultimately accomplished nothing. They were still fucked.
Maybe he should’ve kept Alex close instead. He could have convinced him to marry a social climber (like his wife), not for love but for convenience, and protected him from their father by having him at his side. Instead, he grips the barrel of the gun and stares with drunken, hooded eyes at his brother’s bride, bloodied and broken in the dark of the woods.
So he believes himself when he tells her I am not who you think I am.
He is not brave. He’s a coward. The alcohol doesn’t change that, even if it comes off that way. The alcohol makes him crass and crude. It takes the parts of himself he recognises and stretches them until he’s a caricature of Daniel Le Domas. He’s not the hero of the story, he’s a passive piece of the puzzle just trying to survive. Though, he’s not even sure if it’s worth that anymore. Survival is seeming less and less worth it.
Grace is too good for his family. The moment he met her, he wanted to shout leave. Shake her shoulders and show her the door. Of course, she’s everything Alex deserves, but Alex is too good for the Le Domas’ too. They’re a perfect match. Daniel has too many edges.
He can’t get her laugh out of his head, unabashed and loud, full of attractive charisma. She’s not laughing now. At the wedding ceremony he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her, which he’s certain Charity noticed. Not that his wife cared; if she had any love for him, he’d be converted to a believer. Daniel’s hand starts to feel numb from how tight he’s holding the gun.
“Alex is the one who got out,” he tells her. Grace’s lip trembles, but she maintains a shocking amount of composure for someone who looks half dead. She’s begging for him to spare her life. With her eyes and her mouth. “If anyone was going to save you, it would’ve been him.”
That’s the truth. Alex is the hero, Alex is the good one, Alex is his little brother who he tried so desperately to shelter from the wickedness of their family. The faith Grace seems to have in him makes him feel tenfold more than anything he’s ever experienced with Charity, even if he doesn’t really believe her. Even if she’s just saying it to save her skin.
Of course he flirted with her; she’s fucking beautiful. It was just fun, though, because she belongs with Alex, if she was to ever belong with anyone from their godforsaken family. Daniel Le Domas is just selfish. Selfish for liking the way she’d roll her eyes at him or her cheeks would tinge pink at his comments, and for imagining her on his arm – not his brother’s.
And the rot inside him is too much to bear; he feels the weight of his missing wings. Daniel raises the barrel of the gun and bluntly hits it against Grace’s head before she can say another word in protest. She crumples to the floor. Still breathing.
He stares at her body on the mossy floor, wedding dress in tatters, looking as if she’s a forest nymph asleep atop the leaves. In another life, Daniel would drive her off the estate and far away from here. In another life, he’d be a good husband and a good son and a good brother. Too bad he’s stuck in this one.
“You can come out now,” he calls out to his father, who’s been hiding in the darkness.
“You knew I was here,” Tony remarks, brows raised.
Daniel flashes his father a dry smile, “I’m drunk, I’m not blind.”
Before Tony can pull out the coin from his jacket pocket again, Daniel drops his gun and crouches beside Grace. He scoops her into his arms – bridal style. She seems more delicate than ever in this state, even though he’s well aware of her ferocity, if this night has taught him anything. Whatever his father says next, he doesn’t hear.
I am not who you think I am.
It’s a lie and the truth. Perhaps the person she thinks he is exists somewhere in his psyche, and maybe he’s the one who carries Grace 2 miles back to the house by himself. That man may have existed if not for the night he hid his brother from the violence of their murderous family. He’ll never know.
The darkness is lifting and the pressure on his chest becomes heavier. She still looks like she’s sleeping, and he lingers outside the front door. Mud and blood have dried on her face. Her eyelashes flutter softly against her cheek. He hopes she’s dreaming. No more nightmares.
Before he crosses the threshold, Daniel’s made up his mind.
