I know who you are (Eva)

[Yulia Sokolov]

Lia was… not in a good place, and that was the best way she could put it to even herself. She felt devalued and somewhat alone currently, and she had withdrawn from most company as a reaction. She knew that she was being petty, she knew that she was being foolish, but it was hard to see someone from her past. That brought back a myriad of old feelings, both for the man himself and about what she had done over the years that she had known him. Her time in the Russian military was remembered fondly in part, but there were other incidents shoved under the surface.

She tried, for the second time, to work through those messy emotions. It was almost embarrassing that she had so much trouble handling this, and she began to consider some sort of counseling. Ben was a psychologist, maybe he could direct her to someone? She was sure he would if she asked, but instead she brought herself into her own kind of therapy. She already walked everywhere, but now she was started to trek all over Pilot Ridge. It was a relaxing hobby, and it was helping her, at least in her own mind. Today she was in a section of town she didn’t venture into all that much. It was one of the extremely wealthy residential neighborhoods.

Lia knew that she should probably head home, it had fallen dark and she really was not wearing anything light or reflective. That was when she saw a car pull up to one of the manors across the street. Lia just glanced over, watching since there was nothing else to watch. Then she stopped dead in her tracks. She recognized the man who climbed out of the car. It was another blast from the past, but one with a much more sinister meaning. It was Zoykov, Ivan Zoykov, that beast who had escaped the military. Last she remembered the man had been a monster, and now she felt it her duty to report him back to an authority that could contain him. She was off like a shot, darting across the street.

“Zoykov,” her voice rang out sharply to them as she headed pointedly across the street. “That is right, I know who you are deserter!”

[Anastasia van Drakke]

No. Anastasia's first thought was that she had imagined it. No one had spoken that name out loud in three years. It was the most tightly kept secret she had. They had. Turning slowly, her hand still resting on Ivan Avlang's arm the heiress looked the blonde woman up and down slowly. Her accent was Russian, and her posture stank of the military. Beneath her slender fingers, Ivan's bicep tensed, and Eva felt his urge to destroy, hurt, kill swell up through her like fire. Her skin buzzed with it, even as she tried to cool the dangerous urges with <calm/control/patience>.

This woman had no idea the danger she had put herself in by uttering that word.

"Вы ошибаетесь*." the empath said slowly, her tone soft but her eyes hard as diamonds. "Нет никого того названия здесь*." Beside her, she could feel Ivan's hands wrap around the hilts of the knives he kept at his hips, hidden by his shirt. She couldn't let him do that; too much attention so soon after the explosion, too many questions.

*you are making a mistake
** There is no one by that name here

And if this chit was from the Russian military, it would be disastrous if there was an investigation. Ivan's face was blank, but Eva could read his eyes. Cages and needles and darkness, no hope no light no her.

"Я улажу это, мою любовь. Ждите внутри, пожалуйста.*" the heirness murmured, then detangled her arm from his, and braced herself for his resistance. <Calm/trustme/listentome/trustme> His eyes narrowed, and he put an arm around her waist in a half embrace before shooting a look of pure hate at the intruder and striding into their garden.

*I will sort this out, my love. Go inside, please

Feeling the blade he'd slid under her shirt, Anastaisa took a deep breath, and started. <doubt/uncertianty/confusion>. "Вы сделали ошибку*," she repeated softly, "Вы должны только обернуться и пойти домой.**"

*You've made a mistake
**you should just turn around and go home

The metal was cool against her stomach, and her mouth was curved into a sooth smile. This strange woman was indeed making a mistake, one she would pay for. Dearly.

[Yulia Sokolov]

Yulia’s posture had indeed once again slipped into military regulation. She had ranked highly, black ops, and sometimes she fell back into her old habits. She was not exactly sure what was pushing her now to turn in Zykov, perhaps it was some way of staying active in that live now that it had shoved itself into her Vermont existence as well. Maybe it was just a desperate attempt to prove that she was still worth something in her old field. However it was mostly that she knew how dangerous this man was, and it terrified her that he was so close to the people she held dearly now. If nothing else she was going to protect them with every single ounce of courage that she had in her body.

She remembered the hole, she remembered what that fight could mean, and she had nearly landed herself in that pit once. Then again, how fair of a fight would that have been. It would have seemed unfair, but the petite Russian woman could kill with a glance. Who could fight that?

She stood her ground as the woman told her that she was making a mistake. Naturally she understood her mother tongue, but Yulia made a show that she was not afraid. She didn’t convert to Russian, to show that she was not afraid who hurt her.

“No, I haven’t made a mistake.” Then she gave Eva what bordered on a dangerous smile. “Are you afraid someone will hear me? Are you afraid they’ll hear the name Zykov?” She was pushing it, she knew, and she was almost shocked herself by her boldness but why not? There were so many problems in her life that she could not solve but this danger could be taken care of, could be avoided.

Yulia didn’t move to attack, if she needed to later she could corner him in the house, it would be the matter of a glance after all. She was curious though, what did this woman think she could do.

Then a coaxing voice started to make her doubt herself. She had made a mistake? Had she? Had she mistaken him for someone else? Maybe she should just go home. She moved to walk away but then she stopped. No, no she could not be wrong. She would not forget something that she had been trained to fear. However, she wasn’t afraid anymore. Yulia shook her head.

“No, I know who he is. I would not forget that face. He is a danger to everyone here, do you realize that?”

[Anastasia van Drakke]

"You are very sure, aren't you," Anastasia slipped into english easily, and unlike Ivan and Yulia, she had no accent other then the usual Los Angeles upperclass drawl. Yet the easy hollywood smile fixed to her face slipped when she insisted on using that old name again. "Don't be stupid," she snarled, then collected herself and felt her expression relax. "Who would have a clue about what you're talking about, идиот,*" her insult was said sweetly, without malice. "We are not in Russia, after all."

*idiot

The empath spoke distractedly, concentrating instead on getting a clear read. The circumstantial emotions she was feeling were the loudest, like a trumpet, but underneath she could feel <unease/sadness/loss/confusion> like a drum beat. Still, whoever she was, she was oozing confidence, and hints of <curiosity> that were never present in those who were truly scared.

Anastasia would fix that for her most happily.

But it seemed the bitch was determined enough to shake off the hint of a push Anastasia was giving. Still, at Yulia's question she laughed softly, and arched her perfect eyebrows. "Oh, and he's racked up such a body count, hasn't he?" she sneered, mouth twisting. "What do you know, stupid girl? Ivan is safe here, and I will not let you spoil that."

She speaks like he's some sort of animal, needing to be caged.

But you catch more flies with honey then with vinegar. Despite the urge to twist her fingers in this woman's mind and twist, she instead send out <compassion/sorrow/empathy>. "Do you know what they did to him, your precious military?" she asked, softening her voice. "Do you know what they did to him after they caught the thirteen year old boy on the streets? Did you know about the cages? The drugs they gave him to make him into the monster you seem to think he is?" Her hands had clenched up so tightly her knuckles were bloodless, and long painted nails bit crescents into her palms.

[Yulia Sokolov]

Lia could not put her finger on this woman exactly. She spoke her language, but then slipped into the other without so much as a hitch in her voice. Also she stank of privilege to Lia, something that almost wanted to make her wrinkle her nose. Still it seemed the Lia had her finger on some sort of trigger, and she knew it was the name. Funny thing, that someone who clearly had so much could be so angered by it. Then again it did not exactly occur to Lia what that name threatened to take away from the woman in front of her. She did not hold the same sort of connections.

Yulia bored the insult with little enough expression, the words meant little to her when she was so focused on something else, in this case the someone right inside. Perhaps she didn’t know that the man who seemed to be a paramour was truly deadly, and in which case Lia could understand her resistance. However in a moment she discovered that this was not the case. That this woman knew very well what Lia was talking about.

It was only years in the military that kept the surprise off of Lia’s face, in fact the only motion she made was just a barely there twitch of one eyebrow. She knew, she knew what he had done and yet she sheltered him here? Lia’s expression shifted from serious to severe. “I do not care if Ivan is safe here,” she hissed back. “I care that he is here, and that no one else is safe because of it. Are you mad? Are you both crazy?”

Unaware as yet as she was of Eva’s ability, she did feel sorrow for a note when it came to Ivan’s previous condition. Oh she knew well what they had done to him, she knew well what happened to those who had no one to look out for them. Lia’s family had been distant and uninvolved while she was at school and in the military, but they had been alive, and that was the key. He was the worst outcome, he was what they all could have become.

“Yes, I know what they did. I know those pits.” Who was this woman to talk to her about it? What did she know. “I witnessed it, I saw what happened to men like him, women like him, children like him. That monster cannot be tempered, it cannot be controlled and some day it will come back out. Do you want to be the reason for that? He is a danger now, and no sympathies should make you overlook that.” Lia was practically spitting, quiet though she knew to keep her tone.

“He needs to be reported and brought in, he needs to be contained. You should step aside.”

[Anastasia van Drakke]

Nothing this woman was feeling suggested she would back down. Not without... stronger guidance. Still, Anastasia had to bite back a frown at the woman’s <surprise>. As if it was some grand secret kept from her, as if she could live with the man for years without knowing every inch of him, and loving him despite and for it. This chit’s <fury/resentment> meant as little to her as the opinion of a dust mote, or a pigeon.

”I am not the one shouting unfounded accusations on the street,” the empath hissed, her own fury growing. Anastasia van Drakke was not insane, and whoever dared voice such a filthy lie would have to be taught the error of their ways. ”He is not a wild beast, girl.,” despite the best efforts made by your military. What made her think he deserved any less then the humans that skulked around here, then the metas so brainwashed they let themselves be ground into the mud?

The unbalanced empath was growing increasingly wrathful as Yulia talked about the pits, as this woman, this stranger had the audacity to feel <indignation/anger>. ”Ivan shares everything with me,” Anastasia said icily. ”I know more about what it was like to be in those pits then you could possibly imagine, girl.”

Why was she wasting time talking? Every minute out here was another with Ivan inside, not knowing what was going on, or what was happening to her. Even as a part of her saw red at the idea of Ivan needing to be contained, the woman sent out enough <trust/calm> that when she reached out and grasped the woman's arm the sudden move wouldn’t trigger a regrettable reaction.

”Ivan is safe here,” she insisted, <listen/trustme>, ”There is nothing to worry about. He wont hurt anyone.”

It should stick. It should. But the military did things to peoples minds. She would know.

[Yulia Sokolov]

It started to slowly occur to Lia that this woman might not be all together in the head, at least in her opinion. Frankly Ivan was dangerous, at least according to what Lia knew to be true. The idea that he could have been rehabilitated in any sense and able to truly live and function in the normal civilian world was beyond her comprehension. In her world of the Russian Military, which she had suddenly been plunged back into, that did not happen. Or maybe Ivan was tricking this woman, was he inside her head? Lia could barely remember his ability, and therefore doubted this.

“They are not unfounded and you are well aware of this. That it becoming clear enough. Why would you bring someone so dangerous here? Why would you bring him near other metas?” This was unacceptable, completely unacceptable behavior on so many levels in Yulia’s opinion. Really she knew that she wasn’t being safe right now. But there is was, the old urge to protect bubbling back up in her, except she was thrown in a million directions right now, and procedure had gone out the window. “Not a beast but a danger none the less.” He had to need some sort of counseling at the least, if something like that would even work.

Then Lia’s mind shifted to a different thought. It was clear enough that arguing how safe he was or not was a moot point, but now there was something else Lia wanted to know. It ran across her mind, taking her full attention as the other woman continued to talk. To Lia her voice was reduced to an irritating buzz as this new concept gain precedence over it, and Lia shot a glare at her.

Then something she didn’t expect happen, the woman touched her. Yulia forced herself not to jerk away for the sake of hearing whatever mad reasoning might be presented to her now. However as she listened she started to realize that Ivan probably wouldn’t be a problem here in Vermont. He was safe here after all, right? There was no military, it should all be fine…

No

This was not right.

What was happening?

That one thought kept coming back to Lia. She frowned and pulled her arm from that woman’s grasp. ”But why is he here? You two could have literally gone anywhere where there were not metas, where no one would have recognized him but you didn’t. I want to know why.” Memories of MSAD floated in the back of her head, slowly coming to the surface as the other thoughts of safety and trust faded. How odd that they should spring up and go so quickly… wait a minute.

Lia’s eyes narrowed, she knew that had to be artificial, and that the woman, the bitch standing across from her, had to be a meta too. Well two could play at that game. Lia made pointed eye contact and started to press at her with the ability that she barely dared to use. Psionic blast, not enough to cause coma or death, but pain? Oh yes, pain.

“You will tell me why you are here, and you will do it now.”

[Anastasia van Drakke]

Anastasia realised Yulia had made some important connections roughly two seconds before the woman struck. She screamed, her hands clutching her head as her nerves were flayed and ripped open.

Oh, oh, she would pay for that. The pain passed in seconds/hours/years, and Eva reached out and grasped Yulia's hand, her eyes meeting and locking with Ivan's would be keeper. "You will leave us alone," she said softly, even as she drilled into the web of emotions under the soldier's skin. "You will not go near us, or anyone, again, will you?"

<dispair/hopelessless/giveup/toomuch/hedoesn'tloveyou/uselessness/fear/drowning>

Everything, every dark feeling, every single point of weakness hammered with a jewel cutter's precision to crack her open. Anastasia's own eyes welled up as she felt the wave herself, but it was enough. It was more than enough. "Go on," she murmured softly, warmly, "it will be easy. Just take a few steps back."

<despairanddie>

[Yulia Sokolov]

Why was this so satisfying? Why was it so comforting to be able to hurt someone like this? Maybe it wasn’t the causing of pain that was comforting but the fact and the idea that she did not have to listen to this woman yell or insult her anymore. Maybe it was the fact that she could stand here and she could use her ability to stand up for herself. It was the fact that she didn’t have to let this go. She felt almost triumphant, as if she was finally succeeding in eradicating at least one threat towards those she cared about. However this was short lived in the extreme, and at the back of her mind she knew that she was causing pain.

Lia let mercifully go, her eyes no longer boring in, the pain should have stopped. Then the woman made an unexpected move, she grasped Lia’s hand. Lia’s fingers curled around Eva’s for a moment, fearing that the woman needed some additional help or that she herself had gone too far. However it was proven to her in nearly an instant that this was not the case. She loosened her fingers and tried to pull her hand away.

Then it hit her, and it was more overwhelming and painful than anything else anyone had pushed on her in her lifetime. There was an overwhelming sense of misery, self loathing, and defeat. She felt that she was reliving every painful moment of her life, but amplified by ten. She could not handle it, she could not do it, she could not do this anymore.

An overwhelming wave of depression spilled over Lia. Suddenly the world was unbearable, and so was the thought of living in it. She was barely aware of where she was or who she was talking to, but she could hear the car speeding down the street behind her. What this woman was telling her was right, it would be so easy. She didn’t even look at first…

Lia took a step back, followed by another before she turned and walked towards the road. It sped closer, closer, closer, and then she took a step onto the road.

There was a thud as she connected with the hood of the car, the grill sweeping her feet out from under her. It was that sudden pain that brought her back to her senses, and Lia tried to roll. She managed it, but as she tried to minimize damage from the car the side view mirror caught her in the back. Lia was half flung to the side, landing half on the road and half on the curb, her head striking the latter. She was still for a few long minutes.

Then Lia moved, groaning in pain. The car was gone, wait, the car? Where was she and what was she doing here? She tried to get up and had to stop herself. Her back was killing her, as was one of her ankles. She did manage to sit up and reach down, feeling the ankle. It wasn’t broken, thank god, but she’d injured it. She took it slow, trying to stand up. Finally she managed, but she felt lightheaded. Also her forehead felt wet. She reached up and they came away red. She felt gingerly a little further north. There was a gash, oh god, she needed to get home and sew that up. Lia took a look around, trying to gage where she was. Ok, that she knew, but what was she doing here? Lia glanced up at the walls she was outside of. She had bigger issues to deal with, because bubbling up was the knowledge that she had just tried to kill herself, and she didn’t know why.

[Anastasia van Drakke]

It hurt, it always hurt, and Anastasia felt her cheeks grow damp as the waves of <can't/too much/giveup/despair> radiated through her. Yulia stepped back and Anastasia kept her arm outreached, concentrating even as she wiped at her own eyes furiously.

Almost there, the hum of the approaching car was dulled out by the roaring in her ears and when the finally impact came, the shock knocked her back against the wall.

Ivan had already started down the stairs when Yulia had used her power on Eva, the pain radiating down their link to push anger through him like waves. He caught her, running his hands over her to check she was all there, no blood, no wounds.

The bitch wasn't dead but it was enough. "We have to go inside," she whispered as she tugged his hand towards the gate. Ivan squeezed her hand in his, closing the gate behind them with a snap.

"She hurt you." he said softly, and Eva winced at the <fury/anger> under her fingers.

"I hurt her back," she replied, <calm/content> "inside. I would like a drink."

Ivan closed the door behind them firmly, then kissed her hard as he fisted his hand in her hair. Eva wrapped her arms around him and bit his earlobe with a smile. When Ivan insisted on bed first, she didn't try to argue.