#rip roger

The drawing is beautiful - a bird, blue and black. Roger can’t say he’s familiar with the blue bird-of-paradise, but the artist’s work is exquisite. Every moment he notices a new detail in the feathers.

“Sir?” 

Roger turns to see the guide. He was alone for this tour - a virtue of the hour, for one.

“I need to take this call. Our resident artist is just up the stairs, so feel free to head up without me. He doesn’t bite.”

Roger nodded, thanking the guide before starting up the stairs. All of the birds were the work of ‘R.T.’ and he for one was quite eager to meet the skilled artist.

The door was partially open, revealing a studio with a single resident. He was trying to keep his footsteps light so as not to disturb the artist at his work.

Roger wasn’t sure what it was that gave it away. Rudolf’s hair was longer, and it had a soft wave to it, but there was something about him - the way he carried his shoulders, perhaps, that made him unmistakable. 

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The surprised and tense shifting of the man’s feet reached Rudolf a moment before the word did.

“Rudolf.”

He would be lying if he said he had ever imagined this moment, imagined anything from his old life following him here. Carefully, he put his pen down, securing it away from the sketch before turning.

“Roger.” The man before him was older, but unmistakable.

“Rudolf, you’re-” Roger didn’t finish his sentence, instead taking a step forward and reaching his hand out before thinking better and pulling it back. “I thought you were-” A little smile comes to Roger’s face and there are the beginnings of tears pricking at his eyes.

A thousand thoughts flew through Rudolf’s head. A movement at the edge of his vision is surely Michael, but however competent the man is, he is only a man. 

“You’re alive.” Roger does finally manage to finish his statement, his tone one of amazement, of joy.

“So it would seem.” Rudolf keeps his own voice even. 

“Rudolf, why-” Roger still seems to barely believe his own eyes. “Why didn’t you come back? Come home?”

Rudolf doesn't answer that one. His home is with Tod, wherever that might be, and has been for well over a decade.

“Rudolf-” Roger took a step forward. “Oh God, he took you, didn’t he? Kidnapped you. Faked your death so we wouldn’t look.”

Rudolf gives a long blink and tilts his head to the side, raising an eyebrow. Obviously.

“Rudolf, I’ll take you home, get you out of here. You don’t have to be his prisoner.”

Rudolf held up his hands, making a show of the lack of manacles. “This is my home. And who said I was his prisoner?”

“Rudolf-” Roger’s tone shifted. He was starting to understand, then. “What did he do to you?” The man before him wiped what had to have been a tear away.

But Rudolf doesn’t have time to answer before Roger is speaking again, rapidly. Apologies are falling from his lips, and Rudolf lets them. 

It continues for a few minutes, but Rudolf doesn’t begin to relax until he catches the movement in the corner of his eye once more. Michael had acquired backup. They drug and subdue Roger with relative ease, taking the man by complete surprise. Rudolf can see betrayal in his eyes for a moment before he passes out.

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Roger’s head hurts terribly when he comes around, his vision swimming for a few moments before it comes back fully into focus. He’s in an office, though calling it that is almost an insult to the term - the room is huge, with a vast window on one side. It was evening now - the sun was dinner, and he could see a great forest beyond the window. There’s a gag in his mouth and his hands are bound.

Rudolf was looking out of the window, or at least in that direction. He was looking slightly down, not at Tod, who was standing there, facing Rudolf side-on. Tod looked no different than Roger remembered, still almost ethereal. One of his hands was on Rudolf’s shoulder blade, and while he was facing Rudolf, Roger didn’t miss the flicker of Tod’s eyes in his direction or the way the man began to shift, moving around Rudolf until he stood before the young man. Tod’s arms went more completely around Rudolf, looking so gentle but holding him close.

It was so tender that Roger wanted to look away, but he couldn’t. The last he’d seen of them had been that horrific security clip, the one where Tod’s fingers had been digging into Rudolf’s neck, his murderous intentions all too clear. But now - this was anything but that. 

Rudolf raised himself up on his toes, pressing a kiss to the corner of Tod’s lips, and Tod’s hand shifted to the middle of Rudolf’s back even as he began to lead Rudolf away, out of the office.

Tod returned alone, some minutes later. He leaned against the edge of the desk and made a gesture with his fingers. The two men who had been holding Roger the entire time hauled him much closer.

“Roger, Roger Roger. Why did it have to be you?” Tod’s voice was musical. “Rudolf is well, in case you were curious. He’s blossomed without all the stress.”

Tod pauses, regarding Roger coldly before nodding to the two men holding him. One of them pulled on something, and the gag fell from Roger’s mouth.

“He’s not yours.” The words were hoarse.

Tod laughed at that. “Oh? Do you think he’s yours, then?”

Another gesture and Roger is gagged again, the two guards at each of his sides, holding him firmly. Tod picked his way around until he was standing behind Roger, and murmured into his ear.

“He’s been mine since the day I laid eyes on him fifteen years ago.”

Roger could do the math. He’d only known Rudolf after he had started at the prosecutor’s office. And that hadn’t been fifteen years ago. Fifteen years ago, Rudolf wouldn’t have even been in law school. He’d still have been in university, and barely twenty. 

Tod had circled around once more, and he seemed to take great delight as it because clear that Roger understood. So then Rudolf- Rudolf had been the mole. Rudolf had been Tod’s all these years. Always. Tod’s smile is entirely unnerving as he pronounces Roger’s sentence - to be disposed of. The two guards are hauling him away soon enough.

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Rudolf is already half-sleeping when the shift in the air tells him that the door to their bedroom has opened. It’s followed by the faint sound of the door shutting and then by the rustling of clothes.

The bed it dipping soon enough, Tod’s hand going to Rudolf’s hip as he slides into bed, pressing kisses to the little raven on Rudolf’s shoulder blade and then to the back of his neck before he spoons Rudolf completely, nuzzling closer.