bratva

As his head fell Naomi’s brows furrowed in slight confusion, was he not happy to see her? Sure he was in a hospital and was here to have stitches removed but no sign of even the small smile that upturned his lips and made her feel like she’d accomplished something grand. The tone of surprise in his tone almost made her laugh, then she did a little, “Yea…” she trailed searching his eyes once they were on her. “You said you were headed to the funhouse and then next thing I hear is that it was on fire.” she stops there, not sure he’d appreciate hearing that she’d filtered through patient names in an effort to find his and the relief the absence of had brought. “I did,” she replies turning around to the cabinets to get some supplies and starts laying them out on the tray. She wasn’t sure why she felt a bit foolish all of a sudden, she’d made a confession of the sort before and she recalls he had too. Naomi shakes her head trying not to read too much into it and focuses on the fact that he is here before her and for the most part okay. “I’ll admit the place is not half as bad as I thought. I tried one of the drinks…something pineapple. It was good.” she conceded remembering how much she’d teased hearing that it was a favourite place of his. She settled into the seat across him, “You don’t have to apologize!” she insisted looking at him with a softer gaze before chuckling at his attempt of a joke, “I kinda get it, not the being caught in a burning funhouse part but the hermit part.” Hadn’t she hidden away in the same manner after she’d been shot. “Yes, I know about stitches but not where. I’ll be gentle of course.” She gave Peter an expectant look now waiting for him to show her the stitches. “I’ve been good work keeps me busy spending a questionable amount of time binging shows.” she admitted putting gloves on her hands. “And you? Highlights of the hermit lifestyle?”

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He knew what she was getting at, she’d been worried and the least he could do was let her know he was alright. But he hadn’t been, would she have wanted to know that? “Yeah, uh. It’s been a bizarre couple of weeks.” Peter knew he should tell Naomi. He knew he needed to be upfront and honest but how was he supposed to tell her that he regretted the kiss when he, in fact, didn’t. How was he supposed to tell her that he had been avoiding her on purpose when only a while ago he’d been going out of his way to frequent her usual spots in hopes of running into her? It’d be easier if they had never met, if he’d never felt her magnetism or wanted to hear more of her cute banter. He was just a boy when he learned to let go of the things he wanted in order to pursue his familiar duties, but this... this was more difficult than he imagined. He’d thought a lot about contacting her now that he had her full name. All he needed to do was say that he was busy or make up some other kind of bullshit to let her down easy, except that he didn’t want to. Realistically, what they had been building over the course of several months shouldn’t have been as binding as it felt. Even now he was avoiding her eyes because something about the way she looked at him made him want more. His mind was set though, and he knew his heart would eventually follow suit. He wondered if she thought about him as much as he thought about her during this time. Peter even considered taking up a vice because maybe then he could burn his throat with cigarette smoke and take away the fancy he felt to utter her name under his breath. ‘I’m glad you like it.” He stopped going to Nektar in case he spotted her there, and that made him feel some kind of guilty. Peter nodded and pulled on the neck of his shirt to slip it off and show her where the stitched were around the skin grafts. He dropped his chin again and chuckled at how she described passing the time. This would be it. Just this one time and he’d be done seeing her. “Unfortunately, I couldn’t take too much time off of work so been busy with that.” At least that much was true. Peter steadied himself for her to begin and only tensed when he felt the first pull. “Honestly, I don’t remember much about that night.” He started, hoping she would catch on even though it was a lie. “I remember heading there and walking to the funhouse but everything else is a blur until I woke to... Yeah, it’s been bizarre, like I said.” He cut himself off because the truth felt sadder than the lie that time. He’d woken up to no one. 

Her head turned to look over her shoulder as she stepped across the threshold. “No surprises, huh?” At least on their part. Skylar was never good at letting her guard down after what had happened on Halloween. Being arrested and questioned the way she had been left her feeling a little weary of everything. She nodded her head as she stepped off the step and towards the car. “It would be nice to have a interruption free night.” She mused as she had gotten into the car and put on her seat belt, reaching over to take the hand closest to her. She wasn’t exactly sure why she had been so affectionate but maybe it’s because she wanted to prove she could be. The two of them could have a normal life relationship despite what everyone else thought and Peter did have a way of making her feel safe, heard and seen the last few months so it wasn’t hard to expression all of that gratitude physically.

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“Let me be the one with the guard up, alright?” He glanced at her as they came to a red light and let her took take his hand, sliding her fingers into his before bringing it up to his lips. He pressed a soft kiss against the back of her hand and shifted his eyes back to the road after a second. “Just enjoy yourself, that’s your only job tonight.” There weren’t only a few people who knew this side of Peter, sometimes it even felt strange to himself. Brooke being the first, the brunette was his first everything and he still thought the world of her. Naomi Jones, who he regularly had to push out of his mind because whatever was happening now made more sense than someone he didn’t even know if he could trust. And even if he could, Peter knew that this lifestyle shouldn’t have to burden someone like her. And then Skylar, of course. “I agree.” He dropped the topic with that and he wanted to ask about her brother but didn’t want to bring the mood down. “Here,” Peter let go of her hand and touched something on the dashboard. “Connect your phone and okay something, I think we both need to relax right now.” He chuckled. There was nothing to worry about and he was more than capable of protecting her tonight, of keeping up with his duties too. “Ah… Chicago traffic.” He said as he slowed at a jam up ahead.

Naomi had caught feelings, and for the first time in a long time she felt completely embarrassed with a mixture of hurt to top it off. Her mind, without permission, began to replay every interaction she’d had with Peter since their first encounter. All the jokes and teasing, all the stolen glances and quickened heart rate, the way she leaned into everything he’d said. Her heart felt misled but her mind continued to press that he owed her nothing. They met a few times and had good conversation…so what? But that kiss on the pier a small part of her volleyed back as if demanding to be validated. Her imagination was inventive but even she couldn’t make up the press of his lips against hers. The damn stuffed animal was all the proof she needed to know it was real. The conclusion was that all those moments had meant something to her and she had wanted it to mater to him. With a sigh Naomi leans against the bar top and sighs quickly ordering a stiff drink once she’s gotten the bartender’s attention. She feels the presence of someone near and of course it’d have to be Peter. Her stomach that was doing somersaults seconds ago as she rationalized feelings halted in one fell swoop at the sound of his voice. How did he do that? Pretend like nothing had happened? ‘Hi Naomi I don’t feel the same as you do’ or ‘Hey can I take back that kiss? It was a mistake’ any sort of explanation no matter how crappy she’d actually take at this point. “They really did,” she responds slowly turning to face him. “You look good,” she compliments her lips pushing into a brief smile as she thinks of what to say taking in his suit and not meeting his eyes. It’s not like their conversations to have awkwardness or tension and yet the feeling is front, centre, and unavoidable. “So does your date.” she states levelling her gaze with his.

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So she saw, and he nodded after realizing that it. The quick upturn of her lips hadn’t been her smile and he felt a jolt of well deserved guilt because of it. Naomi made it obvious that she assumed his relationship with Skylar went beyond friendship and Peter had to remind himself that her thinking that and then making a boundary was a good thing. Putting distance between himself and her was the entire reasoning behind leaning into Skylar those weeks turned months after the fire— after the kiss. Peter also concluded long ago that language allowed people to convey concepts and enable them to become opaque, forming solids. Therefore, it created constructs that meant very little as ideas but everything in application, a power they wouldn’t have otherwise. He’d always been diligent with the words that preceded his actions because of it, at least he tried to be. Language also came in a variety of ways, like the stiffness in Naomi’s body as her eyes found his and the way her voice altered slightly, almost if caught on something during the last of her statements. Peter brought his lips in, pressing them together before he shifted his gaze over to where Skylar was. Half a moment later he was looking at Naomi again. He could’ve nodded, thanked her, grabbed the drinks, and moved on. He could’ve mouthed words with meanings that weren’t his, but instead, “You’re upset.” His tone was low and void of the coldness that his actions up until that very evening suggested. So she still thought about him too, despite the time that passed since they last saw each other. The drinks were ready and he barely paid the bartender any attention, only a short nod in Thanks. One breathe in and Peter found himself unable to divert the topic and,  “Do you mind meeting me on the rooftop in thirty?” unable to stop himself from trying to remedy what was supposed to remain broken, detached, and forgotten. “I’ll be there.” He promised, regardless of whether she showed up or not. He took the drinks and went back to Skylar and the small group but his eyes barely left his watch before he excused himself again and headed upstairs. 

Midnight wasn’t far away so he’d have to make this quick. Their meeting place was only ideal because he didn’t want to risk anyone recognizing him and wondering who the woman was. He didn’t want Naomi involved in that life, not even by association, much less finding out about his role in everything. Peter’s palms were on the ledge of the roof as he took in the windy city. The door allowing roof access opened and he turned, almost surprised to see she actually showed up. The truth was that Peter could’ve played everything off. Some might argue that he should’ve. He hadn’t had more than a few casual run-ins with Naomi, but those moments of normalcy shared with her meant something. In fact, they meant a whole lot. “I owe you an explanation.” The change in him was apparent but it wasn’t like he could pretend with her forever. The Peter she met wasn’t one whose image, interests, and behavior he could keep up with when so much was riding on the Vronsky name. So much about Naomi attracted him to her, but every single thing that made him like her was then added to the list of why he could never have her.

ryanjmarshall​:

Dread is all consuming. Cloaking the body like a weighted blanket and in those split seconds he feels heavier than ever. But not to the point where he is rendered incapable of making calculated decisions because without even thinking, he’s stepping forward, green hues desperately searching the parking garage as they’re cast into darkness. Fireworks explode just beyond the confines of the building in a well orchestrated symphony, and for a brief moment it could almost be considered comical if it wasn’t for the sound he’s all too well attuned too, gunfire. His own weapon is already within his viper like grip when the air circulating his lungs is ceremoniously ripped free. 

The special agent’s body slumps to the floor before he’s even realized what has happened. Dominant hand still extended out in the direction of the shots that had been fired and for a long moment, he fails to realize the jeopardy of his dire situation. If he can all but get one good shot in, the other is done for. It’s his only though as he strains under the cover of darkness. Until a searing pain rips up his abdomen and across his chest. It’s a pain unlike any other and yet not one that is unfamiliar to the veteran. Throughout his career he had endured countless injuries, broken bones and two gunshot wounds. Nevertheless, not even experience is enough to dampen his affliction as his free hand lowers to the wound in his chest. 

Despite his blurred vision as the lights finally flicker on, he raises his hand to his face in an attempt to confirm that which he already knows – crimson liquid coats his fingertips and he instantly lets out an audible groan. The only saving grace is that of the blonde, kneeling at his side, seemingly unharmed as her words don’t quite reach his ears as the shock of the situation sinks in. “Dia–“ He attempts, falling short as his weapon finally clatters to the ground, his hand shifting to find her arm. “Go, get out.” He practically commands as green hues alite with something unreadable, flicker to the face of another that appears at her side. “It’s not sa–fe. Go dammit!” @dianavronsky​

+

The sound isn’t unfamiliar. How metal clinks against pavement in admittance of defeat, its owner succumbing to injuries well beyond saving. That same ricochet followed in the Bratva’s wake time and time again over the years, desensitizing any significance until it puddles at her own feet and evokes something akin to panic. It’s different when you know the dying face, Alexei would say to her in the quiet of his study. You must be prepared to lose and to lose greatly, Diana. Distance kept his middle child from that revelation, a frigid girl who revealed nothing of herself and thus denied others the same opportunity to give her something worth losing. Or perhaps she failed there as well, in the same way that her movements provide no assistance tonight.

Every thought turns over in a frenzy, echoing desperation coupled with an out-of-body feeling–– a loss of control, maybe. Like the sensation of accidentally missing a step on the way down, but it repeats with every passing second and she has nothing to grab hold of beyond him. The only lifeline worth counting on, now slipping through slick fingers. Diana maintains steady pressure against Ryan’s chest, although the gesture is futile without a method of sealing the wound that isn’t her own useless hands; both mottled by crimson pooling around them despite her best efforts. They were all destined for this same fate, weren’t they? Spilling out on the cold ground, repaying blood owed from a lifetime of cataclysm. “No, no… No–– I won’t leave you… I’ll just… I can––” What? Suture him in the middle of a parking garage? Laughable were Diana’s chest not seizing alongside that of her dearest friend. Bright hues widen, uncharacteristically distraught, seeking anyone who might be within the vicinity to help… until she hears salvation. 

Peter.

“Petey?” She chokes out his childhood nickname despite the tightness in her throat. This scene isn’t safe and they all know it, the gunman’s fucked off to God knows where and could return if reckless enough, but Diana needs him. For once in her self-assured life, she needs her brother to escape this mess. To save when she only knows how to destroy. “It’s Ryan,” her features betray both a poorly concealed fear and her attachment to the bodyguard. “I’m trying, but I can’t–– I need you to just… Please.” They aren’t built to fall apart so openly and for that singular reason, she manages to stave it off even when teetering on the brink. Gore mars her brother in a way that sickens the blonde as she draws his hand forward in replacement atop the wound, only releasing her own fervent hold once he’s secure. Peter is stronger by design. “Hold him–– just hold him together…” Thoughtlessly, she tears fabric from her gown along the seam where it had previously ripped in haste, attempting to makeshift a bandage of sorts before passing to her sibling to aid the stoppage. It’s only when Ryan grasps her arm that she focuses more intently upon keeping him conscious, blonde tendrils shaking in response to his command. “No, it’s okay. It’s–– you’re fine… You’re going to be fine.” @peter-vronsky​

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The concern in his chest shifted to Ryan. However, in the same breath that spoke such a childish nickname, Peter scanned the parking garage with his gun raised and ready. The old and flickering florescent lights inside provided dimness and shadows in the distance at best but his eyes were trained to spot any sort of movement. “Did you see them?” He kept his voice low just in case but it was edged with sharpness that required an immediate response. “Diana.” Peter called for her attention again but they both knew whoever did this was long gone. He dropped the gun to the side and moved over Ryan, inspecting his injuries while tossing her both keys and his phone. “Grab the car and check for signal.” Peter wasn’t sure if she would listen to him, he wasn’t sure if she could even move because he’d never seen that look in her eyes before. It was something he would reflect on later and wonder if she had ever felt that same panic towards him, but there were more pressing matters than his own selfish disillusionment. “Quick, Diana!” The Peter in the present was fully attentive to the situation. He took the fabric from his sister to use as makeshift gauze, “This is going to hurt.” He warned, unsure of how aware the bodyguard was past the pain and shock. In order to seal the wound as best as he could at that moment, Peter had to shove the pieces of fabric into the bullet wound. Raw, fresh, and incredibly painful. That he was sure of.

This kind of incident wasn’t unique to their world, it just happened to be painted differently in everyone else’s. Because, how many others created themselves in the image of shame? How often did people make their own misery, or conjure up reasons to justify that existing misfortune? Ryan had no choice in shouldering this responsibility much like the earth did not ask for the burden of the sea. He was Diana’s bodyguard and protecting her, even if it cost his life, was expected. Diana cared for him and so, in turn, Peter did as well. “Hang in there, man. You’re gonna be fine.” Bratva meant brotherhood, that very pact he pledged meant he would try to help him until the end as well. Even though neither of them knew the very man they so desperately worked to save was actively working against them. Ryan’s actions tonight would only solidify their trust in him and keep them blinded to the future, for now. Peter looked up, hoping to see the car approach. “C’mon, Ryan. Stay with me. I’m going to move you now, alright? That’s it, it’s okay. you’re gonna be fine.” Moving him into the car was going to be easier than lifting deadweight. It had to be. “C’mon, man! Stay with me. Shit.” Shit shit shit shit. “Diana!” 

where: grand ballroom | nye event

who: @peter-vronsky​

Naomi was completely in love with the live band that had been hired for the event. They played tune after tune and she gravitated towards the dance floor more times than she could count tonight, it obviously helped that her dress of choice demanded to be sashayed with every movement. As the party got into the final hour before midnight she scanned the room for familiar faces across the sea of strangers. There was her brother, Sam, Maddison, and then the woman she had met on that first day of snow, some coworkers, an old friend of her father’s, and him. The excitement that usually bubbled up within her whenever she saw Peter was completely subdued at the sight of a woman; gorgeous, blonde, nice smile; at his side and the proximity couldn’t be mistaken as anything else. “I’ll be right back,” she pushed a tight smile without realizing to the woman who she was speaking to and began making a beeline to the bar. Apparently she was going to need something stronger than the champagne to ring in the New Year.

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Smiling at his words, the blonde lifted her hand up to the side of his face for a second before moving her hand to her coat on the rack by the door. Skylar plucked her jacket from the stand, beginning to slip her arms through the sleeves. “Thank you, “ it was just easier. She didn’t need to worry about her past catching up to bite her in the ass when it came to Peter or even getting hurt because she knew both of them had a level of comfort and understanding with one another to not go too far into this if it meant one of them was going to get hurt. She pulled the jacket up completely, nodding her head. “Heating up the car before hand was a good idea, winters in Chicago are no joke.” They weren’t in Texas either, her hand reached for the doorknob, twisting it and pulling it open. “Are you ready?” She asked, knowing she was asking more than just being ready to leave.

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Peter had always hesitated when it came to showing interest in anyone. In some ways, many of the relationships inside the Bratva were established out of convenience or gain, but that was precisely what made what grew between Skylar and him so much more desirable. It stemmed from friendship and developed naturally to a certain degree, which might’ve been why he was so guarded about the topic whenever their relationship came up around the compound. Usually people approached Peter without hesitation but everyone was more cautious around speculation, especially this particular kind because no one had ever dealt with it before— at least when it came to the second to youngest Vronsky. Going to the New Year’s Eve party together was one thing, but taking her by the hand was another and Peter was more than aware of this. He leaned into her palm and closed his eyes for a moment. This is what comfort feels like then, he thought to himself. The blonde always seemed to read his mind, too. And when she pulled away, he realized that he missed the warmth she brought, but trailed behind. “Yeah.” He gave her a single nod, a short smile, and held the door open for her before locking it after stepping out. The two made it into the vehicle and we’re off. “There shouldn’t be any surprises tonight.” He was confident that they prepared for that after the meeting earlier in the week but there truly was never any telling in their lifestyle.

THE BRATVA COMPOUND December 20th w/ @peter-vronsky​

Brooke sat on the couch in the living area, a book draped across her lap. Some habits never change. She lifted her eyes up to see Peter and Skylar standing by one of the door ways together, her head tilting to the side a little. In the last few months she had returned home, the dynamic of her relationship with Peter changed to something different. In fact, the both of them were good at reading the other and there was an off putting aurora coming from him as he talked to the blonde. It was the sly touch of hands that caught her attention, her eyebrows both arching up before her eyes dropped to her book to act like she wasn’t staring at them the whole time. As soon as she knew the blonde was out of ear shot, she shut the book in her hands and let her eyes lift up to look at Peter. “So… Are you fucking her?” She asked as she tossed her book on the end table next to her. “Because you can’t be dating her.”

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Peter gave Skylar one last nod before she left and he fully entered the reading area of the compound. They’d meet up at his new place later to get ready for the New Year’s Eve party. He noticed Brooke watching him then and gave her a nod too. If there was anyone in the world who knew the ins and outs of Peter Vronsky, it had to be Brooke Davenport. They two had been attached by the hip growing up and had practically all of their firsts together. Even though statistics were against them, they remained friends throughout some of the hardest times. He was still reeling from the relief that washed over the moment she returned to their home. In the same manner, he shouldn’t have been caught off guard by her questions. “Nothing gets past you.” Peter simultaneously pressed his lips together and raised his eyebrows before finding a spot near her to take a seat. “Your research skills go past all the fancy gadgets you play with then?” It wasn’t an answer but he didn’t have to give her one since she seemed to already know. 

NYE PARTY December 31st w/ @peter-vronsky​

There is one thing the both of them understood when it came to what was happening between them and it was because whatever this was had felt effortlessly. Both of them had dealt with difficult before and this was the way out. At least she knew that was how it felt for her. It helped that she cared about the man standing next to her at the bar. Maybe it was the fact that he had seen a side of her no one else had including the man she knew her heart longed for. She picked up her glass of soda, bringing it up to her lips and taking a sip of it through the straw. She turned herself to face the blonde standing next to her as she reached out, adjusting his tie carefully. “You clean up nicely, Vronsky.” She told him softly with a smile on her features.

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The Bratva was ready for the New Year’s Eve party. They organized a meeting about safety precautions earlier so that they wouldn’t be blindsided and actually get to enjoy the night. Everything has been quiet recently and although Peter had his doubts, it felt good. He was mostly recovered from the burns, and things with Skylar had been smooth sailing. That is, as far as they were concerned because what happened within his home or hers wasn’t plastered all over the Bratva compound like flyers. It would be their first time out together in this way. She approached him and he ran his hands down her hips, resting them on the small of her back as she fixed his tie. He cared for her, and that made being like this easier. Peter had never been a very physical person, which was both a blessing and a curse, but the man needed connection before moving forward. He smiled at her compliment before voicing his thoughts. “You’re beautiful.” Skylar was his connection, even if the feelings he had for her stemmed out of need. “Ready to go? I started up the car a couple of minutes ago so it should be warm by now.” Chicago winters were no joke.  

Tagged: @peter-vronsky​, @ryanjmarshall

Location: Parking garage below the event

It’s a midnight deal gone south amidst the ominous echo of fireworks. Any stairwell backups hadn’t taken into account the power of a hidden muzzle, the culprit behind it masked somewhere within the darkness. A flash of gunfire blinks in Diana’s periphery and for a split second she believes the immediate darkness that follows is her own death. There is no pain, no sound, no anything. Just a fragment of time in which the world stands utterly still… Until she becomes distinctly aware of another individual hitting the cement floor. Her stomach drops alongside his body, too aware that the only person close enough to have caught lead is––

“Ryan,” her voice rasps into the inky depths, recognizing him without a breath of hesitation. “I’ve got you.” Expensive dress be damned, it audibly tears under the sudden velocity of how quickly she reaches his side and begins searching for the damp spot where pressure is needed. More gunshots resound nearby, but nothing else holds her attention quite like the horror of possibly losing him. Not like this, not in place of the person who rightfully deserved that bullet. 

Right on cue, the lights flicker to life and beneath her palm lies the stark white of his dress shirt now mottled with crimson. Fuck. Without intentionally dredging up the memory, she recalls Vasili’s body in a similar position only months prior; sanguine soaked as Diana desperately attempted to compress the source. It inspires that all-too-uncomfortable welling at the back of her throat, remnants of a fear she can’t swallow as his blood begins slipping between slender fingers. “We’re okay,” she affirms, drawing the bodyguard cautiously against herself despite her intrinsic haste. “Ryan, look at me. Please.”

Deja Vu was a bitch.

Peter couldn’t help the feeling that washed over him when the lights went out. These type of large gatherings put him on edge, always more aware of his surroundings. The countdown had begun and he surveyed the room. He was watching the way people’s eyes glimmered as they shouted in excitement, ready to welcome the new year, but he was looking for anyone who deviated from that behavior. Then, darkness. There was a moment of surprise but it soon trickled away. At that very moment he wasn’t yet aware that the doors had locked, and he had no idea how grateful he’d be that he kept a finger on one of the side doors after taking a breather outside moments earlier. It was what allowed him to hear the shot. They hadn’t planned this. A split second later Peter was sprinting down to the parking garage.

Calloused hands ran along the walls like a guide as he made his way down the stairs. Only one briefly left the cool corridor so he could check his phone and, “Shit.” No signal. Peter expertly held any emotions back, ready to take care of whatever caused the gun shot to ring through the cement walls as he reached for the firearm within his own suit. Stone cold, void of worry, he slowed and prepared to entire the unexpected.

Until he saw her.

Each of their names were bound, destined, irrevocably engraved with the same end. Every member of the Bratva, everyone attached to the Syndicate misfortune too, they would all end up covered with the wounds their lifestyles made. Everyone who’d taken their vows knew that. However, in an instant Peter was nearly flying. Like a jet on legs as he called for her. “Diana.” His voice was loud, booming in the oddest way over an area that sounded muffled by the tension in the air. And then, as he stepped forward, a type of grief that only comes after realizing he’s too late to something swarmed Peter, nearly stopping his heart as he felt it sink somewhere unreachable the second the scene registered in his mind. His sister, Diana. Hunched over, disheveled in the most uncharacteristic way and, then, the blood. It wasn’t until he dropped to the ground, hovering over her, that he saw Ryan’s condition.

Working Naomi was probably the most focused version of herself there was. Her floor was understaffed so she was bouncing from patient to patient and room to room. About to go on her break her coworker, and the closest friend she had at the hospital, asked her to take a room where a patient was waiting, coaxed by the fact that it was just removal of stitches. “You’re luck you’re my favourite!” she called out approaching the door. With three knocks, quick in succession, Naomi opened the door. “Hi, I’m Naomi and—” the greeting fell short for the first time as she noticed who was sitting there. “Peter?”  she questioned as if disbelieving her eyes and approaching slowly. The last time she’d seen him he was retreating into the crowd after their kiss. The blissful feeling only didn’t even last the night when chaos broke out on the pier. She’d been frantic to make sure he wasn’t in the fire and after a few days of nothing more than a first name and a description did she give up. For all she knew he hadn’t been anywhere near it or at the very least left unscathed. She looked over him, the urge to hug him held back by  professionalism and the fear of hurting him. “Um- I was worried about you.” An admittance she only offered to him. “Even subjected myself to going to Nektar!” she laughed even though it wasn’t a joke, and went towards the cabinet for supplies. 

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Peter dropped his head a bit, letting his eyes settle over the tile before him since it was harder to look at Naomi knowing what was happening with Skylar. Unware of the surge of emotions opposite of his own that moved through Naomi, Peter pressed his lips together when she said his name. For some reason, despite the fact that he knew she wasn’t aware of his actions past the night he kissed her, he still thought she’d sense his guilt. So, her worry came as a complete shock and he looked up to meet her eyes. “Were you?” His voice was softer than usual and he wasn’t sure if it was because that tone felt appropriate for the inside of a hospital room or because she made him... softer. And then he frowned. “You looked for me at Nektar?” Why else would she go, and why else would she admit that when she knew he’d made a very similar confession about the reason behind his visits to the restaurant they’d met at. “Uh.” Peter decided to relax, at least physically, so he dropped his shoulders a bit and slowly exhaled. “Yeah, I’m sorry.” Probably for more than she realized. “I got stuck in the funhouse when it caught on fire and turned into a bit of a hermit.” He offered the slightest of smirks, “I never thought I’d mind being hot until then.” Not the best joke on that occasion but he wasn’t sure where else to take that conversation. “I have a couple of stitches I need removed, but I’m sure you knew that.” He met her eyes again, stopping there for a moment. “How have you been?” 

There was a quick pitter patter that extended past the rainy weather outside and flowed into Peter’s chest as he sat in the examination room. The walls were a soft cream color that was probably meant to feel more cozy rather than sterile to worried patients but only made him wonder about whoever thought an off-white would be a good alternative. Peter knew there was a chance that he’d see her there, and a part of him that he wasn’t willing to admit out loud wanted to. He hated thinking about how he kissed Naomi and then asked Skylar to stay the night less than 48 hours later. Of course, there was no way for Naomi to know that Peter had reached out to her but grabbed hold of someone else instead. It’d been almost two weeks and he hadn’t seen her since. Before he could let his thoughts ran absolutely ramped, there was a knock on the door that made him straighten out. The visit to remove his stitches from a skin graft would be quick, and what were the chances it’d be Naomi on the other side? Apparently high. 

Only nodding back a welcome, the blonde sat on the coffee table in front of him. As soon as the pills were out of her hand they dropped down to the table, curling against the edge as she kept her gaze on him. Her head tilted the side when his gaze moved away from hers. It was as Peter was ashamed of something but she couldn’t figure out if maybe he didn’t want to look at her and lie about the subject or if he was ashamed of the years of pain this had put her through. There were many stages of grieve through the last few months, a part of her trying to figure out how to deal with the resentment she held towards the members of the Bratva. Members she had considered her family especially the two Vronskys she had grown close with and somehow the one right in front of her hurt a little more than the others. “There’s nothing for you to be sorry about.” She said. After spending the last few months, trying to find someone to be angry with. The only person she could really be upset with was Shawn for being the one who did this to her. He was the one who chose to leave her out of the loop and put her through the grief of losing him, sending her down a spiral that would ultimately bury her in ways she would have to dig herself out of just to survive. Lifting up from the coffee table, the blonde placed herself on the couch next to him, leaning against the back of the couch as she nodded her head. “Of course,” there was no need to discuss everything they had said to her in that room, trying to twist everything and pushing her until she had to shed a few tears to really sell her story. “I know.” She whispered. She could only imagine how far this was going to go and how much they were going to try and figure out. “I’ll understand if you need me to stay away for a few weeks.”

.

Peter didn’t know that Shawn was her brother until Skylar confronted him about the man a while back, and that simple fact was the only reason guilt hadn’t consumed him yet. She knew it too, but only because that confrontation had completely caught him off guard and he couldn’t cover up the shock on his own features in time when it happened. Even if he talked to Zeph about it, which he would, he couldn’t promise that he’d give her all of the answers she was looking for. Although Peter wished that he could take away Skylar’s pain and disappointment, he knew that wishes and reality were two separate things. Peter was so wrapped up in his head that he didn’t notice the way Skylar seemed to sink within herself as she opened up, not until the last soft spoken statement left her lips. He set the glass of water down and turned to her. His eyes landed on her side profile and he took in the changes in her expression for a moment before saying anything else. “Are you always thinking about other people?” He pressed his lips together as he wondered if Skylar had always thought of herself as a burden in other people’s lives. Peter felt a twinge in his chest. What he felt for her wasn’t the same thrilling feeling that came with Naomi and he knew he shouldn’t be comparing the two women but Skylar was safe. They were in the same world and he knew that was something he could never involve Naomi in, seeing as there would never be a way out. So maybe, just maybe, it was okay to step back into reality. At his core, Peter knew that was what he was supposed to do. He moved slightly closer to Skylar and placed a hand on her thigh. The pills hadn’t quite kicked in yet so he winced slightly with the movements but nothing he couldn’t bare as he got her attention. He took her chin with his other hand and turned her head so she’s look at him. “Stop thinking you have to go through this alone.”

Naomi’s life was mostly lived in the open, with a personality that loved getting to know people and connect it was easy to do so. Yet, there’s always been a part of her that had been placed in a bubble and that was the life of the Syndicate. It wasn’t her life, she’d chosen that, but where her brother and father were concerned she’d never really be disconnected. Now there was this new bubble; one of laughter, fun, mystery, and somewhat truths; a bubble that contained only her and Peter. The anonymity of who they were, the meetings by chance, all of it really was something that allowed her to be herself unapologetically. “See this is why you losing is beneficial, it’ll bring you down a few notches!” she giggled as she smacked his arm lightly. It wasn’t surprising to have fun with Peter, but it was only a matter of time that the bubble popped. This time due to her, well more so an injury, and the last thing she wanted was this to be the end of their time together. Naomi didn’t like to tell people when she was hurt, most times she brushed it off with a smile and kept it pushing. It wasn’t for a lack of trust, or even being ashamed but most had so much things going on the last thing she wanted was to be added to a list of someone’s worries. 

Finally letting herself look towards Peter that’s all she could see. She didn’t argue when he turned to the game attendant nodding slightly because she did need to rest. “I’m not embarrassed,” she shook her head, eyes falling to where he held her, “—Okay.” she agreed and followed his lead to the bench. Naomi sat carefully and felt a bit of relief, spending the last few weeks either on the couch or in bed maybe she’d exerted herself more than she anticipated. When he left, she let out a sigh and settled further in the seat, taking in the pier. When Peter returned she didn’t notice the stuffed animal at first, but when she did her heart seemed to swell in her chest. Giving him a small smile she was sure her eyes communicated more than she could muster, because Naomi was speechless. There was a warm sensation alight in her, one she couldn’t rationalize away to be nothing, not did she want to. “Just goes to show how badly I wanted it.” she countered, did he know just how much she liked being in his company? Placing the ice on her side, the coolness welcomed with a relieved sigh. “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to worry okay. I’m… I’m pretty much healed anyway. I just really wanted to come out tonight, been cooped up y’know— it is not for me!  Should’ve eased into moving so much though.” she admitted but held back what the injury actually was. To say you’ve been shot sounded daunting enough, but in this city it didn’t go without suspicions. “Hey,” she placed a hand on his shoulder, “Technically you won though.” she playfully rolled her eyes when he looked up. “What is your winning request?”

.

“Damn, you should look into boxing with an arm like that.” He chuckled and shifted to the side when she teasingly smacked him after the remark on his ego. Knowing that she was stronger than she looked, as most women were, made him smile. Talking to Naomi was like opening a can of worms, except that he never really knew what he was going to get every time she opened her mouth or darted those warm and simultaneously bright eyes in his direction. It was also surprisingly easy to tell when she wasn’t feeling her best, and honestly he really appreciated that her emotions always seemed to be displayed effortlessly on her pretty features. When had he started thinking about her like this? Had it been since the very beginning? He watched her take everything in and his chest did a thing he wasn’t used to when she recognized the stuffed animal. Had she not been there he might’ve given himself a pat on the back for remembering to collect the prize. He finished tying her shoe, but stayed put in a squat in front of her. “So you were hurt pretty badly.” It wasn’t a question, but she still diverted the conversation. He wasn’t going to push her to talk about it, albeit he was curious. “My request,” He repeated, “Right. About that...” Peter pretended to think about it for a moment but only because he wanted to see her roll her eyes and tease him again. Was this what liking someone felt like?

“What’s your surname?” He was going to ask for her number just moments earlier, but he changed his mind as he figured it’d be a better deal. With her full name he could look her up and figure out who she was linked to, if anyone at all, but Peter didn’t ask to have some kind of advantage over her. He didn’t ask to be one step ahead, he asked because he wanted to set luck aside and get to know her on their own terms. It’d been months of this cat and mouse game, and he felt like he knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t lie to him. She didn’t seem like that kind of person. But then again, neither did Peter and he was the biggest liar of them all. His eyes were locked on hers and when her name finally slipped past those full lips he gave her a little smirk. This wasn’t the time nor place and yet, like everything else with Naomi so far, Peter couldn’t seem to help himself as he leaned forward a little more to finally close the last bit of distance between his mouth and hers. He wasn’t this kind of man either, he couldn’t even remember the last time he felt pulled by someone enough to want to kiss them, but Naomi’s lips were soft and she smelled nice and he liked the way she looked at him when he made her smile. He liked when she talked about her favorite things and showed him her competitive spirit, and he really liked the way she looked at him when she thought he wasn’t looking. It made him feel something that paled whatever he felt towards anyone else. It was stupid, he knew, to feel so much for someone he knew so little. It wasn’t until then that another truth hit Peter, the reason behind his initial need to leave each of their encounters up to chance. He had always seen the light at the end of the tunnel, but that kiss... this woman... seeing Naomi was like find a reason to run towards it. He pulled away after a moment, barely giving himself any time to feel like he was on top of the world before he looked at his watch. “I have to meet a friend by the funhouse.” He gave her a short, soft nod before he stood up. “I’ll find you again Naomi Jones.” Peter started backing up, “Take care of yourself and that stuffed animal! You got that?” He called out one last time before he turned and walked away, away from the light at the end of the tunnel and straight into a darkness that confined him for so long it felt rather comforting.  

The injuries from the fire were bandaged up and as good as they were going to get for a while, which meant that Peter was back to business. He wasn’t going to sit around and do nothing when he needed to see his brother. Peter was usually good at keeping a level head when faced with most types of annoyances in life so he didn’t walk into his brother’s office with anger coursing through his body, but he did want answers. Logically he knew that there was a lot of information that didn’t trickle down to other members but Peter wasn’t just any other member, was he? He was a Vronsky, and not only that but his friendship with Skylar was well known so how could they have kept something like this from him? He looked like a fucking fool covering up when Skylar confronted him, pretending to know more about her allegedly dead brother than he actually did. And the truth was that Peter wasn’t even sure if Zephyr had anything to do with it but he knew that if someone knew then it had to be him. Peter was Zephyr’s sergeant of arms, he was supposed to be with him every step of the way to make sure business was carried out as smoothly as possible, he was supposed to be there to protect him and take care of things that Zeph didn’t have to be bothered with. So how had things with Shawn slipped past him? “I need to know what happened with Shawn Owens.” No greeting, nothing even resembling a formality this time around. “The cops took her in for questioning, Zephyr. Skylar.” Did he know that too?