aureatescars

[aureatescars]

It doesn't seem quite real to translate back and forth between Leon and Mikael as they figure out the parameters of their deal. Despite being the one conversation passes through so to speak Sasha can't help but feel like he isn't part of it at all, as he is still caught up in his surprise and that lingering sensation of warmth at realizing that Leon is doing this for him. Maybe not entirely as he tries to emphasize after they've said their goodbyes to Mikael and keep browsing the store for more materials and tools, but still Sasha can't shake the feeling that it's more of an excuse, a way for Leon to make sure Sasha doesn't feel guilty about him spending this much money on what is essentially a whim.

Except, watching Leon go over a list of things to buy already has Sasha wonder just how much of this he's thought about before. The doorways, the ramps to get in and out of the cabin in the back and the front... He thinks he hears him mutter something to himself about the kitchen, too at some point while they're passing by some examples of countertops.

Sasha doesn't even try to hide the fact that he's deeply touched by it, although the feeling of owing Leon doesn't fade with his reassurances. However, what does help to ease his worries some is that Leon seems almost excited at the prospect of doing so much manual labor.

"Didn't you say you were looking to take a vacation? Are you sure you want to spend all of your time doing construction work?" Sasha has been quiet since they parted ways with Mikael. This question being the first thing he put into words after Leon's sudden decision left him reeling. Sasha can't even help the fact that his voice is still softened with what can't be called anything other than deep and genuine affection for Leon at this point.

When Sasha was still confined to his hospital bed the only thing Leon and him could do was talk, about anything and everything, really. And Sasha remembers more than one occasion when Leon was so adamant about how he'd take a proper vacation next time, without any interruptions or obligations.

Sasha clears his throat when Leon seems a little taken aback by his tone of voice still and maybe his expression, too. "You're bad at relaxing, aren't you?" He asks then, attempting to dispel the heavy weight of gratitude and emotion he feels when Leon clearly tries to not make a big deal of it all. Then, he moves his hands to wheel him closer to his friend and past him to the next aisle.

"Come on, tools are this way. If we want to make it to the grocery store in time we have to pick up the pace." Especially since Sasha has decided he'll most definitely not be slacking on dinner now that Leon will do more than just some basic carpentry around the cabin. Now, he sees it as even more of an obligation to keep him properly fed throughout their stay and he's determined make it worth his time, too. Sasha may not be able to do much of anything anymore, but this he can still do. No more instant soup, he decides. From now on he'll be cooking proper dishes.

He puts up a finger when Leon walks up beside him, which clearly confuses him at first. "You get one wish for tonight's dinner." Sasha tells him then, pleased when he catches Leon by surprise this time around. "Dessert, side dish, drink... whichever." Then he gives him look. "I won't even say anything if it turns out to be yet another breakfast food."

Whatever Sasha is about to say gets stuck in his throat the moment Leon tells him that somewhere between yesterday and now he somehow decided to buy the cabin. There is a mountain of questions forming in Sasha's mind. First and foremost: 'Are you insane?' closely followed by 'Is this a joke?' But the absolute certainty in Leon's expression and the reassuring touch to his shoulder that follows has the first impulse of irritable bewilderment simmer down to a more mellowed out wave of confusion.

"Are you sure?"

He asks uselessly, knowing it won't make a difference in Leon's answer. If he's learned one thing from the time they spent together it's that Leon doesn't waver in his decisions once he's set his mind to it. It still doesn't change the fact that Sasha has trouble processing what he's suggesting. He's willing to buy a cabin for him, because Sasha has trouble maneuvering in it? The fact that Leon already decided to make the changes to the cabin Mikael did agree to was already enough to have Sasha feel deeply touched, but this...

[What's going on?] Mikael asks while Sasha is still fighting down a wave of deep gratitude and affection, not wanting to embarrass himself infront of the older man, or infront of his friend.

[He—] Sasha has to clear his throat, voice coming out too quiet, too touched initally. [He is asking the price of the cabin.] Mikael blinks and Sasha can't blame him for the moment of dumbstruck silence that follows. Mikael looks between them a few times, Sasha's own surprise not having gone unnoticed.

Then, he laughs and names his price. It hasn't changed since last he tried to wrangle the money from Sasha, and Sasha admittedly thinks it is a reasonable one, if one had previously and thoroughly thought about spending any amount of money of a cabin in the woods of all places and not made this decision on a whim.

Regardless, Sasha turns back to Leon and after doing some quick math in his head he translates the number and giving a rough estimate of how much that would be in American dollars. The reasonable price still turns out to be a number that has him stumble over the words, but Leon appears unfazed.

"You're actually serious." Sasha says with now small amount of awe in his voice and an irritating flutter in his chest when Leon has the audacity to smirk at him.

[aureatescars]

Whatever Sasha is about to say gets stuck in his throat the moment Leon tells him that somewhere between yesterday and now he somehow decided to buy the cabin. There is a mountain of questions forming in Sasha's mind. First and foremost: 'Are you insane?' closely followed by 'Is this a joke?' But the absolute certainty in Leon's expression and the reassuring touch to his shoulder that follows has the first impulse of irritable bewilderment simmer down to a more mellowed out wave of confusion.

"Are you sure?"

He asks uselessly, knowing it won't make a difference in Leon's answer. If he's learned one thing from the time they spent together it's that Leon doesn't waver in his decisions once he's set his mind to it. It still doesn't change the fact that Sasha has trouble processing what he's suggesting. He's willing to buy a cabin for him, because Sasha has trouble maneuvering in it? The fact that Leon already decided to make the changes to the cabin Mikael did agree to was already enough to have Sasha feel deeply touched, but this...

[What's going on?] Mikael asks while Sasha is still fighting down a wave of deep gratitude and affection, not wanting to embarrass himself infront of the older man, or infront of his friend.

[He—] Sasha has to clear his throat, voice coming out too quiet, too touched initally. [He is asking the price of the cabin.] Mikael blinks and Sasha can't blame him for the moment of dumbstruck silence that follows. Mikael looks between them a few times, Sasha's own surprise not having gone unnoticed.

Then, he laughs and names his price. It hasn't changed since last he tried to wrangle the money from Sasha, and Sasha admittedly thinks it is a reasonable one, if one had previously and thoroughly thought about spending any amount of money of a cabin in the woods of all places and not made this decision on a whim.

Regardless, Sasha turns back to Leon and after doing some quick math in his head he translates the number and giving a rough estimate of how much that would be in American dollars. The reasonable price still turns out to be a number that has him stumble over the words, but Leon appears unfazed.

"You're actually serious." Sasha says with now small amount of awe in his voice and an irritating flutter in his chest when Leon has the audacity to smirk at him.

Sasha scoffs when Leon brings up teaching him pickup lines, but he can't hide the amusement crinkling his eyes and lightening his tone as he looks up at him. "Swear words I can do." He says. "But what on earth has you believe I'd be the right person to ask about pickup lines?" He shakes his head but continues down the aisle with the smile persisting in his expression. "I've been in exactly one relationship, and she asked me out."

He stops in his tracks then, wheelchair coming to a halt. He is struck by how easily he said this just now. How easily he is able to talk about her in this moment. Previously, making even the smallest of remarks regarding her did twist a knife in his gutt, had him aching as if bleeding out from an open wound. But reminiscing about the day Irina finally had enough of dropping hints and downright demanded he take her out for dinner is not as painful as it once was. It still hurts to think of her, the grief persists even now and there won't be a day in his life when he won't miss her for the person she was and it's much the same for JD. He'd ever wish things would have turned out different, and he will always feel guilty for dragging him into a fight not his own. bBt Sasha won't let that grief and guilt possess him anymore, he won't let it corrupt him. He's been down that path and it nearly took everything from him.

In fact, the reason he is still here, looking toward the future rather than succumbing to the rage and guilt that swept him up during the war is standing beside him now. Joking about Sasha teaching him his mother tongue one inappropriate word at a time. And somehow that has him smile a little brighter.

Until Leon points out that there is someone staring at them. Sasha turns and immediately recognizes the man. "That's the man we're renting the cabin from." Sasha explains, realizing belatedly that Leon stayed by the car on their day of arrival and Sasha went to pick up the key by himself. Sasha didn't think much of it at the time, but now he wonders if Leon deliberately stayed behind that evening to keep the potential suspicion of the man to a minimum.

Well, there is not much to be done about it now, so to avoid any awkwardness Sasha raises a hand to greet the man standing a ways away from them before he begins wheeling himself over. [Hey there] Comes the gruff but not unfriendly greeting from the older man when they're within earshot and Sasha nods in acknowledgement before returning the greeting.

He gestures at Leon, meaning to introduce the two men to eachother officially. [This is Leon, he's been helping me get settled after... everything.] He avoids the older man's eyes as his brows furrow and his expression morphs into something uncomfortably close to pity. Then he looks up at Leon, while indicating the older man. "This is Mikael."

With introductions out of the way conversation moves on to stilted but overall friendly smalltalk, with Sasha playing intermediary between the other two men.

[You two here to get materials for the construction work you plan to do?] Mikael asks and Sasha shrugs. [Just for the ramps. We're not going to touch the doorframes. We won't go against our word.]

[Listen, I'm sorry, but I really can't just have you up and change the entire thing on a whim.] Mikael says and Sasha shakes his head. [I know. And I'm not holding it against you.]

Mikael looks at the wheelchair and Sasha has to do everything in his power to not squirm under what he perceives to be an almost scrutinizing gaze. [Is it really that hard to move around?]

Sasha presses his lips together, not translating what Mikael just said into English since he is overcome by a wave of shame, memories of the last couple of days coming back to mind. Not least of all the moment in the bathroom and this morning. [I told you. It's not as much moving around as it is the chair not fitting through the doorframes. Leon has to ... he has to help me. Often.] It comes out curt and a little rough around the edges. Sasha knows Leon noticed that the conversation involves him in some way, having heard his name and likely noticed the brief glances Sasha threw his way. But right now he can't bring himself to explain.

It's then that Mikael takes pity on him, trying to stir the conversation away from the heavy topic. [He seems like a good guy. ... For an American.] He crosses his arms infront of his chest. [Tell him thank you from me for taking care of you, and sorry about saying no. Go on. He seems a little lost.]

Sasha blinks up at Mikael, a little startled by the request. It takes him another moment but then he awkwardly shifts in his seat and turns to Leon, who indeed seems a bit confused by the whole exchange. "He says thank you, for taking care of me." Sasha's ears burn while saying so, but he has to agree with the sentiment regardless, which makes it even worse tonsay it out loud. "...And he apologizes for not letting us make changes to the cabin."

[aureatescars]

Sasha can't blame Leon for the violent reaction. He still feels like he might collapse where he is standing, too. Complexion pale and head swimming with racing thoughts. He's sick to his stomach, hands shaking when he places one against Leon's shoulder after following him to the sink. It's the helplessness most of all that gets to him, the same he sees mirrored in Leon's eyes, his cheeks just as stained with tears as Sasha's own until he angrily wipes them away.

Sasha in turn is too choked up to speak, words desert him as he is once again faced with a catastrophy he cannot hope to weather. No amount of words will make this better. It goes beyond his understanding the sheer scale of this atrocity commited.

What are we supposed to do against that?

I don't know. Sasha thinks, but chokes on the words when he reads the righteous anger in Leon's expression. He's seen it before after they met Emma and her father, just before Leon begged him to understand that he can't turn away from this.

The shaking becomes worse when Leon moves and Sasha's hand slips from his shoulder. It's not intentional, or at least Sasha doesn't think it is. It's Leon turning to shut off the faucet, or to face him, but something inside Sasha snaps at the sudden lack of contact and immediately his hand returns to Leon's shoulder, grasping harshly, fingers digging violently into the fabric of his shirt. As if he'd slip away if he doesn't hold on, just like Irina did.

She's gone. His students are gone. They're all dead. His home is destroyed. His life lies in pieces on the floor at his feet and the only thing he still has is—

"Leon—" It's a small and choked up thing, and Sasha doesn't think he's ever heard himself sound so pathetically weak. He can't even find the strength to attempt forming a sentence. He can barely see through the haze of tears. He feels hot and cold all at once. It's just too much, all of it. His ribs throb, his head pounds and all he wants is for it all to stop. Just for a moment. Just for one moment he needs to not ache inside and out. He just needs to breathe.

He pulls Leon against him and hides his face in his hair. It's close to the very first hug they shared, just as desperate, but laced with a dark desolate feeling of helpless grief. Sasha tries hard to be mindful of Leon's injury, but the truth of the matter is that in this moment he's terrified of letting go, of even giving so much as an inch because he cannot bear losing him. Not now, not ever and most definitely not to this.

Sasha spent the entirety of the way back to the house thinking about how he’d break the news to Leon and he comes up empty each time. An entire city levelled. Hundreds of thousands of people exterminated, infected or not. If it wasn’t for the deepseated look of sympathy on the principal’s face he can recall clearly from earlier, he might have been able to slip into denial, to pretend that what she told him isn’t the truth until presented with more evidence.

But why would she lie to him about something like this? And knowing at least in part of the sheer scale of Umbrella’s operation from what they found in NEST, Sasha doesn’t have trouble believing that someone within Umbrella’s ranks has the ability to pull the strings to provoke whoever is in charge into containing the virus before it can spread by means of a grand scale missile strike.

Sasha is aware of Leon’s concern. Leon is no fool, he is already putting the pieces together without Sasha having to say anything concrete. His question suggests as much and Sasha… just nods and then takes Leon’s hand to pull him the rest of the way to the house.

They make their way inside, Sasha’s still trembling hand struggling with the key for a moment before he lets them in.

With jackets and shoes quickly abandoned Sasha guides Leon to the living room, his own legs still feeling like theyay give out at any moment. He has Leon sit down first regardless, before following suit, still holding his hand. It takes him a long moment to gather his thoughts again, shock still permeating his entire being. But in the end there is no way other than the direct one.

However, Sasha starts with an apology. “I’m sorry, I know we said to keep that we’re from Raccoon City to ourselves, but she asked where I taught before and— I… I just had to tell her. And then she… she told me they've—” He clears his throat when he realizes how roughed his voice is. “They’ve issued a missile strike against Raccoon City a few days ago.” The words fall heavy and awkard between them and he can see the color drain from Leon’s face when he grasps the meaning of what Sasha is saying. “The city was exterminated.” No matter how many survivors there still were. Infected or not, every single citizen still within city bounds was deemed not worth saving.

They’re all dead.

[aureatescars]

How Sasha feels impossibly closer to Leon riding on seperate bikes at breakneck speed through the city than he would pressed close to his back is beyond him. But every turn and every maneuver to overtake the other has him convinced they're even breathing in synch. It's exhilarating, exciting and all together so different from anything Sasha dared to even consider trying before reuniting with Leon. It's almost as if he's stronger now with him here than he was in those years apart. And reasonably none of this should be able to make him feel this much better in such a short period of time.

But with his heartbeat and the rush of blood in his ears only drowned out by the sound of Leon's voice coming over the intercom Sasha couldn't care less about probability or how strong he should and should not be feeling.

He's buzzing with energy by the tome they come to a stop near their destination, the purr of the hikes' engined fading into silence as they both turn them off. Sasha sees Leon take a breather, settling back in the seat for a moment before he takes off his helmet, but Sasha is already off the bike by the time Leon turns to him. His smile a brilliant line of teeth and its brightness matching the blue of his eyes. Sasha wants to kiss him. Needs to.

And thus he pulls the helmet off while already moving towards him, now holding the piece of gear in one gloved hand while the other already tilts Leon's head back for better access, fitting their lips together in one smooth movement, instinctively angling his head to make them fit perfectly. Leon shudders under his touch when Sasha's hand moves to his nape, the leather of his gloves whispering through the short strands of hair. It's almost as if he can feel the touch echo between them, the want, the blind trust, it's all right there.

It's a good thing they chose a spot to park their bikes a little ways away from other people. Tucked away between two bigger cars in the parking lot it affords them moment of relative privacy in which Sasha can finally try and calm down again. He presses their foreheads together when they finally part, drunk on adrenaline and this feeling of belonging he's not sure he has ever felt before. It's not as much pure want as it is joy and gratitude and affection all rolled into one and disbelief over finding it so unexpectedly in Leon.

He pulls away at last, a smile tugging at his own lips. "I didn't." He admits, but there is no melancholy to his tone. "But you've proven me wrong yet again." His face is flushed, his eyes shine with amusement. He's feeling a little too warm from the ride and the kiss, and reaches up to unzip his jacket, shaking his head in disbelief when Leon's eyes track the movement and catch on the smallest sliver of exposed skin around his collar bone. It's not like Sasha is immune to the sight Leon makes either, still leaned back on the bike, his hair just a little bit tousled from the helmet and his face and eyes betraying the same want Sasha feels coiling within himself, it makes Sasha want to reach out and see just hiw far they'd take it this time.

He runs his free hand through his hair and down his face, but it does little to shake the thought. He breathes in and out slowly attempting to steady himself. It really is all too easy to get lost in all of this. He needs to rein himself back in.

"Ready to head inside?" He asks, the slight rasp of his voice and the appreciative once over he gives his lover prove enough that Sasha isn't as composed after all of this as he's trying to appear.

Sasha has a hard time to not blatantly stare while Leon changes and then fails completely in keeping his thoughts from being broadcasted clearly on his expression once Leon is firmly clad in leather from head to toe. Sasha didn't consider motorcycle gear to be something he'd appreciate Leon wearing in this way. He certainly didn't expect his mouth to go dry and his own gear to end up feeling suspiciously tight from one moment to the next when Leon moves with such pointed confidence that Sasha thinks he must be playing it up deliberately. But then again, Leon makes anything and everything he wears look effortlessly attractive. After all, even a loose shirt and sweatpants had Sasha marvel at him earlier...granted that his own possessive streak may have played a part in that, seeing as Leon was wearing his clothes up until now.

Sasha shrugs his own leather jacket on, zipping it up as he goes and then leads Leon back to the bikes. He walks infront of him so he doesn't have to address the suspicious flush coloring his cheeks and ears when Leon gives him a knowing look.

He is momentarily distracted when they make their way back to the garage and he comes face to face with the bike he'd looked at earlier. It's slightly daunting to even consider this, but he's felt stronger throughout today than he's felt on any given day during the past three years, more confident, too. although that may have something to do with the fact that Leon's given given him much and more reason to feel settled in his own body again. Not enough to entirely abandon his cane, which he struggles to store somewhere on the bike, but eventually settles on laying it behind him across the seat, pushing it through his belt loops to fasten it after he sits down.

Sasha turns to look at Leon then, face now mostly concealed by the helmet, but his eyes still show the mirth he feels, anticipation coiling within him at the first sound of another engine rising from slumber, the growl of it echoing in the garage.

"If you insist." He shoots back, Leon's own giddiness showing in every single one of his movements and infecting Sasha as well. He adjusts his gloves and then closes his tinted visor before he taps the side of his helmet once. A soft beep sounds, announcing the activation of the intercom within. A small light at the side of Leon's own helmet indicates his did as well.

Sasha's eyes stray to the tunnel leading back up to the surface and whatever reservatios may have persisted simply dissipate at the prospect of being able to have this, to experience this again. Sasha, much like Leon, kicks back the stand with one swift movement. He adjusts his position on the bike, tightening his grip with newfound confidence. Another press of a button and then he turns to Leon one more time as the big gate leading outside opens up behind him. Faint strips of light turn on on either side of the tunnel, stretching off into the dark.

His voice sounds over the intercom: "Try to keep up." And with that he lets instinct take over, leaning forward before shooting off into the tunnel. As he accelerates the sound of the engine bounces off the walls, the hum turning louder still as Sasha feels rather than sees or hears Leon gaining on him soon after. The rhythmic flicker of light and shadow soon leads them up to the surface. A slight breeze announces the outside world, the cityscape rushing towards them until, within a flash, they find themselves on route for the city highway where Sasha directs them East towards their destination.

Sasha's heart is pounding. His lips pull into a grin when Leon tries to pass him by on the mostly empty highway after Sasha gives him directions. A sense of elation overcomes him that even a small twinge of pain and discomfort in his back cannot hope to diminish. He can't remember when he last felt this alive or reckless.

Doesn't remember when he last felt like himself.

[aureatescars]

Sasha spent the entirety of the way back to the house thinking about how he'd break the news to Leon and he comes up empty each time. An entire city levelled. Hundreds of thousands of people exterminated, infected or not. If it wasn't for the deepseated look of sympathy on the principal's face he can recall clearly from earlier, he might have been able to slip into denial, to pretend that what she told him isn't the truth until presented with more evidence.

But why would she lie to him about something like this? And knowing at least in part of the sheer scale of Umbrella's operation from what they found in NEST, Sasha doesn't have trouble believing that someone within Umbrella's ranks has the ability to pull the strings to provoke whoever is in charge into containing the virus before it can spread by means of a grand scale missile strike.

Sasha is aware of Leon's concern. Leon is no fool, he is already putting the pieces together without Sasha having to say anything concrete. His question suggests as much and Sasha... just nods and then takes Leon's hand to pull him the rest of the way to the house.

They make their way inside, Sasha's still trembling hand struggling with the key for a moment before he lets them in.

With jackets and shoes quickly abandoned Sasha guides Leon to the living room, his own legs still feeling like theyay give out at any moment. He has Leon sit down first regardless, before following suit, still holding his hand. It takes him a long moment to gather his thoughts again, shock still permeating his entire being. But in the end there is no way other than the direct one.

However, Sasha starts with an apology. "I'm sorry, I know we said to keep that we're from Raccoon City to ourselves, but she asked where I taught before and— I... I just had to tell her. And then she... she told me they've—" He clears his throat when he realizes how roughed his voice is. "They've issued a missile strike against Raccoon City a few days ago." The words fall heavy and awkard between them and he can see the color drain from Leon's face when he grasps the meaning of what Sasha is saying. "The city was exterminated." No matter how many survivors there still were. Infected or not, every single citizen still within city bounds was deemed not worth saving.

They're all dead.

Sasha exhales slowly as he looks up at the old building. He takes in the weathered facade of the clock tower overlooking the area. It reminds him faintly of the Police Department back in Raccoon City and for a moment it even appears to him in that same way. It’s almost as if he can feel the rain on his face again, the heat of the fire from the destroyed cars around him, the burning of smoke in his lungs. Darkness closes in on him with faceless monsters moaning in the distance.

Salvation comes in the form of Leon leaning into him, pulling him back from painful memories. He blinks. The darkness fades. The sun once again warm against his skin even though the wind of fall tugs at him, too. Sasha quickly fights the memories down with a shake of his head, focuses instead on all the differences between then and now. Some trees peek over the brick wall surrounding the schoolyard and when the two of them make their way towards the entrance they can hear the hustle and bustle of playing children. They must be just in time for recess ending, because the bell chimes and soon the sound of young voices calling out and footsteps running around becomes quieter until it fades entirely.

Leon asks whether or not he should come with him and Sasha has to fight the urge to look for one of his hands with his own immediately. He refrains from reaching out in the end, but he can’t bear the thought of parting ways with Leon.

“I’m sure the principal’s office has a waiting area.” He says and just manages to keep the tremble out of his voice. “And it’s a bit cold to wait out here, don’t you think?”Another deeper breath and then Sasha takes the last few steps towards the door with Leon following closely behind.

They announce themselves to the security guard at the front door and after explaining what they’re there for he directs them down the hall and they make their way further into the building. Much as the outside suggests, the interior of the school is a little dated, but the hallway looks a lot like what Sasha remembers from the school he worked at before, if more colorful. This is an elementary school after all.

Fluorescent lighting hums overhead as they make their way down the main hallway. They pass by a variety of classroom doors with brightly colored lockers lining the walls inbetween. They’re decorated with stickers and labeled with names in different colors. All of them smaller and closer to the ground than what Sasha remembers from the high school back in Raccoon City. A few bulletin boards hang on the far side of the hallway with posters and paper crafts posted upon them.

They turn down another hallway after finding a sign directing them towards the principal’s office. The color of the wall changes from a bright yellow to a more muted beige, suggesting that they’ve made it to the part of the school that’s more for administrative purposes.

Sasha spies another door that’s labeled teachers’ lounge on one side, but doesn’t spare it much more than a glance. He’d have to actually get the job first before having to worry about commiting all of this to memory.

At last, they arrive at their destination. A door looking like any other they’ve past so far, but labeled as the principal’s office by the small sign to the side. There are some chairs placed in a row along the opposite side of the door, the waiting area Sasha expected would be here.

He gives Leon a look and tries for a smile, even though the nerves and the tight ball of anxiety in his gut make it come out wobbly at best. He takes as deep a breath as his ribs will allow and then raises a hand to knock.

“Yes? Who is it?”

A voice sounds from inside, carrying a mix of authority and warmth.

“Alexander Kozachenko,” he says in answer, even though he has to clear his throat in order to sound a little firmer himself. “I’m … uh… I’m here for the— uh… Marie said that I should come by to… talk.”He winces and pointedly doesn’t look at Leon, already embarrassed by the meek first impression he just made.

“Please enter.”

This time Sasha does turn to look at Leon, and he must look about as nervous as he feels because Leon’s expression is one of deepseated sympathy.

“…See you in a bit.” Sasha tells him, fighting the slight tremble in his hand when he pushes the handle of the door down. It swings open to reveal an elderly woman sitting at a big wooden desk. The office is smaller than he would have thought, although the impression might be skewed by the wall behind her being lined with massive bookshelves filled with neatly labeled binders. The principal herself appears almost tiny in comparison to them and Sasha feels very awkward, towering over her as he does.

“Mr. Kozachenko.” She says with a smile as she stands, stepping around the table briefly to offer out a hand which he shakes with what he hopes to be an appropriate amount of strength. “Susanne Palmer. Pleasure to make your acquaintance. Please, close the door and have a seat.” She gestures for him to sit down opposite her as she returns to her chair.

“I’m glad we get to meet after all, I remember your application from earlier this year, I believe? I’m sorry, as this is a bit of an impromptu meeting I don’t have the files on hand.”

Sasha nods. “That's— That’s correct.” It feels like a lifetime ago that he sent out application letters. He clears his throat again, leaning forward in his seat, adjusting so he isn’t tempted to keep shifting nervously the entire time. “My contract with the high school I was working at was terminated unexpectedly , so I had to start looking into other opportunities.”

Mrs. Palmer nods. The window to her right casts her her face in bright light that softens her gentle expression even further. “I hope you don’t mind me asking, but is there any particular reason you’ve waited until now to contact the school again?”

Sasha casts his eyes down, wringing his hands. It’s a valid question, given that he received the offer nearly two months ago. It takes him a moment to even remember what his reasoning had been to wait, but in the end it does come down to him never having had the confidence to bring it up to Irina that he may have to take a job opportunity that would have them move across state… or make their relationship one of longer distance. “It’s… complicated.” He sighs deeply, face scrunching up briefly when his ribs give a slight throb of pain.

He remembers Leon as well as Claire and even Marie and Dave cautioning all of them to keep what happened in Raccoon City close to their chest and avoid talking about it outside their circle, and it’s not like he wants to tell a stranger about any of it either— So, he doesn’t.

“I was still to sit down with my… my fiancee to talk about it.” He stumbles over the word, fingers clenching tightly into eachother, knuckles turning white as even just thinking about Irina leaves him winded. “But things were… They were complicated.” He says it again, realizing that he must sound like a broken record. He shifts forward in his seat again, putting his hands on the table in front of him to look at the principal, only to immediately fold under her gaze.

“I’m aware that this must sound like an excuse, and that it must seem like I am not invested enough to take this position seriously, but I—”

“Mr. Kozachenko?”

Mrs. Palmer’s voice is still gentle and quiet as she stops him mid sentence and when he looks up he finds her expression to be one of sympathy. “I can tell that you are very serious about the offer I have made you. Otherwise you’d not be here.” She folds her hands on the table, casting her own gaze downwards. “Excuse my prying.” She seems genuinely apologetic as she says so. “Marie has told me about your loss.” She says then and Sasha is glad that he is sitting down, for the words acknowledging Irina’s death, spoken by a stranger is enough to make him feel winded and helpless. “I should have known better than to push for an explanation just to satisfy my own curiosity. It was in bad taste.” She clears her throat. “Let me emphasize again: we do not have to treat this as an official interview. Marie asked me whether I’d be willing to help a new acquaintance of hers find their footing again and I figured getting to know you would be the logical next step.”

She takes a deeper breath, gathering herself. She adjusts the small round glasses she is wearing and looks at him again. “Let us start over?”

Sasha merely nods. He doesn’t have any words right now. Mrs. Palmer adjusts her glasses again and Sasha is certain that this is the most awkward conversation he has had in a long time.

“Why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself? What are your subjects of expertise? What has drawn you to teaching?”

From then on the conversation flows easier. He tells her about the fact he is from the Eastern Slav, as he knows most people become curious about his accent the moment he opens his mouth to speak. He has to swallow thickly around the lump forming in his throat when he recounts Irina getting him into studying at a university back in the Eastern Slav and him eventually finding that he might actually be good at teaching given his interests in math, history and his knack for the English language.

Sasha also tells her about the subjects he has been teaching at the high school. Math and history, and mentions that he also has a third subject he can with English and a focus in English literature. Although he is aware that the latter is not necessarily the focus of elementary level classes.

In turn he learns that Mrs. Palmer’s late husband was from Poland and as a result they end up derailing their professional conversation to talk about a few recipes she learned from him and Sasha sharing a few of his mother’s in turn and feeling a little lighter and less anxious by the end of it.

But eventually the conversation circles back around to teaching and Mrs. Palmer asks a question that Sasha cannot in good faith omit the answer to.

“What school was it again you taught at here in the States?”

Sasha turns a little more pale. It still takes him a moment to answer, trying hard not to think about what may have become of his students, their parents, his colleagues. “…Raccoon City High School.”

He watches Mrs. Palmer’s composure slip for the first time then. Her eyes turn wide, becoming almost comically large with the distortion of her glasses added to them. “Is… Is something wrong?” He asks cautiously and only becomes more confused when the elderly woman reaches across the table to put a hand on his wrist, expression turning back to sympathetic.

“I’m very sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. If only I had your file on hand I would have known to keep quiet—” Sasha interrupts. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think I follow?”

In turn, she blinks at him. “Raccoon City… that’s the city the government issued a missile strike against, is it not?”

Sasha’s heart drops, face turning white as a sheet. “…What?” He asks breathlessly.

“A few days ago,” she says, voice more quiet, barely above a whisper. “On the news it was said that they did it to prevent some type of terminal disease from spreading.” She furrows her brows at him. “You didn’t know?”

“I…”

His gaze wavers, searching her face for something that might suggest this is all a cruel joke. But he finds nothing other than honesty. He watches as she presses her lips together in a tight line. Shortly after she seems to come to a decision. “Mr. Kozachenko,” she says. “I think we should continue this conversation some other time.” She gets up from her chair and comes to stand beside him, a hand alighting gently on his shoulder.

“How about you go home and rest?” Mrs. Palmer says and Sasha barely hears her over the rush of blood and his pounding heartbeat in his ears. He shakes his head to get rid of the worst of the shock, but his eyes are still rounded with it when he looks at her.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I truly am.” And Sasha believes her. “But still, let me assure you that I very much enjoyed meeting you and I’d love to talk with you some more. Maybe next time we can talk about what you in turn expect from this position.” She reaches across her desk and hands him a card with a name and a number on it. “Please, give me a call when you’ve settled here in Red Oak. Marie told me you’re staying on one of her properties.

Sasha nods, blinking down at the card in his hand, not really reading what is on there. He tries to gather himself with another deep breath and when he finally doesn’t feel like he will fall over the moment he stands, he rises to his feet.

He looks down at the old lady, sees how tense she has become in the past few minutes as well. Regret knits his brows together over the fact that he made their first meeting so incredibly awkward. “I’m the one that has to apologize for not putting my best foot forward today. I really appreciate you inviting me here. Truly, it means… It means the world.”

She smiles and reaches out her hand for him to shake again, and when he does, she covers their joined hands with her other. “We are a tight-knit community here in Red Oak and I’m sure you’ll fit right in, given time. Don’t be a stranger if you ever need anything, dear.”

He manages to give her a smile, but it’s barely more than a tired curl of lips. “Thank you.” He withdraws his hand from her and bids his goodbye, reaching for the door. He feels unsteady on his feet still, but he makes it outside and closes the door behind him again. His head once again feels to full of thoughts, left with another devastating discovery as he is. He turns and looks up, finds Leon’s eyes and it takes everything he has, every little bit of frazzled composure left within him to not reach for him and break down in his arms.

He must look the part, too, because Leon’s expression morphs from curiosity to concern immediately. Sasha shakes his head. “Not here.” He says quietly, having no strength left to mask the tremor in his voice. “I... I need some air.”

[aureatescars]

The wolf broadens his stance, fur at the back of his neck still standing up, making him appear even bigger than he already is. It doesn't take an expert to gauge that he doesn't like this one bit and the anxious energy bleeds into Sasha's still frazzled mind as well, instinct of the wolf and the intellect of the man battling to settle on how to handle this situation. The wolf snarls and then growls out in a low rumbling sound, but when his companion's hand burries into his fur the wolf momentarily quiets down, glancing up at the man beside him before lowering his head, allowing himself to huff out a breath and simply wait.

It's not just the wolf that's uneasy, Sasha isn't looking forward to this next part either. He's never been too fond of open water, and even though the lake lies still enough, they now know what lurks beneath. Sasha also doesn't like the idea of having to maneuver in a swaying boat on all fours. The wolf isn't meant for this. Hell, even in his human form Sasha wouldn't trust himself to hold his balance all that well in his current state.

In the end, he is given no choice in the matter. Or rather he is given one, if the other man's expression is anything to go by when they reach the boat. But Sasha doesn't give him the time to voice any sort of reassurance. He doesn't want to hear that he can stay behind, that the other man would come back.

No. Instead, Sasha pushes past his friend and (carefully) hops into the swaying boat after the man's done inspecting it. Sasha must look awkward standing there in the boat, legs a little wobbly on the swaying surface. His claws scrape uselessly over the varnished wood beneath his paws, his hind leg briefly tangling in some rope and fishing gear and other junk piled at the bottom. He struggles to find his footing for a moment longer and then his ears pin back when he sees the man still standing at the pier breathe out in what seems to be a small laugh.

The wolf lets out a gruff noise in return. A cross between an annoyed huff and a uncertain whine when the boat shakes as Leon gets in as well. It's not a noise he is particularly proud of, but it earns him another scratch behind the ears and a gentle pat down his back and somehow he already feels more steady where he is standing.

Enough so that he turns around to look out over the lake again, eyes fixing on the waves the wind is blowing across the surface. He doesn't sense that thing anywhere close to them right now, but it's definitely still there lurking in the deep, waiting to strike. The wolf tenses, ears flicking back briefly when the engine starts puttering behind him, but he doesn't take his eyes off the water's surface. There isn't much he can do right now, but if he's attentive enough he might be able to alert his companion of any impending danger before it is too late.

Sasha does his utmost to not melt under the gentle touches the man provides. He can feel him pause whenever his fingers tangle in his fur where one of his scars resides, the skin uneven, hisbfur askew. As a wolf they are mostly hidden fro sight under the thick coat of fur, but his wolf's marks are his own. If he were to shift back to his human form, the mark from the trap may still be visible on his ankle for a time, given that the bear trap had been laced with wolfsbane, but anything other than wounds inflicted by other wolves rarely left permanent scars. The damage needs to be excessive or the weaponry used to harm him enhanced with things like silver or wolfsbane as the trap had been if they were to even slow him down.

Still, he's been beaten and hurt many times over while trying to fend off the cultists and the villagers, running himself rugged while exploring all over the area. At first, in search of members of his pack, but eventually just resorting to desperately trying to find anyone still of sound mind and body until his wolf took over entirely when one by one his pack's presence seemed to blink out of existence.

Sasha can't possibly recall just how many injuries he's suffered since then, he only remembers running and running and running. Who knows how many scars and marks were added to those old ones suffered during fights over territory or rank? Sasha hasn't looked at himself in a mirror in weeks. He isn't aure if he'd even recognize the man staring back at him if he did...

He is stirred from his ruminations by the other adressing him directly. You've gone through a rough time, too, huh, Buddy? The man asks and Sasha has to fight the whine that threatens to rise from the agony nestled deep within him still. The nickname only exacerbating the sensation of longing and homesickness. But he manages to limit the manifestation of it to a deep inhale and exhale and then just angles his head slightly away from the hand petting him, the gentleness too much to bear when he's already crumbling under the weight of loss and grief.

But the wolf's ears still flick at the apology he hears next, and Sasha takes note of the quieter, almost dejected tone of voice in which the words are said. The fact that the man sees it necessary at all to apologize to what he currently believes to be an animal speaks for his character. He is angry, much like Sasha, but he's a good man, just trying to do that which is the best for those under his care. Sasha hopes that he will be able to do for the girl what Sasha could not for his own pack.

Sasha is pleased to see that the man has calmed down considerably, rational thinking taking precedence again. His wolf needs some convincing to move his head from the man's lap, reluctant to let go of the warmth and the tiniest semblance of pack he can get. Sasha shakes that thought and it manifests in the wolf stretching and shaking out his fur before nudging Leon's leg.

When his companion gets up, the wolf moves to stand beside the latch, pawing at the wood of the trapdoor to signal that he is indeed ready to move on. He's not deliberately trying to stall his new acquaintance in pursuing his objective after all, he just wanted him to not charge headfirst into danger while overcome by rage and fear.

Its still disorienting how readily Sasha goes along with his wolf's wishes to stick close to the stranger, but his inner wolf's... infatuation for this man aside Sasha considers anyone who stands against the cultists an ally. There is strength in numbers, and maybe, just maybe Sasha will be able to find other members of his pack who haven't succumbed to the darkness. And if nothing else, he'll do some damage to those that took everything from him.

Or he'll die trying.

He feels stronger after their short rest, too, more centered, less like a wild animal. The opportunity to take a breather allowed him to truly let his body focus on healing his own lingering pains and thankfully his leg has had enough time to heal to not be more than a twinge of discomfort every once in a while.

They make their way through the tunnel without so much as a peep from any of the villagers. But instead of putting them at ease, they both slow their pace, creeping through the dingy light, not trusting this supposed peace. But it still persists. The air becomes heavy with humidity the closer they get to the lake.

The wolf bristles when they step onto the wooden pier, an ominous feeling befalling Sasha as he looks out across the water. A deep growl rumbles in the wolf's throat. Teeth showing when instinct has him snarl. Something is out there.

And it's hungry.

A boat comes into view, driving out across the lake in the distance, two men are on board, lobbing something over the edge of the boat when they are far away from shore. Sasha realizes it's a human corpse and the feeling from before is now accompanied by disgust at the horrible things these people do... But it doesn't last long, because soon both make way to dread when the body that was dumped mere moments ago is swallowed whole within seconds by a gaping maw of teeth breaking through the water's surface.

God, what other monstrosities have these people created?

[aureatescars]

Sasha scoffs when Leon brings up teaching him pickup lines, but he can't hide the amusement crinkling his eyes and lightening his tone as he looks up at him. "Swear words I can do." He says. "But what on earth has you believe I'd be the right person to ask about pickup lines?" He shakes his head but continues down the aisle with the smile persisting in his expression. "I've been in exactly one relationship, and she asked me out."

He stops in his tracks then, wheelchair coming to a halt. He is struck by how easily he said this just now. How easily he is able to talk about her in this moment. Previously, making even the smallest of remarks regarding her did twist a knife in his gutt, had him aching as if bleeding out from an open wound. But reminiscing about the day Irina finally had enough of dropping hints and downright demanded he take her out for dinner is not as painful as it once was. It still hurts to think of her, the grief persists even now and there won't be a day in his life when he won't miss her for the person she was and it's much the same for JD. He'd ever wish things would have turned out different, and he will always feel guilty for dragging him into a fight not his own. bBt Sasha won't let that grief and guilt possess him anymore, he won't let it corrupt him. He's been down that path and it nearly took everything from him.

In fact, the reason he is still here, looking toward the future rather than succumbing to the rage and guilt that swept him up during the war is standing beside him now. Joking about Sasha teaching him his mother tongue one inappropriate word at a time. And somehow that has him smile a little brighter.

Until Leon points out that there is someone staring at them. Sasha turns and immediately recognizes the man. "That's the man we're renting the cabin from." Sasha explains, realizing belatedly that Leon stayed by the car on their day of arrival and Sasha went to pick up the key by himself. Sasha didn't think much of it at the time, but now he wonders if Leon deliberately stayed behind that evening to keep the potential suspicion of the man to a minimum.

Well, there is not much to be done about it now, so to avoid any awkwardness Sasha raises a hand to greet the man standing a ways away from them before he begins wheeling himself over. [Hey there] Comes the gruff but not unfriendly greeting from the older man when they're within earshot and Sasha nods in acknowledgement before returning the greeting.

He gestures at Leon, meaning to introduce the two men to eachother officially. [This is Leon, he's been helping me get settled after... everything.] He avoids the older man's eyes as his brows furrow and his expression morphs into something uncomfortably close to pity. Then he looks up at Leon, while indicating the older man. "This is Mikael."

With introductions out of the way conversation moves on to stilted but overall friendly smalltalk, with Sasha playing intermediary between the other two men.

[You two here to get materials for the construction work you plan to do?] Mikael asks and Sasha shrugs. [Just for the ramps. We're not going to touch the doorframes. We won't go against our word.]

[Listen, I'm sorry, but I really can't just have you up and change the entire thing on a whim.] Mikael says and Sasha shakes his head. [I know. And I'm not holding it against you.]

Mikael looks at the wheelchair and Sasha has to do everything in his power to not squirm under what he perceives to be an almost scrutinizing gaze. [Is it really that hard to move around?]

Sasha presses his lips together, not translating what Mikael just said into English since he is overcome by a wave of shame, memories of the last couple of days coming back to mind. Not least of all the moment in the bathroom and this morning. [I told you. It's not as much moving around as it is the chair not fitting through the doorframes. Leon has to ... he has to help me. Often.] It comes out curt and a little rough around the edges. Sasha knows Leon noticed that the conversation involves him in some way, having heard his name and likely noticed the brief glances Sasha threw his way. But right now he can't bring himself to explain.

It's then that Mikael takes pity on him, trying to stir the conversation away from the heavy topic. [He seems like a good guy. ... For an American.] He crosses his arms infront of his chest. [Tell him thank you from me for taking care of you, and sorry about saying no. Go on. He seems a little lost.]

Sasha blinks up at Mikael, a little startled by the request. It takes him another moment but then he awkwardly shifts in his seat and turns to Leon, who indeed seems a bit confused by the whole exchange. "He says thank you, for taking care of me." Sasha's ears burn while saying so, but he has to agree with the sentiment regardless, which makes it even worse tonsay it out loud. "...And he apologizes for not letting us make changes to the cabin."

"Not that I know off." He answers, wheeling himself towards the entrance of the store, Leon by his side. He's glad that Leon doesn't immediately go to push the wheelchair for him, but rather lets him maneuver on his own unless asked for assistance. Sasha still appreciates Leon opening the door for him without him having to ask for it. It feels almost normal like this. Sasha is happy to not have to pull attention to every little thing that gets in his way and judging from the lack of a pointed look or any verbal indication on Leon's part he didn't even really think about doing it either, as if it comes naturally to him by now to accommodate for Sasha.

An odd feeling of warmth overcomes him, knowing that Leon cares enough to account for things like this by now, although it is also slightly tainted by him wishing that it wasn't like this, that things like closed doors and uneven pathing weren't obstacles to overcome. Sasha pulls himself away from those thoughts, focussing on what Leon is saying instead.

He considers it. "An electric screwdriver, a power drill, nails and screws..." He keeps adding to Leon's list, and Leon chimes in with a few more ideas as well. Measuring tape, a level, "...Some work gloves and protective eyewear, too." Sasha gives Leon a pointed look. "I will not have you injure yourself on my watch."

When they come to a halt in the entryway of the store to orientate themselves Leon brings another thing back to his attention. It's easy to forget when it's just them, but Leon's knowledge of Russian is limited and he's relying entirely on Sasha here, and readily, too as it seems. Somehow that makes Sasha feel a little better about himself, like he is finally doing his part in their little arrangement.

"Of course." He says without hesitation, not entirely unaware of the curious and borderline distrustful glances they're receiving while they keep speaking English. But before they seek out an employee to guide them, Sasha takes stock of their surroundings, reading a few signs which are already helpful enough in directing him where to go. "Tools should be this way. Let's go from there."

As they make their way down the aisle to get to the tools Sasha looks up at Leon. "Do you want me to teach you a few more words and phrases?" Sasha knows Leon has some understanding of his native language. He's heard him greet people and thank the staff at the hospital and the clerk at the gas station at the very least. But Sasha wouldn't mind teaching him at all. In fact, he finds he's quietly hopeful that Leon will agree, although he isn't entirely sure as to why.

[aureatescars]

Sasha has a hard time to not blatantly stare while Leon changes and then fails completely in keeping his thoughts from being broadcasted clearly on his expression once Leon is firmly clad in leather from head to toe. Sasha didn't consider motorcycle gear to be something he'd appreciate Leon wearing in this way. He certainly didn't expect his mouth to go dry and his own gear to end up feeling suspiciously tight from one moment to the next when Leon moves with such pointed confidence that Sasha thinks he must be playing it up deliberately. But then again, Leon makes anything and everything he wears look effortlessly attractive. After all, even a loose shirt and sweatpants had Sasha marvel at him earlier...granted that his own possessive streak may have played a part in that, seeing as Leon was wearing his clothes up until now.

Sasha shrugs his own leather jacket on, zipping it up as he goes and then leads Leon back to the bikes. He walks infront of him so he doesn't have to address the suspicious flush coloring his cheeks and ears when Leon gives him a knowing look.

He is momentarily distracted when they make their way back to the garage and he comes face to face with the bike he'd looked at earlier. It's slightly daunting to even consider this, but he's felt stronger throughout today than he's felt on any given day during the past three years, more confident, too. although that may have something to do with the fact that Leon's given given him much and more reason to feel settled in his own body again. Not enough to entirely abandon his cane, which he struggles to store somewhere on the bike, but eventually settles on laying it behind him across the seat, pushing it through his belt loops to fasten it after he sits down.

Sasha turns to look at Leon then, face now mostly concealed by the helmet, but his eyes still show the mirth he feels, anticipation coiling within him at the first sound of another engine rising from slumber, the growl of it echoing in the garage.

"If you insist." He shoots back, Leon's own giddiness showing in every single one of his movements and infecting Sasha as well. He adjusts his gloves and then closes his tinted visor before he taps the side of his helmet once. A soft beep sounds, announcing the activation of the intercom within. A small light at the side of Leon's own helmet indicates his did as well.

Sasha's eyes stray to the tunnel leading back up to the surface and whatever reservatios may have persisted simply dissipate at the prospect of being able to have this, to experience this again. Sasha, much like Leon, kicks back the stand with one swift movement. He adjusts his position on the bike, tightening his grip with newfound confidence. Another press of a button and then he turns to Leon one more time as the big gate leading outside opens up behind him. Faint strips of light turn on on either side of the tunnel, stretching off into the dark.

His voice sounds over the intercom: "Try to keep up." And with that he lets instinct take over, leaning forward before shooting off into the tunnel. As he accelerates the sound of the engine bounces off the walls, the hum turning louder still as Sasha feels rather than sees or hears Leon gaining on him soon after. The rhythmic flicker of light and shadow soon leads them up to the surface. A slight breeze announces the outside world, the cityscape rushing towards them until, within a flash, they find themselves on route for the city highway where Sasha directs them East towards their destination.

Sasha's heart is pounding. His lips pull into a grin when Leon tries to pass him by on the mostly empty highway after Sasha gives him directions. A sense of elation overcomes him that even a small twinge of pain and discomfort in his back cannot hope to diminish. He can't remember when he last felt this alive or reckless.

Doesn't remember when he last felt like himself.

Sasha is no longer able to hide the smile on his face as he watches Leon inspect the bikes with near childish glee. Another tidbit of Leon's past is neatly stored away and then he follows him over to the bike he has chosen, throat going dry when the practiced ease of Leon's movements as he straddles the bike have him consider all kinds of ways to use these vehicles besides their intended purposes.

And of course, Leon catches him out on his train of thought immediately, and Sasha's eyes snap up to Leon's from where they were taking in the line of his body. There is a telltale tint of red to the tip of his ears at Leon being able to read him so easily, but Sasha doesn't let it deter him from leaning closer. He reaches out a hand to tilt Leon's chin up with on finger, his thumb resting just below his lower lip. "Quite a few things," he says in a low voice, a little breathlessy, too, but he's aware of the surveillance cameras in the garage and of the fact they're both just about at their limit physically. Another time. Sasha thinks, since he now knows that Leon might not be as opposed to continuing this in the future as he initially thought.

Still, Sasha doesn't stop himself as the urge to fit his lips against Leon's own overcomes him once more. He leans in, hand moving to cradle the back of Leon's head. Sasha kisses him slowly, with intent, but pulls back before either of them can make this into anything more just yet.

He kisses Leon's cheek in quiet apology. "Not here ' He whispers with a pointed look towards on of the cameras in the corner of the room as he pulls away again. But despite his words he has to steady himself with a deeper breath when Leon remains in his previous position after he leans back, making him look even more enticing now that his own eyes have darkened and his cheeks gained a suspicious hint of red as well.

Sasha has to physically turn himself away to not give in to temptation. He is left facing down the row of bikes again, his earlier words ring true still. He hasn't driven anything himself in a little over three years and rational thinking cautions him to not overdo anything now that he has finally had a day where his back and legs function the way they're supposed to.

And the thing is: he wants to. He wants to push himself and see just how much his body can take and finally find back to normalcy. He's been playing it safe for so long now. He runs a hand along the seat of a beautiful Vyrus Alyen 988 he is currently standing closest to and makes a decision.

However, he turns back around for now, leaving the bike where it is for now and gestures for Leon to follow him. "Come with me."

He leads Leon through a beside the row of displayed bikes. The design of the room they're now standing in is similar in design to the garage, but smaller in size with shelves lining the walls. A variety of helmets, shiner to perfection, sit on high-gloss surfaces. The bright lights reflect of the furniture, a stark contrast to the sleek leather jackets hung along the walls. The rest of the gear is folded in open shelving. Boots lined up neatly at the feet of a huge storage unit.

Sasha is already shrugging out of his suit jacket by the time they make it to the clothes. "There should be some that fit you. We keep a variety of sizes stocked here." Sasha anticipates the question as to why they would, but in the end Sasha doesn't answer, he simply shrugs.

I'm not the first Broker.

I likely won't be the last.

Sasha brushes the thought off, then tilts his head at Leon who still seems a bit overwhelmed. "Since you insist on choosing the bike, I have to provide us with some more fitting gear, yes?"

[aureatescars]

"Not that I know off." He answers, wheeling himself towards the entrance of the store, Leon by his side. He's glad that Leon doesn't immediately go to push the wheelchair for him, but rather lets him maneuver on his own unless asked for assistance. Sasha still appreciates Leon opening the door for him without him having to ask for it. It feels almost normal like this. Sasha is happy to not have to pull attention to every little thing that gets in his way and judging from the lack of a pointed look or any verbal indication on Leon's part he didn't even really think about doing it either, as if it comes naturally to him by now to accommodate for Sasha.

An odd feeling of warmth overcomes him, knowing that Leon cares enough to account for things like this by now, although it is also slightly tainted by him wishing that it wasn't like this, that things like closed doors and uneven pathing weren't obstacles to overcome. Sasha pulls himself away from those thoughts, focussing on what Leon is saying instead.

He considers it. "An electric screwdriver, a power drill, nails and screws..." He keeps adding to Leon's list, and Leon chimes in with a few more ideas as well. Measuring tape, a level, "...Some work gloves and protective eyewear, too." Sasha gives Leon a pointed look. "I will not have you injure yourself on my watch."

When they come to a halt in the entryway of the store to orientate themselves Leon brings another thing back to his attention. It's easy to forget when it's just them, but Leon's knowledge of Russian is limited and he's relying entirely on Sasha here, and readily, too as it seems. Somehow that makes Sasha feel a little better about himself, like he is finally doing his part in their little arrangement.

"Of course." He says without hesitation, not entirely unaware of the curious and borderline distrustful glances they're receiving while they keep speaking English. But before they seek out an employee to guide them, Sasha takes stock of their surroundings, reading a few signs which are already helpful enough in directing him where to go. "Tools should be this way. Let's go from there."

As they make their way down the aisle to get to the tools Sasha looks up at Leon. "Do you want me to teach you a few more words and phrases?" Sasha knows Leon has some understanding of his native language. He's heard him greet people and thank the staff at the hospital and the clerk at the gas station at the very least. But Sasha wouldn't mind teaching him at all. In fact, he finds he's quietly hopeful that Leon will agree, although he isn't entirely sure as to why.

He isn't exactly sure what kind of reaction he expected, maybe some snide comment, or a scoff, maybe just silence, but Leon demanding his phone from him to then pointedly punch his number into his contacts is not among the things he thought would happen. Sasha blinks up at him, amber eses a more round than before, lips slightly parted in surprise and expression betraying a hint of awe at what he is being told.

He looks down at the phone in his hand while Leon is already moving on with the conversation, as if he hasn't just agreed to keep being a part of Sasha's life even after their current arrangement runs it's course. It means much more to him than even Sasha realized it would, and the feeling of gratitude and warmth only deepens when he presses the call button and a few seconds later Leon's phone buzzes in his pocket.

Sasha ends the call as Leon pulls it out, unable to keep his lips from turning up into a small smile at the raised brow that greets him. Now they're even. If Leon wants him to, he'll offer the same in turn. "Thank you." Sasha says regardless, feeling a lot lighter somehow, as if a weight he didn't realize was there was lifted from his shoulders.

Saha stowes the phone away again, thumb running along its edge for a moment before he pulls himself away to answer Leon, grateful for the change in topic as well. "Can we stop by the grocery store again? I think I want to try and cook something proper tonight. We're missing a few things." He wheels himself over to the cabinet they've stored their meager supplies in, checking them over and making a mental note of all the things they forgot the day before. It's one of the lower cabinets that holds it all, one Sasha can actually reach.

"There is only so much instant soup I can handle." He says conversationally as he looks through the things they brought, and then pauses when Leon moves to put away the dried off bowls. For the first time Sasha notices that most utensils and even some plates and glasses have migrated from the upper cabinets to the lower ones and it can only mean that Leon moved them there after doing the dishes this morning.

Sasha's lips press together for a moment as the warm feeling from before returns and he has to actively pull himself out of his stupor to not get lost in it, feeling foolish that a small but mindful gesture would prove to shake him like this.

Between this and Leon's suggestion to build a ramp to help Sasha navigate the place more easily it is really becoming clear that Leon is trying hard to make this work, and lingering doubts and aches aside, Sasha owes it to him to do the same.

"How many Eastern Slavic dishes have you tried since you've come here?" He asks then and isn't exactly surprised when the number is suspiciously low. Sasha offers a few suggestions as they make their way to the car, feeling out what Leon is interested in trying while keeping the dishes that may be more of an acquired taste to himself for now. They end up sussing out a bit of a meal plan for the next few days as they make their way back into town, and for once conversation flows easily and without any awkwardness dispersed between statements.

[aureatescars]

He isn't exactly sure what kind of reaction he expected, maybe some snide comment, or a scoff, maybe just silence, but Leon demanding his phone from him to then pointedly punch his number into his contacts is not among the things he thought would happen. Sasha blinks up at him, amber eses a more round than before, lips slightly parted in surprise and expression betraying a hint of awe at what he is being told.

He looks down at the phone in his hand while Leon is already moving on with the conversation, as if he hasn't just agreed to keep being a part of Sasha's life even after their current arrangement runs it's course. It means much more to him than even Sasha realized it would, and the feeling of gratitude and warmth only deepens when he presses the call button and a few seconds later Leon's phone buzzes in his pocket.

Sasha ends the call as Leon pulls it out, unable to keep his lips from turning up into a small smile at the raised brow that greets him. Now they're even. If Leon wants him to, he'll offer the same in turn. "Thank you." Sasha says regardless, feeling a lot lighter somehow, as if a weight he didn't realize was there was lifted from his shoulders.

Saha stowes the phone away again, thumb running along its edge for a moment before he pulls himself away to answer Leon, grateful for the change in topic as well. "Can we stop by the grocery store again? I think I want to try and cook something proper tonight. We're missing a few things." He wheels himself over to the cabinet they've stored their meager supplies in, checking them over and making a mental note of all the things they forgot the day before. It's one of the lower cabinets that holds it all, one Sasha can actually reach.

"There is only so much instant soup I can handle." He says conversationally as he looks through the things they brought, and then pauses when Leon moves to put away the dried off bowls. For the first time Sasha notices that most utensils and even some plates and glasses have migrated from the upper cabinets to the lower ones and it can only mean that Leon moved them there after doing the dishes this morning.

Sasha's lips press together for a moment as the warm feeling from before returns and he has to actively pull himself out of his stupor to not get lost in it, feeling foolish that a small but mindful gesture would prove to shake him like this.

Between this and Leon's suggestion to build a ramp to help Sasha navigate the place more easily it is really becoming clear that Leon is trying hard to make this work, and lingering doubts and aches aside, Sasha owes it to him to do the same.

"How many Eastern Slavic dishes have you tried since you've come here?" He asks then and isn't exactly surprised when the number is suspiciously low. Sasha offers a few suggestions as they make their way to the car, feeling out what Leon is interested in trying while keeping the dishes that may be more of an acquired taste to himself for now. They end up sussing out a bit of a meal plan for the next few days as they make their way back into town, and for once conversation flows easily and without any awkwardness dispersed between statements.

Were he a smaller man, less inclined to admit his own faults he'd likely blame his lack of communication skill on the fact English isn't his first language, but he won't let himself sink that low. He is perfectly aware the words and tone he'd chosen just now, reckless and hasty as they were, were not for some arbitrary language barrier he could make up, but rather born from his own intrinsic inability to be anything but blunt.

But for all intents and purposes it's come out wrong and rather than set it right immediately, he decides to run away like a coward. Realizing at the last second that he's too close to revealing something he'd rather keep close to his chest for now. But if the way Leon's face fell just now is any indication, Sasha has another apology to formulate soon... after he lets Leon tell him how much of an ass he's being for the second time today.

Except, Leon doesn't raise his voice beyond the first curse and exclamation Sasha can hardly fault him for. Instead, he enters the kitchen silently after a short while and steps up beside Sasha at the sink, gesturing for the first bowl Sasha's been cleaning a little too thoroughly. Another olive branch, one more Sasha doesn't feel like he deserves.

Sasha remains silent at first, not trusting himself to not escalate this situation somehow, only to look up at Leon's profile in mild confusion and then looking away in shame at the words he is saying. That's not at all what he meant, nor is it the reason why there is a tight ball of anxiety forming inside his gut each time he thinks about Leon leaving. Not all of it, anyway.

Yes, he's afraid of what his life will turn out to be in the long run. He'd be lying if he said he isn't worried he won't manage even the most mundane of tasks on his own anymore. But more than he dreads being left alone, he dreads Leon leaving.

Say something. A voice in the back of his mind insists. It sounds suspiciously like JD.

"I don't think you're a jackass." He says eventually, and when Leon gives him a look, Sasha folds immediately. "...Not anymore at least" Much like when they first met, Leon still has a tremendous talent for getting on his nerves, that hasn't changed over the course of them getting to know eachother a little better these past weeks. Their temperaments clash quite a bit, but Sasha enjoys his company, more each day in fact.

Tell him.

Sasha sighs and then mumbles something under his breath. [Haunting me from the grave are you?] But he shakes his head and hands Leon the second bowl now that he's done needlessly wiping it down over and over.

"It's not about all that." He says and reaches a hand out for the towel when Leon sets the second bowl aside. Their fingers briefly brush when he takes the cloth, and he's quietly relieved when he finds Leon's fingers warm rather than still chilled from their earlier dive into the lake. Sasha dries his hands and puts the towel tothe side.

"That ... that message you got." He tries for an explaination. "She checked in to make sure you're alright, didn't she?" His brows furrow, he shifts in his chair, feeling uneasy under Leon's gaze. "I guess it reminded me that there isn't anyone left for me... All of my friends, they—" He trails off. No one would call him to make sure he is alright, they're all dead after all. He clears his throat to not let the thought get to him and keep his voice from wavering.

"—It's not an excuse." He adds. "I'm... I'm sorry that it came out the way it did. I didn't mean to accuse you of anything and I definitely don't mean to make you feel like any of this is your responsibility either, because none of this is." It's Sasha's life in ruins, but it's a destruction of his own making and while Sasha can see Leon's motivations for staying in the first place and for coming with him to this place were at least in part due to guilt, Sasha wouldn't hold it against him if he decided he'd just pack up and leave at any second.

But still, something sits at the back of his throat, something else he knows he should say, but he isn't sure how Leon would take it, and he dreads being mocked for something as sentimental of a notion as this after having given Leon nothing but a hard time about... everything really. He bites his tongue, then swallows thickly, hating how looking up at Leon from his wheelchair makes him feel small and insecure.

"I suppose what I'm really trying to say is, if you were to just disappear, I'd... miss you."

[aureatescars]

Were he a smaller man, less inclined to admit his own faults he'd likely blame his lack of communication skill on the fact English isn't his first language, but he won't let himself sink that low. He is perfectly aware the words and tone he'd chosen just now, reckless and hasty as they were, were not for some arbitrary language barrier he could make up, but rather born from his own intrinsic inability to be anything but blunt.

But for all intents and purposes it's come out wrong and rather than set it right immediately, he decides to run away like a coward. Realizing at the last second that he's too close to revealing something he'd rather keep close to his chest for now. But if the way Leon's face fell just now is any indication, Sasha has another apology to formulate soon... after he lets Leon tell him how much of an ass he's being for the second time today.

Except, Leon doesn't raise his voice beyond the first curse and exclamation Sasha can hardly fault him for. Instead, he enters the kitchen silently after a short while and steps up beside Sasha at the sink, gesturing for the first bowl Sasha's been cleaning a little too thoroughly. Another olive branch, one more Sasha doesn't feel like he deserves.

Sasha remains silent at first, not trusting himself to not escalate this situation somehow, only to look up at Leon's profile in mild confusion and then looking away in shame at the words he is saying. That's not at all what he meant, nor is it the reason why there is a tight ball of anxiety forming inside his gut each time he thinks about Leon leaving. Not all of it, anyway.

Yes, he's afraid of what his life will turn out to be in the long run. He'd be lying if he said he isn't worried he won't manage even the most mundane of tasks on his own anymore. But more than he dreads being left alone, he dreads Leon leaving.

Say something. A voice in the back of his mind insists. It sounds suspiciously like JD.

"I don't think you're a jackass." He says eventually, and when Leon gives him a look, Sasha folds immediately. "...Not anymore at least" Much like when they first met, Leon still has a tremendous talent for getting on his nerves, that hasn't changed over the course of them getting to know eachother a little better these past weeks. Their temperaments clash quite a bit, but Sasha enjoys his company, more each day in fact.

Tell him.

Sasha sighs and then mumbles something under his breath. [Haunting me from the grave are you?] But he shakes his head and hands Leon the second bowl now that he's done needlessly wiping it down over and over.

"It's not about all that." He says and reaches a hand out for the towel when Leon sets the second bowl aside. Their fingers briefly brush when he takes the cloth, and he's quietly relieved when he finds Leon's fingers warm rather than still chilled from their earlier dive into the lake. Sasha dries his hands and puts the towel tothe side.

"That ... that message you got." He tries for an explaination. "She checked in to make sure you're alright, didn't she?" His brows furrow, he shifts in his chair, feeling uneasy under Leon's gaze. "I guess it reminded me that there isn't anyone left for me... All of my friends, they—" He trails off. No one would call him to make sure he is alright, they're all dead after all. He clears his throat to not let the thought get to him and keep his voice from wavering.

"—It's not an excuse." He adds. "I'm... I'm sorry that it came out the way it did. I didn't mean to accuse you of anything and I definitely don't mean to make you feel like any of this is your responsibility either, because none of this is." It's Sasha's life in ruins, but it's a destruction of his own making and while Sasha can see Leon's motivations for staying in the first place and for coming with him to this place were at least in part due to guilt, Sasha wouldn't hold it against him if he decided he'd just pack up and leave at any second.

But still, something sits at the back of his throat, something else he knows he should say, but he isn't sure how Leon would take it, and he dreads being mocked for something as sentimental of a notion as this after having given Leon nothing but a hard time about... everything really. He bites his tongue, then swallows thickly, hating how looking up at Leon from his wheelchair makes him feel small and insecure.

"I suppose what I'm really trying to say is, if you were to just disappear, I'd... miss you."

Despite the earlier scare of dropping into the depths of a freezing lake sitting here alongside Leon, cozied up beneath a blanket, helps to unwind the worry and tension within Sasha, too. The beginnings of the headache he felt creeping up on him is soothed by the warmth and comfort of the cabin and when Leon's weight eventually sinks against his shoulder, barely touching, but nonetheless unmistakably there, Sasha finds himself almost ready to doze off after they're done with the soup. He is not really watching what's on the television screen, but rather just letting the calm of the moment overtake him, thoughts drifting off.

It's domestic in a sense nothing else in his life has been in quite some time. The war is behind him, has been for quite some time. It's over, except it isn't really. The country is gearing up to mend the wounds inflicted by it, and Sasha... Sasha has to deal with his own and fight the demons that come with it.

His gaze strays to the wheelchair now sitting next to the couch. It doesn't sting as much to think of it as his anymore. The resentment he felt before is slowly easing with every day he spends getting used to maneuvering with it, living with it. Maybe it won't be so bad, maybe he can learn to appreciate fhe freedom it brings rather than see it as a cage.

But then he thinks back to the lake, to the way he'd been rendered completely and utterly useless by the cold water. The pain in his back and the lack of feeling in his legs caught him off guard so thoroughly that he'd been dependent entirely on Leon to get him out of a situation Sasha foolishly got them into in the first place. Acting on instinct, reckless and rash... It's not something he can allow himself anymore, not when he barely has the strength to stand. What if Leon hadn't been there? How is Sasha supposed to get himself out of situations such as these on his own?

What will he do once Leon isn't here anymore?

A low buzzing sound pulls him away from his brooding and he turns to look at Leon as he pulls a phone from his pocket. His gaze flicks down to the screen of the phone before he averts his eyes, not meaning to encroach on Leon's privacy. It's another reminder that Leon has a life far away from this, far away from him. Of course he does. All of this is a temporary arrangement, after all. A vacation as Leon says.

Except it isn't.

Sasha uses the time Leon is busy with his phone to shift himself back to the wheelchair, meaning to take their empty bowls to the kitchen, get them cleaned up just so he has something to do. It's mundane and easy to think about chores like this, to think about what he'd make for dinner tomorrow, if they should head back down the mountain and get some more groceries, for tomorrow, the day after and then... He stops in the middle of collecting the bowls.

It's really all Sasha has as of now, isn't it? He does not have a life anymore. Certainly not the one he had before the war. He hasn't thought past this yet. All he has is a rented cabin in the middle of the woods, which he can barely navigate on his own without the help of someone who still is barely more than a stranger to him — or should be, all things considered. The reality of the matter, however, is quite different, as are Sasha's feelings on it.

Leon startles him from his thoughts again and surprises him by telling Sasha what the message he received was about. It's a sign of trust that Leon tells him anything, and under different circumstances Sasha may even have been able to appreciate the honesty. But, with all the weight of his thoughts still rounding his shoulders, Sasha can't help but ask:

"Is that something you do often? ... Disappearing like that?"

The question is out of his mouth and in the air between them before he can stop it. The words fall awkwardly between them, heavy with something that almost feels like an accusation. Sasha averts his eyes, scrunching up his face when he realizes how that must sound. They just went over this this morning, he really doesn't mean to pick another fight. "Forget it. I didn't mean—" He finally makes to grab the dishes, placing them in his lap before he turns the wheelchair to make his way over to the kitchen at last. "Just forget it."

[aureatescars]

Despite the earlier scare of dropping into the depths of a freezing lake sitting here alongside Leon, cozied up beneath a blanket, helps to unwind the worry and tension within Sasha, too. The beginnings of the headache he felt creeping up on him is soothed by the warmth and comfort of the cabin and when Leon's weight eventually sinks against his shoulder, barely touching, but nonetheless unmistakably there, Sasha finds himself almost ready to doze off after they're done with the soup. He is not really watching what's on the television screen, but rather just letting the calm of the moment overtake him, thoughts drifting off.

It's domestic in a sense nothing else in his life has been in quite some time. The war is behind him, has been for quite some time. It's over, except it isn't really. The country is gearing up to mend the wounds inflicted by it, and Sasha... Sasha has to deal with his own and fight the demons that come with it.

His gaze strays to the wheelchair now sitting next to the couch. It doesn't sting as much to think of it as his anymore. The resentment he felt before is slowly easing with every day he spends getting used to maneuvering with it, living with it. Maybe it won't be so bad, maybe he can learn to appreciate fhe freedom it brings rather than see it as a cage.

But then he thinks back to the lake, to the way he'd been rendered completely and utterly useless by the cold water. The pain in his back and the lack of feeling in his legs caught him off guard so thoroughly that he'd been dependent entirely on Leon to get him out of a situation Sasha foolishly got them into in the first place. Acting on instinct, reckless and rash... It's not something he can allow himself anymore, not when he barely has the strength to stand. What if Leon hadn't been there? How is Sasha supposed to get himself out of situations such as these on his own?

What will he do once Leon isn't here anymore?

A low buzzing sound pulls him away from his brooding and he turns to look at Leon as he pulls a phone from his pocket. His gaze flicks down to the screen of the phone before he averts his eyes, not meaning to encroach on Leon's privacy. It's another reminder that Leon has a life far away from this, far away from him. Of course he does. All of this is a temporary arrangement, after all. A vacation as Leon says.

Except it isn't.

Sasha uses the time Leon is busy with his phone to shift himself back to the wheelchair, meaning to take their empty bowls to the kitchen, get them cleaned up just so he has something to do. It's mundane and easy to think about chores like this, to think about what he'd make for dinner tomorrow, if they should head back down the mountain and get some more groceries, for tomorrow, the day after and then... He stops in the middle of collecting the bowls.

It's really all Sasha has as of now, isn't it? He does not have a life anymore. Certainly not the one he had before the war. He hasn't thought past this yet. All he has is a rented cabin in the middle of the woods, which he can barely navigate on his own without the help of someone who still is barely more than a stranger to him — or should be, all things considered. The reality of the matter, however, is quite different, as are Sasha's feelings on it.

Leon startles him from his thoughts again and surprises him by telling Sasha what the message he received was about. It's a sign of trust that Leon tells him anything, and under different circumstances Sasha may even have been able to appreciate the honesty. But, with all the weight of his thoughts still rounding his shoulders, Sasha can't help but ask:

"Is that something you do often? ... Disappearing like that?"

The question is out of his mouth and in the air between them before he can stop it. The words fall awkwardly between them, heavy with something that almost feels like an accusation. Sasha averts his eyes, scrunching up his face when he realizes how that must sound. They just went over this this morning, he really doesn't mean to pick another fight. "Forget it. I didn't mean—" He finally makes to grab the dishes, placing them in his lap before he turns the wheelchair to make his way over to the kitchen at last. "Just forget it."

But I know now. He thinks, and he will make sure that Leon won't regret telling him. Somehow the fact that Leon tells him anything at all feels like a victory. That he leans against him even just for a little while suggests that what Sasha is doing is helping in some way, or so he hopes.

"Sure," he says, withdrawing his touch when Leon leans away from him and suggests moving to the couch. "But only if you take your soup with you and finish it." He gives him a smile in turn, which curls teasingly around the edges. "I didn't spend 20 minutes of my precious time so you can abandon your soup half-eaten at the table."

He pushes away from the table and takes his own bowl of soup from it, positioning it carefully in his lap to move over to the living room. It's even more warm over here by the fire than it was in the kitchen, but Sasha still hands Leon the blanket that hung over the side of the couch. After they're both settled there — his wheelchair now sitting abandoned next to the couch — Sasha sinks back into the cushions, shuffling around a bit to get comfortable and then smiles a little wider when Leon moves to share the blanket and spread them across both of their legs.

Sasha fishes for the remote and starts flicking through the channels.after the television hums to live. Sasha's feeling ...alright, all things considered. At the moment he worries more about Leon than about his own well-being, especially when he chances a glance at his friend and finds the shadows around his eyes persisting throughout them looking for something to watch.

It takes a while to find something to watch that Leon may actually be able to understand, most of the channels broadcasting program in something other than English, not surprising given where they are, but eventually Sasha finds an old American romcom being broadcasted on some random channel. Russian subtitles flit across the screen, but after giving Leon a look and receiving a shrug in turn Sasha leaves the channel on and they both go back to eating.

By the time they're done and their empty bowls are stacked on the coffee table, Sasha notices that they've slowly migrated together on the old couch, both trying to get comfortable and both tired enough that they don't mind that their shoulders brush on occasion.

[aureatescars]

Sasha does his utmost to not melt under the gentle touches the man provides. He can feel him pause whenever his fingers tangle in his fur where one of his scars resides, the skin uneven, hisbfur askew. As a wolf they are mostly hidden fro sight under the thick coat of fur, but his wolf's marks are his own. If he were to shift back to his human form, the mark from the trap may still be visible on his ankle for a time, given that the bear trap had been laced with wolfsbane, but anything other than wounds inflicted by other wolves rarely left permanent scars. The damage needs to be excessive or the weaponry used to harm him enhanced with things like silver or wolfsbane as the trap had been if they were to even slow him down.

Still, he's been beaten and hurt many times over while trying to fend off the cultists and the villagers, running himself rugged while exploring all over the area. At first, in search of members of his pack, but eventually just resorting to desperately trying to find anyone still of sound mind and body until his wolf took over entirely when one by one his pack's presence seemed to blink out of existence.

Sasha can't possibly recall just how many injuries he's suffered since then, he only remembers running and running and running. Who knows how many scars and marks were added to those old ones suffered during fights over territory or rank? Sasha hasn't looked at himself in a mirror in weeks. He isn't aure if he'd even recognize the man staring back at him if he did...

He is stirred from his ruminations by the other adressing him directly. You've gone through a rough time, too, huh, Buddy? The man asks and Sasha has to fight the whine that threatens to rise from the agony nestled deep within him still. The nickname only exacerbating the sensation of longing and homesickness. But he manages to limit the manifestation of it to a deep inhale and exhale and then just angles his head slightly away from the hand petting him, the gentleness too much to bear when he's already crumbling under the weight of loss and grief.

But the wolf's ears still flick at the apology he hears next, and Sasha takes note of the quieter, almost dejected tone of voice in which the words are said. The fact that the man sees it necessary at all to apologize to what he currently believes to be an animal speaks for his character. He is angry, much like Sasha, but he's a good man, just trying to do that which is the best for those under his care. Sasha hopes that he will be able to do for the girl what Sasha could not for his own pack.

Sasha is pleased to see that the man has calmed down considerably, rational thinking taking precedence again. His wolf needs some convincing to move his head from the man's lap, reluctant to let go of the warmth and the tiniest semblance of pack he can get. Sasha shakes that thought and it manifests in the wolf stretching and shaking out his fur before nudging Leon's leg.

When his companion gets up, the wolf moves to stand beside the latch, pawing at the wood of the trapdoor to signal that he is indeed ready to move on. He's not deliberately trying to stall his new acquaintance in pursuing his objective after all, he just wanted him to not charge headfirst into danger while overcome by rage and fear.

Its still disorienting how readily Sasha goes along with his wolf's wishes to stick close to the stranger, but his inner wolf's... infatuation for this man aside Sasha considers anyone who stands against the cultists an ally. There is strength in numbers, and maybe, just maybe Sasha will be able to find other members of his pack who haven't succumbed to the darkness. And if nothing else, he'll do some damage to those that took everything from him.

Or he'll die trying.

He feels stronger after their short rest, too, more centered, less like a wild animal. The opportunity to take a breather allowed him to truly let his body focus on healing his own lingering pains and thankfully his leg has had enough time to heal to not be more than a twinge of discomfort every once in a while.

They make their way through the tunnel without so much as a peep from any of the villagers. But instead of putting them at ease, they both slow their pace, creeping through the dingy light, not trusting this supposed peace. But it still persists. The air becomes heavy with humidity the closer they get to the lake.

The wolf bristles when they step onto the wooden pier, an ominous feeling befalling Sasha as he looks out across the water. A deep growl rumbles in the wolf's throat. Teeth showing when instinct has him snarl. Something is out there.

And it's hungry.

A boat comes into view, driving out across the lake in the distance, two men are on board, lobbing something over the edge of the boat when they are far away from shore. Sasha realizes it's a human corpse and the feeling from before is now accompanied by disgust at the horrible things these people do... But it doesn't last long, because soon both make way to dread when the body that was dumped mere moments ago is swallowed whole within seconds by a gaping maw of teeth breaking through the water's surface.

God, what other monstrosities have these people created?

Sasha takes the huffing and puffing of his clearly annoyed companion in stride. He doesn't move, and even if the man would put his entire strength into it — which in his current state doesn't seem all that likely — he wouldn't be able to move him.

It's still a relief when he sits, and although Sasha is glad to find the other sitting down to rest he still has to fight the urge to roll his eyes at the empty threat. He waits until the man has opened the bottle and drank something and then allows himself to relax as well. Eventually the man unfolds the map again, seemingly calmer and ready to ar least attempt making a plan.

Sasha, reluctantly, allows himself to inch closer, compelled by the source of warmth, but more so by his wolf's near desperate want to be closer to the only friendly person he's met in weeks. Longing for something that even distantly resembles the bomd of a pack. So, he shuffles closer, carefully, but clearly not as covertly as he hopes, because the map shifts above him just as he tries to lie down next to the man, his attention back on him.

Caught, Sasha considers pulling away after all, but again, he gives in to the wolf and instead gives his friend the same pleading look from before, going as far as shifting his head into his lap when the man looks at him with a raised eyebrow. He stills, but doesn't make any movement to pull away.If his companion decides to push at him again he'd accept defeat and leave him be, but he finds that he, just as much as his wolf, is hoping he'll be allowed this, just for a little bit.

He can smell it more clearly now, the same sharp scent of the parasite that's also within the villagers, within his pack, within himself, too. A cold, uneasy feeling nags at him, telling him it's this that has him so desperate for this stranger's closeness after so short a period of time. But the wolf seems to think different, already willing to treat him as one of his own.

It's instinct then, when Sasha lets his wolf's abilities to soothe take over, focussing his slowly returning strength on taking a portion of the other's exhaustion and pain. It's similar to his own, the aches he recognizes from those the parasite his enhanced healing has been fighting from day one. His ears flick and his snout creases with the small wave of added discomfort, only to smooth out again when a gentle hand brushes through his fur.

Sasha bites down on a whine. He won't let the wolf humiliate him again, although he is just as desperate for this gentleness. The wolf and him settle on a compromise, a quick nuzzle against the man's abdomen, and closing his eyes against any looks he might receive in turn.

Just for a little bit. Just until they have regained some strength.

[aureatescars]

Sasha is no longer able to hide the smile on his face as he watches Leon inspect the bikes with near childish glee. Another tidbit of Leon's past is neatly stored away and then he follows him over to the bike he has chosen, throat going dry when the practiced ease of Leon's movements as he straddles the bike have him consider all kinds of ways to use these vehicles besides their intended purposes.

And of course, Leon catches him out on his train of thought immediately, and Sasha's eyes snap up to Leon's from where they were taking in the line of his body. There is a telltale tint of red to the tip of his ears at Leon being able to read him so easily, but Sasha doesn't let it deter him from leaning closer. He reaches out a hand to tilt Leon's chin up with on finger, his thumb resting just below his lower lip. "Quite a few things," he says in a low voice, a little breathlessy, too, but he's aware of the surveillance cameras in the garage and of the fact they're both just about at their limit physically. Another time. Sasha thinks, since he now knows that Leon might not be as opposed to continuing this in the future as he initially thought.

Still, Sasha doesn't stop himself as the urge to fit his lips against Leon's own overcomes him once more. He leans in, hand moving to cradle the back of Leon's head. Sasha kisses him slowly, with intent, but pulls back before either of them can make this into anything more just yet.

He kisses Leon's cheek in quiet apology. "Not here ' He whispers with a pointed look towards on of the cameras in the corner of the room as he pulls away again. But despite his words he has to steady himself with a deeper breath when Leon remains in his previous position after he leans back, making him look even more enticing now that his own eyes have darkened and his cheeks gained a suspicious hint of red as well.

Sasha has to physically turn himself away to not give in to temptation. He is left facing down the row of bikes again, his earlier words ring true still. He hasn't driven anything himself in a little over three years and rational thinking cautions him to not overdo anything now that he has finally had a day where his back and legs function the way they're supposed to.

And the thing is: he wants to. He wants to push himself and see just how much his body can take and finally find back to normalcy. He's been playing it safe for so long now. He runs a hand along the seat of a beautiful Vyrus Alyen 988 he is currently standing closest to and makes a decision.

However, he turns back around for now, leaving the bike where it is for now and gestures for Leon to follow him. "Come with me."

He leads Leon through a beside the row of displayed bikes. The design of the room they're now standing in is similar in design to the garage, but smaller in size with shelves lining the walls. A variety of helmets, shiner to perfection, sit on high-gloss surfaces. The bright lights reflect of the furniture, a stark contrast to the sleek leather jackets hung along the walls. The rest of the gear is folded in open shelving. Boots lined up neatly at the feet of a huge storage unit.

Sasha is already shrugging out of his suit jacket by the time they make it to the clothes. "There should be some that fit you. We keep a variety of sizes stocked here." Sasha anticipates the question as to why they would, but in the end Sasha doesn't answer, he simply shrugs.

I'm not the first Broker.

I likely won't be the last.

Sasha brushes the thought off, then tilts his head at Leon who still seems a bit overwhelmed. "Since you insist on choosing the bike, I have to provide us with some more fitting gear, yes?"

The tension that he didn't notice creep up into his shoulders worsens and then eases when Leon answers in kind, and even seeks out his touch despite pulling away initially. It's still a relief to see himself reassured that he isn't imagining things. However, he can't fault Leon for the trepidations he so clearly harbors, it's the same for Sasha after all. Maybe once the mission is done, when things are settled and the most recent crisis averted, they can find some time to sort things out, to make a plan, to make this work. And while Leon doesn't seem hopeful, he doesn't dismiss the possibility outright either.

Sasha turns his head so he can press a kiss into Leon's hair, squeezing his hand gently. "That's all I'm asking." He says truthfully, remembering the last time they parted three years ago. It wasn't so much a goodbye as it had been Leon vanishing from his life. Sasha doesn't remember much after Leon dealt with the Plaga, his memories hazy, a blurr of feverish dreams interspersed by the blank walls of a hospital and conversations he might have dreamt up.

When he eventually came to he was alone, not a trace of Leon to be seen anywhere. He only now recognizes how deeply that unsettled him at the time. He couldn't thank him for saving his life. He couldn't say goodbye either. The only trace left of the man who saved his life were the words he spoke to Sasha when he stopped him from ending it all. Sometimes he wondered if he'd dreamt those up as well.

Leon moves and startles Sasha from his thoughts. It shows on his expression for a brief secondy but then his lips pull into a smile. "I know a place you might enjoy. They serve breakfast foods of all kinds until late in the afternoon." He says as he pulls himself up to stand, still marveling at how his back shows barely any sign of strain and how the pain is entirely absent apart from a few small twinges here and there. "It is a little far to walk there, however..." The place is located on the outskirts of the inner city. An area where the war hasn't hit Holigrad as hard as it did everywhere else in the center of the city.

Sasha goes to retrieve his cane, out of habit most of all but also just in case his body decides go give out on him after all. It wouldn't be the first time.

After they've collected all of their things, Sasha guides Leon back to the elevator. His hand moves from the small of Leon's back to push a button to take them back down, but then his finger lingers over the button for the ground floor for a moment as he turns his head to look at Leon. "If I let you take your pick from the cars in the garage, would you mind playing chauffeur for me?" And with those words he pressed the button for the garage and the elevator takes them down beyond the ground floor to the garage.

The elevator opens up into an expansive showroom. More akin to a car exhibit than a traditional garage. Large enough to fit the 20 vehicles that are on display here comfortably. The dark marble flooring is polished to reflect the cars paint like a mirror, the overhead lighting is custom for each parking spot. The lineup itself consists of a mixture of rare and classic cars, as well as some of the most recent luxury vehicles. Further in the back is a lineup of a selection of motorcycles, which Sasha notes Leon takes an interest in immediately when he first lays eyes on them. Sasha follows him over there, smiling slightly but trying to hide his amusement when Leon's eyes seem to sparkle at being presented with all of this.

"I have to admit that I don't know much about cars or motorcycles, my predecessor was a collector, I just have them maintained because it seems like the right thing to do." He shrugs. "Until recently I wasn't able to drive, and although I technically could now, my secretary insists I have someone drive for me until the artificial spine is completely healed."

She is probably right in suggesting that, but it still feels like he's not fully in charge of himself that way. It's why he has taken to walking in the way he did — if he is able, that is. Some days are still worse than others — it makes him feel more in control.

He gestures around the room. "Take your pick."

[aureatescars]

The tension that he didn't notice creep up into his shoulders worsens and then eases when Leon answers in kind, and even seeks out his touch despite pulling away initially. It's still a relief to see himself reassured that he isn't imagining things. However, he can't fault Leon for the trepidations he so clearly harbors, it's the same for Sasha after all. Maybe once the mission is done, when things are settled and the most recent crisis averted, they can find some time to sort things out, to make a plan, to make this work. And while Leon doesn't seem hopeful, he doesn't dismiss the possibility outright either.

Sasha turns his head so he can press a kiss into Leon's hair, squeezing his hand gently. "That's all I'm asking." He says truthfully, remembering the last time they parted three years ago. It wasn't so much a goodbye as it had been Leon vanishing from his life. Sasha doesn't remember much after Leon dealt with the Plaga, his memories hazy, a blurr of feverish dreams interspersed by the blank walls of a hospital and conversations he might have dreamt up.

When he eventually came to he was alone, not a trace of Leon to be seen anywhere. He only now recognizes how deeply that unsettled him at the time. He couldn't thank him for saving his life. He couldn't say goodbye either. The only trace left of the man who saved his life were the words he spoke to Sasha when he stopped him from ending it all. Sometimes he wondered if he'd dreamt those up as well.

Leon moves and startles Sasha from his thoughts. It shows on his expression for a brief secondy but then his lips pull into a smile. "I know a place you might enjoy. They serve breakfast foods of all kinds until late in the afternoon." He says as he pulls himself up to stand, still marveling at how his back shows barely any sign of strain and how the pain is entirely absent apart from a few small twinges here and there. "It is a little far to walk there, however..." The place is located on the outskirts of the inner city. An area where the war hasn't hit Holigrad as hard as it did everywhere else in the center of the city.

Sasha goes to retrieve his cane, out of habit most of all but also just in case his body decides go give out on him after all. It wouldn't be the first time.

After they've collected all of their things, Sasha guides Leon back to the elevator. His hand moves from the small of Leon's back to push a button to take them back down, but then his finger lingers over the button for the ground floor for a moment as he turns his head to look at Leon. "If I let you take your pick from the cars in the garage, would you mind playing chauffeur for me?" And with those words he pressed the button for the garage and the elevator takes them down beyond the ground floor to the garage.

The elevator opens up into an expansive showroom. More akin to a car exhibit than a traditional garage. Large enough to fit the 20 vehicles that are on display here comfortably. The dark marble flooring is polished to reflect the cars paint like a mirror, the overhead lighting is custom for each parking spot. The lineup itself consists of a mixture of rare and classic cars, as well as some of the most recent luxury vehicles. Further in the back is a lineup of a selection of motorcycles, which Sasha notes Leon takes an interest in immediately when he first lays eyes on them. Sasha follows him over there, smiling slightly but trying to hide his amusement when Leon's eyes seem to sparkle at being presented with all of this.

"I have to admit that I don't know much about cars or motorcycles, my predecessor was a collector, I just have them maintained because it seems like the right thing to do." He shrugs. "Until recently I wasn't able to drive, and although I technically could now, my secretary insists I have someone drive for me until the artificial spine is completely healed."

She is probably right in suggesting that, but it still feels like he's not fully in charge of himself that way. It's why he has taken to walking in the way he did — if he is able, that is. Some days are still worse than others — it makes him feel more in control.

He gestures around the room. "Take your pick."

Being called out on his thoughts is more disorienting than it likely should be. Seeing as he is able to read Leon's swings of mood quite clearly now that they spent more time together, it shouldn't come as a surprise that Leon would be able to do the same in turn. Still, Sasha can't help the small noise of surprise and the flickering of embarrassment across his features at being called out.

"Ah..." He clears his throat, gathering his thoughts. He pushes the ominous feeling that's been haunting him on and off over the last 24 hours aside and instead focuses on the part that he — at least somewhat — understands. It doesn't make it easier to put it into words, especially thinking back on what Leon said back in the hotel room. That they'd take all that's between them at face value for now, take it as it is without worrying about what is to come, to see how it will go on when they get there.

Leon asked him if he can do that, and Sasha said he could, but with the feeling of Leon's hair between his fingers, the weight of him against him, his warmth, everything... Sasha is more and more convinced that he wants to hold on to it all. No matter what unspoken or spoken promise to just wait and see passed between them before.

He takes a deeper breath, wary that whatever he says next might have Leon pull away. That he'd pull up those walls again and put the distance he dreads so much between them once more, simply because Sasha wants too much, too soon. But Leon also asked to know what he is thinking and far is it from Sasha to start lying to him now.

What's on your mind?

Sasha is quiet for another moment, before he speaks back up. "I know we agreed to not make this more than what it is right now, but... I don't want this to end." He says truthfully, turning a strand of Leon's hair between his fingers, following the motion with his gaze before facing Leon's reaction with a sheepish smile.

[aureatescars]

But I know now. He thinks, and he will make sure that Leon won't regret telling him. Somehow the fact that Leon tells him anything at all feels like a victory. That he leans against him even just for a little while suggests that what Sasha is doing is helping in some way, or so he hopes.

"Sure," he says, withdrawing his touch when Leon leans away from him and suggests moving to the couch. "But only if you take your soup with you and finish it." He gives him a smile in turn, which curls teasingly around the edges. "I didn't spend 20 minutes of my precious time so you can abandon your soup half-eaten at the table."

He pushes away from the table and takes his own bowl of soup from it, positioning it carefully in his lap to move over to the living room. It's even more warm over here by the fire than it was in the kitchen, but Sasha still hands Leon the blanket that hung over the side of the couch. After they're both settled there — his wheelchair now sitting abandoned next to the couch — Sasha sinks back into the cushions, shuffling around a bit to get comfortable and then smiles a little wider when Leon moves to share the blanket and spread them across both of their legs.

Sasha fishes for the remote and starts flicking through the channels.after the television hums to live. Sasha's feeling ...alright, all things considered. At the moment he worries more about Leon than about his own well-being, especially when he chances a glance at his friend and finds the shadows around his eyes persisting throughout them looking for something to watch.

It takes a while to find something to watch that Leon may actually be able to understand, most of the channels broadcasting program in something other than English, not surprising given where they are, but eventually Sasha finds an old American romcom being broadcasted on some random channel. Russian subtitles flit across the screen, but after giving Leon a look and receiving a shrug in turn Sasha leaves the channel on and they both go back to eating.

By the time they're done and their empty bowls are stacked on the coffee table, Sasha notices that they've slowly migrated together on the old couch, both trying to get comfortable and both tired enough that they don't mind that their shoulders brush on occasion.

Leon is sitting next to him, the other chair pushed off to the side so Sasha's wheelchair can tuck beneath the table instead of it and it almost starts to feel normal now, accommodating for the wheelchair in his daily life. However, it's not at all what Sasha's mind is focused on. Instead, he has to remind himself to not fuss over his friend overly much. Leon has gone along with all Sasha has asked of him, and he won't pry where he isn't wanted, even though he can still sense the tension in Leon's movements and sees it in the way he seems absentminded, his gaze not entirely focused. He is eating, though, and given everything else, it's all Sasha can really ask for.

Sasha has seen comrades of his go through similar episodes during the war and he is almost certain J.D. had to snap him out of a few of those, too, even though Sasha's mind has worked hard to make him forget most of it by now. He hasn't really spoken to anyone about it, but a lot of his memories from the civil war are hazy at best when he tries to recall them when he's awake. But it's almost as if anything prior to the plaga infection is just out of reach, but even the things that followed afterwards are blurred and jumbled in his mind. His doctor and the psychiatrist told him it might be a repercussion from the trauma of the gunshot wound and the war itself. Maybe it is his brain's desperate attempt at keeping himself sane after all he has been through. It wouldn't even surprise him. Maybe that explains his recurring nightmares, too...

When Leon speaks up, it startles Sasha back to attention, realizing that he must have been staring at him he quickly returns his attention to his own bowl of soup, but he doesn't get further than a few spoonfuls of it before he pauses and looks back at Leon, listening intently to what he has decided to share with him.

The tale sounds... unbelievable at first, but the pain he can read in Leon's posture and his expression isn't a figment of imagination. It's clearly not easy for Leon to conjure all of that back up, and it doesn't take much to realize how much of a privilege it is to be told any of it either. Despite the almost clinical recounting of it all, or maybe even because if it, the pain within the words is palpable. Especially when Leon looks up at him and his gaze holds none of the hardness, none of the defiance Sasha gleaned from them when they first met. He just looks tired now, and maybe a bit lost, too.

Sasha knows that feeling all to well.

"You've seen a lot worse than Holigrad..." He says then. It's an observation rather than any sort of question but it does hold a hint of disbelief. He still isn't trying to pry any more information from Leon, but he can't fathom just how many horrors Leon has fought. Sasha cannot imagine anything beyond the scope of the nightmares he has lived through himself and yet, with the look in Leon's eyes just now, Sasha feels that he doesn't have to be able to imagine, he just has to believe him.

It is what it is at this point. And despite the flat delivery of that line, Sasha's heart wrenches with some sudden, foreign pain. His gut tightens, not with pity, but with sympathy and his need to soothe as best he can takes over.

It's instinct then, to reach out a hand and place it on Leon's shoulder, the one farthest from him, and to pull him against his side. Sasha gives his shoulder a gentle squeeze, dismissing the fact that it's a bit of an awkward thing to do with how Leon instantly tenses up under his touch. But Sasha doesn't immediately let go again, remembering this morning and the way Leon practically melted into his touch. Granted, he had been asleep at the time, but if there is a small chance that this might help, even just slightly, Sasha is willing to try and offer what little comfort he can.

He isn't good with words; never was. Reassurances always come out wrong when he tries to put them into words and right now, they'd feel like pity anyway, and if Leon is anything like him, he would not want to hear them. But he can do this, or attempt to at the very least, to let Leon know that he isn't alone in this if he doesn't want to be.

"I'm sorry about all of this." He never meant to stir up bad memories, after all. He runs a thumb along the curve of Leon's shoulder. Even seated he is a bit taller than Leon, and eventually his friend deflates into his hold just enough so it allows Sasha to angle himself so he can rest his chin atop Leon's head. "But thank you for telling me."

[aureatescars]

Sasha exhales slowly as he looks up at the old building. He takes in the weathered facade of the clock tower overlooking the area. It reminds him faintly of the Police Department back in Raccoon City and for a moment it even appears to him in that same way. It's almost as if he can feel the rain on his face again, the heat of the fire from the destroyed cars around him, the burning of smoke in his lungs. Darkness closes in on him with faceless monsters moaning in the distance.

Salvation comes in the form of Leon leaning into him, pulling him back from painful memories. He blinks. The darkness fades. The sun once again warm against his skin even though the wind of fall tugs at him, too. Sasha quickly fights the memories down with a shake of his head, focuses instead on all the differences between then and now. Some trees peek over the brick wall surrounding the schoolyard and when the two of them make their way towards the entrance they can hear the hustle and bustle of playing children. They must be just in time for recess ending, because the bell chimes and soon the sound of young voices calling out and footsteps running around becomes quieter until it fades entirely.

Leon asks whether or not he should come with him and Sasha has to fight the urge to look for one of his hands with his own immediately. He refrains from reaching out in the end, but he can't bear the thought of parting ways with Leon.

"I'm sure the principal's office has a waiting area." He says and just manages to keep the tremble out of his voice. "And it's a bit cold to wait out here, don't you think?" Another deeper breath and then Sasha takes the last few steps towards the door with Leon following closely behind.

They announce themselves to the security guard at the front door and after explaining what they're there for he directs them down the hall and they make their way further into the building. Much as the outside suggests, the interior of the school is a little dated, but the hallway looks a lot like what Sasha remembers from the school he worked at before, if more colorful. This is an elementary school after all.

Fluorescent lighting hums overhead as they make their way down the main hallway. They pass by a variety of classroom doors with brightly colored lockers lining the walls inbetween. They're decorated with stickers and labeled with names in different colors. All of them smaller and closer to the ground than what Sasha remembers from the high school back in Raccoon City. A few bulletin boards hang on the far side of the hallway with posters and paper crafts posted upon them.

They turn down another hallway after finding a sign directing them towards the principal's office. The color of the wall changes from a bright yellow to a more muted beige, suggesting that they've made it to the part of the school that's more for administrative purposes.

Sasha spies another door that's labeled teachers' lounge on one side, but doesn't spare it much more than a glance. He'd have to actually get the job first before having to worry about commiting all of this to memory.

At last, they arrive at their destination. A door looking like any other they've past so far, but labeled as the principal's office by the small sign to the side. There are some chairs placed in a row along the opposite side of the door, the waiting area Sasha expected would be here.

He gives Leon a look and tries for a smile, even though the nerves and the tight ball of anxiety in his gut make it come out wobbly at best. He takes as deep a breath as his ribs will allow and then raises a hand to knock.

"Yes? Who is it?"

A voice sounds from inside, carrying a mix of authority and warmth.

"Alexander Kozachenko," he says in answer, even though he has to clear his throat in order to sound a little firmer himself. "I'm ... uh... I'm here for the— uh... Marie said that I should come by to... talk." He winces and pointedly doesn't look at Leon, already embarrassed by the meek first impression he just made.

"Please enter."

This time Sasha does turn to look at Leon, and he must look about as nervous as he feels because Leon's expression is one of deepseated sympathy.

"...See you in a bit." Sasha tells him, fighting the slight tremble in his hand when he pushes the handle of the door down. It swings open to reveal an elderly woman sitting at a big wooden desk. The office is smaller than he would have thought, although the impression might be skewed by the wall behind her being lined with massive bookshelves filled with neatly labeled binders. The principal herself appears almost tiny in comparison to them and Sasha feels very awkward, towering over her as he does.

"Mr. Kozachenko." She says with a smile as she stands, stepping around the table briefly to offer out a hand which he shakes with what he hopes to be an appropriate amount of strength. "Susanne Palmer. Pleasure to make your acquaintance. Please, close the door and have a seat." She gestures for him to sit down opposite her as she returns to her chair.

"I'm glad we get to meet after all, I remember your application from earlier this year, I believe? I'm sorry, as this is a bit of an impromptu meeting I don't have the files on hand."

Sasha nods. "That's— That's correct." It feels like a lifetime ago that he sent out application letters. He clears his throat again, leaning forward in his seat, adjusting so he isn't tempted to keep shifting nervously the entire time. "My contract with the high school I was working at was terminated unexpectedly , so I had to start looking into other opportunities."

Mrs. Palmer nods. The window to her right casts her her face in bright light that softens her gentle expression even further. "I hope you don't mind me asking, but is there any particular reason you've waited until now to contact the school again?"

Sasha casts his eyes down, wringing his hands. It's a valid question, given that he received the offer nearly two months ago. It takes him a moment to even remember what his reasoning had been to wait, but in the end it does come down to him never having had the confidence to bring it up to Irina that he may have to take a job opportunity that would have them move across state... or make their relationship one of longer distance. "It's... complicated." He sighs deeply, face scrunching up briefly when his ribs give a slight throb of pain.

He remembers Leon as well as Claire and even Marie and Dave cautioning all of them to keep what happened in Raccoon City close to their chest and avoid talking about it outside their circle, and it's not like he wants to tell a stranger about any of it either— So, he doesn't.

"I was still to sit down with my... my fiancee to talk about it." He stumbles over the word, fingers clenching tightly into eachother, knuckles turning white as even just thinking about Irina leaves him winded. "But things were... They were complicated." He says it again, realizing that he must sound like a broken record. He shifts forward in his seat again, putting his hands on the table in front of him to look at the principal, only to immediately fold under her gaze.

"I'm aware that this must sound like an excuse, and that it must seem like I am not invested enough to take this position seriously, but I—"

"Mr. Kozachenko?"

Mrs. Palmer's voice is still gentle and quiet as she stops him mid sentence and when he looks up he finds her expression to be one of sympathy. "I can tell that you are very serious about the offer I have made you. Otherwise you'd not be here." She folds her hands on the table, casting her own gaze downwards. "Excuse my prying." She seems genuinely apologetic as she says so. "Marie has told me about your loss." She says then and Sasha is glad that he is sitting down, for the words acknowledging Irina's death, spoken by a stranger is enough to make him feel winded and helpless. "I should have known better than to push for an explanation just to satisfy my own curiosity. It was in bad taste." She clears her throat. "Let me emphasize again: we do not have to treat this as an official interview. Marie asked me whether I'd be willing to help a new acquaintance of hers find their footing again and I figured getting to know you would be the logical next step."

She takes a deeper breath, gathering herself. She adjusts the small round glasses she is wearing and looks at him again. "Let us start over?"

Sasha merely nods. He doesn't have any words right now. Mrs. Palmer adjusts her glasses again and Sasha is certain that this is the most awkward conversation he has had in a long time.

"Why don't you tell me a little bit about yourself? What are your subjects of expertise? What has drawn you to teaching?"

From then on the conversation flows easier. He tells her about the fact he is from the Eastern Slav, as he knows most people become curious about his accent the moment he opens his mouth to speak. He has to swallow thickly around the lump forming in his throat when he recounts Irina getting him into studying at a university back in the Eastern Slav and him eventually finding that he might actually be good at teaching given his interests in math, history and his knack for the English language.

Sasha also tells her about the subjects he has been teaching at the high school. Math and history, and mentions that he also has a third subject he can with English and a focus in English literature. Although he is aware that the latter is not necessarily the focus of elementary level classes.

In turn he learns that Mrs. Palmer's late husband was from Poland and as a result they end up derailing their professional conversation to talk about a few recipes she learned from him and Sasha sharing a few of his mother's in turn and feeling a little lighter and less anxious by the end of it.

But eventually the conversation circles back around to teaching and Mrs. Palmer asks a question that Sasha cannot in good faith omit the answer to.

"What school was it again you taught at here in the States?"

Sasha turns a little more pale. It still takes him a moment to answer, trying hard not to think about what may have become of his students, their parents, his colleagues. "...Raccoon City High School."

He watches Mrs. Palmer's composure slip for the first time then. Her eyes turn wide, becoming almost comically large with the distortion of her glasses added to them. "Is... Is something wrong?" He asks cautiously and only becomes more confused when the elderly woman reaches across the table to put a hand on his wrist, expression turning back to sympathetic.

"I'm very sorry. I shouldn't have asked. If only I had your file on hand I would have known to keep quiet—" Sasha interrupts. "I'm sorry, but I don't think I follow?"

In turn, she blinks at him. "Raccoon City... that's the city the government issued a missile strike against, is it not?"

Sasha's heart drops, face turning white as a sheet. "...What?" He asks breathlessly.

"A few days ago," she says, voice more quiet, barely above a whisper. "On the news it was said that they did it to prevent some type of terminal disease from spreading." She furrows her brows at him. "You didn't know?"

"I..."

His gaze wavers, searching her face for something that might suggest this is all a cruel joke. But he finds nothing other than honesty. He watches as she presses her lips together in a tight line. Shortly after she seems to come to a decision. "Mr. Kozachenko," she says. "I think we should continue this conversation some other time." She gets up from her chair and comes to stand beside him, a hand alighting gently on his shoulder.

"How about you go home and rest?" Mrs. Palmer says and Sasha barely hears her over the rush of blood and his pounding heartbeat in his ears. He shakes his head to get rid of the worst of the shock, but his eyes are still rounded with it when he looks at her.

"I'm sorry," she says. "I truly am." And Sasha believes her. "But still, let me assure you that I very much enjoyed meeting you and I'd love to talk with you some more. Maybe next time we can talk about what you in turn expect from this position." She reaches across her desk and hands him a card with a name and a number on it. "Please, give me a call when you've settled here in Red Oak. Marie told me you're staying on one of her properties.

Sasha nods, blinking down at the card in his hand, not really reading what is on there. He tries to gather himself with another deep breath and when he finally doesn't feel like he will fall over the moment he stands, he rises to his feet.

He looks down at the old lady, sees how tense she has become in the past few minutes as well. Regret knits his brows together over the fact that he made their first meeting so incredibly awkward. "I'm the one that has to apologize for not putting my best foot forward today. I really appreciate you inviting me here. Truly, it means... It means the world."

She smiles and reaches out her hand for him to shake again, and when he does, she covers their joined hands with her other. "We are a tight-knit community here in Red Oak and I'm sure you'll fit right in, given time. Don't be a stranger if you ever need anything, dear."

He manages to give her a smile, but it's barely more than a tired curl of lips. "Thank you." He withdraws his hand from her and bids his goodbye, reaching for the door. He feels unsteady on his feet still, but he makes it outside and closes the door behind him again. His head once again feels to full of thoughts, left with another devastating discovery as he is. He turns and looks up, finds Leon's eyes and it takes everything he has, every little bit of frazzled composure left within him to not reach for him and break down in his arms.

He must look the part, too, because Leon's expression morphs from curiosity to concern immediately. Sasha shakes his head. "Not here." He says quietly, having no strength left to mask the tremor in his voice. "I... I need some air."

The remark about the foster system is met with a small empathetic smile. Sasha hasn’t experienced anything like it, so he can only imagine what Leon’s upringing was like. Sasha had some students in his classes he knew were in a foster family, some of them similar to what Leon alludes to, similar to Sasha’s own issues growing up.

He fights the thought that wedges itself like a knife into his heart, most, if not all, of his students are likely dead now, or worse. He doesn’t want to risk slipping back into the darkened mindset Leon tries so valiantly to pull him away from.

Instead, he focuses on what Leon is telling him. I like you now. Quite a lot, as it stands. And that makes his smile widen and his gaze soften. He is overcome by the urge to take his hand, warmth settling in his core and coloring the tips of his ears. He is still very aware of where they are however, so he just briefly ducks his head and presses his leg against Leon’s instead.

Conversation moves on before he can say anything in return and im the end, Sasha nods at Leon’s suggestion, a twinge of guilt going through him at not thinking about calling his mother nor his best friend in the aftermath. It’s okay, he reminds himself. He still has time.

“He is an idiot.” He says, but the words are saturated with a fondness that speaks of a deep friendship upheld for many years. He goes on to tell Leon about some of the trouble they got into as teens and about J.D.’s obsession with America, Hollywood movies and the food in particular. “You could bond over your mutual love for breakfast foods.”

Eventually, he folds and nods.“Yeah, I’m… going to call him after I speak to my mother.” Homesickness hits him like a wave, but he knows it’s the comfort of home he longs for the most, the easier days, the peaceful ones. But he looks at Leon now, takes in his timid smile and empathetic words and realizes he wouldn’t trade this for anything else, homesick or not, he’d rather be here with him than back home.

“I would like that.” He says when Leon brings up his time at the police academy. He wants to learn more about that part of Leon’s life, of his motivation to choose this profession above anything else. But before he can say anything else, Leon brings up the quickly advancing time and Sasha can’t but agree that they probably should get moving. He pulls out some money as well, covering the difference and a tip he can reasonably afford before they eventually say their goodbyes and leave the diner.

They turn to make their way towards the school, both tugging their hands into their pockets against the chill of the air around them. Sasha’s stomach goes back to tying itself into knots about the upcoming talk with the principal, unsure of what to expect, but then he glances at Leon and finds him looking back with that slight upcurl to his lips still, and Sasha smiles back, feeling a little lighter already. After another moment of companionable silence, Sasha gently knocks their shoulders together. “For the record. I like you, too. Quite a lot.”