Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Landon

Chaos was his birthright.

He revelled in the toxicity of that addiction.
Like a moth to a flame.

The heady smell of destruction and pain with a hint of betrayal simply filled him with a rare euphoria. One of the few things he could feel.

‘Narcissistic personality.’ They whispered.
‘Low empathy.’
‘Antisocial tendencies.’
‘Dual personality traits.’
‘Sociopathic behaviour.’
‘Psychopath.’

He remembered what they wished for him to forget. The broken cries of his mother, a woman broken by the reality of the revolting monster that was her son. The treatments and therapy that dulled the sharp edge of his mind and shattered the glow of his soul.

Levi King, he had not addressed him as his father for a long time, who seemed to be attached to his heir and yet too much of a coward to admit it.

And Jonathan, no, grandfather, a man who had stared at a little broken boy and seen opportunity. A human shield for the grandchildren who were real - normal.

Landon King was unfeeling, cold and hollow. That had been his place in life.
That was who he would always be.
That was who he had to be.

So, he sat on his throne, a cruel smirk permanently etched on his godly face and watched as the peasants of the world scrambled for him.

His duty was clear and once he completed his tasks, he would be free.

He stared as Carson held a gun to his brother’s, no Brandon King’s, head. He looked back at Nikolai thrashing and screaming wildly, fighting the stiff restraints to get to his lotus flower…

‘Admit it, you devil. It was you. It’s all been you. Because of you, we lost him. Because of you he ended up in a prison cell for 3 years! It’s all your fault.’
Carson has found feeling, he muses, the emotions breaking loose, the gun moving closer to Brandon.
‘All this time! We let you live when we should have ended your pathetic little existence 3 years ago.’

He looks on, impassive, indifferent.

Nikolai continues to scream.

‘Let him go Carson.’ He says loud and clear, pressing the knife a little closer to Nikolai’s throat.

It wouldn’t make a difference, he reflects, to see a hole between his twin brother’s eyes or tear through his brother’s heart, sitting at his side, bound.

Brandon sobs quietly.

‘Please, no more.’ He whispers.

He remembers whispering the same words in an abandoned warehouse.

Broken and abandoned and abused.

There was no salvation.

Landon King should feel.

Jeremy Volkov steps forward softly, the leader of the heathens moving towards Carson and whispering but Carson shoves his leader away roughly.

‘Step back, Jeremy, he has to pay for his sins. For your prison sentence, for Glynn’s pain, for Bran, for all of them, you’re blinded by love, he has to suffer, he has to bleed, then maybe his rotten heart will finally feel.’

Brandon sobs harder and Nikolai who up until now had been thrashing and screaming, stills, tears streaming silently down his face.

He feels nothing at all, an empty chasm where his soul once was.

‘How else will a monster like him pay, if not with his own blood or the blood of the people he cares about?’ Carson says voice low in rage. ‘He will feel the pain when his brother’s dead body falls on his polished marble hall.’

Landon does not even spare Carson a glance. He turns to Eli.

‘You will hold him back until I say so.’

Eli cocks a brow.

Landon gestures to Nikolai.

He turns to his brother's heart and traces the knife up and down his face catching one tear after the next.

‘Tell me Sokolov, are you capable of protecting your lotus flower, of dying for him, of living as his admirer and servant, can you follow his wishes and love and desire him as long as he wants you.

Can you hold him when he falls apart and give him all the pleasures of the world. Can you be his strength, his vision, his very spirit.’

Silence.

Every single person in the hall stares.

Nikolai nods, the tears still streaming.

‘Always.’ He whispers.

Landon graces him with a rare soft smile.

‘That is oddly reassuring, my dear brother-in-law,’ there is a sharp intake of breath. He turns to the other occupants of the room, ‘Even I would not be foolish enough to bargain for my brother with his heart.’

He laughs and yet the sound is ugly and sharp and cold. Jeremy attempts to catch his eyes once more desperation etched upon his face.

Landon handles the knife with deadly precision, like a butcher preparing to slaughter an animal, Nikolai closes his eyes and then opens them just as swiftly, pupils dilating in shock at the rope that has been sliced through.

Almost at once both Eli and Creighton move forward simultaneously grabbing a muscular arm and holding back.
Nikolai struggles frantically at first but stills instantly with a single glance from Landon.

Landon pats the top of his head. The seemingly obviously mocking gesture has an undertone of softness.

Nikolai is wide eyed. The strength leaving his body as he stares unabashedly.

Landon almost smiles.

Almost.

He sighs.

‘Also, Nikolai, next time you attempt to kidnap someone, remember to be a bit more self-aware, don’t end up being kidnapped and ruining my brother's sanity, muppet.’ Landon whispers.

The tone is teasing yet an undercurrent of bitter strength is ever present as Landon closes his eyes as if pained.

His ears were still ringing from his punishment for allowing his siblings to date members of the Bravata.

The masks slide into place. Landon moves with precision towards his audience, to the fans prepared to watch the performance of their lives.

And he will deliver. Even if this may be his last.
There is no fear. No pain. No hate.
Just a soft reassuring content.
He will finally be free.

A mother who wished for anything but her monster of a son.
A father who could never again gaze upon him with love.
A sister who believed his love was too loud, suffocating, controlling.
A brother who would only ever agree. A twin who believed he was a pestilence.
A grandfather who had honed him into the perfect weapon.
A lover who had never seen him, hated him for what was beyond his control.

He looked at Carson, truly attempted to see the man before him but felt nothing.

He was tired.

‘You wish for me to bleed, Carson. You wish to watch as I shatter into little, tiny pieces and never again sully the lives of those around me.’

He laughed again. A dry, humourless, lonely sound.

It happened in a flash, and yet it was as if the world had stood silent at the fall of its King. The knife glinted in the chandelier light as it was raised high.

There was no sound, no chaos, nothing.

Only the sick squelch of cool metal slicing through flesh and bone.

The right thigh.

‘Let.’

He made not a single sound of pain.

The knife was pulled out in exactly the same manner. Precise, calculated, silent…
Before it was plunged once more into soft muscle, warm blood painting the marble halls a thick crimson.

Left thigh.

‘My.’

The knife is drawn out once more. Carson is too shocked to even move…to react. Eli and Creighton have released Nikolai and yet he makes no moves towards Brandon.

The knife drives itself into Landon's abdomen and finally…finally the others seem to regain control and snap forward eyes full of anguish.

‘Brother.’

He watched them with hazy red eyes and smiled gently and truly as they moved closer.

He pulls the knife from his stomach like a samurai who has chosen his own demise…his own demons.

He watches as the floor crumbles, and the ink eats everything alive. His barricade has finally broken, and the tsunami is closing in.

He raises the knife one last time and stares into the eyes of his greatest love and yet his greatest hate.
His damnation, his desire, his destruction and yet his ambition and smiles like a broken doll.

‘Go.’

He wanders who might be waiting for Jeremy at home now, in the safe place of their own cottage.

He stares at those maniac, frantic, pleading grey orbs and plunges the knife once more.
It slides Between his ribs perfectly.
He hopes it has mutilated his heart.
If he ever had one.

Carson’s eyes are full of terror.
Landon’s are full of relief.

‘LANDON !!’
‘LAN !!’
‘KING!’
‘BROTHER!’

‘KOTENOK !!’

His precious head does not hit the cold, hard ground. Hands rough and calloused and yet comforting hold him as though he is a fragile glass, edges cracking. He is placed down gently - carefully balanced as if a single jolt could break him. The gesture is practiced calm, controlled but the voice is anything but…

‘MOY KOTENOK !!…PLEASE LOVE …please…please…YOU CANNOT LEAVE ME LANDON !!’

Jeremy’s voice is low guttural- pained - he winces.
I never wanted to hurt you.

Pressure at his broken body at his heart and stomach. Blood that continues to flow unto the marble halls. A vow - a promise.

He cannot see much anymore. He is too tired to move. Multiple people hold him down at different points and attempt to hold his broken form together.

Some sobbing, others screaming.

So much despair, should it really all be there.
He was too much, too loud, too suffocating, too sharp.
Maybe they were relieved, maybe that was the cause of all this noise.

He does not heed any of them.

He turns back to his destruction; his own personal damnation sent from the depths of hell with storm grey eyes and a godly smile.

‘Qin ai de ni xianzai zai zuo shenme ?!’

It is spoken in a soft whisper paired with an unwavering loving gaze.

Back when loving wasn’t a sin, he had been jealous of Jeremy and his Russian, he was nothing but competitive - he had mastered Chinese in less than 6 months - had certificates and the rest of that stuff.

It had been his love language, reserved just for him. For Jeremy. He hadn’t spoken in that way in 3 years.

My love, what are you doing now??

‘Wo de Airen, ni zhongyu ziyoule ma.’

My love are you finally free.

Jeremy’s eyes widen in panic and his pleas increase in volume and vigour, desperate and finally…finally fearing…despairing and anguished - hopeless and distraught.

‘PLEASE…KOSHMAR…YOU ARE EVERYTHING MOY AMOR…I CANNOT LIVE WITHOUT YOU; I CANNOT LOSE YOU!!
PLEASE MOY SVET STAY WITH ME…DONT GO..., PLEASE…PLEASE…PLEASE…stay…you have to stay…’

Oh, beloved one…He muses as he is drained of his life essence…you were still attached to me. What good could I have been, still …at least I could hear you call me that just one more time…

Landon knows no more.

Chapter Text

Jeremy

The terrifying thud of Landon’s butchered body hitting the marble hall reverberated through his skull - echoing in every crevice of his conscience.

Landon. His only love. His literal soul. His KOTENOK had stabbed himself four times - ripped his beautiful body into pieces - because Jeremy was a failure .

Because Jeremy had failed to see the extent to which Landon would go to leave him.

To leave them all.

Unlike his brother who wore his control like armour, Landon had fooled them all with his effortlessly cruel glare and seemingly endless arrogance. He had carried the burden of the King Legacy while maintaining his own personal reputation and heirship and all with that
enraging smirk.

It had been the perfect alibi.

It had been enough.

Until it wasn’t .

Not anymore.

Not as he had screamed and pleaded for Landon - for his Kotenok to come back to him.

Not as Landon had stopped breathing, lips blue, face unnervingly pale and red,hot blood everywhere.

Not as Brandon wailed and Nikolai continued to weep despite being completely fine. As Eli screamed and Creighton tried to desperately continue compressions .

Not as Killian stood, frozen in shock at the tragedy that had befallen them due to his incompetence.

Even as the paramedics attempted to stem the endless flow of blood , as they had moved him to the stretcher, the seemingly endless drive to a hospital, even as he was wheeled into surgery , Jeremy’s hand had never left Landon’s, his mouth cracked open in broken pleas and cries of woe.

It had been thirteen hours - thirteen hours - of waiting.

None of them had left, each sitting upon the throne of misery they had created covered in the blood of the one person who had mattered.

Killian sat silent and still on the cold tiles of the hospital floor.
Glynn had arrived and moved next to Bran holding her other brother close as they both sobbed in unison.

Brandon and Glyndon forever a team against Landon.

Both Levi and Astrid had arrived by the tenth hour shouting orders and questions no one had the strength to respond to. They had continued their meaningless attempts at communication for a while before succumbing to the devastation in the room and sitting down.

Levi looked defeated.
Astrid looked heartbroken.

Jeremy didn’t care.

His eyes continued their vigil upon the red ‘In surgery’ sign above the room in which doctor after doctor attempted to save a life that no longer wished to remain.

Every wall of the waiting room was either covered in blood or dented with the force of the fists of a loved one.

Jeremy.
Brandon.
Eli.
Creighton.
Even Nikolai had roared at the blank canvas of a wall and punched .

Landon would survive this.
He had to.
He had to come back to Jeremy.

The doors to the surgery room were flung open, a nurse, red stains etched into her blue uniform ran out wide eyed and weary.

‘BLOOD…BLOOD!!…WE NEED MORE BLOOD…!PLEASE…HE IS LOSING TOO MUCH - YOU NEED TO TRANSFER MORE BLOOD…!!!’

This was the seventh time.

Astrid you had been sobbing quietly until now stood up weakly.

‘My blood is a match, I can give him some.’

The nurse nodded.

‘YOU WILL NOT.’

The words were spoken softly and yet they sliced through every individual in the waiting room.

Jeremy turned to the source of such an ugly voice and felt his face twist in unrelenting fury.

Jonathan King.

Astrid turned on her heel, matching Jeremy’s expression as she faced the King patriarch.

But before she could speak Jonathan spoke, ‘Why do you continue to grasp something that wishes so desperately to leave you…that boy has made his choice..you will not bleed over him.’

SMACK !

The sound echoed as the room itself shifted towards the scene of Astrid King punishing the King Patriarch.

Jonathan’s eyes darkened, his gaze focusing upon Astrid as Levi stepped between them.

The tension between them continued despite the tense silence in the room.

The clock continued to tick.

The doors to surgery crashed open a second time, a junior doctor rushing past.

‘LANDON KING…!RELATIVES OF…LANDON KING.’

He turned to the nurse.

‘THE BLOOD…!WHERE IS IT !!!’

The nurse shook her head frantically gesturing towards the commotion as Jeremy rose from his seat.The doctor turned to them, his gaze settling on Jonathan before his pupils disappeared.

‘Your family member is bleeding out, the patient is getting worse, we are losing him, his BP is dropping, he is DYING , when we ask you for blood as a last resort to save his life and you argue over who, what, when, where, how ,why instead of helping to save his life it isn’t anyone’s fault but yours if he doesn’t make it.’

The red sign flickered before it faded completely.

The doctor and the nurse stared at the doors of the surgery, faces pale, before rushing through.

Brandon’s eyes widened. Glyndons sobs increased in volume.
Astrid was screaming into Levi’s chest as Jonathan stood, face tight.

Jeremy lunged at the door, Gareth and Vaughn holding him down and away as he drove his fists into the metal frame.

Nikolai let out a colourful string of swears through his tears.

The doors opened.

A young female - an Indian doctor, dark hair brushed into a long thick braid - dark eyebags and pain etched into her face stumbled through.

Her movements were slow and tired and she sat down , head in her hands.

‘Doctor.’

Brandon spoke, voice shaking with every syllable.

‘How is he ? How is my brother ?!…Landon King…is he going to be ok…’

Every eye, every ear, every single person within the confines of that suffocating waiting room, drew in a breath of anticipation.

‘I’m sorry…’

PLEASE…PLEASE…PLEASE…PLEASE…PLEASE…NO…NO…NO…NO…NO…PLEASE…NO…

‘His condition was bad from the very beginning, he was severely malnourished and he had already lost too much blood. There were already many minor injuries on his body that added to the struggle… At one point he seemed to be improving so I requested more blood and for a brief moment he woke…he was highly disoriented and asked that we hide him away from the BAD guys and let him go before he slipped back into unconsciousness again. We checked for medical data and records and found that he had heart valve conditions that had not been addressed and that he had specifically requested a private cremation in the event of death…’

Jeremy strode towards the woman and yanked her shoulders forward - eyes empty.

‘Where is he..’

‘Release me.’ She whispered an expression of defeat on her face .

Jeremy shook her harshly before speaking in the same detached tone.

‘What have you done with him?’

She glared - defiant for a moment before she stood shoving his hands off her.

‘You have no clue who I am, do you ? I was his friend, you pathetic bastard, a childhood friend, one that actually stuck around during every up and down in his life. One that tried to save him - unlike you…How dare you even ask for him when you’ve been nothing more than a cruel reminder of his past to him.’

Jeremy stared, shocked.

‘He called me all those years ago, you disgusting little boy and told me about how in love he was…how happy he was…and you and your bravata ruined it…he was broken Volkov and instead of reaching out to him…you went on a sick murder spree and then promised to have your revenge. All he wanted was a chance to be loved without any conditions and you took that weakness and exploited it….so no….you don’t deserve to hold his body…the only part of him that you loved and had left…he is being cremated as per his wishes as we speak.’

Her voice dropped to a chilling whisper.

‘If you’re lucky, you’ll get a handful of ash and you wouldn’t even deserve that.’

An animalistic roar echoed through the waiting room.
Jeremy lunged and the Heathens held him back once more however the woman’s gaze did not waver. She chuckled.

‘The name is Lilith, Volkov, and I bow to no man but my King.’

She turned to the Heathens with the same cruel smirk.

‘I hope you’re well proud of yourself, you made him the villain, antagonised him to suit your fairytale and now you will live with the consequences.’

She turned to sobbing members of the King family.

‘Go on, keep on acting if it makes you pathetic conscious feel a little bit better then so be it.’

She turned to Astrid.

‘You choose one son over the other, Brandon over Landon,they both had the same heart condition and when presented with an opportunity for a transplant you chose Brandon, you may tell yourself the rest of your life that your choice was the right one, you lost the only child that cared for the well-being of your family. You let him die thinking he was a monster. I wonder who the real monster is now.’

She turned to the siblings, ‘I am no seer, that the minor injuries that he had, they will not self-inflicted he had been harmed again and again while living under your shared house and you did absolutely nothing,
your grandfather wanted nothing to do with bravata,he did not want to be affiliated with that side of the mafia at all , Landon was going to try and remove you from respective partners for this reason, and while I will agree that he attempted this at first, once he understood the depth of your emotions, he stood up for your relationships in front of matriarchs and Patriarchs of your household, alone.
He bore the weight of an heirship with no complaint while also excelling in art.

He pretended not to care , you never cared.’

She sighed , rage abated slightly and sat down heavily.

‘You do not deserve to grieve for him. Go and continue your lives just like before and pretend he had never existed.’

Brandon sank to the floor and howled, Glyndon’s trembling frame sobbing with his.

Astrid fainted in shock , Levi clutching her to him, his strength diminished, staring at the doors of the emergency room as if he could see through them.

Jonathan turned in his heel and strode out .

The Heathen sat in numb shock.

The fight bled out of Jeremy. His rage cooling as the reality of his wretched life set in. His roars turned to cries as he fell to his knees before the Doctor sobbing.

‘Please…please…I will do anything…give…anything…let me see him again…bring Lan back…to me…please…I can’t…cant …do this…n-not…with my …kotenok…no…p-please…’

The doctor inhaled as silent tears streamed down her cheeks.

‘Be happy, Jeremy Volkov, know that he is safe and happy and that nothing , that nobody, will ever hurt him again.’ She whispered before standing up and walking through the door of the surgical room again.

Jeremy paid no mind to the anguish in the room.

He crawled ,he did not deserve to stand in Landon’s presence, to the doors of the surgical room, mere feet away from his beloved and pressed his cheek to the tinted glass .

‘Landon…kotenok…are y-you…f-free now…you…wanted to…l-leave me …that bad…hmm…you…h-hate me…that much …huh…’ his voice cracked and a choked laugh tore through his soul.

‘I n-never wanted this…I love you…I don’t deserve to…I know…please…come back…come back to me…if you don’t come back…’ He inhaled ‘ I’ll…have to come find you…join you in hell…please…kotenok…wait for me…’

Bile rose to his throat and he began to heave ,parched throat working through the torment. He braced himself before the spots filled his vision, curling into himself as he fell into unconsciousness, relief filling his being.

Kotenok.

Chapter Text

It had been three years since the day that Landon King had committed suicide.
Three years since he had lost most of Jeremy - his brother.
Three years since Killian took a vow of silence. Three years since Vaughn and Gareth had looked the others in the eye.
Three years since Brandon had broken up with him and disappeared with his sister. Three years since the King’s went off grid.

They still visited the Heathen’s mansion, every once in a while, if only to share some drinks in miserable silence and ponder upon what had gone so horribly wrong.

Nikolai had believed that they - the heathens and their elites - were unbeatable - strong enough to overcome any challenge. Demons and angels alike.

It had only taken one man to turn that belief upside down, to twist it into the nightmare he lived now.

He thought of Brandon’s twin often. On the worst days, when the red haze turned into a black storm of darkness and rage he would curse his name.

Landon had left them, moved on and found peace, whatever that meant…but they had all been left behind suffocating in the ashes and debris of their loss, their failure.

Jeremy, Vaughn and him had taken on their positions within the Bravata but the brotherly nature and banter between them had died three years ago. They were boys no more.

Jeremy became an unfeeling animatronic at best and an animalistic monster running on ruthless efficiency alone at worst. He did not feel, did not think, did not even speak very often. He was feared, hallowed within the ranks of the Bravata but they rarely saw him.

Nikolai knew.

He always did.

When he wasn’t gutting, maiming or torturing with a dull blade and sharp eyes then Jeremy would disappear to his safe space, or perhaps his personal hell.

The cottage in the woods.

He lived religiously frugally- like a hermit. As if waiting for death to take him. As if beckoning Hades himself.

Vaughn had taken on his position as Pahkan but he had also evolved. His partner Remington had also left with the Kings, apparently Vaughn had made the mistake of telling Remmy that the Bravata came first and that no one, not even Landon let alone Remington, was an exception .
Astor had disappeared into Europe.

Vaughn had thought it was a joke, that they all needed space…time…

He was wrong.

They had lost their sanity. Their loves and life itself.
Gareth alone seemed to have been more lucky, him and Kayden seemed to have a good…thing…going on…whatever that was…but Gareth had changed from that snarky boy to a mature, calculating and brooding man.

Killian had not spoken a word since the incident , not even to Glyndon, they had eloped and married but their relationship had never recovered - strained forever by their mutual hate.

They were not untouchable.

Their sisters had long since given up on them.

The night Landon died, Jeremy had also died.
Brandon had died with them and he was nothing without Brandon so he supposed he had died too.
Killian had faded into nothing, Vaughn had too.

The night Landon died, it was as if time itself froze, not a single person had moved past it.

Nikolai’s daily musing about his world of suffering came to an abrupt halt at the dull stomping sound and the door opening.

He cracked open his eyes and stretched on the worn couch as Glyndon Carson and Brandon King walked in with little Eden Carson, auburn hair and intense blue eyes. Eden gave him a little wave - too excited for her own good or the mood of the room but Nikolai waved back enthusiastically.

She was the only ray of soft sunshine left in their dreary world.

‘Hiyah Uncle Nik, how are you ?!’

He smiled, ‘I’m great , my little Lady.’

She beamed again before skipping away.

Killian followed - always a step behind and Gareth followed with a strangely broken expression and no Kayden.

Mia, Annika, Maya and Cecily entered together all smiles and laughter until they saw the others in the room.

The masks slid into place.

Silence.

Vaughn and Jeremy were last, empty expressions and detached eyes.

The drinks were spread out. His sisters and Annika withdrew with little Eden.

Cecily surprisingly stayed. He raised a single eyebrow in her direction. Today was an annual ritual, a day to drink to exhaustion and stupor. To yell and throw and stab and wound and she had no part in it.

Her expression was scary, as if she knew something that could ruin them.

He turned away.

Nothing could hurt them. They were already shattered beyond repair.

He remembered that cursed night, mere days before the end.

Remi, Jeremy, Vaughn, Brandon, Glyndon, Creighton, Eli, Gareth, Kayden, Killian, Annika , Mia, Maya , Cecily and him had been sitting together at the Heathen mansion, party in full blast on the ground floor, they had been talking about the King’s art work, when the focus had shifted to Landon.

‘Landon’s art seems soulless.’ Vaughn.

‘Landon is soulless, the only part of Landon that could be loved is his body, that’s the only part that holds life.’ Killian.

He frowned as Glyndon giggled. ‘No one at home can really deal with him, grandfather prefers for him to stay away, he’s not cut out to be loved, ya know, family life isn’t a Landon thing.’

Brandon nodded. ‘He’s impossible to love, how do you love an iceberg that invalidates your feelings and refuses to leave you alone. He has his beauty, that has to be enough.’

Remi said nothing but he slipped away from Vaughn heading for the stairs.

Jeremy sat up slowly, ‘ Landon is a void, a soul-sucking mess that drains and destroys everything around him, you’ll lose all feeling if you stay in his circle for too long.’

‘He doesn’t deserve love.’ Creighton.

‘He isn’t worth it.’ Eli.

‘Shut it, you lot.’ Mia.

There were no joking laughs, just a numb sort of agreement between them all.

Nikolai felt sick.

He turned to the door, maybe it was best to take a break like REM-

A tall figure was walking towards the exit, confident posture and fine clothing and cutting edge…

He wondered who it was…

It couldn’t be Landon King, he had left the Island to visit family…

He knew better now.

Landon had probably heard everything.
He had watched and listened as the people he bled for and protected with his life, the people that he called loved ones, burned him to the ground.

What use was remembering these meaningless moments.

He looked at lotus flow-…no…Brandon King. There was no Prince Charming, no serene, regal grace. Just a bedraggled man who had died three years ago.

He remembered promising a broken body, blue and bled out that he would do anything to protect and provide, support and to love, to kill for ,to die for, to live for, to breathe for a brother. For Brandon King. For his Lotus Flower.

A walking corpse.

‘Why are you here?!’

Brandon.

Carson gave no reply. He never did.

‘Why are we here?’

It was a broken whisper and from Gareth of all of them, he frowned wondering what had happened in happy honeymoon land.

‘What is wrong with all of you .’

Cecily had appeared at the centre of the room with an enraged expression matching her strange body language.

‘It’s been three years people…and I know it’s been hard but…we need to move past this…our clubs have nearly run themselves into the ground, the businesses are degrading slowly and we are still -…’

‘How dare you.’

Nikolai turned slowly towards the cracked sound and stared.

Jeremy.

‘How dare you tell us to live and breathe and move on when he is not with us, when they are not with us.’

Vaughn looked away, another shot in his hand held in a vice-like grip.

Cecily’s face fell, her expression pale as she dropped onto the couch. For now.

She would try again and he would bet on it. He sighed weary and cold.

‘I broke it off with Kaydon.’

He turned to Gareth who was staring at the floor blankly. He would not be comforted by the others, he knew that, but still Nikolai stood and placed a hand on his shoulder.
He hoped it gave some comfort. Gareth looked up at him, expression haunted.

‘Damn it all to hell.’ It was Brandon who spoke now, ‘ we need to forget the past, erase it if we must, we cannot keep going like this, forever trapped in a cycle…’

The doors opened and Ilya stepped through, urgency etched into every inch of his form. Jeremy rose immediately walking towards his favourite bodyguard and best friend and Vaughn seemed to be moving to stand as well.

He hated this.
He needed this.

He stumbled off the couch.

The guard gave a worried glance at the other occupants of the room, gaze flitting between their drinks and faces before resting on Jeremy again.

‘Sir, there is a man and a woman at the gate who wish to enter, should I let them in.’

Jeremy stared back at Ilya for a minute before gesturing for him to lead the way.

Ilya immediately walked back through the door, the crowd following him.

They passed the old party room and the meeting hall and walked until the outer deck.

Nikolai’s eyes widened.

It was Lilith. The doctor from three years ago and by her side…
He inhaled sharply, turning swiftly to catch the shock and agony on Vaughn’s face…

By her side was Remington Astor, the same man who hadn’t shown his face within the Island for two and a half years - who swore that he would never debase himself with their dirty company ever again.

And he was not alone, Dr. Lilith stood by his side as if whatever they had come to do they would do together, fight together, win together.

Nikolai watched as Vaughn put on his armour piece by piece until it was not his friend but the Pahkan that stood before them.

Nikolai gestured to Ilya to let them in and - oh - how their entry wounded them…

There was no bitterness, no pain, no exhaustion or weight bearing upon their shoulders instead there was a skip to their every step there was a lightness in their gaze but there was also a strange excitement as if they were here to finally fulfil what was promised to them long ago.

Nikolai pondered upon it no longer and as they walked up the steps and onto the deck, he steeled himself for the storm that would follow.