As a civilian, it should have been harder to weave through the frantic crowd of onlookers around the tragic scene. The noises around the highway were deafening, ambulances and police cards littering the expanse of road that they managed to clear away from still functioning cars. Cael hadn't a need to use his car, he had simply walked towards it, being a mere thirty minutes from his apartment complex. Your usual onlookers were littered about, of course; inconsiderate people filming what little they could see, curious minds inquiring what happened and if the casualties survived, peppered with possible relatives panicking if their loved ones were among the fray.<br/><br/>Cael was no stranger to all of it. Same faces, different people. Same circumstances, different environment. While he had been too young to understand during the accident that killed his parents, in subsequent incidences since then it dawned on him the familiarity. A cycle was performed, beginning with unfortunate tragedy, the next step being panic, leading the way to chaos and ruin. It was only when help was beckoned that they as a race tried to return their world to order from the mess left behind. In this moment, they were in the stage of chaos.<br/><br/>No tears picked at the corners of his eyes. Where he lost his empathy along his short life, he couldn't say, but the rush of emotions swirling in the air about the crowd affected him in no direct manner. It was perhaps with this detachment that a man, though more than average attractiveness, could slip among the throng unnoticed. Cael was an expert at it; being present without revealing his presence at all. Another ability he acquired from the trail of deaths that littered his wake. His calm exterior must placate the unwanted audience with authority usually presented by paramedics and law enforcement that most assumed he was one of them.<br/><br/>He wove his way through like salmon in the river swimming upstream, dodging arms and shoulders jabbing in his direction. His dark eyes searched this way and that, looking from the bobbing heads to the rubble of automotive parts ahead. EMTs rushed with stretchers to carry away bodies both living and dead, piling into ambulances at an alarming rate. Cael ignored the shivers this brought him from the memory of his own experience in the van. Sometimes he still vaguely felt the tube in his throat whenever he swallowed too hard.<br/><br/>Eventually, the multitude of people thinned the closer he stepped towards the wreckage, and now it was mostly the media with their cameras plaguing the scene. Since he didn't pester with needless words, they were happy to ignore him for the time behind. Silently he stood there, hands at his sides, and searched for that familiar figure he knew- he hoped- would be roaming among shattered glass and metal.<br/><br/>Nothing at first. Not hint of a tailored suit that never showed signs of wear, no evidence of being present at a crime. The poor unfortunate could be bleeding out his heart, but the fabric would never stain. Of course he had no way to prove this, but Cael highly suspected that was the case. Whenever he saw that broad back amongst the fray there was never a speck of dust on his shoulders. Locks perfectly coiffed in place-<br/><br/>His eyes widened a touch as he spotted the topic of his thoughts. There, crouching by a ghastly overturned car, that kind hand was reaching out to no one in particular. There was an arm, twisted as it lay pinned between the frame of the window and cracked cement, but no movement was visible. Yet there was that hand grasping thin air, with a confidence in the presence of a solid. Cael's lips parted a touch, his breath hitching as his heart skipped a beat as the man stood up, turned as his duty to that deceased individual was finished....<br/><br/>...and Cael was met with a defining profile. His gasp was low, nearly inaudible to anyone in proximity, but it felt like an echoing bell in his ears as time seemed to<i>stop</i>.  If he could describe the perfect man in existence, Ciarán was the ideal. The nose slopped elegantly, the forehead jutted just the right amount not to be too cumbersome, and those defined cheekbones set aflame parts of him he didn't know existed. Each stride Ciarán took, Cael's eyes followed, hoping, praying, admittedly even screaming in his head<i>turn to look at me! I need to finally see your face! Look at ME.</i><br/><br/>As if beckoned, finally....Ciarán did at last. Their eyes met.<br/><br/>Cael wondered if he had really died in that ambulance, and this is all a dream. A fantasy. Even more so as Ciarán spun on his heel to now waltz towards him. Hi heart beat faster, but he refused to lower his gaze in fear. Isn't this what he had desired for so long? There was a face to his mysterious man at last. Despite his eyes perceiving him, the rest of the world remained oblivious as he dodged through the ignorant.<br/><br/>That face got closer now. The scruff was now obvious on his jawline, and those cheekbones even more marvellous within reach. If he wasn't rooted on the spot, he might have tried to reach out himself, before that familiar hand beat him to it. Oh, the words were sing song to his ears, just as seducing as they were those weeks ago.<br/><br/>"I was in the neighbourhood." he answered with a little white lie. Those fingers were warm, as enticing as before. Cael pretended not to lean slightly into their touch. "I happened to pass by the scene...I was merely...curious." The playful part of him wanted to keep Ciarán guessing, to wonder if the living man had really come forth simply to seek him out. Why give his secret away so soon? "I have a...<i>friend</i>, who uses this highway for commute everyday. I wondered if they would be part of the wreckage, though I sincerely hope not. I guess there's no mystery as to why you're here though, is there?" his eyes were levelled, tempting, an unmet well of questions needing answer ready to burst through his skin.<br/>"How many?" he asked, though the exact number didn't matter. All Cael wanted to do was keep the man talking, keep him here for a few minutes longer. "You must have been busy, I doubt the ones in the car pile there even survived a minute afterwards. Are they...passed on now? Where I wasn't allowed to go?"