Apocalypse, slightly later [February 20, 1964]

[hajimenoippolit.livejournal.com]

Tests. More tests.

The blood did exactly as it was told and gave up few answers.

Rakitin had conjectured that the poison would prove to be something similar to arsenic, and was almost immediately proved wrong. It was arsenic, and at an astonishing concentration. If Lynx had been one moment later...

It didn't bear thinking about. A world without the Colonel in it would be a small, drab place.

That was not the problem.

There was another agent present in the mixture, something lurking and insidious hiding beneath the first layer of deadly intent. Hideous.

Finding it was the first step. Now all Rakitin needed was a name.

That was proving to be the tricky part.

The poisoner could have been measuring out components even as the Colonel was inviting Ippolit to stay.

Rakitin would find it. It was a matter of time.

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[heartofthunder.livejournal.com]

Volgin opened his eyes again, and there was Alexei.

It was just like a dream, wishing for something and then having it appear right in front of him, as large as life.

Scarred lips pulled into a slow, pleased smile.

"Alyosha," he said, but his voice rasped dry, barely audible.

"Alyosha," he tried again.

Volgin felt tired, even moreso than when Ocelot had been here, however long ago that had been. Not long, he thought, because Ocelot called to have Alexei released. Just a few minutes, then.

He almost couldn't be bothered to worry about it. He found himself caught once more by Alexei's eyes, which were the beautiful blue he remembered, as clear and bright as a warm winter day.

"There you are," Volgin murmured. "And you were there when I needed you, weren't you?"

[snow-death.livejournal.com]

"You're awake," said Lynx, quietly. "And alive."

His hand found Volgin's chest, and curved over his heart possessively.

"A regular Rasputin of Tselinoyarsk," he averred, letting his eyes drink in the scarred, beloved features of his former commanding officer and lover.

His eyes faltered in resolve, and he broke at the sight.

They lowered, as his head lowered, to rest upon Volgin's blanketed chest.

"I'll always be there when you need me," Alexei told him solemnly, feeling the thrum of the massive heart that animated that broad chest, pounding slowly and surely beneath the cage of his palm. "Or I'll die trying."

[heartofthunder.livejournal.com]

"I know, Alyosha," Volgin whispered.

Something in him felt lighter, to hear Alexei talk this way. It was like before, four years ago, before he'd lost Alexei in a flash of light that had crashed over him like thunder.

Volgin had gotten new scars that day. He'd been bleeding when he'd run out into the hall, desperate to find help.

Somehow, Alexei's words made it easier to breathe.

He still felt feverish. Weak, but yet comforted by the knowledge that Alexei was here.

Volgin tried to raise a hand so he lay it atop Alexei's head, but his arm felt like it was strapped to the bed. His hand twitched, but went nowhere.

"I know," he said, again, because he couldn't touch Alexei. It felt like the next best thing. Volgin closed his eyes and just lay there, content with the gentle weight of Alyosha's head against his chest.

When he felt himself drifting again, Volgin opened his eyes.

"Alexei. There are some things I want you to know. About...the way I want things to be. I want you to come home. I want you to have a place where. Ever since you came to me that night, I've been thinking...and I have an idea."

[snow-death.livejournal.com]

Lynx closed his eyes.

"An idea?" he said softly.

It was nice to hear someone had an idea, someone other than him for a change.

He began to remember what he loved about Yevgeny, apart from the Greek passion and unnatural acts of affection.

Volgin had and felt autonomy and authority in his will, which was liberating, no matter where on a scale of morality those choices fell. All he'd had to give to Zhenya was utter devotion and occasional insight- he led his own campaign and had his own mind.

It made Lynx feel less like Atlas.

"Tell me," he said, reaching for Volgin's hand and capturing it in his own.

He let his lips brush across the stricken palm.

"...You know I never wanted to leave."

[heartofthunder.livejournal.com]

"I know," Volgin said. "But I'll make it up to you."

Alexei's touch, his scent, his rich voice - all of it felt so achingly familiar that Volgin couldn't believe they'd been apart for so long. Four years. It had been a lifetime.

He thought back to the night Alexei had come back to him, again disbelieving it had only been two nights ago. It seemed like much longer, though perhaps that was because he'd spent much of the time since in thought, daydreaming idly, and then not so idly, about what it would be like to have Alexei back in his life.

Volgin let his eyes close again.

He started to talk, seeing the future play out in his mind's eye, the same way it did when he thought about his subjugation of the West. Volgin had heard once, that in order to achieve his dreams, all a man had to do was imagine his success, to visualize it in his head, and he could make it be so through force of will alone.

It had worked well for him so far.

"I want Groznyj Grad to be more than just a remote fortress out here in the Urals, Alyosha. I want it to be...a training academy, of sorts. We'll take the best and brightest from everywhere and bring them here to be trained by the best. That's you. That's Ocelot. That's the Boss, and the Cobras. We'll train them, then we'll keep the very best of those, and they'll become part of our army."

It would be like a family, Volgin thought, and the kind of loyalty that would grow among them would be just like the legendary Cobra Unit.

He could see that image too, Alexei surrounded by a group of alert, inquisitive trainees, utterly in his element. It had always seemed to Volgin that Alexei found instruction very fulfilling. Volgin had always found it a joy to watch Alexei with his students.

Volgin let out a soft sigh.

"What do you think? Would you like that, Alyosha?"

[snow-death.livejournal.com]

The image Volgin spun was a the sharpest kind of cupid's arrow, leveled directly at all the things Alexei held to be crucial and essential.

Brotherhood. Love. Purpose. Skill. Ingenuity. Sculpture. Art. Elitism. Isolation. Hermitage. Conquest. Lust. Passion.

And Volgin, the storm eye of it all, the axis, like a human Tesla coil.

"That would be heaven," murmured Alexei, raising his head, eyes light and seeking. "We could do it, Zhenya. It could be..."

He paused.

"But the men they sent with me..." he said, sobering. "They're bivouacked in a remote locale, awaiting me, Colonel. Do I have your permission to bring them here, until I can figure out how to neutralize the threat? I've told them we'll be laying low, no attempts until I give word."

Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

Volgin knew the old adage as well as anyone.

[heartofthunder.livejournal.com]

Volgin's smile turned light, and dreamy, utterly pleased by Alyosha's enthusiasm.

It would be like the family he'd never had, and never would have.

His own private army, loyal and true. The inheritors of the Earth remade, the globe that would be sundered by lightning, but joined once more by that same force now tamed and directed at will.

That was what Volgin did. He was a force of nature himself, destructive, but also creative. It wasn't going to be merely enough for him to conquer the world, but he intended to unite it, as well.

Volgin's eyes shut again. He felt exhausted from the effort of talking. The effort of dreaming.

"Of course, Alyosha," he murmured. "You know I trust you utterly. Whatever you need to do."

[snow-death.livejournal.com]

Evidence of the pain the Colonel endured brought the taste of compassion to his mouth like lime, but Alexei felt no disappointment or disillusionment in seeing Volgin like this, kitten-weak and wan.

To Alexei, Zhenya was always a juggernaut of epic proportion- whether recuperating or rampaging, the energy of the man remained the same, and that energy was utter, raw power and assuredness. Volgin did not question his right to be in the world, or his fitness to own it.

Lynx had seen him in every state of submission imaginable, and loved him all the more in his vulnerability and surrender, always to him, only to him.

He knew Volgin would rebound to this blow, shake the plaster of the fallen sky off his massive shoulders, lift those steel grey eyes in a predator's gaze and rise up even more colossal.

The idea made Alexei long to deconstruct him, the way they loved, the way they practiced when they were alone.

"When you're better, Yevgeny, I intend to fulfill all my promises in full," he whispered, easing his hand down Volgin's massive thigh. "Perhaps even before then, I can give you a taste of what we've missed."

He smiled, unable to help himself as a feeble spark of tiny lightning frittered over Volgin's broad loins.

Volgin would not be this fatigued for long, or forever. Being bedridden would begin to bore him soundly soon enough.

Alexei intended to spend a number of visiting hours making the man forget his misfortune.

His eyes met Volgin's, and then he leaned forward, stroking the chilled skin of his face, slowly.

"Zhenya...please forgive me for letting it get this far. I saved you from death, but not from agony. I should have known, I should have watched more carefully."

[heartofthunder.livejournal.com]

"Nonsense," Volgin murmured. "There's nothing to forgive. Lightning strikes where it wants."

He gave a small laugh, a slight shrug of his shoulders, but even that tiny motion cost him.

Volgin frowned as he felt once more newly exhausted, unable to hold his eyes open.

"And...you know I don't mind...a little agony...now and then."

In spite of the darkness that threatened to overtake him, Volgin felt pleased to be reminded of what he and Alexei had once shared together, glad for the fact his power hadn't tried to steal their intimacy from Alexei's memory.

No, Alyosha seemed to remember everything just fine, now.

"Mmm...you know I'll hold you to each and every promise," he whispered, smiling again as he thought of the consequences to come. Alexei knew how to own him, how to break and then remold him. He knew how to dole out exquisite pain, knew how to touch Volgin everywhere he liked. And more than that, Alexei did it all with absolute skill and confidence.

But event the promise of what was to come wasn't quite enough to let Volgin stave off weakness.

"And I'll be better soon, Alyosha."

His lips twitched, even as his eyes drooped shut.

"Trust me."

[snow-death.livejournal.com]

"I do," said Alexei, more for his own benefit, as Volgin had already drifted into an involuntary sleep.

That was good. The body was insisting it needed to go offline to heal, despite the great man's wishes. Even Volgin couldn't oppose his own massive temple.

Lynx leaned over, slipping his hand gently away from Volgin's, pressing his stoic lips lingeringly against the heavily bossed brow.

He could feel the rise of scar tissue beneath, and it gave him a soft thrill.

Drawing back, he regarded the mountainous man, incongruous and unconscious beneath his hospital sheet.

"Sleep well, Zhenya. Be strong."

He stood up just as the attending nurse came in.

It was the younger one, the night nurse. The one he'd come to think of as Svetlana of the seals.

"Oh," she said, her mouth forming a perfect sphere of surprise. "I was just about to tell Major Ocelot that visiting hours were over- where did you come from?"

"Everywhere and nowhere," said Lynx, giving her a brief wink. "I was just leaving."

The young nurse paused, then beckoned him into the outside ward.

Lynx followed, sparing one wistful backward glance at Yevgeny, now slumbering like a mountain giant. The expression of weary anguish on his face pained Alexei somewhere murderous and primal.

He longed to break Lemsky's neck with his hands, very slowly, so that he would hear the give and strain of the bone.

But no. Lemsky could not turn up dead like that on his watch. There would be no explaining it to Aryol or...

As he closed the door behind him, he raised his eyes to the young nurse, who had gone back to her desk, and was rolling bandages industriously.

"He seems stable," Lynx remarked evenly, in case she wanted to contradict him.

Svetlana frowned.

"He is," she said, "For the moment. I mean, the arsenic responded fabulously to chelation," she gushed. "Textbook. It helped that it was given along with vast amounts of sugar-that actually nullifies a great deal of the effect! They say that's why Rasputin was able to survive such massive doses of arsenic. It was given to him in desserts and sweet wine. Isn't that something?"

"Yes," said Lynx, frowning. It was.

"Clearly your poisoner is not a student of history," she said, cheerfully.

"Clearly," Lynx echoed, his jaw tightening at the thought of Lemsky.

"Or..." she paused, looking down, sobering abruptly and making him frown.

"What?" he demanded, stepping forward slowly.

"Well," she said, uneasily. "There was evidence of a second compound, possibly a biotoxin. The arsenic...might have been to distract our efforts while the real poison does its damage."

She paused.

"Normally we would think someone who administered arsenic with sugar was an amateur, and that the presence of another poison was just that amateur throwing things against the wall and hoping they'll stick. But...if this was a sophisticated attempt, it might be a cover for the real threat, and whoever dosed the Colonel might have known and anticipated that sugar counteracts arsenic. And known that it didn't matter."

She trailed off.

Alexei felt alarm rising.

Lemsky didn't make mistakes like that.

Not unless he had a reason.

"You don't know what this other toxin is?" he demanded, eyes narrowing.

Svetlana shook her head dolefully, looking up at him.

"The pathologist took blood samples with him this morning. He's working on identifying it, so that he can formulate an antidote."

Lynx paused.

Rakitin. That was good. The man seemed competent and devoted to cause.

"Let me see if I can make his job a little easier," he muttered, under his breath.

Alexei did not hesitate. He turned and pushed past the swinging doors, leaving poor Svetlana bewildered.

"Goodbye," she called, uncertainly in his wake.

Lynx didn't hear her. His body was already well down the hall, and his mind was further still, back up in the mountains, in their quiet retreat, where no one would hear Lemsky's screams if he refused to divulge his methods.

Alexei hit his Codec and buzzed Leshovik.

"I'm coming home," he said. "That prick Lemsky had better be there."

Then he clicked off, setting his jaw and leaving the gates of Groznyj Grad behind.