#ivanpetrovitch

alexei's eyes narrowed, a flicker of contempt flashing across his hardened features as ivan's words hung in the air, ' be loyal to what matters. ' the words were simple enough, but they felt like a reproach— a reminder of everything alexei had sacrificed, everything he had lost.

he set down his glass, the amber liquid swirling in the low light of the room, the silence thick between them. ivan's gaze was steady, his face betraying nothing, but alexei knew the older man well enough to recognize the weight of judgment behind those words.

a scoff escaped his lips, sharp and bitter and biting. he leaned forward, his tone low, dangerous, like the growl of an animal cornered.

' and what matters to you, ivan? ' his voice was edged with a quiet fury, a challenge lingering in the air between them. ' is it loyalty to the motherland? to the cause? or to whatever twisted version of duty you’ve convinced yourself is worth dying for? whatever it is that natalia fights for now, maybe? '

alexei stood slowly, his tall frame looming over ivan, the tension crackling in the room. ' i was loyal my whole life. loyal to the lies they fed me. loyal to you and whatever charade we were a part of. and where did it get me? a lifetime of shadows and a life stolen from us. '

there was a pause, a quiet standoff as alexei's cold eyes met ivan's, both men knowing the cracks between them were more akin to chasms now. his eyes narrowed as he noticed the corner of ivan's mouth tighten, but the older man didn't counter his argument, because somewhere deep down, the old bastard knew he was right: loyalty alone had never been enough.

alexei's eyes narrow slightly, a flicker of emotion passing through them before his expression hardened again. He leaned forward, voice quiet but steady.

"vengeance, ivan, is the response of someone betrayed, it's about reclaiming what has been taken, restoring balance where the world has broken. '

a part of him understood the old man's point - anger, unchecked, could consume its holder like a wildfire. it could twist and distort, leaving nothing behind but a hollow victory. but sometimes, the need for justice outweighed the wisdom of restraint.

sometimes, vengeance wasn't about revenge at all. it was about making sure that the world never forgot the cost of betrayal and that anyone watching knew what the cost of crossing him might be.

he paused, his gaze distant for a moment, then looks back at ivan, eyes narrowing as he rounded on the man, indignation flaring in his veins at the thought of his would-be father-in-law trying to offer advice when he had already fallen foul to blind anger.

the man had an unnatural ability to find him, alexei would pay the old bastard his dues. be it in soviet russia, war torn afghanistan, the border villages of ukraine, the sparsely populated settlements along the foothills of the urals or the dense slums of mumbai ... ivan always managed to track him down.

prick.

looking up at the mirror that ran along the inside of the bar counter's wall, alexei paused - his bottle midway to his mouth. he knew exactly whose voice it was before his eyes locked onto a ghost who refused to stay buried.

' a lot of people want you dead. '

rolling his eyes to to the ceiling, he took a long slug of his beer, draining the bottle and setting it back on the counter with a hollow clunk as the old bastard took it upon himself to occupy the stool next to the alexei ... something told him he was going to need something stronger for this conversation.

' i suggest you run off to find your little tsarina and her soldier. '

' guess it's true what they say after all? '

' — you can't kill a bad thing. '

It had been years since she had crossed paths with Ivan, the only man she had ever seen as any kind of father in her life. Even if sometimes she always wondered if those memories were her own or something Department X implanted in her. Her doubt was never anything she brought up to the man who had risked everything for her time and time again. Surely this meant that what she remembered had been true, and when she saw him in the crowd outside the café in the small town she and James called home.

Some might think it was dumb for her to invite him here, but he deserved some peace as well and she had received her husband's blessing and she stood from the chair she had been occupying as a smile beamed across golden features. "Ivan!" accented words came happily as Natalia had no more reason to hide.

Approaching the man, she threw her arms around him in a hug. "Я скучал по тебе" part of her felt guilty that he wasn't at their wedding, hers and James', but it had just been the two of them. "I didn't expect you would actually come. How have you been?"