Einar showed up at dinnertime, finding Moe already finished packing, sitting despondently in his rocking chair and gently rocking while stroking sleeping Miny's back. As the doorbell rang, Moe rose silently, carefully handed Miny to Datu, took out the prepared knife, and stealthily approached the door with a grin that likely appeared unsettling to Datu. Peering through the peephole, his heart pounded with worry for his son. A sigh of relief escaped him upon seeing Einar outside - swollen, bruised, and covered in abrasions. Fleetingly, he acknowledged the comfort in Einar's presence at the door rather than a potential threat.

"Hello, Moe," Einar greeted in a hushed tone, the bracketed plate on his unsteady teeth still new. "Can we talk?"

"Hello, piece of shit, sure, come on in," Moe moved aside to allow him into his dwelling, unable to hide a disdainful look. He tensed, signaling the bodyguards who were ready to follow Einar to remain outside with a gesture. "And your Teletubbies will stay outside."

"Of course," Einer nodded briefly to the bodyguards, who tensely huddled together and obediently stayed outside. Meanwhile, Einer swiftly looked around before eagerly approaching Datu, who was rocking Miny in his arms.

"Datu, could you please excuse us for a moment? Please wait in the bedroom while we have a chat." Moe pointed towards a chair near the dining table and settled down. As Datu softly stepped into the bedroom, he tactfully closed the door behind him.

"Go on," Moe redirected his gaze to Einer, recoiling at the familiar scent of sea salt, eyeing him distastefully. Einer looked swollen, his bruises beginning to show signs of fading, his complexion half-red from recent skin grafts. Despite his confusion, there was a discernible glimmer of hope in his expression. Einer was now a far cry from his former self- once impeccably handsome, confident, and brazenly insolent, yet his sheer presence repulsed Moe.

"Moe, I deeply regret putting your life in jeopardy," Einer, struggling to articulate his words clearly, implored with raised eyebrows. "I feel overwhelmingly guilty..."

"Let's skip the apologies, as I'll never forgive you," Moe interrupted with bitterness. "Get to the point, asshole."

"Please," Einar flinched, registering the disdainful nickname he was now branded with. "Moe, could you..."

"Cut the niceties. Get to the point, I said!" Moe poured himself a glass of lemonade, placing the ice-cold bottle on the table without offering any to Einar.

"Alright," Einar took a deep breath, leaning forward with the intention of a lengthy persuasion. "Moe, you and Miny need to come live with me. Last night's incident has become public, and those who nearly killed you could target you both. I can't allow that to happen. They have far-reaching influence; I'm certain they have connections here. I've stationed guards around your condo, but that's only a temporary measure. This isn't my territory, even though I have associates here. I can only guarantee your safety fully on the territory I fully control."

"Fine," Moe nodded, emitting a contemptuous snort as surprise dawned on Einar's face, clearly not anticipating Moe's quick agreement.

"Then let's start packing and leave," Einar exclaimed from the conference table, but Moe slammed his hand on the smooth surface and hissed, "Not so fast, you piece of shit! This is what I want."

Einer's lips briefly tightened in response to the treatment, but he remained silent, evidently prepared to negotiate, as indicated by his impassive expression.

"I’ll accept the security detail; I view it as a small recompense for the harm you've caused. We'll reside separately in a heavily guarded location, more like an impenetrable fortress. You and Manny will not be allowed to enter, and once this whole thing is over, we'll leave," Moe outlined each point deliberately and clearly. Einer, who had listened attentively to the end, perked up.

"The risk is smaller if we are all in the same location, Moe. Dan has been diligently working on bolstering staff ever since I discovered you were alive and—" Einer smiled softly. "No longer alone. However, even with new personnel, despite rigorous screening, errors can occur, as demonstrated previously. Thus, I suggest," Einer quickly corrected himself, "I recommend that you relocate to my estate."

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

"You don’t put all your eggs in one basket, Einar, it's a fundamental truth. Therefore, the two of you, the most prized targets for your enemies, will live together as you previously did," Moe stated with a dry hiss. "And this time, I hope you'll bait the assassins, rather than cowering behind me like a coward," Einar slumped, unable to endure the humiliating gaze. "Lure them out, eliminate them, and leave me and Miny in peace. You see, even if you die, Einar, you'd be doing me a great favor—without you, I'm of little significance to your rivals."

"That's logical," Einar nervously cracked his knuckles as he weighed his response. "However, I don't agree..."

"I don’t give a shit, it's the only way I can maintain some semblance of normalcy without being consumed by hatred and bitterness. And those emotions, you see, damn it, will affect Miny because babies at that age are highly sensitive to their parent's emotional state. Understand?"

"Understood, that's a valid point," Einar nodded tentatively. "But we'll still need to meet periodically, discuss the evolving circumstances face-to-face. We can't solely rely on digital communications; even trusted channels can falter. And eventually, I hope..." Einar paused, casting a glance around the table before concluding softly, "I'm asking for a second chance, Moe."

"You don't have any chances; accept it as I've accepted your temporary presence in my life," Moe stated harshly. "You mean nothing to me, and I mean nothing to you—those are the roles we'll fulfill as long as circumstances force us to interact. Think of it as if you killed me in that hunting lodge." Moe observed the anguish spreading across Einar's face with irritation, unable to comprehend why Einar continued to display his distress. "There's no way I'll testify, so you're wasting your time."

"I wouldn't want you to testify; it would put both you and the child at risk," Einar said wistfully, prompting Moe to rise fiercely.

"So, you came here fully aware that you were condemning Moe Hayes to death?! You're such an asshole, Einar!"

"I would have protected him, I mean, you, I mean..." Einar trailed off, feeling confused and despondent, realizing there was nothing he could say to justify his actions, and he had inadvertently revealed his true intentions.

"I hate you!" Moe's fists clenched, barely restraining himself from striking Einar once more, recalling how his past recklessness had resulted in fatal outcomes.

"It's alright, I can handle hatred," Einar straightened, his confidence still evident. "It's preferable to indifference, Moe, it gives me something to hold onto. And I harbored hatred towards you for a long time as well."

"What?!" Moe stared in astonishment, his expression a silent question—Einar had caught him off guard.

"You were probably going to ask why," Einar grinned crookedly, his eyes softening with a tenderness that left the stunned Mo searching for an explanation. "Oh, for many reasons. For pushing me away every time, for looking distrustful and expecting ulterior motives, while welcoming others into your inner circle with warmth and openness. For not refuting the accusations of infidelity—Manny told me after you left," Einar breathed heavily. "Only then did he admit that nothing had happened between you. Because I loved you and you didn't love me. For all of that, I both hated and loved you at the same time."

"Are you fucking insane?" Moe, once again angered by the deceitful words, remained unconvinced by the impassioned outburst, raising his eyebrows skeptically. "What's your game, Simmons?"

"No, I am not insane," Einar replied glumly. "I want you, and I believe you're intelligent enough to understand that."

"Tell your sob story to some chump," Moe snapped, rising to his feet. "You don't use people as bait and abandon them to their fate."

"I'm prepared to apologize for my actions for the rest of my days, Moe," Einer retorted passionately, also standing up. "When I gave you that answer, I was confident that my extraction team had everything under control, and you would be safely removed from the situation in moments. It drove me nearly mad to discover that you were in an entirely different location, and after I said that, you became an unnecessary liability for the kidnappers. It was a miscalculation on my part, Moe, not a deliberate decision!"

"How'd you track me down?" Moe's curiosity sparked despite himself, his demeanor cooling slightly as he awaited the answer.

"Manny, when you were out of it, took off the back cover of your watch and placed a tracker onto it. He had better foresight than I did," Einer trailed off, clearly concerned that his younger, less experienced brother had anticipated the grim turn of events when he hadn't. "But by the time we got there, it was already too late—the place on fire, and the tracker, until it got toasted in the flames, showed you were there."

"Nice work, Manny," Moe praised with a smile, though it quickly faded as he stared at his charred hands, piecing together the chain of events in his mind. “And you…”

"And I stupidly rushed in to save you," Einer sighed sadly, his gaze distant. "Do you really think, Moe, that I'd risk my life for someone who meant nothing to me?"

Moe shuddered, imagining Einer darting into a burning building, searching desperately for him amidst the inferno, and meeting his anxious gaze, awaiting his response with palpable fear. Struggling with anxiety, feeling thrust into an unpredictable and unsettling turn of events, Moe evasively muttered, "I don't want to talk about this anymore. You set me up, you paid the price, and I suppose that's fair. We're nothing to each other. End of story."

“OK,” Einer sighed, and after a little silence, he added, “Pack up, we have to go.”