[Ivan wasn't the only one thoroughly distressed by the unfolding events. Nikolas watched, from the vent, from the cameras, sometimes from within the room, and fretted. There had to be some reason that Ivan was doing all this. There had to be some bigger purpose behind the skulking, and the not bathing, and lack of seeming lucidity. Many a time he desperately wanted to just climb down into the room and try to comfort his brother, but he held himself back. The overwhelming majority of Russias seem to hate being watched obsessively, and he's afraid that if he reveals himself he'll be thrown out, and barred from returning.
So he does what he can, bringing food and water whenever the other is asleep, adjusting the temperature as best he can by boarding up some of the vents leading to this room, cleaning things mildly when Ivan goes on a destructive rampage. He doesn't really know how else to help, but he's trying.
This time Ivan's gotten himself hurt, and Belarus is practically jumping out of his skin with the want to jump down and patch him up. As soon as the other is breathing slowly, Belarus is squirming back through the vent, rushing to an infirmary and the kitchen, and hustling back to the room.
He's sets down the food and water where it is customary, and sets a bottle of hydrogen peroxide next to them. He crouches down, peering at Ivan's hurt hand quizzically. He wants to clean and bandage that now, but he's fearful of waking him up. He stares at the cuts some more, fidgeting. Finally, he decides that the small cuts provide no immediate danger to his brother's over all health, and he would much prefer to remain an anonymous benefactor. If Ivan found out and got mad and ejected him, boarded up the vent, blocked his door, and did whatever else to Nikki proof his room, who would bring him food, and water and make sure he stays at least slightly healthy?
Still, he can't bear to see so much going wrong in this situation. He checks quickly to make sure the other is still sound asleep, then rushes to a store room of HQ, returning with several large packages of bottled water. He moves slowly, minimizing the noise of the plastic packaging, and once he's done stacking them against a wall he looks back around the room, trying find something else he can do to help. There's not much else he can do however, besides bring some clean clothes and extra pillows, (left stacked neatly on the bed). It hurts him to let his brother do this to himself, but what else can he do?
Once again, he stays in the room, watching Ivan as he sleeps, for a long while, stewing in his own worry. When he does finally relocate back to the vent, he leaves the door open, trying to suggest that he should get out of this room. If Ivan wanders the halls he can just "run into him" purely by happenstance and then take care of his brother properly.]
... Why is 'dirrty' in the background helping me write this?broken_ovcharkaMarch 9 2011, 16:06:41 UTC
He slept for a few hours, his body moving between shivers and tremors and doubling over itself in some sort of pain the other didn't seem to be able to express audibly. He didn't wake however, letting his brother do what he felt needed to be done with time enough to press himself into the vents, the Russian starting to stir not long afterwards.
It took him a while to get his bearings, pulling himself from under the bed, moving to sit on it, noticing the clothes as he did so. He left them for now, swallowing down a balk of nausea before looking around the room, noting the water first, the bottle of peroxide beside it. The unknown bottle pulled him up from his bed, stretching and letting his joints pop as he moved to inspect it, reading the back to the best of his ability. It seemed to be for wounds, most likely for his hand.
They'd come through for him again, whatever they were.
He opened the bottle, the cap between his teeth as he held his hand out, his teeth clenching slightly, bracing for a pain... That did seem to come as he poured the liquid over his hand. It bubbled tenaciously, but as for pain there was little, if anything... Even if the peroxide apparently was having a great time in bubbling through his skin.
He put the bottle down, now noting the water on the side, the food as well as the bottle made an audible clunk on the dresser, taking the glass and looking at it, putting it to his lips to taste. When he finally deemed it safe, the rest of the liquid was put over his hand, the bubbling of the chemical slowly sliding from his hand, the Russian blandly checking the peroxide's progress.
His hand was cleaner, the dirt and dried blood having been eaten away, his wounds were now much more noticable. However, this was good, he could make sure they healed this way, the disheveled blonde putting his knuckle to his mouth to suck on it once more, letting his gaze once more grace the room around him.
It took him a while, but he finally noticed the door, now hanging open on the hinges, which did little but send him into something of a panic. He rose quickly from the bed, moving to the door itself and opening it, looking around the corridor- there seemed to be nobody outside it, which put him at an ill ease, closing the door and latching it shut, moving back to the bed as nausea licked at his throat and a migraine loomed over his head.
Had someone, a person, an actual person been in here? As he'd slept? Had they seen him? Had it been his brother? well technically...
He felt his stomach tighten, thankful now that he'd neglected eating as he made his way to the bathroom, bringing up bile and fluid to the best of his ability- he was surprised he hadn't brought up half of his digestive tract with his daily purging, but thankfully it was a pleasant one... He'd become quite an adamant fan of his insides being inside his body, where they were meant to be.
What the hell two comments?broken_ovcharkaMarch 9 2011, 16:07:48 UTC
However, the door had been open, and he didn't think he'd open it... There was only one person who knew he was detoxxing, but there were two he knew that had cameras... However one person ticked both boxes, and that filled him with dread.
Did his partner not trust him? Did he think the other wasn't doing as he'd promised?
He let his forehead rest against the toilet bowl, giving himself a few moments before he even attempted standing- he'd only just woken up, but already he felt exhausted, trying to put his thoughts of the open door and what it could mean from his head as he gripped the sides of the ceramic, pulling himself up and moving back towards his bed.
Perhaps... going out was an idea... He was starting to feel uncomfortable in just his boxers... It didn't feel appropriate for some reason.
He looked through the clothes that had been brought to him idly, unsure what to make of them, the clothes he came in bundled under the bed like a bad form of nesting material. They were nice enough clothes, but he would need to shower first. He hoped that keeping his hand away from the water would be enough not to warrant contamination.
He'd have to risk it, the urge to doze pulling at him from underneath the bed. He'd just slept, so it seemed wrong to go back to it... That and sleep was unpleasant enough once, the last thing he needed was his worries amalgamating with what already plagued his unrestful slumber.
He moved into the bathroom, peeling off his underwear before turning on the shower, his injured hand gripping the door and holding it open as he started the water, quickly turning the temperature all the way to cold as he felt it start to heat.
Heat wasn't good, it was never good. That was something he'd learnt years ago.
Because Freud was secretly right about everything? Also /vaults over the wall of text LIKE A BOSScrazyknifeboyMarch 10 2011, 04:03:50 UTC
[He smiles down into the room as the hydrogen peroxide is used, glad to see that his actions are helping. His grin widens hopefully as the other moves to the door, but then quickly evaporates as it's shut and locked hastily. This enforces his belief that he himself would be shut out were he to reveal himself, and it also makes him worry that Ivan plans this to be a permanent arrangement.
Had the suggestion that he leave really been that horrible? Why else would he react like that? He seemed scared, maybe someone in HQ has pressured him into this self imposed imprisonment. If that is the case, whoever is responsible will die if Belboy has anything to say about it. But for the moment he stops contemplating potential revenge, and focuses on the figure in the room once more.
He's vomiting again. This sends a deep pang of worry coursing through Belarus, hating having to watch you suffer like this day after day, but not being able to do much of anything to help. He'd looked for stomach medicines in a number of infirmaries, but HQ had been resolutely unhelpful in this regard, giving him nothing of use.
As Ivan heads into the shower, a flicker of hope crosses through Belarus's head. Hygiene is good! If his brother is finally willing to bathe himself that can only be a good sign, right? The lack of regular washing prior to this was distressing both because it suggested possible depression, and because it was simply unhealthy. Hopefully this was a turning point, and he wouldn't have to worry about Ivan succumbing some kind of fungal disease in future.
However, showering means something else as well. Where normally he would be overjoyed at the chance to see Ivan naked, right now it only made him feel guilt and sorrow for the other man. He could see the extent of the scaring and damage, and although it was far from disgusting him it made the urge to protect and comfort his brother even stronger.
The constant stream of worry and anxiety that he's had going for the last few weeks is starting to get to him, and he's not quite on the verge of a bit of a breakdown himself, but he'll hold himself together if Ivan still needs him, although he won't be able to help it if he simply collapses from exhaustion.
He's been keeping near constant vigil while Ivan is awake, and has been running errands, cooking, fetching, and occasionally fixing his cameras while Ivan sleeps, with barely any time to rest himself, although he has managed a fairly stable diet of a small helping of whatever he's making for the other. He's not going to keep this up indefinitely, which is another reason that he desperately hopes that you'll get better soon, even if he still is confused about the exact origin of your malady.
You did what the Dikdik does and the Dodo didn't.broken_ovcharkaMarch 10 2011, 15:21:17 UTC
Showering woke him up a little bit, running a hand through his hair. However, he did little but stand under the water, his injured hand still holding the door open as he let the water run over him, his free hand running through his hair softly as he did little but think on things.
If he knew it was his brother he'd feel uncomfortable, and Nikolas was most likely right in the assumption that he'd been driven away, Ivan wanting little to do with anyone at the moment. However, it did mean he'd have to go out and get himself food and water, especially now that his own had been 'contaminated'. He'd also be worried to see his brother behaving this way and the stress he was putting himself through. He didn't want people to see him this way, to feel they had to look after him- his brother, Nikolas, anyone...
He was starting to feel as if this whole thing was hopeless- the drugs had held off most of his aches and problems, made them easier to manage... But his partner wanted him off them, and it had been so long since he'd actually had something close to a loving relationship...
Sephiroth had been solely work orientated, there had been nothing between them. His own Belarus now would rather see his corpse than him in person and he and Ukraine had long been estranged. All others saw him as little more than something to vent their frustrations on, blame their problems on, or as a bargaining chip- it was amazing how many times America liked to 'relive' the Cold war in the way of increasingly violent sex games, and he was just one of them who wanted their pound of flesh...
He wasn't entirely sure he could go back to that- before he was little more than uncaring, which made the time go faster... drugs helped too in that aspect, but now, even with them he'd find it hard to return to it without struggle. The first time he and his sister had met in the HQ it had very quickly come to violence, however minor that violence was, and she was the closest to kin he had at home. He was unsure whether or not he was able to go back... even if he knew that one day he most likely would.
He realised his thinking had run away with him, turning off the shower and shaking most of the water from his hair and body. He didn't bother with a towel, pulling his clothes on his still somewhat damp body, moving back to the bathroom to towel dry his hair. Going outside may have been good for him- he had to write his brother a note anyway, asking him if he'd seen him, and he was having trouble focusing in the room at the moment.
He pulled the towel from his head, running his hand through his hair before moving to the door, unlocking it before moving to his bed, taking out a hooded jacket and putting it on as well. It made the outfit a little too warm, but it stopped people he didn't want to talk to noticing him as easily.
With little more than a fleeting look over his shoulder, he opened the door and walked through it, standing for a moment in thought before moving through the hallways in a bid to clear his head.
Paranoia pays off!crazyknifeboyMarch 11 2011, 07:17:10 UTC
[He's interested and curious as he sees Ivan begin to dress. Clothes hadn't been used since the first day practically, and certainly not a full outfit, when he gathers that the other is actually leaving the room a surge of happiness washes through him. His suggestion had worked! Belarus squirms back as quickly as he can without making much noise, and exits the vents at the nearest possible adjacent exit, straightening his clothes slightly, and flattening his hair, attempting to not look like he just crawled out of the ceiling.
Once he thinks he's succeeded, (he really hasn't), he heads in the direction he saw his brother leave the room. As soon as he sees the other from behind he calls out an breaks into a run.]
Brother! There you are!
[As soon as he gets to Ivan there will be the hug to end all hugs. But not really, because he's aware of how sick, thin and fragile Ivan is. But it will be a hug of devotion and love, if not bone crushing strength.
His eyes are wild, but not crazy, his expression and demeanor overflowing with relief.]
[He hadn't gotten that far from his door when the other shouted his name, doing little but hunching his shoulders in a way to seem inconspicuous and quickening his step, hoping that wasn't who he thought it was if it was that there was another him somewhere near by.
He feels the hug from behind, tensing tangibly and grudgingly turning around, looking down at the smaller man as he continued to cuddle. This was one of the reasons he hadn't wanted to come out in the first place- what if Nikolas followed him back? He didn't want that, he really didn't want that.
However, for now he was probably wanting some sort of verbal response, giving the other an awkward pat on the shoulder once he managed to move his arm from where the other had pinned it.]
[Snuggles galore. He doesn't seem to realize your discomfort with the situation, his selective...everything kicking in to protect his fragile ego. You are being comforted by his embrace and his mere presence, surely. That sudden quick walk was just you wanting to stretch your legs a bit more after having spent so long cooped up in that room.]
You have been rather absent lately. I was worried. Are you alright?
[He's not so good at being subtle, but he will attempt to nudge his brother into giving him some detail that will allow him to drag him to an infirmary and get him patched up as best he can. He's rather likely to accidentally reveal that he's been watching Ivan though, so he has to be careful.
Eventually he releases the other, keeping a grip on his arm, but no longer enveloping him, looking up at him with expectant eyes, waiting for an answer.]
:;: \o/ :;: ... that's meant to be confetti. broken_ovcharkaMarch 23 2011, 14:00:06 UTC
[Yes. That is exactly what is going on here. The tense feeling all over his body is... Joy. Complete and utter... Joy.
It takes alot of self control not to try and rip the smaller blonde off his body, removing him like some kind of leech, but he knew better than that from the last time his 'brother' had been this close- sure he'd been drunk at the time but he was sure the same sort of result would occur, just most likely with far less dry-humping.
He did his best to smile at the man clinging to him, but it was fake, obviously so, and did nothing to make him appear any better, his whole appearance dull and now just appearing to be somewhat in denial about that.]
Am just... Fine Nikolai... Now go away- I... I have things... Things to do.
[His sentence took far more effort than it should have leaving his lips, the large man pulling his hood a little heavier over his eyes. It was hot out here, almost sweltering, and he could feel himself start to sweat. He didn't think it was down to the layers he was wearing, removing none or rearranging how they sat on his person, his perspiration also half jolted to life by the other now being so close.
Perhaps...]
Did... Did my brother send you to... To find me?
[He knew you knew Ivan, and he knew that someone had been in his room. Perhaps it hadn't been Ivan... Perhaps it had been you coming in his stead.
He had to know and when he got back... he had to lock that door.]
@_@ It's beautiful.crazyknifeboyMarch 24 2011, 05:00:58 UTC
[Joy of the purest kind.
He said he was sorry about that! But yes, trying to get away would probably only worsen his clinging.
Despite his obliviousness, he can tell that not all is right. His brother is still in a bad way, and Nikolas will not rest until he's sure he's getting proper care. No if's and's or but's about it. All that shiftiness and sweating is really starting to worry him though. Ivan looks terrible, and all Nikolas wants to do is drag him to an infirmary.
The question about the other Ivan catches Nikolas by surprise, and there's complete genuine confusion in his eyes when he answers.]
What? No, I. He mentioned he hadn't seen you recently, but that was weeks ago. He doesn't know where you've been.
[Wait! Opportunity! As Ivan reaches to adjust his hood and other garments again, Nikolas snatches the wrist of his injured hand, a slightly forced shocked expression coming onto his face. It's filled with honest worry though, as is his voice.]
What happened to your hand? We need to get this patched up.
[Not giving his brother a chance to respond he starts urging him towards an infirmary.]
[The snatch spooked him, obviously, any response (that would have been cut off regardless) pushed to the back of his mind as he tried to move away. His brother's grip however was far more powerful than his his resistance, it would have been even if the other hadn't been crippling himself with an obscure, withdrawl-ridden cabin fever and he could do little but let the other man examine his hand.
Something wasn't quite right with the reaction, but what it was, he had no idea- his focus was far too hard to keep to come up with a reason, the Russian wanting little else than to pull away and shut himself up again. His brother's letter would have to make do.
He felt himself moving as he's urged forward, digging his heels into the floor, which in itself was a rather stupid thing to do. He'd forgotten to put shoes on, and all his effort to stop his brother dragging him did was hurt his feet, his retaliation fading from trying to dig his heels in to trying to pull his hand away, which turned out to be just as unsuccessful.]
Nikolas, get off me.
[It was half an order and half a desperate plead, the Russian feeling a wave of panic and a pang of nausea knot in his stomach.
However... he knew, whatever he tried at the moment, that the other country was stronger than him, and he didn't want the other to prove it, finally moving with the Belarusian rather than against him.
Once he let go, then he bolt, or at least attempt it- running wasn't his speciality.]
[Your struggles are just adding to his worry. For one his brother should be able to overpower him easily, and for another, he shouldn't be resisting! He's just trying to help. He wants to fix whatever's wrong with Ivan, to ease some of the pain and suffering the man is clearly going through.
For the most part he ignores any protests, but at the direct order he slows, but picks up speed again when the resistance abates.]
I'm just trying to help! You need to bandage this. And you clearly haven't been eating well. You look miserable. Let me take care of you!
[His voice is just as pleading and desperate, and perhaps he said too much. After all, the layers to a fair job of hiding the malnourishment. Ivan looks under the weather for certain, but not necessarily miserable.]
[Okay, while he understands that you are somewhat... over-loving on occasion, he doubts you'd be able to tell he'd lost a little weight is more than suspicious. It's not like he's starved, and while he was a little lightheaded more often than not, his lack of intake was far from obvious... After all, he was more than used to moving and behaving coherently enough through overly head dazes.
He pulled back again, putting his whole body into the movement. He was still no further out of the other man's hold, but he was now in a position where attempting to run was far easier.]
I said... Let Go.
[There's an edge to his voice, and he pulls again in his bid to get out of his brother's grip. He's pretty sure you're the one that's been in his room, and that is making him more anxious.]
How did you find me? I don't need help just... How did you...?
[He was already starting to feel a migraine coming on...]
[Ohhhhh crap. Nikolas stops dragging his brother when he's ordered to release him, but his hand doesn't loosen his grip. At the barrage of questions he looks nervous, shiftily refusing to meet the other's gaze.]
I...I was just around and I ran into you? Please just come with me.
[His voice is thin and pleading by this point. Why is Ivan making things so difficult? Why does he insist on denying help? He sees that his brother is looking troubled, and in pain, and a sound that's not quite a whimper or a whine leaks from him.]
At least let me get you some bandages and pain killers? Please. I hate seeing you hurt.
[The sheer desperation in his voice is probably enough to indicate that he's been forcing himself to watch you hurt for the last few weeks.]
If he thought he could get you off on his own strength he would have, but he was weak compared to other versions of himself and even more so due to his various ailments. He contemplated adding a dislocated shoulder to his list of problems, but he doubted pulling his arm out of socket would deter you... It would probably make you more determined to look after him.]
Why are you watching me Nikolas?
[His words are pointed and edged with something almost resembling spite, or at least anger- this whole detox was something he was going to do on his own... He didn't need you making it wors-]
Painkiller...?
[He struggled a little more against his brother's grip, but all it did was tear his hoodie a tad. He didn't want painkillers, there were just as bad as the opium. He was meant to be getting clean, and his brother was trying to dope him up again... And, hey, who knew, his brother could just be using this as another chance to get what he missed out on last time the other was completely shot up on (however HQ induced) horse.]
You would like that... wouldn't you?
[Paranoia + Belboy = Captain Rapist of the HMS Sodomy THE LOGIC IT IS INFALLIABLE]
[He looks away from you. Dammit, this is what he had been trying to avoid. His grip loosens, even to the point where it could probably be broken by a sharp tug.]
You were sick, or something. I just wanted to help, but then you weren't bathing, or drinking water, or eating anything unless I brought it.
[He doesn't realize any of the implications of what he said, or what the other is thinking, although he would be hurt if he knew what was going on through his brother's head. He thought they'd worked all that out, and that there were no hard feeling or suspicion between them anymore. He completely trusted you after all. Although he's a naive idiot, so it doesn't really count.]
...Yes. I don't like seeing you suffer like this. You're hurting, and I want to help alleviate it somehow.
So he does what he can, bringing food and water whenever the other is asleep, adjusting the temperature as best he can by boarding up some of the vents leading to this room, cleaning things mildly when Ivan goes on a destructive rampage. He doesn't really know how else to help, but he's trying.
This time Ivan's gotten himself hurt, and Belarus is practically jumping out of his skin with the want to jump down and patch him up. As soon as the other is breathing slowly, Belarus is squirming back through the vent, rushing to an infirmary and the kitchen, and hustling back to the room.
He's sets down the food and water where it is customary, and sets a bottle of hydrogen peroxide next to them. He crouches down, peering at Ivan's hurt hand quizzically. He wants to clean and bandage that now, but he's fearful of waking him up. He stares at the cuts some more, fidgeting. Finally, he decides that the small cuts provide no immediate danger to his brother's over all health, and he would much prefer to remain an anonymous benefactor. If Ivan found out and got mad and ejected him, boarded up the vent, blocked his door, and did whatever else to Nikki proof his room, who would bring him food, and water and make sure he stays at least slightly healthy?
Still, he can't bear to see so much going wrong in this situation. He checks quickly to make sure the other is still sound asleep, then rushes to a store room of HQ, returning with several large packages of bottled water. He moves slowly, minimizing the noise of the plastic packaging, and once he's done stacking them against a wall he looks back around the room, trying find something else he can do to help. There's not much else he can do however, besides bring some clean clothes and extra pillows, (left stacked neatly on the bed). It hurts him to let his brother do this to himself, but what else can he do?
Once again, he stays in the room, watching Ivan as he sleeps, for a long while, stewing in his own worry. When he does finally relocate back to the vent, he leaves the door open, trying to suggest that he should get out of this room. If Ivan wanders the halls he can just "run into him" purely by happenstance and then take care of his brother properly.]
Reply
It took him a while to get his bearings, pulling himself from under the bed, moving to sit on it, noticing the clothes as he did so. He left them for now, swallowing down a balk of nausea before looking around the room, noting the water first, the bottle of peroxide beside it. The unknown bottle pulled him up from his bed, stretching and letting his joints pop as he moved to inspect it, reading the back to the best of his ability. It seemed to be for wounds, most likely for his hand.
They'd come through for him again, whatever they were.
He opened the bottle, the cap between his teeth as he held his hand out, his teeth clenching slightly, bracing for a pain... That did seem to come as he poured the liquid over his hand. It bubbled tenaciously, but as for pain there was little, if anything... Even if the peroxide apparently was having a great time in bubbling through his skin.
He put the bottle down, now noting the water on the side, the food as well as the bottle made an audible clunk on the dresser, taking the glass and looking at it, putting it to his lips to taste. When he finally deemed it safe, the rest of the liquid was put over his hand, the bubbling of the chemical slowly sliding from his hand, the Russian blandly checking the peroxide's progress.
His hand was cleaner, the dirt and dried blood having been eaten away, his wounds were now much more noticable. However, this was good, he could make sure they healed this way, the disheveled blonde putting his knuckle to his mouth to suck on it once more, letting his gaze once more grace the room around him.
It took him a while, but he finally noticed the door, now hanging open on the hinges, which did little but send him into something of a panic. He rose quickly from the bed, moving to the door itself and opening it, looking around the corridor- there seemed to be nobody outside it, which put him at an ill ease, closing the door and latching it shut, moving back to the bed as nausea licked at his throat and a migraine loomed over his head.
Had someone, a person, an actual person been in here? As he'd slept? Had they seen him? Had it been his brother? well technically...
He felt his stomach tighten, thankful now that he'd neglected eating as he made his way to the bathroom, bringing up bile and fluid to the best of his ability- he was surprised he hadn't brought up half of his digestive tract with his daily purging, but thankfully it was a pleasant one... He'd become quite an adamant fan of his insides being inside his body, where they were meant to be.
Reply
Did his partner not trust him? Did he think the other wasn't doing as he'd promised?
He let his forehead rest against the toilet bowl, giving himself a few moments before he even attempted standing- he'd only just woken up, but already he felt exhausted, trying to put his thoughts of the open door and what it could mean from his head as he gripped the sides of the ceramic, pulling himself up and moving back towards his bed.
Perhaps... going out was an idea... He was starting to feel uncomfortable in just his boxers... It didn't feel appropriate for some reason.
He looked through the clothes that had been brought to him idly, unsure what to make of them, the clothes he came in bundled under the bed like a bad form of nesting material. They were nice enough clothes, but he would need to shower first. He hoped that keeping his hand away from the water would be enough not to warrant contamination.
He'd have to risk it, the urge to doze pulling at him from underneath the bed. He'd just slept, so it seemed wrong to go back to it... That and sleep was unpleasant enough once, the last thing he needed was his worries amalgamating with what already plagued his unrestful slumber.
He moved into the bathroom, peeling off his underwear before turning on the shower, his injured hand gripping the door and holding it open as he started the water, quickly turning the temperature all the way to cold as he felt it start to heat.
Heat wasn't good, it was never good. That was something he'd learnt years ago.
Reply
Had the suggestion that he leave really been that horrible? Why else would he react like that? He seemed scared, maybe someone in HQ has pressured him into this self imposed imprisonment. If that is the case, whoever is responsible will die if Belboy has anything to say about it. But for the moment he stops contemplating potential revenge, and focuses on the figure in the room once more.
He's vomiting again. This sends a deep pang of worry coursing through Belarus, hating having to watch you suffer like this day after day, but not being able to do much of anything to help. He'd looked for stomach medicines in a number of infirmaries, but HQ had been resolutely unhelpful in this regard, giving him nothing of use.
As Ivan heads into the shower, a flicker of hope crosses through Belarus's head. Hygiene is good! If his brother is finally willing to bathe himself that can only be a good sign, right? The lack of regular washing prior to this was distressing both because it suggested possible depression, and because it was simply unhealthy. Hopefully this was a turning point, and he wouldn't have to worry about Ivan succumbing some kind of fungal disease in future.
However, showering means something else as well. Where normally he would be overjoyed at the chance to see Ivan naked, right now it only made him feel guilt and sorrow for the other man. He could see the extent of the scaring and damage, and although it was far from disgusting him it made the urge to protect and comfort his brother even stronger.
The constant stream of worry and anxiety that he's had going for the last few weeks is starting to get to him, and he's not quite on the verge of a bit of a breakdown himself, but he'll hold himself together if Ivan still needs him, although he won't be able to help it if he simply collapses from exhaustion.
He's been keeping near constant vigil while Ivan is awake, and has been running errands, cooking, fetching, and occasionally fixing his cameras while Ivan sleeps, with barely any time to rest himself, although he has managed a fairly stable diet of a small helping of whatever he's making for the other. He's not going to keep this up indefinitely, which is another reason that he desperately hopes that you'll get better soon, even if he still is confused about the exact origin of your malady.
Reply
If he knew it was his brother he'd feel uncomfortable, and Nikolas was most likely right in the assumption that he'd been driven away, Ivan wanting little to do with anyone at the moment. However, it did mean he'd have to go out and get himself food and water, especially now that his own had been 'contaminated'. He'd also be worried to see his brother behaving this way and the stress he was putting himself through. He didn't want people to see him this way, to feel they had to look after him- his brother, Nikolas, anyone...
He was starting to feel as if this whole thing was hopeless- the drugs had held off most of his aches and problems, made them easier to manage... But his partner wanted him off them, and it had been so long since he'd actually had something close to a loving relationship...
Sephiroth had been solely work orientated, there had been nothing between them. His own Belarus now would rather see his corpse than him in person and he and Ukraine had long been estranged. All others saw him as little more than something to vent their frustrations on, blame their problems on, or as a bargaining chip- it was amazing how many times America liked to 'relive' the Cold war in the way of increasingly violent sex games, and he was just one of them who wanted their pound of flesh...
He wasn't entirely sure he could go back to that- before he was little more than uncaring, which made the time go faster... drugs helped too in that aspect, but now, even with them he'd find it hard to return to it without struggle. The first time he and his sister had met in the HQ it had very quickly come to violence, however minor that violence was, and she was the closest to kin he had at home. He was unsure whether or not he was able to go back... even if he knew that one day he most likely would.
He realised his thinking had run away with him, turning off the shower and shaking most of the water from his hair and body. He didn't bother with a towel, pulling his clothes on his still somewhat damp body, moving back to the bathroom to towel dry his hair. Going outside may have been good for him- he had to write his brother a note anyway, asking him if he'd seen him, and he was having trouble focusing in the room at the moment.
He pulled the towel from his head, running his hand through his hair before moving to the door, unlocking it before moving to his bed, taking out a hooded jacket and putting it on as well. It made the outfit a little too warm, but it stopped people he didn't want to talk to noticing him as easily.
With little more than a fleeting look over his shoulder, he opened the door and walked through it, standing for a moment in thought before moving through the hallways in a bid to clear his head.
Reply
Once he thinks he's succeeded, (he really hasn't), he heads in the direction he saw his brother leave the room. As soon as he sees the other from behind he calls out an breaks into a run.]
Brother! There you are!
[As soon as he gets to Ivan there will be the hug to end all hugs. But not really, because he's aware of how sick, thin and fragile Ivan is. But it will be a hug of devotion and love, if not bone crushing strength.
His eyes are wild, but not crazy, his expression and demeanor overflowing with relief.]
Reply
He feels the hug from behind, tensing tangibly and grudgingly turning around, looking down at the smaller man as he continued to cuddle. This was one of the reasons he hadn't wanted to come out in the first place- what if Nikolas followed him back? He didn't want that, he really didn't want that.
However, for now he was probably wanting some sort of verbal response, giving the other an awkward pat on the shoulder once he managed to move his arm from where the other had pinned it.]
... Привет Николай
Reply
You have been rather absent lately. I was worried. Are you alright?
[He's not so good at being subtle, but he will attempt to nudge his brother into giving him some detail that will allow him to drag him to an infirmary and get him patched up as best he can. He's rather likely to accidentally reveal that he's been watching Ivan though, so he has to be careful.
Eventually he releases the other, keeping a grip on his arm, but no longer enveloping him, looking up at him with expectant eyes, waiting for an answer.]
Reply
It takes alot of self control not to try and rip the smaller blonde off his body, removing him like some kind of leech, but he knew better than that from the last time his 'brother' had been this close- sure he'd been drunk at the time but he was sure the same sort of result would occur, just most likely with far less dry-humping.
He did his best to smile at the man clinging to him, but it was fake, obviously so, and did nothing to make him appear any better, his whole appearance dull and now just appearing to be somewhat in denial about that.]
Am just... Fine Nikolai... Now go away- I... I have things... Things to do.
[His sentence took far more effort than it should have leaving his lips, the large man pulling his hood a little heavier over his eyes. It was hot out here, almost sweltering, and he could feel himself start to sweat. He didn't think it was down to the layers he was wearing, removing none or rearranging how they sat on his person, his perspiration also half jolted to life by the other now being so close.
Perhaps...]
Did... Did my brother send you to... To find me?
[He knew you knew Ivan, and he knew that someone had been in his room. Perhaps it hadn't been Ivan... Perhaps it had been you coming in his stead.
He had to know and when he got back... he had to lock that door.]
Reply
He said he was sorry about that! But yes, trying to get away would probably only worsen his clinging.
Despite his obliviousness, he can tell that not all is right. His brother is still in a bad way, and Nikolas will not rest until he's sure he's getting proper care. No if's and's or but's about it. All that shiftiness and sweating is really starting to worry him though. Ivan looks terrible, and all Nikolas wants to do is drag him to an infirmary.
The question about the other Ivan catches Nikolas by surprise, and there's complete genuine confusion in his eyes when he answers.]
What? No, I. He mentioned he hadn't seen you recently, but that was weeks ago. He doesn't know where you've been.
[Wait! Opportunity! As Ivan reaches to adjust his hood and other garments again, Nikolas snatches the wrist of his injured hand, a slightly forced shocked expression coming onto his face. It's filled with honest worry though, as is his voice.]
What happened to your hand? We need to get this patched up.
[Not giving his brother a chance to respond he starts urging him towards an infirmary.]
Reply
Something wasn't quite right with the reaction, but what it was, he had no idea- his focus was far too hard to keep to come up with a reason, the Russian wanting little else than to pull away and shut himself up again. His brother's letter would have to make do.
He felt himself moving as he's urged forward, digging his heels into the floor, which in itself was a rather stupid thing to do. He'd forgotten to put shoes on, and all his effort to stop his brother dragging him did was hurt his feet, his retaliation fading from trying to dig his heels in to trying to pull his hand away, which turned out to be just as unsuccessful.]
Nikolas, get off me.
[It was half an order and half a desperate plead, the Russian feeling a wave of panic and a pang of nausea knot in his stomach.
However... he knew, whatever he tried at the moment, that the other country was stronger than him, and he didn't want the other to prove it, finally moving with the Belarusian rather than against him.
Once he let go, then he bolt, or at least attempt it- running wasn't his speciality.]
Reply
For the most part he ignores any protests, but at the direct order he slows, but picks up speed again when the resistance abates.]
I'm just trying to help! You need to bandage this. And you clearly haven't been eating well. You look miserable. Let me take care of you!
[His voice is just as pleading and desperate, and perhaps he said too much. After all, the layers to a fair job of hiding the malnourishment. Ivan looks under the weather for certain, but not necessarily miserable.]
Reply
He pulled back again, putting his whole body into the movement. He was still no further out of the other man's hold, but he was now in a position where attempting to run was far easier.]
I said... Let Go.
[There's an edge to his voice, and he pulls again in his bid to get out of his brother's grip. He's pretty sure you're the one that's been in his room, and that is making him more anxious.]
How did you find me? I don't need help just... How did you...?
[He was already starting to feel a migraine coming on...]
Reply
I...I was just around and I ran into you? Please just come with me.
[His voice is thin and pleading by this point. Why is Ivan making things so difficult? Why does he insist on denying help? He sees that his brother is looking troubled, and in pain, and a sound that's not quite a whimper or a whine leaks from him.]
At least let me get you some bandages and pain killers? Please. I hate seeing you hurt.
[The sheer desperation in his voice is probably enough to indicate that he's been forcing himself to watch you hurt for the last few weeks.]
Reply
If he thought he could get you off on his own strength he would have, but he was weak compared to other versions of himself and even more so due to his various ailments. He contemplated adding a dislocated shoulder to his list of problems, but he doubted pulling his arm out of socket would deter you... It would probably make you more determined to look after him.]
Why are you watching me Nikolas?
[His words are pointed and edged with something almost resembling spite, or at least anger- this whole detox was something he was going to do on his own... He didn't need you making it wors-]
Painkiller...?
[He struggled a little more against his brother's grip, but all it did was tear his hoodie a tad. He didn't want painkillers, there were just as bad as the opium. He was meant to be getting clean, and his brother was trying to dope him up again... And, hey, who knew, his brother could just be using this as another chance to get what he missed out on last time the other was completely shot up on (however HQ induced) horse.]
You would like that... wouldn't you?
[Paranoia + Belboy = Captain Rapist of the HMS Sodomy THE LOGIC IT IS INFALLIABLE]
Reply
You were sick, or something. I just wanted to help, but then you weren't bathing, or drinking water, or eating anything unless I brought it.
[He doesn't realize any of the implications of what he said, or what the other is thinking, although he would be hurt if he knew what was going on through his brother's head. He thought they'd worked all that out, and that there were no hard feeling or suspicion between them anymore. He completely trusted you after all. Although he's a naive idiot, so it doesn't really count.]
...Yes. I don't like seeing you suffer like this. You're hurting, and I want to help alleviate it somehow.
[Best nickname ever.]
Reply
Leave a comment