#this fic is inspired by the chapter in which vitali does basically this at the afterlife as well but like. it's happening again now

[ruvviks]

– Nosebleed.

Characters >> Rogue Amendiares, Vincent Mayer (oc), Vitali Dobrynin (oc) Total >> 4.6k words Warnings >> Alcohol mention, blood, violence Context >> This fic takes place a few months after the conclusion of King of Fools!

‘EAT SHIT!’

The screams and cheers in the Afterlife were disorienting, a whirlpool of colors and bright neon lights blurring Vitali’s vision as the room spun around him in his fall and he rolled on his back over one of the standing tables and collapsed on the floor. He coughed, blood splattering on the already slippery tiles under him– chest painfully tightening as he pushed himself back up with no hesitation, readying himself just in time for a second merc to ram into him and, rather than send him flying now, roughly shove him into a pillar.

He hadn’t come there with the intention to fight.

Quite the opposite, in fact; had simply wanted to sit down for a civilized meeting with his partner and the club’s owner and have a drink or two– or just a glass of water, really, Vitali wasn’t sure if Vincent was letting him reach for the liquors any time soon– and discuss business, see if the Council was ready to meet again after months of uncertainty with the Broker on the loose.

A fist directly to the jaw made Vitali regain his senses and he grunted as he grabbed the wrists of the mercenary, dragging their arms to the side to give himself the space to ram his forehead directly onto their nose. He kicked against their kneecap and slammed his elbow across their cheekbone, then shoved his foot directly in their stomach to push them into the arms of one of their allies.

‘Just a relaxing night out,’ he mockingly stated out loud, hooking his finger into the collar of his shirt to rip the top button open and give himself a bit more air while spitting some more blood on the floor. ‘Circumstances have settled down enough. What could possibly go wrong?’

‘Spare me the theatrics!’ Vincent yelled, grabbing a merc by their hair and dragging them backwards down to his own level to shove his shoulder against the side of their face and ram them into the same pillar that now had some of Vitali’s blood on it. ‘Forgive me for forgetting you’re the Afterlife’s second most hated guy after Johnny fuckin’ Silverhand!’

Logically, this should have come as no surprise to either of them. Not once in his life had a visit to the nightclub in Watson gone well for Vitali– either receiving an only partially deserved beating, or a scolding from the Queen of Fixers herself no less– and the consequences of the very wrong assumption he could simply waltz in there after the shit that had gone down during his last two visits were starting to make themselves rather painfully known.

Next time we’re meeting at my club.

The mercenaries had Vincent and Vitali surrounded now, six against two, so far with the unspoken rule of “no guns allowed in a fistfight” still in place though Vitali could not say for certain how long it’d continue to last. He took a few sauntering steps forward, steadying himself positioned between the most dangerous looking assailants and Vincent– he really did not need to collect the hits reserved for Vitali alone, especially not with several of their friends watching.

His gaze was drawn to the crowd that had gathered near the bar. Cato– stood between Eddie and Huxley– grinned, and waved excitedly at him. 

‘Surely we can talk this out like civilized people,’ Vitali said, slowly raising his hands when the mercs collectively started closing in. Not as much of an attempt at a parley, but moreso to give them the chance to walk away while they still could; Vitali valued his free time and his rest, but he would be lying if he said he hadn’t been itching to get back into the field now that business had picked up as usual, and what better than a good ol’ scuffle during his night out to get him back in the rhythm?

‘We lost everything because of you!’ one of the mercs spat, parroting a sentence the fixer had heard just a few too many times in the past months; yet another gaggle of the Broker’s left behind mercenaries still out for revenge over something that had been mostly out of Vitali’s control, and if anything it’d been blown out of proportion to the point he wasn’t even entirely sure anymore what they were being so difficult about in the first place.

‘Have you tried lost-and-found?’ Vincent asked, noticing Vitali’s now tightly clenched jaw and stepping closer to ready himself for a possible incoming attack. ‘Box is just outside the entrance, right next to get-off-our-dicks-and-move-on-with-your–fuckin’–!’

Two of the mercenaries instantly charged forward, lunging at Vincent– but Vitali cut them both off before they could even get close, body-slamming one into the other to knock them off their feet. He dodged an incoming fist from a third assailant– but was too slow to step aside for the fourth and landed on his back on the floor before he could realize what was going on, vision blurred by involuntary tears as the air was violently slammed out of his lungs.

Hands wrapped tightly around his throat and for a split second he panicked, the situation reawakening memories of Ravager– the ex-Maelstromer on the Broker’s payroll who had tried to kill him in very similar fashion– but he shook the fear before it could take hold and reached for the knife hidden in the side pocket of his pants, flicking it out and taking a swipe at the mercenary’s wrists.

Not a gun, right?

The pressure was lifted from his neck and he gasped for air, kicking his assailant off his chest and rolling over to create more distance between the two of them– only to immediately receive a kick in the kidney by someone else and he couldn’t stop a pained cry from leaving his lips, cursing in Russian as he flailed the knife around in an attempt to hit, well, anything at that point.

Okay, he was a little off his game. Who could blame him? The last year had not been kind to Vitali and while it was nice to no longer be actively hunted down for sport by a fixer and his mercenaries blaming him for a bunch of lies and things he hadn’t had any control over, the nightmares and dissociative episodes that had followed still held him tightly in their grasp and they had made it difficult for him to focus on anything else.

The tallest of the mercenaries– what Vitali could only assume was their leader– grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and effortlessly lifted him up while avoiding his poorly aimed attacks, Vitali’s feet hovering a few inches above the floor as his wrist was pulled to the side and the knife was forcibly removed from his hand.

‘Nothin’ personal, Dobrynin,’ the man said, grinning as he held Vitali’s own knife up to eye level, threatening to sink it directly into one of his sockets while Vitali grabbed the hand holding his shirt and kicked his legs in an attempt to get down. ‘Simply just settin’ the score. Fair and square.’

All the chaos surrounding them seemed to blur and fade out, Vitali’s mind focusing only on the merc holding him up, and the knife lingering mere inches away from his face, the blade steadily centered at the height of his left eye.

He scoffed in return, baring his teeth as he briefly struggled in the merc’s grip– right before turning his head and biting the man’s hand, as hard as he could, teeth sinking deep into flesh until they hit bone and he was dropped back on the floor, the mercenary crying out in pain and yanking himself loose as if he’d touched fire.

‘First fucking mistake–’ Vitali breathed, straightening his back and wiping the blood off his lips with the back of his hand.

‘– Assume that I play fair.’

Someone fell into Vitali’s side and it instantly drew him back to reality– he grabbed them by the shoulders and used the momentum of their fall to launch them in the direction of the merc leader, to knock him off balance and make him drop the knife. He looked around, eyes frantically searching for Vincent– and found him all the way in the back of the club pinned in a corner, kicking and screaming as he fended off the two last remaining mercenaries at once.

Vitali walked over, noticing his cane on the floor– he had lost it directly at the start of the confrontation, as it had been the first thing that had been kicked out from under his weight– and he hit the bottom end of it with the heel of his shoe to kick it up into his hand; tossed it up in the air to catch it by the bottom end of the shaft and swung it directly into the head of one of the mercs from the side, the impact hard enough to send them skidding across the floor.

‘I got it, I got it–!’ Vincent protested, but Vitali had already grabbed a handful of the other merc’s hair to yank them back– but before he could do anything Vincent grabbed a stool from the side of the bar with both hands and rammed it directly into the merc’s face, causing them to go limp in Vitali’s grip and fall to the floor.

‘I said I got it,’ Vincent repeated himself, a slight hint of annoyance in his voice as his gaze failed to meet Vitali’s– yet he took a step closer anyway, bumping his forehead against Vitali’s still held up hand and the latter gently ran his fingers down Vincent’s temple and cheek, a futile attempt to wipe some blood off his face.

‘Oh, of course. Thought I heard something.’

Vitali turned around and immediately noticed the sudden wide opening in the crowd on the opposite side of the bar, Rogue Amendiares herself stood with arms crossed in front of her chest right in the middle. The merc leader seemed to pay her no mind and charged forward– though before he could get even close Rogue kicked a broken off pole from a stool in his direction right under his boot and he comically slipped on it and fell backwards, the pole slowly rolling further until it came to a stop at Vitali’s feet.

‘Party’s over!’ Rogue called out and loudly clapped her hands together, the urgent undertone in her voice causing the rest of the Afterlife’s clientele to scatter instantly. ‘Everyone get back to your business, if I see any more drawn weapons I’m shuttin’ the place down for the night.’

Vitali sharply exhaled, allowing his heartbeat to settle as he set his cane down on the floor and leaned heavily on it to relieve his leg. The pain wasn’t as bad as it used to be, and he had made decent progress with taking better care of himself and taking his rest– though he had no doubt he’d feel this in the morning, and already considered leaving the office closed until noon to give himself some time to sleep it off.

‘I don’t give a damn how bad of a bad leg day you’re having, Dobrynin,’ Rogue sharply said, lowering her voice and pointing a finger in Vitali’s direction as she briskly walked closer to the two of them. ‘Next time you make a mess of my club I’m handing you a mop to clean your fucking blood off the floor and you’re not leaving until I can see my own reflection in it. We understood?’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ Vitali replied, barely able to keep a straight face when Vincent mumbled something about attaching a mop head to the end of his cane– and he could tell Rogue heard it too.

As much as he hated to admit it, the fight had done Vitali good. He felt alert, now; more awake than when he had entered the club a little under half an hour earlier, and he felt surprisingly refreshed despite the several hits he had taken directly to the jaw and cheekbone.

Of course it could easily be a byproduct of the adrenaline still coursing through his veins; but a little excitement from time to time– or his cravings for it for that matter– really wasn’t gonna be the end of the world.

Rogue gestured at some of her mercs to clean up the mess at their feet, turning on her heels and returning to her booth in the corner of the club. Vitali followed suit, Vincent at his side– both of them carefully watching their footing as they stepped over the unconscious mercenaries and several puddles of blood from various sources, including Vitali’s nose and mouth, which both still had yet to stop.

‘Now to what do I owe this pleasure?’ Rogue sarcastically asked over her shoulder, glancing to her side and giving Cato, Eddie, and Huxley a wave as she passed them by. ‘Usually never a good sign when either of you shows up on my doorstep.’

‘Wanted to come and say hi, if you can believe it,’ Vitali answered, equally as sarcastic in tone, and he smiled softly at Eddie when they handed him a tissue to clean himself up.

‘We’ve been over this, Vito. Could’ve called.’

‘Rather talk to you in person about this, if you don’t mind.’

Rogue’s movements briefly faltered in the midst of sitting down, glancing back in Vitali’s direction as she realized what he was talking about– and a shadow washed over her face, understandably so, while she slowly let herself sink down onto the couch.

Of course Vitali could have called; nothing he was about to say could not have been said on holo and it would have saved him and his mercenaries the trouble of traveling there– and a whole lot of bruises and sore muscles, too.

He slowly took a seat opposite of Rogue, the gravity of the situation a little undermined by the tissue held up against his nose filling up with blood at an almost comical speed. But Rogue understood the urgency either way– flicked her hand to send off the security stationed at the booth’s entrance, and Huxley and Eddie immediately took their place while Cato wandered off to keep an eye out in the rest of the club.

‘Okay,’ Rogue said, taking a deep breath and leaning back in her seat while draping her arms over the back of the couch. ‘Indulge me. How’s the family?’

A rather pointed question, and a little touchy of a subject at that. Vitali bit the inside of his cheek and shoved the memories of when he had last seen most his family members aside– he knew Rogue was not asking about them in the slightest and she did not need to know he hadn’t heard anything from his siblings or his mother since the conclusion with the Broker back in August.

‘Situation is back under control,’ he replied, carefully allowing himself to relax a little now that his heartbeat had returned to normal. ‘I assume you’ve been informed about the intel provided to the Council’s checkpoints? And the returned resources to the warehouses on the docks?’

‘In passing.’ Rogue paused, giving Vitali a moment to grab a new tissue. ‘Your doing?’

‘My father’s.’

‘Fuck off.’

‘Why would I lie?’

The atmosphere in the booth had taken a rapid and sharp turn, Vincent shifting uncomfortably on his seat as Vitali held Rogue’s gaze and moved along with her to stay in her view when she scoffed and tried to look away. She licked her lips and squinted, pulling her arms from the back of the couch and leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees.

‘After all the damage he’s done,’ she slowly said, ‘why this? Your old man, the Broker– full 180 degree turn, do-gooder of the fucking year. Why?’ 

‘Does it matter why?’

Vitali exhaled sharply, pausing to let his heart settle down again– not entirely sure why it had decided to speed up in the first place. He finally averted his gaze, allowing it to wander off back into the rest of the club; business had gone back to normal and the unconscious mercs had been disposed of outside, leaving just puddles of blood behind for an unfortunate cleaning crew.

Rogue raised valid points, and he was well aware. Matvey had shown a rather curious amount of determination to set things right and if Vitali didn’t know any better he would have assumed it was simply part of his father’s plan to manipulate people into trusting him.

But he had lost everything, too.

Vitali watched in silence as Rogue reached for the box of tissues, taking one out while moving forward and leaning with one knee on the low table stood between them to grab Vitali’s face and wipe some blood he had missed off his cheek and jaw.

His parents had gotten a divorce. Naturally so– Nadya’s affair with Ravager had been nasty enough as a deed on its own, but especially in the bigger picture of things it’d been a dirty move considering Matvey’s loyalty to her and he had not wanted to stick around even with the ex-Maelstromer six feet under.

Matvey had lost his job, his wife, custody of two of his children, and all his mercenaries in his professional life as a fixer. If all he was doing was still part of some bigger plan, if he was still trying to manipulate everyone in some desperate attempt to get back what he lost, Vitali would declare him mad– but he knew his father better than that, and he knew that he knew when to accept defeat.

‘I will be honest, I have yet to figure him out,’ Vitali softly admitted, wincing a little when Rogue pushed his face to the side a little too roughly. ‘But he went after all of this by himself, with no one telling him he had to do so. It has to mean something.’

Vitali knew it could easily be wishful thinking. It could easily be him wanting it to mean something, and his judgment could once again easily be clouded by the fact it’s about his own blood– but after everything that had happened, it only felt fair to give Matvey the benefit of the doubt now that it looked like he was actually trying.

Rogue sighed and shook her head, giving Vitali a pat on his cheek as she tossed the tissue on the table and moved back onto the couch. For a second, it looked like she wanted to say something– but visibly changed her mind and looked at Vincent instead, a questioning look decorating her face.

‘I dunno what to think,’ Vincent said indifferently without missing a beat, as if he had already been waiting for his cue. ‘It’s definitely a situation. All I can say is that Vitali isn’t lyin’, and that I’ve seen plenty of people waste a second chance the moment they received it. This doesn’t seem like a waste to me.’

The knot that had taken shape in Vitali’s stomach over the past few minutes of the conversation instantly disappeared, and he turned his head to give Vincent a soft smile; the merc by his side had been avoiding all eye contact with anyone before but crossed gazes with Vitali for a split second now, and despite the hesitance in his voice when he had spoken and despite his feelings on the matter– which Vitali was more than well aware of– he still returned the smile, moving a little closer on the couch to lean against Vitali’s arm.

‘So I can take your word for it when you tell me it’s all under control?’ Rogue asked, picking up her drink from the table and slowly taking a sip.

‘You have my word, Rogue. Always.’ Vitali paused, giving himself a moment to pick the right words to say. ‘You know I will act swiftly if things change.’

A scoff, and a laugh. ‘Will you?’

Alright, he had that one coming.

‘I have the full picture now,’ Vitali calmly continued, knowing very well he had not been as proactive back when the Broker had still been an ongoing issue. ‘He strays off the path again, it’s over. I have given him a chance to prove himself, and no more. I promise.’

‘Good. Glad we got an understanding now.’ Rogue licked her lips, ticking her fingernail against the side of her glass. ‘Shame if I have to dispose of two Dobrynins at once.’

Perhaps a little harsh, but a fair reaction, still. Vitali did not bat an eye and instead put a reassuring arm around Vincent’s shoulder, who had perked up a little upon Rogue’s comment– but Vitali knew she was not throwing a threat his way, but merely a warning.

And he understood– the situation had dragged on for long enough and it partially was his fault alone. His mercenaries and friends were a lot more forgiving on that front, but he knew very well that Rogue was getting tired of his bullshit and in order for their collaboration to survive, she needed his ass back in gear.

‘So what’s next?’ Rogue asked, as Vitali clicked his tongue to signal to Eddie and Huxley they were dismissed, the both of them wandering over to the bar to get themselves something to drink before they’d have to leave.

‘I’d like to meet the Council,’ he answered, pulling his arm back from around Vincent’s shoulders and holding his cane between his knees in both hands, slightly rolling it back and forth– a habit he found himself doing a lot more often those days, especially when he was starting to feel a little on edge.

‘I doubt they will hear me out considering the– V, what did you call it again? The “clownfest” this year has been, so I won’t even try– but we have to look at the future. We still have to work together.’

Rogue nodded and smiled lightly at the comment, glancing into the rest of the club and waving someone of her own entourage over to give her a refill on her drink.

‘Agreed,’ she said, slightly wiggling her glass between her fingers with a questioning look in Vitali’s direction– to which he simply shook his head. ‘V?’

‘Gotta move on,’ Vincent simply answered, also politely declining Rogue’s offer on a drink with a shake of his head. ‘We’ve picked things back up, there’s work to do. Loads of it. Need to know if the Council is on the same page with that.’

‘And are you two? On the same page?’

Another pointed but fair question. 

They hadn’t been, for a while– in the heat of all things they had ended up with different perspectives which had led to a lot more tension Vitali had ever thought he would have with his partner, and in the midst of it all he had for a moment truly believed they were done for.

‘We are,’ Vincent said, not a single hint of hesitation in his voice as he spoke. ‘I’d’ve handled things differently, but everyone would’ve handled things in the way they thought was right. There’s no bad blood. I get why he did what he did. I’m just glad we both lived to tell the tale.’

He turned to look at Vitali again, that same reassuring smile lingering on his face– and it took all of Vitali’s self-restraint to not lean in to kiss him right then and there, the relief that washed over him in that moment strong enough to keep him going for the next few months.

He still worried sometimes. He still felt bad about what had happened.

But Vincent was right– they had to move on, in every sense of the word, and Vitali’s guilt could not hold him back from that.

‘Very well.’

Rogue set her refilled glass back on the table and briefly rubbed her hands over her thighs, signaling to Vitali their conversation was coming to an end. All three of them stood up simultaneously– and he could already feel the consequences of the scuffle from earlier in his legs and hip, the pain searing through his muscles.

‘I’ll call in a meeting as soon as I can,’ Rogue said, escorting Vincent and Vitali back to the bar where the rest of Vitali’s mercs had gathered to wait. ‘Expect a couple days turnaround, I’ll have Nix send you the detes. Who’s hosting?’

‘We can do Prodigy.’ Vitali paused, stepping aside to let some mercs pass by without getting shouldered out of the way. ‘Doubt they will want to visit the Crest, and I am not coming here any time soon anymore. No offense.’

‘None taken. I’ve been tellin’ you to stay away.’

‘So you have.’

Vitali took his car keys out of his pocket and tossed them at Huxley, giving Vincent a soft nudge forward to signal they could go and get ready outside. He watched the four of them wade through the crowd to make their way to the exit on the right, and the second they were out of sight he leaned on his cane a little heavier than before.

‘Take it easy, alright?’ Rogue said, stepping a little closer when she noticed the change in his demeanor. ‘Stupid gets you killed, Vito. I’ve seen it before, don’t wanna see it again. And right now? You’re givin’ me the massive impression you’re being stupid.’

Obviously she was right. While he had been taking his rest, Vitali had gone back to work entirely too soon and he was already starting to feel the consequences of it now– but what else was he to do? He loved his job; he could not sit still even if his life depended on it, and one more day of pure boredom at home would have led him to places he would’ve normally not even gone to with a gun. 

Vitali’s gaze trailed the club, carefully watching the clientele around him– and of course he caught a rather large chunk of them staring, quickly avoiding their gaze the second his eyes crossed theirs, though he no longer knew if it was because of his reputation, because of Rogue, because of the fight from earlier, or because his brain was simply making it all up.

‘I’m trying,’ was all he could manage to say. ‘To take it easy– I’m trying.’

‘I can tell.’ No hint of sarcasm, but Rogue simultaneously reached out to fix the collar of Vitali’s shirt, the bloodstain on it still a little damp against his skin. ‘Try harder.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

He knew there was nothing else he could say.

Rogue carefully watched his expression, her hand lingering on his collar for a little longer than necessary as she tried to read him– then slowly pulled away with a little nod of approval, and she began to turn on her heels to return to her business for the night.

‘And– Rogue? Thank you. For everything.’

Vitali meant it.

She had been the only one to know that his father was the Broker, and she had trusted him through it all– had not once turned against him like the rest of the Council had, and she had shown him patience and kindness he knew he had been undeserving of while he had tried to sort things out for himself.

Rogue glanced back at him and scoffed, shaking her head– though he could see the softness on her face even from a distance, and he could not stop a smile from spreading across his face.

‘Get out of here, Vitali,’ Rogue said, waving her hand in the direction of the Afterlife’s exit, and she began making her way back to her booth.

‘And no funny business on your way out.’

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