darker_london | It's ME! (Alastair, Werner, Johan) (Reply)

Alastair tried to spend time with his father every day. If he couldn't make it every day, he definitely made it every other day. He had learned from the death of his mother that if you didn't make the time to see people and then they were gone, you missed them and you felt more guilty than you would ever admit. With Werner, he had prior warning. His father was dying. Soon. Within the next few years, if they were lucky. Within the next few months if they weren't. Alastair tried so hard to be happy. And Klara helped, as did the almost daily visits. But sometimes it was hard. losing his mother and finding out he would lose his father all in one year was not an easy thing to deal with, nor was the world descending into terrible darkness. No wonder he went out ocasionally and got drunk out of his mind.

Sometimes when Alastair went round to visit, Werner was asleep and neither Johan nor Alastair were keen to wake him when his sleep was so keenly needed. So when that was the case, he sat quietly and chatted with Johan, who he loved as a father as well. Johan was aware that Alastair was no doing as well as he seemed, because he himself was not. It was a pain they shared. Quietly. "Your coffee alright?" Johan asked, his own mug warming his hands.

"It's good. Viennese coffee is always the best. These Londoners don't know what they're missing." Though Alastair had been raised in London since he was two, his parents were both from Vienna, English was his second language (though he was fluent), and he considered London the place where he lived, not his home. Vienna was his home. He missed it when he wasn't there. And now that Werner and Johan had moved here, he couldn't go there to visit anymore. One day he would take Klara there and share it with her.

"Hah! Damn right, I say! German coffee doesn't compare either, even if the Kempfs did think they had the best of everything."

Alastair licked his lips and he looked up at Johan, hesitantly. He had known Johan since he was ten. Johan had been with his father for eleven years now and they had recently gotten married. Johan was his step-father and Alastair adored him, but he didn't know him. Not well. He knew him in the way a son knows a father, and that had always been enough. But now that Werner was getting worse, Alastair found that he wanted to have a closer connection to Johan too. Like he had always had with Werner. He knew Werner like a friend knows a friend, even long distance. It was important to Alastair. "Johan...what was...what are the Kempfs like?"

Johan took a slow sip of his coffee and he wrestled with how he should answer...and even if he should...shortly, before offering Alastair a tired smile. "I can't say it was terrible growing up there. Not in the same way Spectre could say that about his childhood. In fact, for a number of years, I bought in to their nonesense, though not to the extent that some of them do as I was always a little radical. I always wanted to be a musician which was just weird to them. The Kempfs are...well, they're a pack of narcissitic arseholes who think they're always right. But it's worse than that because they have power behind it."

"Power?" Alastair was fascinated now. Johan's shady past was a thing of mystery and intrigue.

"My Grandfather, Hannes Kempf was the big man when I was a kid. And he ruled with an iron fist. The Kempf household is in Dresden and it's...you've never seen anything so big. It's bigger than bloody Buckingham Palace. And practically all of Wilhem Kempf's descendants live there together. He was from the end of the 18th century. There's several branches of the family there now. Like the Dreschers and my branch, the Liedermanns. The Vogelers.... The Kaufmanns. All descended from Old Wilhelm. And they marry rich too. But the money is all dirty. Wilhelm was a thug. He stole and he killed and he cheated. Eventually he got enough money that he hired people to kill, steal and cheat for him. And then he found ways to be more subtle about it. The Kempf family now is in deep in trafficking and racing...prostitution...any kind of organised crime you can think of, they have a hand in it. They like to think of themselves as elite. They claim relation to royalty. But Wilhelm Kempf was nothing but a two-bit thug who was smart enough to get lucky."

"Geez..." Alastair had never heard Johan sound like this before. Slightly bitter. It was strange... "And they're...mean?"

"Well, they consider themselves to be better than anyone. During the 30s and 40s a great deal of the family were involved in the Nazi party. My great grandfather Ludwig even went down for it. He died in prison. The family tried to bury that because he had been the head of the family... That's when Grandfather took over. And when he died, he only had two daughters and though I was being raised to take over, I was both too young, and too...strange. Leadership went to his brother's son, Wolfgang. Much to my Aunt Helsa's dismay, which is why she's such a battleaxe. She believed I should inherit. Can you just imagine that?! Wolfgang is Peter's uncle. Wolfgang's older brother, Klaus is the only one who managed to get away without being shunned. Save for the members posing as diplomats, of course."

"Uhm...what?"

"Some of the family members are involved in government. How do you think the Kempfs stay out of trouble?! Good lawyers, which Klaus was one of until his death. And friends in high places. Their fronts are ironclad and look legal. They're untouchable and they know it. Anyway...I believed their crap. Pretty much until I left for University. I went to Vienna and my cousin was there too. Her name was Hannelore, and she was the daughter of two diplomats."

"Hannelore. Devon's mum?"

"Exactly. Hannelore had been raised outside the Dresden Manor and while her parents were staunch believers in the Kempf credo, she was not. And spending time with her...I started to see her point. One Christmas I brought my black girlfriend home and announced I wanted to marry her. You should have seen the fallout. I was immediately disowned and disinherited and Alastair...I had never been so happy in my life. I was free. No one cared what I did and if it was proper or not. No one told me my thinking was wrong. It was incredible. I was a pisspoor student living off of breadcrumbs and I loved it.

"When I got to be pretty well known, at least among certain age groups, my Aunt Helsa contacted me and told me I should come see my mother as she wasn't well. Basically they wanted to trap me into saying I couldn't stand the poor life and I should come back to the fold. They try it on every year. Think of what good press I would be, eh? Except that I'm openly gay with my openly gay lover who I openly gay married."

Alastair snorted and he smiled at Johan. "I'm glad you got out. That sounds...fucked up, really."

"It is. Alastair, do you by any chance, know a Lily Nikolovic?"

"Hmm? Oh yeah. Yeah, she used to live on my floor when I lived in McKinley. She was a PAIN in the ARSE. She was Allanah's roommate until she accused Allanah of murder. Which...was technically correct uhm...but it was Templar and they were trying to kill Daria and one of them shot me, so I don't have a lot of sympathy for them... Allanah saved us and Lily pitched a hissy because she didn't like her. So then Lily moved in with Daria but I think she lives at home now? Good riddance. Why?"

"My cousin Aleric is her fiance." Johan said with a raised eyebrow. "And I don't think his intentions are entirely...pure."

Aleric continued to watch his step-father for a moment and then he shifted uncomfortably. "I'm trying so hard not to say it serves her right."

"I can see that." Johan smiled. "And while that may be true, she still deserves to know."

"Oh maaaaannnn, you're asking me to reach out to Lily?!" Alastair heaved a sigh. "Fine, but only if you make me biccies."

Johan laughed heartily. "I think I can manage that."

Both of them looked up then, as Werner appeared in the doorframe. He had just woken up and he looked terribly confused. He didn't appear to recognise either of them. "Wh...who-"

"Dad?" Alastair jumped up and he rushed forward. "Dad, are you alright?" He had gone pale with worry.

"Dad?" Werner looked confused for a moment longer and then recognition sparked in his eyes. "Alastair?"

"Yeah...yeah it's me, Dad. It's me." Alastair wrapped his arms around his father tightly and he held him with trembling arms.

"Alastair." Werner hugged his son tightly in relief as Johan looked on, terrified. This was a bad sign.