Sergei's Return. [Open to anyone who wants to greet him.]

[gurlukovich.livejournal.com]

It had been far too long since Sergei had seen Grozynj Grad. Not many people would say that sort of thing - no, most people were eager to get out of there, not to go back - but it was closer to a home to him than where he'd just been.

When news had come that his mother was sick, he still hadn't hesitated to jump on a plane for home. The fact that he never spoke about his family was sign enough that they didn't get along very well, but blood was still thick. He wasn't about to ignore his mother's illness. If it had ended up being bad enough that she'd died from it and he hadn't gone to see her one last time, what then?

Unfortunately, the reunion had been far from pleasant, but he had been expecting that. As it was, it seemed that his mother would recover. At this point, however, he didn't want to think on it any longer. There was probably only one person that would ask him more than a few questions about it. Luckily, the major was the one person he was willing to talk to about it.

As he exited the helicopter, the artificial gusts caused by the propeller blew dust into his eyes. He turned his head and coughed. It hadn't helped that the flight into the base had left him a little queasy. Usually it wouldn't be problem, but the fact that he'd gone straight from an airplane into a helicopter meant there hadn't been much time for his stomach to settle.

Now that he was back home, however, he got the feeling he'd be just fine. Pulling out his unit's trademark red cap and placing it firmly on his head, he scanned around for anyone familiar. Had anyone caught wind of his return and decided to come give him a warm welcome, maybe? He'd been gone for a while, so it was possible some of the others had been missing him. Then again, he could be hoping for too much. But if no one showed up, he could easily get back to his room to unpack on his own.

Comments

[andrei-isaev.livejournal.com]

The Ocelots were milling in the shadow of the artillery shed, some smoking, some leaning against the wall and clapping their hands against the cold, waiting for the chopper to power down.

Ocelot- The Ocelot- didn't like them wearing anything other than Battle Dress Uniforms unless it were strictly unavoidable- Generals to be saluted or extreme cold weather conditions.

It wasn't bitterly cold today, but the whirring blades added a significant chill to the air.

Andrei noted Sergei before the others- indeed, he was somewhat unmissable as the Kamov's only passenger, putting on his red beret and looking around.

As if they wouldn't all come out to greet a brother.

Andrei shook his head, amused.

"Serhyoza!" he called, cupping his hands around his mouth. "Oi, Serhyoza! Come join your unit."

But he quit his post by Semeyonev and made for the tarmac with rapid bootclicks. grinning.

When he got to his comrade he slung an arm around him, and tugged his beret. The fair hair underneath was a little overlong, away from the barber's clippers.

"Tak, Sergei," Andrei laughed, tweaking a lock. "You're getting as bad as Ilya and I."

It was common knowledge that they both dodged the clippers whenever possible. Major Ocelot had pretty much given up suggesting it.

The other Ocelots were watching, raising their chins and cigarettes in greeting.

"Come on, Gurlukovich," he said, nodding back at them.

Andrei shouldered one of Sergei's canvas bags and led him back to the pack with a congenial grin.

[charushkin.livejournal.com]

Bastards.

So he'd been covering a few shifts here and there and technically should have been sleeping - but he'd missed his bunkmate, and dammit, he was going to be there to welcome him home.

And there was the slightest tug on his heartstrings. He'd guessed enough of what was happening, even if Sergei hadn't said much. And for not knowing the outcome, he could still offer some comfort. Matvei had known that kind of loss.

He darted around the buildings, holding onto his beret tightly, hair still shaped like his pillow, and ran out onto the helipad, in time to see Andrei lifting a bag and bringing Sergei back into the fold.

He felt the slightest twinge of resentment that Andrei didn't wake him up. They hadn't resolved their argument yet, but he thought it was low that he would've let him sleep past welcoming back his little brother.

Matvei had been an only child; besides the other Ocelots, Sergei felt most like family.

He braked from his run, suddenly, into and amongst his unit, feeling he shouldn't probably march out there. Sergei probably didn't want to be harassed.

Besides... something said he oughtn't. It just wasn't right to bound out there and tackle him with all the affection he could muster.

He watched, feeling warmer than the others to think he'd have someone to talk to in the evenings, instead of gazing at an empty top bunk above him.

[gurlukovich.livejournal.com]

It didn't take long to find them. The matching uniforms - though some were wearing an extra coat or two, and he didn't blame them - coupled with the cloud of smoke that had formed over the group... Sergei was surprised he hadn't noticed them earlier.

Andrei was the first one to call out to him. He hadn't exactly been expecting that, seeing as he was higher in rank and was usually busy chatting with Ilya or, more recently, the dark new addition to their ranks. He still had barely exchanged a word with the sniper, but that was partly due to the fact that Andrei had been so busy with him. Sergei wasn't the sort to get involved with gossip, even among his own comrades, but he had to wonder what Ilya thought of all that.

He was glad to be with his brothers again, unable to keep a bright smile from his lips as Andrei rushed forward to greet him. He wrapped his arm around the other soldier in kind, laughing faintly at the comment about his hair. "I know. The major might throw a fit if I don't take care of it soon." Letting it stay slightly longer didn't sound so bad, but if Ocelot wanted it short, then he would, of course, comply.

Sergei nodded in thanks when Andrei took one of his bags. He was certain the other knew he could carry all of his baggage on his own, so he saw the gesture as friendly instead of condescending.

As they made their way back to the rest of the group, he couldn't help searching out two people. First off was the major, but he had already figured Ocelot would be too busy to come out merely to greet him, and it seemed he'd been right about that. Second was his roommate, naturally, and it didn't take long for him to find Matvei. He looked slightly flushed and maybe rumpled, as if he'd been in a hurry. And Sergei knew that bed head better than anyone, since it was the first thing he saw most mornings.

He nodded to each of his brothers in turn, settling his gaze on Matvei last. "You slept in?" he asked with an amused grin.

[charushkin.livejournal.com]

As Sergei was the man of the moment, and was now addressing Matvei, a few of his comrades took the moment to notice and tease him for having a blush.

Matvei offered a mock-scowl, but otherwise ignored it. He'd just run the equivelent of morning drill, he was sure of it.

"Change of shifts. Just making up the numbers." He did look tired, but he smiled widely. "And no-one woke me up, so here I am after breaking a sprint record."

He laughed breathlessly, and then sensibilities be damned, he grabbed Sergei into a hug like he hadn't seen him for years.

He lifted off his beret, and smacked Sergei across the arm with it. "If you want, I'll take care of your bags. The Major will shit kittens if he doesn't know you're safe and sound."

[gurlukovich.livejournal.com]

So Matvei had kicked himself out of bed and run a marathon over to this side of the base just to see him? That was quite the honor, and Sergei had to admit that he was pretty flattered.

Before he could get out any words of thanks, his bunkmate had launched himself at him with enough fervor and excitement that Sergei stumbled back a half-step. He had to admit that Matvei gave some of the best hugs in all of the Soviet Union. It was understandable, though. As soldiers, they didn't necessarily have long expiration dates. The amount of time he'd been gone practically was years for them.

He fought the urge to stick his tongue out at his friend when he got smacked with the beret, but became more serious when the major was mentioned. "Where is he?" He probably had to report in after such a long absence, so maybe it would be for the best if Matvei handled his luggage. "I'd be very thankful if you hauled my stuff back for me, though, Motya. And then you should get some more sleep." He didn't really like to think that the other soldier was losing precious hours for his sake - and in a way, this was his way of thanking Matvei for making that effort.

[andrei-isaev.livejournal.com]

"You'll need to report to Ocelot before you resume any duties," said Andrei, lighting a cigarette. "You know how he is."

He lifted his chin.

"He's over at the offices in the North wing."

Ocelot had not told them what he was doing there, but Isaev suspected it had something to do with Nika and the pathologist. Watching, no doubt- hovering, to make sure they didn't get an eyeful or an earful of anything they weren't supposed to see or hear.

Andrei noted Matvei's crestfallen face.

He felt a pang of empathy for his comrade. Sergei would always pick the Major over his rankmates, Andrei knew. He pursued his CO's approval and proximity with the passion of an athlete.

He took a drag off his cigarette, and squeezed Matvei's shoulder obliquely, but said nothing.

[charushkin.livejournal.com]

Matvei stiffened very slightly, but relaxed a moment after.

He still hadn't quite gotten past his anger with Andrei, but he didn't resent his compassion, either. His original feelings felt further away now.

Same with Sergei, as he set off, leaving him with a duffel-bag, and feeling tired and sweaty.

He felt suddenly deflated, and didn't know why.

[gurlukovich.livejournal.com]

"North Wing. All right." Knowing how the major liked punctuality, it would probably be best if he headed over right away. (Or maybe he was just telling himself that when delaying it slightly wouldn't be a big deal, but that was how Sergei was.)

He wasn't completely oblivious to the fact that Matvei had just left without another word, however. It was possible his bunkmate was just cranky after getting too little sleep, but it didn't seem like him to just take off like that.

Well, he could talk to him about it later.

He turned back to Andrei and the rest of the group that was gathered. It certainly wasn't everyone, but he imagined not all of the Ocelots were like Matvei and willing to lose sleep to welcome him back. He didn't blame them. "You've all been holding up without me?" he teased as a playful smile touched his lips.

[andrei-isaev.livejournal.com]

"I've been weeping into my pillow every night," said Andrei wryly, with a hint of a smile.

Merciless teasing was the best way to make a brother feel loved.

"Actually, you have been missed. I'm used to hearing you jerk off through the wall next to my bunk. Makno does it too, I'm sure, but he always bites his tongue. It's been way too quiet at night."

Andrei was only half joking, but he knew it could easily be dismissed by Gurlukovich as a crude soldier's jest. They tossed around such words and accusations like verbal confetti.

After all, when Ilya said 'fuck your mother', he didn't usually follow through.

[ilya-imanov.livejournal.com]

Ilya was smiling, glad to see their youngest, as well.

He was wondering, though, why Matvei seemed to be in a hurry all of a sudden; his pace suddenly quickened.

He mentally shrugged, and caught up with Andrei.

"Andrei," he said with a shake of his head. "Say things like that about precious Sergei, and the Major will blow out your eardrums. With his dick."

He grinned.

[gurlukovich.livejournal.com]

Sergei couldn't have handled it in the Ocelot Unit if he hadn't gotten used to the crude teasing. There was no reason to get worked up and flushed over every single quip.

Despite that, he still seemed a little red.

"I'll make sure to scream extra loud tonight, then," he responded with a toothy grin, patting Andrei on the shoulder. Yes, this sort of thing was fine, so long as the name he would be screaming wasn't brought up or joked about. Even if it was meant as a jest, he would rather not hear it.

Glancing over at Ilya as he drew toward them, he nodded in greeting. "Good thing he isn't here, then."

[andrei-isaev.livejournal.com]

"Shit," laughed Andrei. "Ocelot's fucked my head so many times, there's a permanent tunnel for his prick. It just slides right in."

Ilya was right, of course- the Major was protective of Baby Gurlukovich...

But the man standing in front of Andrei was not exactly an infant any more.

Hell, he was scarcely two years younger than their commander himself.

Andrei snorted, amused. Sergei could give as well as he got.

"Thanks, comrade. I sleep much better with a serenade."

[gurlukovich.livejournal.com]

If Andrei showed any outward sign of examining him perhaps too closely, Sergei certainly didn't notice it. He was busy glancing around at the rest of the unit and more importantly, figuring out the quickest way to get from here to the North Wing.

Turning back to Andrei, he smiled amiably. "I'll do my best," he said, even adding a salute for emphasis. "Maybe I'll even try to get Matvei to join in, hmm?" Though with the way he'd stormed off, he wasn't sure how likely that would be. There was no reason to voice that concern out loud, however.

[ilya-imanov.livejournal.com]

"Good luck with that," Ilya muttered, mostly joking.

Charushkin had repression issues that he couldn't even begin to de-construct. He had a feeling he probably didn't want to know what caused him to freak out and pale over something he clearly wanted himself, no matter how hard he denied it.

Matvei was capable enough within the unit, and in general happy, and Ilya didn't think he had the right to interfere with his professional opinions - he had a different duty here, and his past had nothing to do with it.

[capt-kasya.livejournal.com]

Kassian had come with the others, though he'd hung back a bit while Gurlukovich's comrades had crowded around him, catching up. It had been about two weeks since Kassian joined the squad, and he'd found his place in it. But Gurlukovich had been absent for most of that, and unlike the others, Kassian hadn't gotten to know him.

Kassian remembered liking him all right, though. Quiet, and unlike Charushkin, seemingly not predisposed to dislike him from the start.

He waited until the others had backed off enough to give Gurlukovich a moment to breathe, then offered him a nod.

[gurlukovich.livejournal.com]

Well, that was a surprise. Considering Kassian and he barely knew each other, he hadn't been expecting the older man to come and offer a "welcome home." Then again, if he was truly an Ocelot now, he must have learned that they were a family - and they supported each other, no matter what.

Besides, there was no reason they couldn't get to know each other now. Sergei hardly had the time to carry on a conversation with him right this second, but he was still certain to show his gratitude by nodding back and offering a warm smile he only reserved for his brothers.

"They've been good to you, right?" he asked, wondering if even that was too open of a thing to ask. The sniper came off as so guarded that Sergei was always questioning what he said to him. Was it too friendly? He didn't want to accidentally offend the man just because he was trying to be nice.

Then again, he had never had many social problems in the past. People tended to like him from the start, which hopefully meant he properly expressed himself.

[capt-kasya.livejournal.com]

"Yeah," Kassian said, briefly.

An understatement, but he managed not to glance in Isaev's direction or look embarrassed when he said it.

The truth was, even not counting Isaev's...hospitality...the rest of the squad had turned out all right. Maybe Kassian had needed to give a little too, but now instead of hostile stares or hardly-accidental collisions in the hallways he'd gotten used to in other squads, the Ocelots gave him nods and talked and joked with him just like one of their brothers.

He supposed he was, now.

"Hope things went well," he said, by way of parting.

He'd only heard vaguely there's been some emergency with Gurlukovich's family. Kassian knew Isaev would probably tell him the whole story later, so there was no need to ask for it now.

Kassian offered Gurlukovich another nod but then faded back to let the young Ocelot continue to socialize with the others.

[gurlukovich.livejournal.com]

Sergei got the feeling that Kassian really meant that, and the way the unit had changed in their demeanor toward him - hardly noticing he was there because he was truly one of them now opposed to the way they had watched him with hooded glares before - seemed to reinforce that.

It was good. The last thing they needed was infighting. For this unit, though, they had always had too much of the opposite. From what he could tell, there was almost too much love being spread around.

That was all right, though. They were already fighting their enemies, so they had better love their friends.

"Well enough," he replied, and left it at that. He very much appreciated that no more questions were asked, since it wasn't something he wanted to tell the whole group about, as much as he trusted them. It would just take too long to explain and he had always been secretive about it, anyway. Luckily, Kassian seemed the sort of person who could acknowledge another's need for personal space and knew what would be pushing too hard.

He had wasted enough time, though. With one last scan of the unit, he shot them all a grin. "I appreciate the welcoming committee, but now I've got to go see the major." He bent down to grab the duffel bag Matvei had left for him to carry, and with a wave and a smile, started toward the North Wing.