Ilya + Andrei - continued from Death of a Brother

[ilya-imanov.livejournal.com]

He reached out and drew Imanov to him, holding him tightly, like any good brother would.

"I don't want to tell them either," he admitted, softly, close to Ilya's ear. "We'll do it together, Ilyasha. Tomorrow. Not tonight."

There was strength in numbers, Andrei knew. Breaking the news would be less than enjoyable, but it was unavoidable.

His fist stroked Ilya's back rhythmically, slowly.

"But I won't let you do it alone."


Ilya crumpled into Andrei's arms, hooking his own over Andrei's shoulders, clutching to his uniform tightly. If his body gave into exhaustion, no-one would be able to tell; Andrei would hold him upright.

His face held the expression of pain, but it was safely pressed against his friend's uniform jacket, where it was safe to let the lid off of the bottle, slowly, just for a moment. He inhaled, quietly, taking in the smell he equalled with safety and comfort.

Tomorrow.

Ilya had wanted to get it out of his system, to not have to think about it ever again, but Andrei knew him better than he knew himself. Sometimes, his sense of duty overrode his own well-being.

It was a horrid, selfish thought that prickled at his conscience, but he'd rather it was Sergei. If it had been -

... He couldn't imagine Andrei absent from his life.

"But I won't let you do it alone."

"... Promise me," Ilya murmured quietly, so no-one else would hear, "not to go anywhere by yourself."