Chapter Text
Personal Residence, Northern Siberia, 12:14 a.m.
Three Months After the New York Disaster
Dust motes swirled about the air as you made your way through the darkened home. Not a single light was on in the residence, the only source of illumination being that of the full moon spilling in through the windows. The place was quiet, empty, save for you and the heart that kept pounding in your chest, clenching painfully in reminder of what you'd lost.
'If you don't hear from me in three days, leave; get as far away from here as you can.'
Vladimir's words echoed in your mind and you gripped the wooden stair rail leading up to the home's second story, sliding to the floor as you felt your gut churn.
'There is a place in Siberia - you remember, the lodge where we used to stay? go there, you will be safe.'
Your throat constricted, tears pricking at the corner of both eyes before rolling down your cheeks. You felt lost, frayed, as though only half alive without the one who made you whole.
'I do this not for myself but for the greater good of all Russia, for us,' Vladimir had told you before his final departure, rubbing your shoulder affectionately like he always would to reassure you as he slipped out of bed.
That was almost three months ago; twelve weeks since the mass bombings in New York (which he orchestrated) had occurred, and eight since you'd found out you were carrying a child - his child. Half the world had watched as The City that Never Sleeps crumbled, whole blocks leveled by the devastation Vladimir's organized attack had caused; likewise, mass casualties were reported following the large scale incident. Death begetting death.
And yet, for all of the lives needlessly lost in this horrible tragedy, the one whom you cared about the most - who'd ripped your still-beating heart from your chest with his absence, was the very one at fault. Vladimir was not a man often loved; feared by most, he had been at the forefront of a revolutionary movement for Russia, working ceaselessly within the shadows to forward his cause: stripping away those currently in power and burning their ideals, all for the sake of strengthening the motherland. This had been his choice, his goal his own...until the day he met you. Something within Vladimir had changed when you walked into his life; from the start you'd known exactly what kind of man he was, the atrocities he was willing to commit in order to bring winds of change to his country. You knew more than enough to pull away from him and never look back, the vicious rumors, the buried half-truths, yet in spite of this you chose to stay. Perhaps a part of you had wondered, when all was said and done, what sort of thing possesses a bright young boy to grow into a man like that, and from the moment Vladimir began gradually opening up to you your fate was sealed.
A violent sob wracked through you as you thought back to his warm eyes, the first time you saw him smile.
You were no murderer, yet you clung to one as though he were your only life line, staining your hands with the blood of innocents for the sake of holding him -the man whom you loved so dearly- and being held by him.
Four years seemed like a long time together and yet it ended altogether too soon, the moment you'd seen the most prominent news headline all those weeks ago: Body of War Criminal and Terrorist Vladimir Makarov Recovered Among Those Deceased.
The announcement had been playing for days now and it turned your stomach every time you saw it; the grainy image of several EMTs working around a body lain on a stretcher, appearing horribly mangled, half obscured by a bloody white cloth. The bleak still was forever engraved in your mind, tearing away at your sanity and every last shred of hope you'd had of your lover returning to you.
'Leave a candle for me, if I don't make it back. You are the only one who will ever mourn my loss.'
The memory of those words stung, cutting deep like shards of glass, and you carried yourself down the hall to retch the remnants of supper into the bathroom sink.
You were aware of the terrible things which Vladimir had done, that a day like this might eventually come if he kept following the same path which always lead to ruin and more death. Even knowing all of this, nothing could have ever prepared you for the day your nightmare took shape - the day your lover's absence became one of grim finality and heartache rather than patient longing. You shouldn't have loved Vladimir but you did, regardless of his flaws, in spite of all the horrors he'd wrought upon the world. Whereas others you thought you could trust had cast you aside Vladimir had welcomed you, gave you a home in his heart after you'd carefully worked your way through each of his well-constructed walls that guarded his true feelings for you. It wasn't long after the two of you had met that you started sharing a bed, whispering words of praise to one another as well as softly murmured ambitions for the future.
You heaved again, spilling more of your stomach contents into the sink and watching it swirl down the drain when you turned the faucet on. Tilting your head up you stared at the reflection in the mirror, pale and deeply shaken but nevertheless still your own. Through your tears you noticed the dark circles that resided beneath both of your glimmering eyes; they had been there since your lover departed for New York and would probably remain for some time. Another reminder of things not said or done, forever left undone - too little too late. It wasn't until some long moments later that you finally managed to pull yourself together, assuring yourself that suffering many more of these emotional episodes would not be healthy for you or your unborn child, that you would have to learn to bear your grief in a way that wouldn't compromise your health or that of the baby. And thus it was that, after drawing in a few slow breaths and patting your eyes dry, you silently padded off to the kitchen.
'In the event that I am taken from you know this: all of these things that I do and everything that I have ever done has been for the betterment of our homeland,' Vladimir had murmured to you some time ago, sweetly nuzzling the back of your neck and gently stroking your arm. 'And that, of all the choices I have ever made, taking you into my arms was the wisest. You are everything to me - do you understand that? I allowed you to stay, confided in you, told you things only scarce few have ever known all the while without fully realizing that I was falling for you.'
Reaching into a cabinet you pulled out a large apple-and-cinnamon scented candle, one that had always been Vladimir's personal favorite, and snatched a box of matches from the stove-side drawer. Striking the side of the box, you allowed the match to burn for a micro second, hesitant even now, before holding it to the used wick as you watched it gradually catch flame.
'I let you in and you became my world, because I love you and care deeply about you - always remember that. Not even death will change the way I feel, all because of you.'
You stared mesmerically at the dancing flame, the only light in the otherwise shadowed kitchen, before clutching the candle and drawing it closer to you, inhaling its pleasant aroma as fresh tears streaked down your face. This home, your own thoughts, everything reminded you of him. The deep rumbling sound of distant thunder could be heard throughout the otherwise silent dwelling place, signaling an oncoming storm as heavy clouds began rolling in to partially obscure the moon.
'In a world full of darkness you have given me true purpose; my life a real meaning. I hope that one day we will both look back on these moments fondly, proud of the place they helped us reach.'
Tears once more began to fall, unrestrained as you gazed upon the flickering candle, tormented, irrevocably broken. Outside the clouds had blanketed most of the night sky, blocking out the silvery moonlight and plunging the house into an oppressive, empty dark.
'If time allows me to die at your side, then I will die a content man, pleased with the time we shared.'
You clutched the candle closely, needing to feel warmth as you stood and crept your way through the otherwise dim residence. Memories flooded through you as you passed the living room, staring for but a moment into the black space before moving on. That one floorboard still creaked in the hall when you crossed over it, if not a little quieter than usual as though the house itself were holding back a breath - waiting for a prior resident to return but realizing that something was off or perhaps horribly wrong.
'Did you know that my own grandfather built this home before the events of the Cold War?' the memory of your lover's voice greeted you on your way down the corridor, a shiver running down your spine as you stretched out your hand to touch the wall as you walked just as he'd done when first showing you this place. 'It was meant to be a safe haven for he and his wife if the threat of nuclear war reached too close to home, but ended up being used as their summer home instead,' you listened to the ghost your mind had conjured up, following the replaying echo as it lead you to the master bedroom, 'but that was some time ago. He is long gone now, as are most of those that were my family once.' Hearing those words had deeply affected you as it was one singular time you had garnered a true admittance and testament to the fact that somewhere deep down, buried under all the half-truths and things best kept hidden, Vladimir felt lonely. An empty chasm resided in the innermost part of his soul, representing his failures and each of the things he had lost: his mother, his father, and the only true friend he'd ever had. He'd told you once that you were the light of his world, his way back from the edge of darkness. If only that were true now.
You set the candle on the bedside stand, staring at the partially illuminated sheets and then about the rest of the living space. Your gaze fell upon the oak dresser where you used to pack away Vladimir's folded clothes, the open closet where you'd neatly hung all of his spare dress suits, and lastly back to the bed, that shared place of warmth where the two of you had so often made love. All of it was lost now. The dresser was empty save for the dust collecting inside, the closet bare, and the bed had grown cold. In this haven that had once hidden a shadow among shadows instead there was only you, the low sound of your heart-wrenching sobs the only sign of life against the encroaching blackness. Lying down upon the bed and curling in on yourself, you cried, hugging the subtle protrusion of your stomach - one final parting gift from Vladimir, something that would not be taken from you. A child, his child you reminded yourself, a small blessing that was yet shielded from the horrors of this world. Your breathing gradually slowed, a fragile peace settling over you as your mind drifted to thoughts of the life growing inside you, the one whom you would strive to protect.
''Your father would be proud of you,'' the words that left you were low, genuine, and you caressed your stomach much like Vladimir had done when you first broached the subject of wanting children with him, ''just as I am proud of you. He would have loved you'' -your voice cracked a little as you reigned in a sob before it could escape your throat- ''I will tell you of him, everything, when you are old enough. For now, just rest,'' you stated a little more clearly, ''we will both need strength going forward.'' With that you lie there on your side, curled up beneath the blankets that still smelled faintly of your lover, watching the candle burn until sleep eventually came for you and you closed your eyes, allowing that soothing nothingness to pull you under.