A.n.: It’s the last stretch, guys. Number 32, the last, the last, the last. UNTIL REWRITES (which may or may not but probably not be posted.)

A great big happy birthday to Nara Occult who will be getting a birthday present from me story of Sevastyan backstory (by request) from me.

Got a birthday coming up? I do requests for at least 5 page long one-shots for birthdays if I like ya and I’ve got the free time, friends. Give me a shout sometime, I’ll treat ya.

Also, I’d like to say this because it’s hysterical: I found the perfect spot to write in my new house now that the story is over. I’m laying in an empty bathtub with the door locked and screaming “DIARRHEA!” whenever someone asks me to leave. It has a 3-pronged outlet even for my laptop. How sweet is that? Hahahaha, bitch yes. Silence. No babies. No children. No nagging mothers. No nagging aunts. No seven other people that live in my house! Just… quiet… (aaahhh). So if any of you need a get away because you’re in the zone!? Try it. Diarrhea. Nobody questions the anal squirts, friend. Nobody.

Hard Candy
Chapter Thirty-Two: 10 Second Rules Are Faulty
Modest 'Desya' Demyan Popov's P.O.V.:

"Come here," Sevastyan calls, and I walk down the hall, assuming he's talking to me since I'm the only one in the hall right now. When I enter Sevastyan Sokoll's office, because the door is open, I find him sitting across from Fikri Faysal Kader and Mikania, the blue-haired girl with the strange piercings who ran my initiation into the family.

"Did you-" Sevastyan silences me by lifting his hand, and Mikania walks over to me holding up a package.

"Boss says you're messenger boy. This goes to the second floor apartment on Emmett's Heart Library. It is to be in Lizavela's hands exactly at 12:15. I will give you my watch. Fuck, I'll set the alarm, but if this package is late by a minute I will beat you."

I nod, taking the package, and she tosses her watch at me. A moment later, Sevastyan holds out a pair of keys with a number on the keychain denoting the car I'll be taking. "Leave it at - anywhere but the library. Call a cab to get home."

"What's in the package?" I ask and Sevastyan smiles.

"The final puzzle piece we need for Katsu Takahashi to be captured, our revenge. You have an hour - go as you are."

I nod at him, putting on the watch that Mikania hands me.

11:17 a.m.

-

"Take off your tie and your gun goes in the bin," Lizavela snaps at me at me through the door. I do as she says and enter. She holds up her hands from a spot on the floor, and I have to step over a row of laptops to reach her. She looks tired, and she practically tears into the package wildly, pulling out a disc with a sigh of relief before momentarily looking at me. "You're blocking my view. I have restaurant monitor duty. I need that view."

She leans over a computer, popping in the disc, and then leans to another, typing in a number which makes her headset go off. "Hey Boss, Bitch showed up an' I got the disc." She pauses then laughs. "Yeah, he's still here." She looks at me with a curious look on her face. "Boss says what's the time?"

I look at my watch and answer, "12:13."

She repeats the info. "Yeah, he's been standing here a minute or two. From your house, I'd expect a late arrival." A pause. "Yes, I've got it on my screen. There's been no movement so far. Info? He's pretty low-profile but he's been trailing the boss Funnyname for awhile. You want us to shoot him and grab the swordsman? Yeah? I got news that he's missing a finger like that boy, Sasha, so he's probably messy. We can get him under control, I think. It's safe to assume they'll react similarly when faced with direct life threats. Well, I mean, he'll probably lash out violently, Boss. Today will be messy. I hate messy."

Lizavela lifts her head, stopping suddenly to look at me. She looks a little sick. "Listen, new boy, get lost. I haven't slept in two days and you're annoying me by listening in. I hate screen-watchers from over your shoulder, too, you know. So, you'd better split."

"Yes, ma'am," I reply, leaving as simple as that. She sends people to death. I definitely don't need to be told twice to leave her alone.

-

Back home, Nikolai is in the driveway supervising suitcases being placed into the back of a fairly large car. "Should you be out of bed?" I ask, watching as he lazily leans onto a cane on the side of his wounded leg as a blue suitcase gets thrown into the trunk harder than it probably should be. He looks at me, uncaring, with half-opened eyes that make me frown.

"Should you be acting like a babysitter?" he answers, bringing up one of his hands to idly scratch his cheek. "I'm supposed to make sure that none of the maids throw around Blanche's bags."

"Blanche is leaving? Where to?"

Nikolai gives a disinterested shrug. "I assume France. She does lives there after all."

"I thought she was going to stay here," I say.

"Why would she?"

"Well, your marriage-"

"I called off the wedding," Blanche cuts in, the clearest sentence I've ever heard her say. Nikolai turns to look at her over his shoulder. "I would l-love to m-m-marry him, but h-he is not ready yet."

"Oh." I don't have anything else to say.

"Maybe one day," she says in an unconfident whisper before kissing his cheek and receiving one in return. "Visit me?"

"I don't like France," he answers coldly, and she nods as if they've reached a distant sort of understanding right before my eyes even though I'm missing a piece of their puzzle.

"Goodbye, Nikolai," Blanche breaks the silence. "I love you." Nikolai just nods before he closes the car door on her, shutting her out of his life. I should feel happy for myself, but instead I feel sorry for her. At least she knows how to let him go. I never did grasp that concept, and I probably never will.

Nikolai turns to me before he limps a step towards the door. His eyes don't pierce me anymore. I've grown stronger now and weaker. I'm not scared, and that's half the battle. "Are you happy?" Nikolai asks, and I realize I'm usually the one to ask that question. He's not looking at me, though. I wonder if his eyes were trained on me, whether or not they would reflect the looks of worry I used to give as well.

I shrug at his back and begin walking inside, around and beyond him. "It doesn't matter to you anyways."

He reaches out and grabs my wrist before pulling me back into his arms, resting his head on my shoulder. "Where did my pauper boy go, huh?" I can't tell if he's joking or sad, but I'm not in the mood for either.

"Crushed under one too many insults," I snap at him. He looks me in the eye, but he clearly looks disappointed.

"I'm not getting married. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Are you still dating someone?" I ask, and he answers yes. "Someone that isn't me?" He doesn't answer that question, just stuffs the hand he had wrapped around me into his pocket in order to pull away. I complete the distance by stepping away from him completely. "I guess I shouldn't have expected things to change with Blanche gone. I'm still as unimportant as any other fuck."

Nikolai lets off a scowl. "Can't you be happy with my confession? Is there something you want from me? I can't give you much more, Desya! I need to succeed, all right? I have women, but I do need to have a disguise, you know. So I won't be married, but I'm young and if people talk bad about me more than you've already caused I'll get shot -or, or, worse!"

"What's worse than death?" I snap back at him, but I can feel my mean barrier cracking and I take a step back towards him.

"The fear, Desya. Fear is worse than death," he whispers. "I'm scared a lot, you know. Of everything. I have a lot more pressure on me than you can imagine from the more than two hundred men my father's name, my name, stand for. I let him down; I let all of them down. The guilt would make me implode. I'd go crazy, and why? You, a boy I intended on being with once but after I got hurt and in some twisted, mistake of a way... attached to. I would lose everything because of you, Desya, but not for you. I am just as stuck as you are in Fate's chessboard, and two pawns do not move in stand-off but rather stay the same until an outside force changes them. We have no control over our fates right now except to not die. I'm sorry, Desya, I really am, but I've been stuck a hell of a lot longer than your measly two fucking years with us and I have more to lose than you. I die, you die. Got it?"

"Got it," I say, giving a sigh. "As much as it hurts to hear we'll go nowhere, I understand."

"I'm sorry," Nikolai says, holding out his arm to me. I walk over to him, and we hug.

"Me too," I answer, "but I can't blame you."

"Not anymore than I can blame you," Nikolai replies with a small laugh, and I manage to laugh with him. Just being able to laugh together feels much better, even though nothing has really changed between us. I wonder what outside force will change us from our head-to-head distance.

"Let's go out to eat," Nikolai says, running a hand up and down my side before I dare to kiss him right under a security camera blaring down on us.

He kisses back, and I place my hand on his cheek feeling his hand tighten on my hipbone. I feel the heat of his lips over mine, just slightly opened, barely offering more than a normal kiss, but it’s slow and full of a bizarre understanding. I feel his love and his hesitancy, but I don’t fault him for it. I understand. I understand us. I understand we’re going nowhere. We never will until something causes the end of the stand-off, and I don’t know who our knight to break the standstill will be, but if we stay like this, one day we’ll get there. One day something will improve us. For now, we can live how we do. I guess we’re as comfortable as we can be, and I can’t argue with that.

Nikolai breaks the kiss, and I lean down for another kiss. “I love you, Nikolai.”

He smiles at me in return, doesn’t close a door, doesn’t glare. He just smiles, simple and telling enough with experience for me to know that he loves me too. Nikolai loves me. I love him. That’s a big enough step for now.

-
“Water!” comes a shout from upstairs. I jerk my head around from my spot on the stairs with Nikolai to see Maggie holding up her skirts and running down the stairs as fast as she can. “Excuse me!” She charges between us, her skirts flying up a little too far before dashing towards the kitchen at full speed. A few minutes later she comes back with an entire bag of ice sticking out of a bucket filled with water which is splashing everywhere. She tries to dash up the stairs but starts to fall until I catch her.

“What on earth is the rush, Maggie?” Nikolai asks, and she catches her breath before muttering ‘Sevastyan’ and trying to run with the bucket up the stairs again.

Our interest is peaked, so we both follow to find Nikolai’s father passed out on his desk. Maggie dumps the bucket of water over his head, and he jerks upwards as if shot with something and holds onto his shoulders. “What in- M-M-Maggie!”

“Mr. Sokoll, you passed out again!”

“Shh,” he says with a sigh, rubbing his forehead. “Can you get me some towels? I can’t change right now.”

“You’ll catch a cold if you don’t change, sir,” she scolds in a rather loving manner. He looks at her and then gives another sigh.

“I suppose you’re right, dear,” he answers before getting up. He suddenly looks down. “Maggie, next time you do that, remove the files from my desk please. Now I’ll have to phone the Pitchfork again for a whole knew set. And I’ll have to get a new tax form.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I panicked.”

He just shrugs his shoulders and leaves the room before Nikolai and I can even ask him anything. Instead, Nikolai turns to Maggie. “What was all that about?”

“Mr. Sokoll keeps falling unconscious. He’s asked me to do what I can to wake him, and I figured that might work – but he’s not out for very long, and I guess I should have thought that through a little more.”

“He probably just needs more sleep,” Nikolai says with a worried tone as he crosses his arms. “Can’t you slip some sleeping pills into his drinks or something?”

“Not if I like my job,” she says with a laugh, and Nikolai sighs before motioning at the door.

“Well, you’d better at least wipe down the desk for the mess you ma-”

The doorbell chime runs through the house, and she looks at the mess then the door. I smile at her. “I’ll go get the door, Maggie. Don’t worry.”

Nikolai, now apparently bothered, follows me very close because when he’s upset I know he likes contact with other people.

Fikri is found standing in the doorway along with Mikania. Mikania leans forward and hugs Nikolai, giving him a kiss smack on the lips before smiling. “Boss said when the time came we were to just take you with us,” Mikania explains, but I’m still confused. Fikri holds out a gun to me. The gun gives me a little clearer of an idea given as he’s the man that taught me how to shoot.

I hear coughing from the top of the stairs, turning to see Sevastyan standing there with a towel draped around his waist. It’s funny how much he looks like a normal man standing there with the bird wings wrapped down his arms visible, the soviet symbol on his stomach, and an ‘SS’ on his shoulder over a series of numbers that make me think of a prison camp. One hand holds onto his towel as he looks down the stairs. “I’ll be arriving soon. Wait up for me. Mr. Popov – ”

“Yes, sir?”

“Remember Takahashi has destroyed your family, countless families, even mine. I’m giving you the honor of killing the man who set your mother up for rape, who destroyed your father, and tried to kill you. I’m letting you get your revenge, and after today – I feel I owe you nothing. You have to make yourself worthwhile the moment you pull that trigger. Your life is yours again.”

I nod at him, full of understanding on that subject as well as he addresses Mikania. “Take him to the scum. Wipe the world a little cleaner today.” He turns and walks away calmly despite the fact that he’s in a towel, and I can clearly see the mighty eagle sprawled across the entirety of his back, the head tucked beneath his neck, and a rose with a petal falling down to beneath the towel in it’s clutches just like the entire family is within his power. No, the entire city is within his power. The world is in his power, at least, my world is in his power and that’s all that matters.

-

My fingers are quaking as I press the barrel of the gun against the back of a head of black hair. Sasha is gagged across the room, his eyes on us, on me, but his father is at my feet, tied and bound. Sasha’s true father raped my mother. He killed my father. He destroyed my family. He ruined my life, but my fingers still shake as I stare down at his body bound before me on the ground.

Nikolai reaches up from behind me, and I feel an arm wrap around my waist. I can see his gleaming yellow eyes out of the corner of my eye as he slips his hand caressingly down my arm until our fingers are intertwined. I move to look at him, but his fingers tighten on my hand, and the body before me falls slack forward as Nikolai’s hand grips mine tight above the trigger. He gives me a reassuring smile before turning to Sasha, gagged but clearly screaming as he’s thrashing, gray matter sprayed about his face and shirt.

I don’t feel sick. I don’t feel regret. Instead, I drop the gun and wrap my arms around Nikolai as tight as I can without letting his hand release mine. His touch made me kill a man today, and I didn’t feel sorry because the last time he helped me kill a man he helped me kill myself on the inside a little.

Today, the king moves the pawn and pauper from his place.

THE END.