Water of Life, Water of Memory
By Angel
Disclaimer: not mine obviously.
Notes: inspired by the lovely cemetery scene at the end of K-19: The Widowmaker when Alexei Vostrikov (Harrison Ford) and Mikhail Polenin (Liam Neeson) meet for the first time in 28 years.
Water of Life, Water of memory
They walked out of the cemetery together. Neither had planned it so, but it felt natural. A small café was in walking distance, and the men took a small window seat. The waitress brought tea and then vodka.
“To our men, Captain.”
“To our boat, Captain.”
Polenin snorted in his tea. “Misha, please. Are we not old enough friends for first names, Alexei?”
“To old friends.”
They drank the vodka.
“I am an old man, and it is many years since I had so much vodka in so short a time, Misha.”
“And I seldom drink at all these days.” He signaled the waitress for pastries and tea cakes.
“They were good boys, our crew.”
“You told me, a crew was a family and the captain was the father. I did not know how to be a father. Lena and I had no children.”
“But we, we had fifty sons between us, Alexei.”
“Aye, fifty. Seven dead mere days after we came home, and twenty died within a year. They were heros, Misha.”
“To heroes.”
“To our sons.” The waitress filled the vodka glasses again.
“We..are drunk, Alexei.” Misha gave the half-smile Alexei remembered.
“We are maudlin drunks, Misha, weeping for men dead more than a quarter century.” He pulled his wallet out and left rubles on the table. The bushy brows furrowed as Alexei stood up and caught the table to steady himself.
“Come, we shall go together. Let us get a car.” Misha stood and wrapped his arm around the shorter man, leaving payment his share of the bill.
The captains wove their way out to street and flagged a cab. Misha gave his address.
“It is closer. You can drink tea and sober up before braving the trains back to your flat.”
They made it up the stairs by sheer iron will. Misha took off his hat and coat and set to making tea. Alexei took off his coat and sat.
“Your hair is white.” Misha said from the kitchen.
“It all fell out from the radiation. When it returned, I was a greybeard grandfather.”
Misha sat down with the tea. “We were lucky. Had we known then what we know now of radiation, we would have all rolled over and died from despair.” He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.
“They loved you, and would have sailed through hell for you. They only feared me and obeyed.” Alexei stared into his cup.
“I trusted you. That was enough for them to sail through hell for you.”
“Bah. We are still drunk.”
“We are maudlin old drunks, and we have earned it.” Misha clinked his teacup against Alexei’s. “The night is dark, the snow blows cold, my friend. Why chill your old bones to go to an empty apartment? Stay. We shall drink tea and talk the night away. There is a couch with some lumps or you may have half the bed my Tanya no longer shares.”
“More tea, Misha. With vodka if you have any.” One of Alexei’s rare smiles quirked his mouth. “We shall do this properly. Not so tall as I remember.”
“Nor you so cold.”
They sipped the laced tea as night fell along with the snow.