A/N: This is the story of how Sasha and Aleksis grew up to become one of the best Jaeger pilot teams the world had ever seen and how they died together as heroes. Huge pre-canon backstory work here, I'm writing Sasha and Aleksis' lives from when they were very little to the time of their deaths in the Pacific Rim movie. While I do use a lot of my own ideas and head canons, I am trying as hard as I can to stick with the Pacific Rim universe canon by using reference materials such as the wiki, the comic, the movie novelization, snippets from the cast and crew, and the art book, Pacific Rim: Man, Machines, and Monsters. You will see some language from these sources in and out of my fic.

Also: Aleksis is the man and Sasha is the woman. After doing a lot of research and then finally hearing it from Travis Beacham himself, these genders have been confirmed in the canon and that's what I'm sticking with.

Like I said, this is going to be a long, multi-chaptered fic so stick with me if you can! Thank you for reading!

Also posted on my AO3 account. Updates every Wednesday.

Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own anything relating to Pacific Rim.

Aleksis – Age 5

2003

Aleksis was following behind his mother, trailing after her with his eyes locked on the sight of her long skirt and denim jacket, concentrating on keeping up. He wanted to say: "mama slow down," but she wouldn't have heard his small voice over the noise of the crowd.

They were on a busy Moscow street together, going in and out of various shops, buying groceries and other amenities for the week. Every Sunday after church, Aleksis and his mother walked downtown, a tradition they had been doing, in Aleksis' mind, all his life. In fact, his mother only started bringing her son shopping with her a little under half a year ago when he had turned five years old; after she figured out that he could carry the heavy bags and parcels of wrapped food. Five years old and already strong enough to help with her chores.

They had been walking for about twenty minutes (although to Aleksis it seemed like forever) and Aleksis was hungry. He had woken up late that morning and his mother hadn't wanted to wait for him to make his toast before leaving for church. "You'll have to eat later," she had said, measuring several large capfuls of whiskey in her paper coffee cup. "You'll be fine."

"Oh, let him take some bread," his father had said, blearily rubbing his eyes and stumbling out of the bedroom, the tie around his neck loosely knotted.

His mother had taken one look at her husband before sweeping out the front door. "Your tie is crooked."

Aleksis had stared up at his father, belly already rumbling. Meeting his son's pitiful gaze, Aleksis' father had shrugged helplessly. "Sorry, boy. What your mother wants, we give her."

Church was almost unbearable but Aleksis had made it through, imagining he felt full by swallowing big gulps of air to stop his belly from grumbling. Now it was well past any sort of reasonable lunchtime and he was starving. Having just been in the grocery store hadn't helped, either. As they left the supermarket, his mother looked behind at her son who was stumbling along under the weight of the two bags he carried. "Let me take one," she said to him, grabbing a paper bag from Aleksis' arms and adding it to the three she was already holding. Aleksis looked relieved that he was now only in charge of one bag.

"Is it snack time?" he asked, hoping her kindness would extend to feeding him. But his mother shook her head.

"Your father is waiting for us at home to bring him food. We can't stop or we'll be late." She turned and walked on. Gripping his paper bag afresh and resuming his position of walking behind his mother, Aleksis tried not to think of his complaining belly.

A bell jangled happily as his mother pushed opened the door to their last stop of the day, a small corner bodega that, according to Aleksis' mother, had the best deal on nips in the entire city. "Milla Kaidanovsky!" the man behind the counter greeted them, watching Milla hold the door open for her son. "And little Aleksis, how are you both?"

The door shut behind them and Milla used her hip to bump her son out of her way and into the corner just inside the shop. She set the bags she was carrying on the ground next to Aleksis and pointed a finger down, commanding him to stay. Standing up, she smiled at the store clerk, holding out a hand that hovered above the top of Aleksis' head. "Well, he's not really little now is he?" she said with a laugh before walking over to the display of little liquor bottles.

Aleksis looked up at the man behind the counter who gave a gentle smile and a shrug. "That's okay, big is good, big is strong," the man winked at Aleksis who blushed and looked away shyly. Aleksis wished he could remember the man's name but at five years old, names of store clerks weren't the kind of things he remembered. He supposed he could at least say "thank you". Aleksis looked back up at the clerk but was distracted from giving his thanks by something on the counter.

On one side of the counter was stacked a pyramid of round fruit. Gorgeous, colorful things all balanced on top of each other, golden skin practically gleaming in Aleksis' hungry eyes. The clerk laughed as he watched Aleksis' mouth drop open. "Interested in the oranges?" he grinned down at Aleksis who could only nod in return. "They were imported fresh today and I promise you, their taste cannot be beat." The clerk handed Aleksis one of the fruit, the orange from the very top of the display.

The orange was cool in his hands and to the touch it was softer than he had originally thought, the porous skin of the fruit almost squishy. Aleksis had never eaten an orange before in his life, but the round, plump, colored fruit looked extremely enticing. His mouth watered. "Mama?" he asked softly, eyes locked on the fruit. "May I have this o-orange?" He stumbled slightly over the new word.

His mother was busy choosing between two different brands of vodka. "I don't care." She looked up finally and moved to the register. "Can you ring all this up?" Thirteen glass vodka nips clinked as she set them down on the counter. She looked down at Aleksis and sighed. "And the orange, please?"

Aleksis tried not to bounce on his heels with excitement. He sniffed the skin of the fruit. Should he bite it? About to sink his teeth into the outside of the orange, his mother interrupted his progress when she collected her change and nips and moved to leave, bending to gather all the grocery bags back into her arms.

"Tell Pytor I say hello," the store clerk said as they left. Milla said nothing but Aleksis gave a little wave over his shoulder, using the hand that clutched the orange tightly in his fist as his other hand was holding a paper bag.

As they made their way back to their apartment, Aleksis tried to figure out the orange. "Mama?" he asked finally, holding it up with a puzzled look on his face. Seeing what her son was asking, Milla laughed harshly.

"You just had to make me buy that. Although I suppose it is a nice looking orange…" She considered this for a moment then looked around. "There's a bench, let's sit for a moment." Hauling their bags across a small patch of grass, Aleksis dropped his armload onto the ground in front of the public bench and wiggled himself happily onto the seat, excited to get to taste the orange and to finally eat something. His mother sat down next to him and took the orange from his hand. "You peel it," she said, thumbnail piercing the skin of fruit and pulling it back, revealing a light yellow inside. "And then you separate it." Aleksis watched, fascinated, as his mother revealed to him the secrets of the orange.

Nine sections of the freshly peeled fruit lay amidst its skin on the lap of Milla's skirt. Aleksis reached for one. "Not yet!" his mother cried. Jostling for something in her pocket, she produced a nip of vodka, holding it between her knees and unscrewing the top. "Oranges are to drink with. Hold the top," she instructed her son, handing him the metal screw cap for the nip.

Aleksis sat back with the nip top in his hand instead of his much desired slice of orange, and huffed a small sigh. His mother was reaching into one of the shopping bags from the supermarket, rifling blindly around for something at the bottom. "I know we have some cinnamon in here somewhere…yes!" Milla produced a new cinnamon shaker they had just purchased at the supermarket and ripped of the plastic seal. Licking her hand on the skin between her thumb knuckle and the base of her pointer finger, she sprinkled the cinnamon on her trail of spit. "First, lick the cinnamon," she said, as if her five year old were to follow along with what she was doing. "Then drink the vodka," she continued, words sounding funny to Aleksis' ears as she talked around the cinnamon on her tongue. Milla downed the nip easily, breathing out heavily as she swallowed the alcohol. "And finally, the orange!" Milla exclaimed happily, popping a slice into her mouth and sucking on it before chewing and swallowing the fruit. She grinned down at Aleksis. "What a good afternoon treat!" Milla ate another orange slice.

"Can I have one?" Aleksis asked again.

"Not yet, it's still my turn."

Aleksis groaned and sat back on the bench, staring straight ahead in boredom as his mother ate more slices and did two more orange and cinnamon shots. It took her less than ten minutes. "Well Aleksis, buying the orange was a great idea," Milla said, rousing her son from a daydream. Aleksis looked around and realized the orange was all gone.

"Mama, I wanted that orange!" he whined, tears starting to prick at his eyes.

She looked down at him and blinked slowly. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you wanted it."

"But I'm hungry!"

His mother heaved a sigh. "People go hungry all the time, Aleksis, it's nothing new. Besides, you don't need any more food, look how tall you are." Aleksis burst into tears. Milla rolled her eyes and got up to throw away the orange peels in the public garbage bin next to the bench. Looking back at her son crying on the bench, Milla reached into her pocket for another nip. Drinking it in a few big gulps she wiped her mouth and threw the bottle out in the garbage on top of the orange peels. "Oh, stop crying! We're going home, okay? My god, you've given me such a headache." She grabbed his arm and hauled him as best she could in the direction of their house, Aleksis carrying a shopping bag and crying the whole way.

Still very hungry that night at dinner, Aleksis asked for seconds of the stew his mother had made and his request was met with a long silence. Finally, his father nodded. "Help yourself." Aleksis got up from the table with his mother watching him over the rim of the wine glass from which she was sipping.

"Aleksis," she said. "Stop. Turn around and look at me."

Still holding his empty stew bowl, Aleksis turned from his progress to the kitchen and back to the table. "Yes mama?"

Instead of continuing to speak to him, his mother turned to her husband. "I don't think seconds are a good idea. Look at him, Pytor. He's huge!"

"Milla, a second helping of stew wouldn't hurt," Aleksis' father said gently.

She scoffed. "It will if it makes him keep growing. Five years old and already 124 centimeters! It's unheard of." She finished the wine in her glass and poured herself another large helping, emptying the bottle and setting it back down on the table.

Aleksis' father put a hand on his wife's arm. "Maybe you've had enough, dear."

"I know when I've had enough!" Milla's words were suddenly harsh and shrill as she yanked her wine close to her chest, protective of her alcohol. Her face was contorted into an ugly snarl and Aleksis took a step back, afraid of his mother.

"No one is taking away your wine, Milla," Pytor said with exasperation. "Let him have more stew for goodness sake. It is just food."

"Pytor he's growing so fast our wallets can hardly keep up! He will eat us out of house and home!" Milla was quickly loosing her patience.

"He's only…" Aleksis' father was cut off from finishing his sentence by a harsh slap to his face: Milla had backhanded Pytor. Aleksis dropped his bowl. It clattered to the ground and a crack appeared on the side.

"Shut up!" Milla was screaming now, standing up from the table to lean over her husband and yell at him. "You don't know anything! I'm the one who has to be around him all day! I'm the one everyone stares at on the streets! They think I'm sheltering a monster, an abomination! It's a burden to me don't you get it? It's a…"

Milla stopped yelling when Aleksis' father moved his hands that had been covering his face. Blood was streaming from a gash just below Pytor's left eye. She had hit him with her diamond wedding ring. "Jesus, Milla…" Pytor said, staring at the blood on his hands.

Aleksis watched as his mother's face changed from rage to concern in one swift moment. "My god, Pytor, I didn't mean to hurt you like that." She moved to cradle her husband's head close to her chest. "I'm so, so sorry." Wine spilled down Pytor's back as she rocked him gently back and forth. She looked up at Aleksis, still standing frightened in the doorway to the kitchen. "Quickly! A clean towel from the kitchen, and soak it in water first." Aleksis ran to do as he was bidden, still hearing the apologetic mutterings of his mother and the groans of his father.

Running the tap over a clean dishtowel, Aleksis let his hands get wet, the cool water over his skin felt good and it took his mind off his stomach that now felt queasy. He stalled as long as he could in the kitchen before going back into the other room. "Mama," he said when he was by her side, holding out the rag. She traded it for her wine glass, which Aleksis carefully set down on the table. The last time he had shattered one of her wine glasses, she hadn't spoken to him for a week. Aleksis watched as his mother straddled his father's lap in the chair, Milla working to clean Pytor's wound.

"This is your fault, you know," Milla said to Aleksis as she dabbed at Pytor's cut.

"It wasn't him," Aleksis' father said. "If anything, it was the wine's fault."

Milla sat back, looking angry again. "Oh, the wine's fault? Then why do you give me money to buy the wine, hmm? You love it when I drink the wine because then I let you do anything you want to me and do I complain? Never." She moved to dab at the cut again. "So next time you say it's the wine's fault, think twice."

Aleksis jumped in surprise when his father grabbed his mother's hair, right at the base of her neck, twisting her head back and away from cleaning his gash. "Complain? Woman, all you do is complain." Pytor considered his wife there for a moment, watching her struggle under his grip. "You want me to give you something to really complain about?" Aleksis frowned as his father lunged forward with his mouth and seemed to bite down on Milla's neck. Maybe it didn't hurt her because she didn't cry out in pain. Instead, when Pytor let go of her hair, she moved to kiss her husband's mouth, the two sucking and licking at each other ferociously. Aleksis was mildly puzzled as to why this was a thing people did but he had seen them do this before so he guessed they must enjoy some part of it.

After a few more moments, Pytor stood up, carrying Milla in his arms and crossing over to the couch in the living room. He dropped his wife on the couch and stood before her, unbuckling his pants. Turning, he looked at Aleksis still watching them from near the dinner table. "Go away, boy. Go to your room and go to sleep." Aleksis watched a bit longer as his father pulled down his pants and lay down on top of his mother. Finally, Aleksis sighed and went to his bedroom. They still hadn't told him if he could have seconds. Lying on his bed, his stomach grumbled.

Later that night, Aleksis woke to the sound of his bed creaking and the movement of his mother sitting down next to him. "I'm sorry, Aleksis," she said, words slurring together and breath smelling of the wine she drank at dinner. Aleksis pretended to be asleep as he always did when she came into his room. She stroked the hair on his forehead, pushing the bangs away from his head in the only loving gesture she would ever give to her son. "I am sorry I am a terrible mother." She stayed there for several more long minutes, stroking Aleksis' hair and sniffing her nose wetly.

Aleksis remained as still as he could manage, at once feeling overwhelming love for his mother and yet still a burning hatred for her that shouldn't exist in anyone so young. She would never touch him like this when she was sober or even during the daytime, not when anyone could potentially see her. Milla reserved practicing her skill for mothering to about 11:45 each night, when she was completely wasted on whatever choice liquor she had drunk that day. Aleksis would have given anything for her to touch him like this when he wasn't faking sleep. Maybe when she dropped him off at daycare or even when he was sitting on the floor playing with his toys and she was in her chair next to him reading.

His mother coughed roughly a few times before groaning and getting up quickly from Aleksis' bed. Opening his eyes, Aleksis watched as his mother fled his room, stumbling to the bathroom and vomiting into the toilet. She hadn't closed his bedroom door so Aleksis could hear every heaving and splashing sound as Milla threw up the contents of her stomach.

The sounds of her vomiting put him to sleep. The only lullaby he would ever know.

Thank you! Reviews are always welcome!