MARCH UPDATE

POSTED ON Oct 23, 2018 11:47:42 GMT

"what do you mean it's destroyed?"

his words are rough and fierce, stomping through the air as he voices his frustrations. the news hits him harder than it should've and he's not so sure why it does: it's not his city but it's what he was assigned to protect. to hear that he failed is a blow to his ego because he never fails.

exploded. destroyed. nothing else remains but rubble and dirt. and his legacy as protector of the city. he wasn't there to protect his post but what could he have changed. from what they tell him, the attack happened in an instant. if he had been in the gym he most likely would have died in the explosion, so in a way, he's lucky to not have been there.

that fact doesn't do much to appease the guilt that eats away at him.

wrapped in ridiculous hospital attire, he finds himself confined to the small room of the hospital of the pokemon league with nothing to do but to recover; from what, he's still not too sure.

a knock comes from the door, snapping him right up on the bed. he doesn't bother speaking because he knows he can't change the inevitable: the door will still open.

thalia: a face that usually subdues his insecurities does the exact opposite today. he can't control it—"why are you here?" he can't catch his tongue until the words leave his mouth but by the end of it he diverts his eyes away. guilt isn't new to him.

"sorry."

taking a deep breath, he wills himself to look at her. something's changed and he's not so sure what. "did anyone get hurt?" he asks, referencing the attack on his gym.

thalia black

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POSTED ON Oct 24, 2018 12:45:47 GMT

NIKOLAI PETROV likes this

her nightmares only intensify after she opens her eyes.

the commotion is an unavoidable headline that greets her with the sun. before she has time to think, her schedule is clear and she's moving.

their relationship is complicated. she's intruding and she knows it, but she needs to see him. she needs to see him with her own two eyes, pass her own judgments in the flesh. thalia hesitates outside his room for not seconds but minutes before she finally works up the nerve to knock.

immediately, his biting words take her off guard. pupils shrink, shoulders tense upwards. her hand is still on the doorknob. it would be too easy for her to apologize and take her leave, but again, he beats her to the punch.

she is not unused to pitying him, but this feels different. her powerlessness chokes her.

"you have nothing to be sorry for." the words are quick and honest, as though urgent. this is not about her feelings. her stunning emotions only highlight the importance of the situation at hand; she will not let them become a distraction. he is the one who has suffered a loss. she will not be his problem.

"no— everyone is unharmed." there are so many confusing elements to this situation, but she can reassure him with what she does know. she can reassure him the same way he has already reassured her. she has already gotten what she needs: he's battered, worse for wear, but a glance confirms he'll come out the other side. she wants more time — wants nothing more than to touch him, solidify him in her reality — but this could hold her over. "would it be better if i came back later?"

NIKOLAI PETROV

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POSTED ON Oct 25, 2018 9:41:04 GMT

relief overcomes him at her words and it feels like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. a man can only bear so much guilt until it breaks him; nikolai has carried his for far too long. it's a wonder he hasn't broken more than he already has. perhaps a part of him still remains fighting, unwilling to give in.

her words make him look up—"no, stay." again, abruptness gets the better of him as he's unable to control his emotions. he's not too sure why. he takes a deep breath and tries to calms himself, though the harsh beating in his chest reminds him it's difficult.

"please stay, thalia."

her name brings back careful memories, ones that he has no qualms reminiscing about. he gestures to the chair by the bed, asking for her to sit. he speaks only when the door closes behind her.

"i don't remember the incident." he cuts to the point because he knows why she's here. she's always been too curious for her own good. "i remember pieces; little flashes of memories; but not the whole thing." it's frustrating; his face portrays it well.

"why is that?"

thalia black

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POSTED ON Oct 25, 2018 13:54:13 GMT

NIKOLAI PETROV likes this

she is too weak to even the illusion of being wanted, being needed. his voice, his words, that name from his mouth leashes her to him like a binary star. when he prompts her, there is no hesitation in her movement, save for an eager nod. she is too selfish to deny him.

the thought that the abrupt explanation that follows might be for her is one that never crosses her mind. in her eyes, she lets him vent. the tragedy is fresh, raw; it can only be assumed that he's been ruminating.

"i'm sorry," she begins. the words are not offered in apology, but rather said as one might console a loved one at a funeral. "i can't imagine how you're feeling right now. i can't imagine..."

misunderstanding brings about further misunderstanding. the woman is too literal.

"sometimes, when things are too much, we block them out." the simple answer, the logical one, stemming from that which lies at face value. if the mental and emotional trauma he has sustained is even a fraction of the physical, it would make sense. despite her best efforts, for just a moment, her thoughts drag her back to the desert ruins.

"the memories may come back in time, but the investigative team is working hard... if you can, try to focus on healing first." she knows he won't hear her. in his position, she knows she wouldn't listen, either. this knowledge doesn't stop her from wasting her breath. "it may be for the better right nowー that you don't remember. it's all over the news. it's all over the news, and it'sー"

the aerial views of what remains of the structure stick in the back of her mind. she hopes he hasn't seen them. hesitation and desperation meet in her touch: one hand on his own and the other on his shoulder, feather-light for fear of causing him pain.

"is this okay? i'm glad you're okay. i'm so glad you're okay."

NIKOLAI PETROV

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POSTED ON Nov 3, 2018 16:26:26 GMT

the logical answer is a simple one and it's one that makes the most sense. but he knows himself; he knows that he doesn't simply block things out. he never did. he drowns them in a myriad of distractions, not all of which are good for him.

"but i want to remember."

her words ring in his head: it's all over the news. it's hard not to have seen pictures or videos of the destruction and it's even harder to see the aftermath; there's nothing left of the gym but dust and rubble. sootopolis lost a landmark and more importantly, it lost its leader.

he'll make sure they won't ever again.

there's hesitation in her touch but he tries to ease them as he leans into it. "it's okay, yeah." he offers her a smile as he feels her hand on his. "i'm glad, too." he pauses for a moment. "i'm okay."

he's never been one to shy away from company, especially during times of distress. but this is different; it has to be. she's not a stranger he beds for the night and forgets. no. they've been through more that she deserves better.

he takes a deep breath.

"i'm scared, thalia. i've always been scared but not like this: this is different. i don't just…not remember. there's something wrong but i don't know what it is. i can't remember what it is."

he hasn't realized how he had taken her hand in his.

"i'm scared i never will."

thalia black

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POSTED ON Nov 5, 2018 4:27:24 GMT

the woman is too empathetic for her own good. his fear is evident before the admission ever escapes his lips. the entire situation is saturated with pain, confusion, chaos ー an act of terror. nothing else could describe it.

her powerlessness stares her in the face once more. in the past, she's been able to help (if only in her own fumbling way), but this is something else entirely. this doesn't stop her from acting in the way that she knows: as soon as he responds to her touch she's squeezing his hand ever tighter, moving the other to his face, resisting the urge to draw him to her chest. there is so much importance in just holding someone, but that privilege is one that the hospital and its machinery currently deny them.

"i know. i'm so sorry." her words come out like a whisper, a sigh, burdened with emotion that isn't hers to claim. even compassion is selfish in its own right. she lacks awareness of her own pathetic expression.

"i want to help you but i don't know how? i wishー" she bites her tongue early, brow knitting together. he's the last person she should be complaining to about anything right now, least of all his own situation... for the purpose of their interaction, she would make herself useful in whatever way she could.

that included a few moments of silence. the hand that only moments earlier found its place on his face and through his hair is withdrawn just as quickly, meeting her other to clasp his own. her thumb fidgets, worrying across the back of his knuckles. several seconds pass while she finds herself: first, her composure; then, her words.

"there will be evidence. it hasn't even been a day yet... it's too early to be too discouraged, but even if your memories don't come back right away, that doesn't mean you won't have closure..." she hasn't yet entirely accepted that there's something truly wrong, at least not in the way that he thinks. in the back of her mind, other possibilities run on another channel: post-traumatic stress, heart trouble, pulmonary embolism, certain types of seizures, exposure to certain toxins, can all cause a sense of impending doom, a sense of desperate uncertainty...

"what do you remember?"

all of his monitors seem to read fine. she's no doctor, after all. no matter the cause, no matter her own concerns, she'll hear him. sometimes it helps to just... talk.

NIKOLAI PETROV

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POSTED ON Nov 7, 2018 18:49:57 GMT

she doesn't know how to help him and that's okay because he doesn't expect her to. he's not her responsibility and he doesn't intend to be; but she makes him feel like he is when she touches him: his hand, his face, his hair, though he doesn't stop her because he knows he needs this, even if it's only for today.

"i don't know how either."

she asks a question, hoping to spark more memories. he breathes, readying himself to tell her the few he remembers.

"blue hair, spiky. blue eyes. sinister smile." he pauses to try to remember more. "he confronted me about my past, about rocket." his voice trails off near the end, dropping despite them being alone. "i remember trying to kill him; fuck, i almost killed him."

there it is: a crack, and from it, tears. they're subtle but they're there, lingering in his eyes despite his blinks. his voice almost cracks but he holds strong, bracing himself for the tremble in his heart. "i wanted to kill him, thalia. i don't know why but i wanted to. i almost did."

thalia black

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POSTED ON Nov 10, 2018 0:33:33 GMT

she cannot fathom a worse answer. a mere mention of the man changes her. the color drains from her face. the air abandons the room.

why did it have to be him?
why does it always have to be him?
everything always comes back to...

"fernando?" she still clutches his hand in her own, but she trembles now. all pretense of composure is held together by little more than a thread. every word from his mouth is a paralytic. "fernando silph?"

the woman feels cold. the urge exists to excuse herself ー she has a phone call to make ー but she can't. she needs to know more. selfish panic eclipses her until there is no room left for consideration. her tone begs him to correct her, tell her it's someone else who fits the narrow description, but she knows the universe would never allow that. not for her. not for either of them.

she wants to call him a liar. she wants to scream. she wants to declare at the top of her lungs that the man in question could never be made so helpless. she has no idea how close she is to the truth.

"nikolai? what do you mean?"

NIKOLAI PETROV

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NIKOLAI

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i used to dream in the dark of palisades park.

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