"…You know, my place is only so big. How much longer are guys planning to stay in my apartment?!" Vanessa asked, her mouth twitching. Even if the Laflamme brothers' house had burned to ashes, she couldn't shelter them forever, especially when she didn't have a guest room. Her living room had pratically became Gabriel, Misha, and Tristan's bedroom, while the office-slash-store room had become Jake's.
"Don't worry, Jake is on it." Gabriel smiled kindly. "Your place is just very well located for us, and finding another apartment that corresponds to all of our needs so well is a bit difficult."
A sigh, and Vanessa gave up. "Fine, do whatever you want! You've been paying rent, anyway."
"Thank you," Gabriel replied with a nod.
"I don't need your thank you. Just make sure to never again try to cook or do the cleaning in my house. Leave it to Misha, please."
The plea drew a chortle out of Misha, and Gabriel nudged him, silently telling him to keep quiet. It was better to let the matter die than rekindle it. Vanessa had almost ripped his head off when he destroyed one of her brand-new pans trying to fry some eggs.
"What's for breakfast, by the way?" Tristan asked with a yawn, plopping on the sofa.
"Crepes!" Misha hummed as he opened the fridge, getting everything he needed out. "Unless you would like something else? Maybe some bacon and—"
A knock on the door interrupted Misha, and he instinctively craned his neck toward it.
He's there already?
Another knock, and Vanessa clicked her tongue. She mumbled some inaudible things, although the tone of her voice let everyone know just how annoyed she was. Still, she flung the door open, casting an aggravated glance at the newcomer.
"Why is my boss on my doorstep every goddamn morning? Don't you have better things to do?!"
A valid question, considering the man had been popping up every day for the past two weeks.
"No, not really." Stephan chuckled, very naturally bypassing the owner of the apartment before removing his boots, his tuque, and his coat. A mountain of snow fell in passing, piling up on the rug. "The weather is a pain in the butt today, and visibility on the road is practically non-existent. I'm thinking of keeping the café closed, so you can take it easy today."
Vanessa responded by pursing her lips.
"Don't worry, I'll be paying you a working day."
Now, a smile bloomed on her face.
"You know what? You're welcome to come over whenever you want to, boss!" She clapped her hands, appearing as if she wasn't the one complaining a moment ago. What was one more person in her already overcrowded apartment, anyway? "Oh, yeah, Jake is in the office-slash-store room, busy on the phone."
Stephan nodded and quickly disappeared into said room. A second later, Misha returned his attention to the refrigerator, rummaging through its contents as he mumbled, "Guess I'll need to prepare one more portion now."
.
.
"I'll need to buy more chairs," Vanessa blurped after finishing her breakfast, "if you're planning to stay over for longer, that is."
"It's fine, no need to buy more chairs."
"Yeah, sure. You just want a reason to keep sitting on your boyfriend's lap, don't you?" Vanessa rolled her eyes, and Misha shrugged. Thanks to the lack of chairs to accommodate them all, Misha was sitting on Gabriel, while Tristan sat on Jake. Vanessa was very adamant about no one eating on the sofa, lest they soiled it, so they made do, even if this sitting arrangement wasn't all that practical.
"In our case," Jake said, wiping the maple syrup on Tristan's chin, "we should be out by next week. I found a relatively good apartment for us, and once the paperwork is done with, we'll move in. Stephan should stop pestering you if I'm not here, too."
Although the Laflamme had villas, these were located outside of the city, and it would make going to work or school difficult. Well, it wasn't like Tristan was back to school, as he was off for the time being. He had a brain surgery not long ago, then lost his parents and his house, so Jake filed a request for leave with the reason that the boy needed time to heal both physically and mentally.
Unsurprisingly, his request had been approved in record time. In the worst-case scenario, the child would repeat a year, but no one cared about that for the time being. They had more pressing matters to tackle first.
"As for me," Misha scratched his cheek, "I can also follow them to their apartment, if my presence bothers you."
"I'm pretty sure you don't give a shit about imposing and just want to stay with your boyfriend, though." Vanessa snorted, and Misha tucked his tongue out as a reply. "But don't you think it's about time you talk to your parents? You can't keep ignoring them forever. Your voicemail is full, no? Not only that, but you'll most likely meet them at, well, y'know…?"
Glancing at Tristan, who was dozing off on his brother's lap, Vanessa couldn't finish her sentence. Angela's and Matthew's funerals were set for next month, although the burial would have to wait for spring. Not like there was much to bury, anyway.
In any case, Misha's parents would most likely attend, and he would have to face them. It might not be the best place, though.
"I know, I know." Misha sighed, slouching against Gabriel. He pursed his lips, a pouty expression on his face. "I'll try to kick my ass and visit them tomorrow."
"How about I go with you?" Gabriel smiled, his voice coaxing. "Masha could come with Yuki, too."
"Aren't you afraid my mom is going to berate you until your ears fall off?"
"Well, it's something I'll have to go through at some point. Better rip off the bandage in one go, hm?"
Still unconvinced, Misha clenched his fists.
After telling his father that he and his sister were safe and sound, he didn't interact with him. He didn't really know about Masha, but as for him, he couldn't bring himself to answer his parents' phone calls. The more he pushed the moment to later, the harder it became to actually pick up his phone. He was putting on blinders and trying not to think about it. It wasn't very effective, but still.
"To start with," Misha sighed, half-giving in, "can you even find the time to come over to my house? You're not exactly free right now."
An awkward laugh was his answer.
Of course, it would be an awkward laugh. Both Jake and Gabriel were drowning in too many things to do.
Because Jake had experience with organizing funerals, thanks to his past lives where he had buried a few of his children and his wife, he took up that task, but it was far from the only thing they had to take care of.
Firefighters were still investigating the fire, although it seemed to have been ruled out as an accident.
Apparently, a worn-out part of the fridge had given up during the night, and the refrigerant gas built up until it ignited. Some suspected a spark from a faulty wiring, but some weren't so sure about it. They were still debating the real cause behind the ignition, but one thing they all agreed upon was that it exploded, and the violent blast ravaged the house in record time. The flash fire had reached other inflammable appliances, and things went downhill from there on.
Misha had no idea how Pierrot orchestrated the broken fridge, and he wasn't all that interested in knowing how. The less he knew about the assassination, the better he would feel.
The police didn't share his thoughts, though. Because Angela and Matthew were under investigation, their deaths seemed oddly well-timed. Suspicion rose, but without proof, it was all speculation. Interrogating the dead was proven difficult, and even the investigation was stagnating.
Despite the files Gabriel had given the police officers, the officers couldn't find anything that held ground. Information written on pieces of paper was worth nothing if they had no proof to back it up, and some people hindered them in every step they took. They had met with Gabriel and Jake a few times, trying to find more information about Angela and Matthew's associates, but without much success.
The case would most likely end up as a cold case, one buried six feet under alongside Angela and Matthew.
Aside from the funerals and the investigation, there was also the company to take care of. It was pure chaos, and no one seemed to know what to do.
Needless to say, Gabriel and Jake were busy.
"Well, I'm sure I can make time, don't worry."
"Uh-huh."
Doubtful, Misha didn't put too much faith in Gabriel's words. Even if he would like to have him by his side tomorrow, it wasn't mandatory. He was a big man who could face his mother on his own, anyway.
Misha willingly forgot that this big man had been running away from his parents for the past two weeks.