By Choice

Notes: So, I found some of chapter 21 written down. I spliced part of it in to expand the conversation with Kidman if you want to go back and re-read that. Nothing else was changed in chapter 21. The rest of the written chunk works much better in a later chapter.

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The studio is right across the street from the hospice.

It's not like there's a whole lot of places in town that'd be far from the hospice. It's not that big of a place. The fact it's right there though pisses him off just a little. Especially if he thinks about Cabrera peeking out through the windows any of the times he's been around.

Sebastian squints at the cheery looking house as he walks up to it slowly. One eye watching for any movement in the windows or yard, and the other looking around the suspiciously empty neighborhood. It's way too quiet today, and that's setting off every alarm he has.

Where's the nosy neighbors? The gossipy, busybodies he had seen so many times before? He doubts his sticking around for so long has made him any less of a novelty for them. Not when it's got to be clear he's working for Ruvik somehow.

The lack of an audience unsettles him, but it makes circling around to the back of the studio to break in easy. There's no one around to ask why he's picking the lock, and that's a rarity in his line of work. He tries to appreciate it even as the hairs on the back of his neck stand up under eyes he knows aren't there.

He almost reaches for his destroyed cell phone on instinct when he gets the door open and steps inside. Calling Joseph or Kidman to let them know where he is in case things go bad has been standard procedure for so long that it takes conscious effort not to do it.

The house is silent and still in a way that only happens when there's no one living in it. It's a familiar feeling from a few of his cases, abandoned homes have a distinct air about them that he can feel. Sebastian still takes it slow going in, because it's always possible to be wrong. His gun is a reassuring weight as he checks each of the sparsely decorated rooms. Not going through drawers or boxes just yet, but looking under the furniture and in the closets.

Any place a body can hide. Living or not.

The kitchen is bare. Lots of boxed foods, but nothing in the fridge which sticks when he opens it and smells like stale air. There's a layer of dust on most things that's thicker in some places than n others. Cobwebs have started taking up the corners of some rooms, and Sebastian nearly walks face first into a big, fat spider that's spun its web across the doorway to the bathroom.

There's nothing out of place that he can see. Nothing strange that he can hear. Not even a bad or musty smell. None of the usual things to validate what his instinct is screaming at him. That he's in a place with a corpse and not just snooping around the home of a guy who took off for an extended cruise.

There's no second floor. Just a little entrance for an attic that he eyes for a minute before moving over to the stairs that go down. The basement is easier to access, and it doesn't look like the trap door in the ceiling has been disturbed in a while going by the dusty cobwebs spanning one corner of it.

The stairs that lead down into the basement are wide and open in a way that he's not used to when dealing with basements. It's probably where the business part of the studio is. He can feel the change in the air almost immediately when going down.

The air isn't as stale or still even though he's going down into nearly complete blackness. It takes his eyes a moment to adjust to the dimness. Dim because as he carefully makes his way down he can see some light. Red light that doesn't illuminate any details, but lets him see the long hallway he's in.

The light comes from the end where there's an open door and what looks like a window in the wall. Sebastian looks at it for a while but the light is steady. There's no flickering or shadows to indicate someone is in the room moving around. He steps up to the outline of a nearby doorway first, but the door opens only a fraction of an inch before sticking. He can feel boards spaced pretty evenly on the other side, and there's a thick grit on his fingers when he pulls them back. A combination of dust and dirt.

He wipes it off on his coat, probably leaving a streak behind and turns his attention all on the room ahead. He slips his gun out, and automatically thumbs off the safety. He counts his footsteps and strains to listen as he approaches. The sound of his own blood running through his veins is all he can hear though as he edges up to the window that's lit up like something from the end of the world.

It's covered with a thin curtain that's seen better days, and through the rips in it he can catch a glimpse of the room behind it. It's clear that the room is larger than he was first thinking, and that there's a few blind areas. There's the hard edge of a corner, a wall that he can't see beyond.

Not the worst place he's had to clear, but he'd had backup for those other ones. Even when the backup had only been a message left on Joseph's phone to bail his ass out if he didn't call back in ten minutes.

The door sounds like a scream when he presses against it, and Sebastian grimaces. There's no hiding he's here so he shoves the door open and wastes no time stepping into the room. He scans it over the sites of his gun, but nothing moves even when the door slams against the wall with a bang. It takes him a while to make any sense out of the mess he's seeing.

The place is set up like a living room. Comfortable and inviting even with the props littering the place and stacked up in the corners. It's the wall though that has his attention and pulls him up short. It's lit up with a small lamp with a regular bulb. The only place that he can see any significant details, and it stops him even as he knows he's got to check behind that doorway in the corner.

The wall is covered in small and large pictures. Familiar places and faces, unfamiliar places and faces. All tacked onto the wall in a mess that almost looks like it should make sense. Like there's a pattern under it that dictates where each one goes.

Ruvik is prominent. His form always still and pale looking, isolated no matter how many other people are in the picture. Sebastian sees a few more pictures of himself in the same style as the ones that had shown up in the mail. They thread through and under the section that's mostly Ruvik, before spilling down to take up a chunk of wall near the floor. New pictures mostly, and quite a few that were clearly taken back in Krimson before this whole mess began. Long before he knew the name Victoriano.

There's even one of Joseph and Kidman together that he can't put a date on, and Sebastian has to check the urge to rip it apart because it brings up another worry for him. He's given Joseph so much shit about Kidman, and pressured the guy to make a move on her. Tried to get them together. Before he knew about her true loyalties, and now...

Now isn't the time to worry about that. It's possible never may be the time.

Sebastian turns away from the pictures. The proof that someone has been hanging out around here is clear from the subjects, but the room isn't secure just yet.

The door in the corner is sectioned off by a curtain, and there's a red spotlight lighting it up. The picture developing room. Sebastian almost relaxes as he turns into it, eyes taking in the overly crowded part hidden from view, until movement near the floor sends his heart racing as he draws down on it. On the person sitting on the floor.

"Leslie," Sebastian sighs and relaxes, pointing his gun down and away from the curled up figure of the boy. His heart still pounds a mile a minute though, because it could very easily not have been the kid. It could have been Cabrera, waiting for Sebastian to stare at his wall of obsession like an idiot. "Fuck kid, what are you doing here? This isn't a safe place for you."

"Safe place, safe place," Leslie repeats as he looks up at Sebastian. Eyes wide open in the dim light, and his hands moving rhythmically. A verbal and physical tic that's probably part of whatever it is that's wrong with him. He doesn't look hurt this time though. The bruise on his face is gone. Faded with time. "No safe place, no safe place, no place. No safe place for you!"

Christ if that isn't the truth. Sebastian holsters his gun and takes the time to make sure the safety strap is in place before crouching down before the kid. He holds one hand out but doesn't touch the kid just yet. Leaves it out as an offering instead. "No kidding, come on. Neither of us should be here right now. Let's get out of here, alright?"

"Alright, alright, alright," Leslie mutters, and maybe he says a few more things. Sebastian can't quite catch them as he shoots up to his feet. Nimble and spry like anyone his age should be. He shuffles away and pauses to watch Sebastian push his way to his feet with some effort. "Go? Can we go to the train and go home?"

"Sure," Sebastian cautiously places a hand on the kids back, and doesn't get his face punched in for it. It's happened before when he found a missing kid with some mental problems. One of which made him very violent when people got touchy feely with him. Not the worst problem to have but he's always been careful since then to take things slowly in cases like this. "Whatever train you want kid."

Leslie is relaxed enough to go whatever direction Sebastian pushes him in. Happy going by the small smile on his face, and the soft humming that's occasionally interrupted by single words about trains. Sebastian almost feel guilty about the fact that the only train in the kid's future is probably going to be that magazine, but this place is not safe for the kid to hang around in.

Cabrera isn't here now, but Sebastian doesn't think that matters much at the moment. He glances back as they leave the room and a large storage freezer he hadn't noticed until they were leaving. Covered by a carelessly tossed sheet, and ominous because it's the newest looking thing in the room and he doubts the old man who owns the place bought it himself. "Let's go, kid."

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"Leslie!" If Valerio is the least bit apprehensive about seeing Sebastian it all disappears under the relief he shows as he moves surprisingly quickly for a guy his size. "We were all so worried, Leslie! Where have you been?"

"Across the street," Sebastian answers as Leslie does nothing but stare at his own hands. There's no nervousness there, but there's also no acknowledgement of where he is either. The humming had stopped when they left the studio and he's been mostly silent. "I found him in the photographer's house when I went to go ask about something."

"Renard? But he's been gone on a trip to England since May," Valerio pats at Leslie. Gentle, careful gestures that look to be a combination of reassuring and checking at the same time. "How on Earth did he get in there?"

"The door was open," Sebastian lies and wonders how the hell the kid did get in. Nothing was opened or unlocked when he cased the place out. "I thought it was kind of weird so..."

"Oh, Leslie," Valerio sighs, accepting the load of bullshit at face value. He fusses over the kid a bit, and generally gives off the impression of an overly distracted father. A heartwarming image that Sebastian can't quite fully buy into for all that is seems genuine in this case. "You know Mr. Renard is a very busy man. He can't play with you like he used to, alright? Especially not when he's gone away!"

"Gone away, gone, gone, gone," Leslie says softly. Mournfully. It sends creeping fingers of dread up Sebastian's spine.

"How long ago did Mr. Renard say he was leaving for?" Sebastian asks.

"Oh, about five or six months, I suppose," Valerio blinks and looks over at Sebastian as if he had no idea who he was talking to the whole time. "I'm not really sure. He sent a note over but I don't exactly recall what it said. Was there something you needed, Detective?"

There's a questioning note in his voice that Sebastian's pretty sure is more for the title than anything else. Sebastian ignores it and takes a step back out the door he came in. "Nothing that can't wait. Just something about some pictures that came from his studio. Thought now would be a good time to catch him since the town is so quiet, but obviously that's not possible."

"Well it is Sunday, Detective," Valerio says patiently, eyes already straying back to Leslie. "Most of the people are at church."

News to Sebastian, but his heads been so fucked up that he's probably lucky he knows it's daytime. "Really? Even with the Pastor missing? It looked like they'd locked the church up."

"You've been to the church?" That gets him Valerio's gaze again. Surprised and more than just a touch wary this time. "The presence of a man of god has never been a deterrent to the people of the town. They are very religious as a rule, and will attend to their prayers despite not having someone to lead them."

There's a hesitation around certain phrases that makes it clear that Valerio doesn't consider himself one of the religious sort. It's the kind of careful wording a man uses to not incite an argument about religion. Odd that he's using it just to talk in general about the church. A hidden pillar of the community, that promises some really odd things to its faithful. Sebastian remembers what Ruvik said about the church and he's starting to think it might not have all been just bullshit.

Sebastian reaches in for his pack of cigarettes and twirls it around a bit before shaking one out. He doesn't reach for his lighter, just twirls it around his fingers like he's going to light up as soon as he's out the door. A relaxes and, hopefully, nonthreatening gesture. "Ruben," it takes effort to say the name now that he has the real one etched into his mind, "showed it to me. His parents were devout supporters I'm told. Not so much for him. Can't blame him, I'm not the type to put much stock in stories."

"No," there's an easing in Valerio. A touch of fondness as well as tiredness entering him. "Ruben has always been a man of science, and our kind don't exactly mesh well with religious doctrine," Valerio turns his head in a not very subtle gesture of checking out who is in hearing range. "Especially not the more, ah, irrational ones."

"You mean more irrational than usual?" Sebastian quips and is rewarded with a wry smile from Valerio. "Ruben said some things about immortality or something. You telling me that's true?"

"Yes, quite true I'm afraid. Well, I'm sure that he knows far better than I what goes on there," Valerio steps back. A physical separation between them and he settles one hand firmly on Leslie's shoulder. "Thank you for returning Leslie to us. We've been so very worried for him. Now I must call the Sheriff to let him know the boy is alright. If you'll excuse me, Detective?"

And he's dismissed. Sebastian nods and backs out of the main door. Watching as Valerio leans down to talk reassuringly to Leslie, and lead him deeper into the hospice. He lets the door shut before tucking the cigarette away. He hasn't really been craving them as much, only lighted up the one he smoked on the way to town by habit.

The trip in has left him with a whole load of nothing. Just like every other lead he's tried to follow. He feels like he's spinning in circles. Getting nowhere even as he learns more and gets sucked deeper into it all. There's too many loose ends. Too many things that could be connected but he doesn't know enough to make those connections. Not yet.

Sebastian doesn't like the feeling of being a passive observer in this. He brushes out a streak of dust from his coat and looks around the empty neighborhood before looking back at the studio.

"Fuck this shit," Sebastian pauses at his car for a set of gloves and heads back inside the house.

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He was careful to touch nothing when he came in, and even took longer on the lock than he needed to. Now though, he needs to really search.

He goes straight for the freezer.

It's brand fucking new and still has the stickers on it from the store along with the receipt for delivery. It's not in Renard's name, nor in Cabrera's. Sebastian doesn't put any stock in it other than to note the date is in May. He clears off the top. Heavy things mostly that don't even look like they belong in the basement. He grunts as he has to put some force into prying the lid open when it's clear.

Ice cracks and fragments fall out as he manages to force the top open past the blockage. A massive clustering of ice is mounded in one corner, and Sebastian doesn't need a white light to know what's under it. He knows the outline of a body when he sees one. Wrapped in something white and freezer burned.

Renard won't be coming back from his vacation.

"Christ," he stares down at the old man for a minute before reaching down for one of the decorative concrete statues that had been on top and jams it back between the lid so it stays propped open. The freezer gives out a faint whine when he yanks the cord. The internal system chugging to a slow stop that's going to take a few days for the frozen body to catch up with. It'll be several more before the smell of it will make someone come in to look. Maybe longer, but they will find him.

He tosses the room then, finding the switch for the main lights and getting the brighter white lights on to help.

Most of what he finds are pictures, and rolls of undeveloped film. Receipts for food and supplies lay around through the room. Nothing unusual about them but that they were all paid with Renard's credit cards after May. There's maps too. Of the area and the state in general. A few printouts of the Victoriano estate with marks that match up to what Sebastian can see from the camera angles. One of the hospice, and even a few of the church that Sebastian folds up into a pocket.

There's no signs that Cabrera sleeps down there or even lives there. A planning area and developing studio, but most of what Sebastian sees is just trash. Discarded things that aren't important to Cabrera. He's staying somewhere else and Sebastian has an idea where for once.

He looks over to the freezer before leaving but there's nothing else he can do for the dead man.

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