Bearing the brunt of the abuse was Claude, of course— what could reasonably be blamed on the half-brother-turned-impromptu-guardian would inevitably be blamed on him, and a majority of the rumors (and the ensuing injuries) were attributed to his carelessness. Some even questioned his loyalty, citing his tenuous familial ties as a reason for him to stir trouble, but his flippant willingness to allow whatever punishment to befall him was what caused his temporary house arrest as opposed to something more drastic. That would account for Claude's momentary disappearance.
Gus, on the other hand, suffered something more stifling: where Claude doesn't mind solitary confinement, Gus finds surveillance cloying. Being guarded day and night is his reason for not showing up, and as the weeks passed and no immediate danger presented itself, the number of people constantly watching him dwindled, dwindled...
...until he found himself being able to speak without being spoken to in return, found himself being able to walk without being asked where he was going.
So.
Obviously, this results in him looking for a door; a very familiar door, one that leads to a place he'd been itching to go for days, weeks, months. He runs all over town looking for it, stumbles into more than a few wrong houses along the way, before he trips headfirst into the entrance of the Midnight Grind.
Momentum pitches him forward, has him stumble on nice leather shoes and skid, skid, skid...
no subject
Bearing the brunt of the abuse was Claude, of course— what could reasonably be blamed on the half-brother-turned-impromptu-guardian would inevitably be blamed on him, and a majority of the rumors (and the ensuing injuries) were attributed to his carelessness. Some even questioned his loyalty, citing his tenuous familial ties as a reason for him to stir trouble, but his flippant willingness to allow whatever punishment to befall him was what caused his temporary house arrest as opposed to something more drastic. That would account for Claude's momentary disappearance.
Gus, on the other hand, suffered something more stifling: where Claude doesn't mind solitary confinement, Gus finds surveillance cloying. Being guarded day and night is his reason for not showing up, and as the weeks passed and no immediate danger presented itself, the number of people constantly watching him dwindled, dwindled...
...until he found himself being able to speak without being spoken to in return, found himself being able to walk without being asked where he was going.
So.
Obviously, this results in him looking for a door; a very familiar door, one that leads to a place he'd been itching to go for days, weeks, months. He runs all over town looking for it, stumbles into more than a few wrong houses along the way, before he trips headfirst into the entrance of the Midnight Grind.
Momentum pitches him forward, has him stumble on nice leather shoes and skid, skid, skid...
...into a faceplant on one of the nice rugs. ]
—Table for one...
[ He says, through a mouthful of fabric. ]