#dmitrylane

Dmitry let out a heavy sigh, running his right hand through his already ruffled hair as his left clutched at the camera. The green light was long gone, and no matter how much he fiddled with the contraption, it didn’t seem to want to work.

He shivered thinking back on the ice cold water that he had to endure to save the camera. His hand paused in his hair. Did he really only wanted to save the camera? No, his first worry had been about Lane. He had to save Lane, first and foremost. Of course it was because she was an important part of the squad. Without her, the Book of the Apocalypse would not be translated. Yeah. That was it. 

She was important to the squad. 

Right. Just important to the squad. 

Dmitry sighed again, and more or less threw the broken camera into a drawer. He had given up on salvaging it. 

He moved towards the window, and looked out at the estate’s courtyard. 

The night was dark, it must have been nearing 2 am. If not later. Rotkov was quiet. It was always too quiet. He had to get the squad out of there soon. 

He looked over his shoulder, at his now empty desk where the camera laid. No, it wasn’t important to save the camera. It was important to save Lane. 

Who was he kidding, anyway. It was always about saving Lane. He couldn’t let her go, not when she seemed like the only person who seemed to understand him. 

Of  course, he had always had Anna, who did understand him to a certain extent, but he never could open up to her entirely. He had to be the shoulder she could cry on, he had to be there for her. It’s not like he hated Anna for it. He loved her obviously, but, after his father’s death…his duty to be the stronger one out of the siblings had amplified. He missed having someone to rely on. Someone who could understand his worries and flaws and fears and still love him nonetheless.

He had to take on the role of the General for the rest of the squad. He had to make the important decisions for everyone. Who would patrol where and with whom? What kind of security should be implemented during the night? How do the rations get divided? How do interpersonal conflicts get resolved? What is the best course of action if someone gets injured? How does he save everyone from dying? 

He was terrified of making a mistake. 

Wasn’t Lane similar? Stuck in some kind of coma for three years, how did she survive the sinking of the Siberia base? She had barely any memory of her past life. No one trusted her. She had to fight everyday to gain people’s warmth. How cold must she feel, as she wakes up every day and eats her food alone in a corner, always listening to the squad’s chatter but rarely chiming in?

He wanted to hide her from the suspicious gazes, save her from the abominations. He wanted to be a shield against everything that Lane dreaded. He would throw himself at anything and everything that  could hurt her. She would be safe, he would make sure of it. 

Dmitry thought back to the moment when Lane jumped into the water. He had been replaying it in his head constantly, wondering what he could have done differently. Maybe, if he had been faster, he could have caught the camera before Lane and then maybe he would have fallen into the water. 

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. He should have been the one to fall. How could he have let Lane get so close to dying? What kind of a leader would that make him?

A pause. 

Would Lane trust him to protect her? Would she come to him for her worries? What if she hated him for almost letting her die?

What if he wasn’t good enough for her?

Dmitry looked up at the Rotkov sky. Dark clouds hid the full moon. Only a flickering streetlight gave any sort of illumination. Standing there, in his cold office room, all alone, Dmitry made a promise. 

Whatever happened to them next, Dmitry would always stay close to Lane. He would never let harm come near. He would do everything in his power to protect Lane. Lane. His Lane. 

It was the end of another work day for Dmitry, and he decided to check on his teammates before clocking out for the day. 

He left his office, locking the door behind him and walked into the shared office space used by his team. 

He was quiet as a cat and quickly scanned his surroundings.

There were Lester and Noah bickering about something again, standing near the coffee machine. He could see Anhea, Kira and Pileon hunched together, making edits to a presentation which had to be given the coming Monday. He saw Greg rapidly typing away at his computer, probably sending emails at the end of the day. And there was Anna, fighting with the printer. 

Finally, he saw Lane, poring over a draft document of a translation. She had to translate Russian documents into English for some important clients. 

Dmitry cleared his throat, a bit louder than he actually wanted to, and stood there silently as his team turned to look at him. 

‘’Oh, Dmitry, there you are! We wanted to ask you something.’’ Greg perked up immediately on seeing him and jumped out of his seat to basically bound over to the man. ‘’Since the weekend is coming up, we were wondering if we could do a dinner party?’’

Dmitry raised an eyebrow, ‘’A dinner? Why? All of a sudden?’’

Lester answered for the group, ‘’Well, you know, there’s really no big reason for it. It’s just that we have had a hard month, what with all of our clients nitpicking ten million things about our work. We just want to relax, you know?’’

Dmitry thought about it. Lester was right, really. It had been a rather difficult time at work and unwinding with a team dinner where they wouldn’t have to worry about anything would definitely not be a bad idea. 

He smiled gently, ‘’Alright then, I’m on board. What restaurant are you thinking?’’

‘’A restaurant?’’ Noah’s annoyed voice replied, making everyone turn to him. ‘’Sorry, Dmitry, but I don’t know if I wanna go to a fancy place.’’

Greg, always the diplomatic man, spoke up, ‘’We could get fast food?’’

‘’For dinner? Absolutely not! I do not want fried stuff in me.’’ That was Pileon, who looked just a tad bit pissed off. But then again, he always looked angry. Dmitry figured that was just his face. 

Anna rolled her eyes and joined the conversation, ‘’Okay, so, no fancy places, no fast food. What are we supposed to do, order Chinese takeaway?’’

Dmitry sighed. Why did he even dare to think they could come to a decision quickly? His squad had the most different personalities and these clashes were a daily occurrence. 

‘’Okay, stop, everyone.’’ Dmitry raised his hand in a bid to attract their attention and make peace. ‘’I want everyone to be as comfortable as possible. So, no fancy places and no fast food. Instead, maybe for a more intimate and cosier feeling, we could hang out at someone’s place.’’

Dmitry looked around gauging everyone’s reactions: They all looked at him blankly but no one raised any objection. 

Dmitry remembered to put his hand down. ‘’So, I’m assuming everyone is in agreement?’’

There was a flurry of chaotic yeses and I guess so’s.

‘’Alright, which kind soul wants to volunteer as host?’’

— 

He should have known. Standing there at his kitchen counter, looking at the chocolate cake that had just finished baking, Dmitry cursed himself for not knowing any better. 

Somehow, he had convinced the squad to do a potluck. Dmitry was not built to cook a whole five - course meal. 

He was responsible for dessert and he had left the rest of the dishes to his friends’ whims and fancies. 

Even baking a simple chocolate cake was like a war to him. 

But, it was fine, now. After struggling with cups of cocoa powder and spoons of vanilla extract, and wrestling with the piping bags, Dmitry had reached the final stage of the process.

Decorating. 

Now, he had to figure out how to use those piping bags.

The doorbell rang right at that moment. Dmitry looked at the wall clock. It was only 7:05 PM, and he hadn't expected anyone to come before 7:30. Who could it be?

Wiping his hands on his apron, Dmitry moved quickly and opened the door. There was Lane, with a smile on her face and takeaway in her hands. 

‘’Hey, hope I’m not too late.’’

Dmitry blinked, looked her up and down and said, ‘’No, you’re actually the first one to show up.’’

Lane raised her eyebrows in surprise, ‘’Oh! I thought…but you said the party would be at seven, right?’’

‘’Yep, I did.’’

Lane looked at her wristwatch, an analog, ‘’It’s five minutes past seven.’’

‘’Yep, it is.’’

Lane looked at Dmitry again, the confusion apparent on her face.

Dmitry tried to explain, ‘’Well, usually people show up half an hour later than the agreed upon time.’’ 

‘’Why?’’ 

‘’...That’s a good question. I can’t tell you why.’’

Lane sighed. Her shoulders seemed to slouch down. 

Dmitry frowned. Had he said something wrong?

‘’Okay, listen, it’s alright,’’ he began, ‘’just come in, and make yourself comfortable.’’

Lane followed him into the house, placed the takeaway on the coffee table and sat at the left edge of the couch. 

Picking up the takeaway, Dmitry explained, ‘’I just have to decorate the cake so sit tight while I do that, and, uh, what did you bring?’’

‘’Spaghetti and meatballs. From the restaurant near my house. I’m not really much of a cook.’’ Lane sounded dejected, and Dmitry failed to understand why. Sure, she had shown up way earlier than he had expected, but it wasn’t a crime. 

Dmitry placed the spaghetti and meatballs into a bowl and set it aside. He had to do something more important than decorate a cake. 

Removing his apron and setting it on the back of an armchair, he sat down next to Lane. She looked at him in surprise, ‘’What about the cake?’’

‘’That can wait. I want to know what’s wrong with you.’’

‘’Huh? Nothing’s wrong.’’

‘’Are you lying to me?’’

‘’Why would I?’’

Dmitry ran his hand through his hair. ‘’I don’t know, Lane. Why do I hide my tears from Anna? Why do I not tell Greg why I picked a fight with my father again? Why do we hide things from the people we love?’’

‘’Oh. I didn’t think you considered me that close to you.’’ Lane entwined her fingers together, clearly nervous and a bit taken aback.

Dmitry leaned back on the couch and looked at the window with its curtains drawn. Without looking back, he said, ‘’Lane. I know you’ve only joined the team very recently, and I know everyone still treats you like the new girl - ‘’

‘’Because I am.’’

‘’Well, yes, but the point is, I know we haven’t known each other for a long time, but I want you to trust me. As a team leader.’’ 

And as a friend, maybe, but Dmitry will cross that bridge later. 

‘’Well, I do trust you.’’ Lane wasn’t lying here, She truly did trust Dmitry. He had this aura about him, where she knew that as long as he was there, everything would be okay. Maybe, it was just because he was the leader? And isn’t it normal to feel safe around someone you trust to lead?

‘’Tell me what’s bothering you, then. Please. Is someone in the team messing with you?’’

‘’No, it’s not the team. This is something else.’’

‘’Do you want to talk about it?’’ 

‘’Well, it’s just strange. It’s kind of your average teen being angsty about not fitting in.’’

Dmitry waited. 

‘’Ugh. It’s stupid, really. Not worth your time.’’

Dmitry didn’t say anything. 

‘’Hmph. It’s literally embarrassing, oh my god.’’

Silence. 

‘’Okay, fine. My whole life, I have been different, Like, I’m not normal. It’s always hard to gauge what people want from me. The only thing I’ve understood perfectly is that I need to do well academically to stay away from my family. I don’t know, I guess showing up to the party this early, when I was expected to show up late, is stupid. How am I supposed to know what people expect of me if they don’t tell me?’’

Lane took a deep breath and whipped her head at Dmitry and realised he still wasn’t looking at her. ‘’Dmitry! Say something.’’ 

‘’I’m sorry.’’

‘’What?’’ Lane had expected shock, confusion, maybe anger, the way her dad showed it. She was not expecting an apology.

‘’I’m sorry for not letting you know my expectations. A sign of a good leader is communication, no?’’ He looked at her now, and Lane could swear his eyes were glistening but she couldn’t be sure. Maybe it was her imagination?

‘’No, it’s… you don’t have to apologise. You probably assumed that I would understand to show up late.’’

It felt like such a small thing to blow up over, but for some reason, this conversation between Dmitry and Lane seemed important. The straw that broke the camel’s back. 

‘’No. It’s not right. I’m apologetic because I should have understood your needs.’’

‘’Well, I’m a hypocrite too, right? I didn’t tell you beforehand so how were you supposed to know?’’ 

Dmitry cracked a smile, ‘’Maybe you’re right. But I just want you to know, you can tell me anything that’s bothering you. Even if I can’t help directly, I’d still like to be someone you can talk to.’’

Lane smiled too, ‘’I will. Thanks for talking to me.’’

She was really grateful. No one had ever bothered to talk to her. 

—

‘’Okay so, do you even know how to do this?’’

‘’I’m trying my best.’’

Dmitry was hunched over his chocolate cake, piping hazelnut icing on it. He didn’t know if it would taste good, but he liked chocolate and he liked hazelnut so who cared?

Well. The piping bag was not the most cooperative thing in the world. 

Dmitry calculated that he had about 10 minutes before people started showing up. He had taken Lane into the kitchen so she could watch him work, but it was embarrassing to realise that she was just watching him struggle. 

The team leader who was supposed to know how to do everything clearly did not know how to pipe. 

‘’Do you need help?’’ Lane asked him the question gently, and he wondered if she was trying to control her laughter. 

‘’Do you know how to pipe?’’

‘’I’ve baked cakes before, but never really piped. It won’t hurt to try though.’’ Her answer was honest and Dmitry found something endearing about it. 

‘’Alright then, try.’’ He handed her the piping bag happily. Anything to get this cake nightmare over with. 

Lane and Dmitry exchanged places and Lane proceeded to squirt the whole icing all over the cake.

They looked at the cake. It was covered entirely with the icing. There didn’t seem to be any scope of redemption. 

‘’Uh.’’ Dmitry took a spatula and patted and smoothed the icing down. He had watched a person do it on YouTube. Although, Dmitry’s unpracticed hands didn’t do a great job.

‘’It looks bad.’’ Lane stated. 

‘’It looked a lot easier in that video I watched.’’ 

‘’I guess, icing isn’t our thing.’’ 

‘’Nope.’’

Lane took a spoon and scooped out a piece of the cake before Dmitry could stop her. She tasted it. ‘’Hmm. Maybe a bit too…hazelnutty…but it’s not bad.’’

‘’Well, it’s made out of love.’’

Lane giggled. ‘’That’s what matters, right?’’