Disclaimer: We own nothing!
Well, this happened - because, everyone was a child at some point, even the worst of people.
As for the ages - I counted the years between Gideon and Nikolai, so hopefully I got it right, but if not, whoopsy, my bad... Da... *Shrug*
Cold air floated through the open window of the small bedroom. Rain poured on the tin roof, the sound running through six-year-old Vladimir's mind. He rolled over, shifting under his blanket and wondering what a real bed felt like. Someday... Someday he would know.
He peeked over the tattered edge of his blanket and looked through the darkness at Anatoly. He reached out, patting his brother's exposed head. "Are you awake?"
"I'm awake," The fifteen-year-old answered instantly. He turned over and ran a hand through his brown hair, in the process separating his brother's hand from his head.
Vlad narrowed his eyes and then shifted again. "Am I bad? Do you hate me?"
"Lot of questions," Anatoly made a face. "No, brother." He took a deep breath and patted Vladimir's arm to get his attention - as it often wandered, "I don't hate you."
"Even when I'm angry?" His childish voice was innocent as he spoke. He knew he was difficult at times. He didn't care, as long as Anatoly was still with him.
"Even then." Anatoly closed his eyes, feeling sleep tugging at the corners of his mind.
"Kay... I want a drink. Will you come with me?" Vladimir tugged on his older brother's arm. The child looked hopefully at Anatoly. "It's dark out there."
"Yeah..." Anatoly's voice growled with sleep. He sniffed, lips twitching sideways. He all but pried his eyes open again, standing and heading towards the door with Vlad in tow. "We must be quiet."
"I don't have to be." Vladimir said defiantly. He puffed out his chest-not very intimidating for a six-year-old-and looked up at Anatoly.
The teen set his hand on his brother's head, moving it to the nape of his neck and directing him out of the room. The next room was silent - uncomfortably so. Anatoly glanced around them, before padding forward quietly. Vlad started humming, just to prove he was his own boss, and didn't have to be quiet. Yet, he kept it down so that it wouldn't wake anyone else.
Anatoly eyed him, eyebrows tilting to create an owl-like expression. He looked forward again, clacking his teeth together.
Bare feet padded over cold floor as Vlad crossed the room toward the sink. He stopped once he stood before it and turned toward his older-and taller-brother. "Can't reach.." He grunted quietly as he pointed to a small plastic cup.
Anatoly snatched it off of the table, filled it with water and handed it to Vlad. "Vladimir, drink it quickly," he whispered, looking around the house. Vladimir took the cup and drank it... but not very quickly. He handed it back to Anatoly and whispered,
"Someday, I'm gonna be the boss, and everybody's gonna do what I say."
"Yes, one day, I don't doubt that." Anatoly's eyebrows went up and he leaned his head to the side, eyes momentarily widening. He pointed in the direction of the room, and started moving back, only waiting long enough to see if Vladimir was following. Vladimir nodded and walked forward, moving fast enough to pass Anatoly as they walked back to the room.
"Thank you, brother." Vladimir whispered, smiling up at his older brother. Anatoly hummed softly, looking over his shoulder once before he stared getting on the floor, crawling back under tattered blankets. Vladimir followed Anatoly's actions and burrowed under his own blanket. "Goodnight, my brother." Vlad whispered, patting Anatoly with one hand, while the other pulled the blanket higher over his brother.
"Goodnight." Anatoly smiled fondly, before finally letting his eyes droop closed.
"Goodnight." Vladimir whispered with a grin.
Anatoly's eyes popped back open.
This was a game of Vlad's.
He puffed out an amused breath. "Goodnight, Vladimir," he said pointedly.
"Yes, goodnight." Vlad snickered.
"Yeah, goodnight." Anatoly chuckled, an exhausted sound truly, and slowly it faded off to occasional hums.
"Goodnight, Anatoly." It was a battle now, and Vladimir was going to win.
Anatoly's hand came from beneath the thin covers and cuffed Vlad on the head.
"Oohmphh Shto?!" Vladimir's eyes narrowed and he smacked Anatoly's chest. "Goodnight..." He smirked, eyes shining.
Anatoly grunted, eyes opening again. "Goodnight."
"Hmm... Goodnight, brat moy."
"Da." Anatoly sighed. "You win. 'Night."
"Nyet... brat moy. We both win. G'night."
NOTE: Before it's mentioned, what Anatoly said, about "Going from Princes of Moscow"... Well, whether that was literal or not, I may just try and a make a timeline for them - and if so, a guess would be they would have gone back and forth - between having much and having nothing.
Either way.
God bless!
God bless!