Tsvetan- Bulgaria

Alin- Romania

Katya- Ukraine

Ms Mancham- Seychelles

Jan- Netherlands

…

Okay, now this is the long-awaited, and hopefully not disappointing, sequel to 'Only one to stand by me', so it might be a wise idea to go read that. If you've already endured that, then please go on, if not, you might want to have a look at that first.

Okay so I'm assuming people who are reading this from here on have already read the first fic. If not, you're one dumb fucker, but also pretty rebellious and gutsy, which are great qualities in a pirate or something, but not so much a reader.

Go read the other fic.

Okay, now this fic does need a few warnings. It'll contain some blood, shooting and general illegal things. In addition, it'll contain Romania and Bulgaria doing lots of dumb shit that gets them in trouble, but is anyone genuinely surprised at that? Also the character death for this series will rack up a fair bit, so please don't get emotionally attached to anyone. But seeing as this is fanfiction and all, I'm guessing it's a bit late for that. It also contains a Londoner with no passport writing about places they vaguely know, who would also be grateful for some advice from more well-travelled folks.

Anyway. On with the show!

…

To say Tsvetan Borisov loved his job was an understatement.

He took another sip from his coffee, looking around his tiny but comfortable office, listening to the shouts of the children in the playground below his window. As he had no clients at that moment in time, he'd left the door open, and students often walked past in pairs or groups, talking loudly and a few even waved or called hello to him. He loved working in this environment, meeting young people from different backgrounds and walks of life and just listening to their stories. People booked appointments with him for all sorts of reasons, such as having troubles with family, friends, mental health or schoolwork, some sent by teachers and others coming of their own accord, and he listened to them all. Each young person was different. Some came to his office to rant and cry, whilst others mostly kept to friendly conversation, rarely touching upon their problems. He loved trying to help them manage their struggles, though it upset him to think about people so young going through these kinds of troubles, and he especially loved watching them change over the weeks.

The first week was always nerve-wracking for him- even though he'd been at this job for a few years now- and usually involved his client doing most of the talking, explaining their problems in detail, usually forcing themselves with a pained expression as they internally told themselves that this was the best for them, and would help in the long run. Most came back for a second session. From there it varied, as some would focus on whatever issue they wanted help on whilst others simply talked about TV shows they liked, or what they did at the weekend. Although Tsvetan was eager to get to the source of those people's issues, he understood that some people felt uncomfortable talking about such things, or just wanted someone to talk to in general.

Either way, Tsvetan observed how the attention he gave those young people allowed them to bloom. The first week usually saw the arrival of someone timid, unsure of how counselling was supposed to work, cynical about the process and bogged down with their troubles, often having never talked about them with anyone else. But after a few weeks, he could see the effect a calming environment and attention they often lacked in other aspects of life had on them, particularly in their body language. A lot of his clients started out hunched and surly, staring at the ground and talking in a low mumble, but slowly over the weeks they became more relaxed, leaning back in their chair and becoming more animated as they spoke. He'd be lying if he said the change didn't make his heart swell.

The most important thing about these sessions, Tsvetan believed, was allowing the young people to decide what they wanted to talk about or do. He wanted to let at least one aspect of their lives be in their own hands, and give them even the smallest amount of control of their lives. They often talked about how school and home life controlled them, and their frustration over it. He knew all too well how a lack of control in life could easily spiral a person down into a state of depression, and it showed in some of his clients. That was also why he didn't pressure any of them to talk about their problems specifically- his clients would only talk to him when they were comfortable enough to.

Yes, he loved his job very much, even though it- obviously- came with its downsides.

Most of his day was quite relaxed, isolated, even, with him talking to up to six people a day for forty-five minutes or so, taking a few quick breaks between clients, and going home. But a high school environment never stayed quiet for long. Break times came and the corridors would fill with shouting teens and Tsvetan would be overwhelmed with thundering feet and people yelling to be heard over each other. The noise in general didn't usually bother him, as he knew when break times were, but every now and again a student wandering the corridors during lesson times would call something out, either because they were bored or had seen someone they knew, and make him jump. His own clients could be unpredictable too. The people he dealt with had a range of problems that could leave them needing to scream out their frustration or grief. He understood that, but sudden raised voices still scared him. He didn't like telling his clients that though, as he felt it would make it seem like he was trying to make the situation about him, which was the last thing that was needed when he was trying to make said emotional person trust him. He could cope with the noise if it meant his clients were more comfortable. He could deal with his office being a little too small for his liking, if it meant his clients felt safe. He could even manage having people brush up against him in the corridors every time he went to get a tea or coffee, or sit in the staff room.

The one thing that he could do without was the foul language though. Being a high school, the place was rife with swearing and degrading words. The swearing he didn't mind; heck, he had a pretty foul mouth himself, but every now and again he'd hear someone shout something that cut close to the bone. A word that he'd been called before in the middle of the street, or called himself when he was at a low point. Sometimes he heard people shout words that had been shouted at him during his torture. Depending on what was said, it could make him slightly uncomfortable or make him break down entirely, quickly shutting his office door so no one could see him sob and whimper on the floor, pulled back into an evil memory.

Still, Tsvetan was sure that would be easily cured with a few school talks. He hadn't brought it up with any of the staff though, because he had yet to figure out a creative, original way to engage with the students. A boring PowerPoint wouldn't do the trick, and would probably just make the situation worse.

Tsvetan smiled into his cup; here he was, making plans for his future, a future he once thought he'd never have.

"Speaking of which…" Tsvetan wondered if he'd have time to give his husband a quick call before his next client. Glancing at the clock, he found he had ten minutes, and decided to go for it. He wouldn't usually, but today was a big day for them; today they were getting a home visit from their caseworker to see if they could adopt. Tsvetan felt giddy at the thought. The idea of him and Alin with a child of their own… he couldn't describe it! They'd be responsible for their own tiny human, who no one would love more than them. Tsvetan knew it would be hard work, but preferred to think of how rewarding it would be. He couldn't wait to hold his child close and sing to them, watching them grow older and achieve all those important steps in life. He wanted to be there for their first steps, their first day of school, and every play they auditioned for. He'd drive them to and from whatever after-school clubs they went to, help them with homework and listen to their problems. He knew Alin felt the same too, and the pair had talked for hours about what they could do when they were parents, and where they'd take their child for day trips and holidays. They were both so excited…

The adoption process had started nearly eight months ago, shortly after their wedding, and still had a long way to go. The wedding itself had been a simple affair, with just a few friends and no honeymoon; they were already saving up for parenthood, especially since even the adoption process cost money. After contacting an agency, they'd completed a training programme and filled in an application. The training and vast amount of paperwork had almost put Tsvetan off the whole thing, but Alin persisted, working hard to complete every training session and get all the necessary paperwork completed. Tsvetan admired him for it, and watching the man work relentlessly made him realise why he'd fallen in love with Alin in the first place.

This home study stage was giving Tsvetan second thoughts too. He couldn't help but feel ever so slightly invaded at the thought of all the information he needed to provide. Already, he had medical records checked- a particularly hefty process for him- as well as upcoming criminal record checks, and they needed to provide references, family checks, experiences with children, income and daily life routines. They wanted to know his entire life story. The medical checks worried him the most; would they believe he'd recovered enough to look after a child? Alin, meanwhile, fretted over his criminal record. To be completely honest, Tsvetan did too. Hopefully, the larceny charges would put the agency off- especially since Alin had been released for over two years now and hadn't reoffended since- but there was still that one other incident…

Tsvetan shook his head; the whole thing was silly, and there was no way that he'd dare believe they'd be refused after all the work they'd put in. The pair had even had to temporarily cut themselves off from so many of their friends and acquaintances, including Ivan, Tino and Alfred, so they wouldn't be inspected. That also meant strengthening their friendships with Katya, Roderich and other more respectable members of their community. Katya wasn't a problem, but Alin and Elizabeta still had a fierce rivalry that had only gotten worse over the years. However, the pair had agreed to tone things down during the adoption process, so Tsvetan and Roderich were blessed with several months of peace.

It was times like this that Tsvetan wondered if they were even suitable to raise a child. Even though he and Alin no longer dabbled in any illegal business, a lot of people in their community did and the child could easily follow that path once they were older. In addition, there was Tsvetan's health. He knew he'd never fully recover from his experiences, and honestly didn't want to force a child to deal with his mess like Alin and Katya had to. What if he got sucked back into a bad place again? What if he tried ending it all and the child was the one to find him? What if there was a physical health problem that had gone unnoticed by the doctors and resurfaced years later? He remembered that one time- a couple of weeks ago- where he'd voiced these concerns to Alin whilst they were curled up on the couch.

"Don't say it!" the other had replied fiercely, placing his hands either side of Tsvetan's face, red eyes almost drilling into his green ones, "don't even think it! And don't you dare ever tell yourself that you're not good enough for this baby! We deserve a child and a chance at some damn happiness! You'd make a fantastic parent, Tsvet; I've never known someone with that much kindness in his heart. Yes, it'll be hard, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't scared of it, but we'll get there! We'll learn and develop with this baby. We'll make sure none of us get caught up in any illegal shit, and if- god forbid- that ever happens, then well stick together and help each other! That's what families do, right? Families also don't view their members badly because of health. You're stronger than you think you are, Borisov-Radacanu, and need to give yourself some fucking credit once in a while! Besides, you won't have to raise this kid alone; I'll be here to keep an eye on your health, just like you'll be here to keep check on me."

Although he'd been somewhat comforted by his husband's words, Tsvetan was still uncertain. Maybe he just needed to talk to said husband again.

So he pulled his mobile out of his pocket and began dialling. Alin answered almost immediately.

"Hey," Tsvetan began.

"Oh hi Tsvet," the other replied, "all well where you are?"

"Not too bad. On a break now. How's the tidying going?"

He could almost hear Alin rolling his eyes before replying; "the apartment's squeaky clean. I've put child locks on pretty much everything that moves and tested the smoke alarm. It's fine Tsvet, calm down."

"I am calm," Tsvetan tittered, "just wanted to check up on you."

"Good to know," Alin replied, "erm, I've been meaning to ask, and might've left it a bit late…"

"Yes, all your history and magic books need to do a disappearing spell. We can't have Ms Mancham stumbling across anything that might traumatise our poor future child. I suggest leaving them with one of the neighbours. Best not to ask old man Vargas. Poor guy has enough on his plate."

"Ms Mancham is not going to care about my books!" Alin protested, "as long as they're out of reach, she won't be too bothered by them. It's about Vladislav. Do you think it might be best for him to do a disappearing act?"

"Probably not," Tsvetan rubbed his chin, "he's harmless. I guess this is something we can ask Ms Mancham about today. This whole thing's to iron out all any wrinkles we might still have."

"True. So is there anything you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Nope," Tsvetan nodded, even though the other couldn't see, "just wanted to check up on you."

"Excited?"

Tsvetan peered outside to make sure there was no one in the corridor before squeaking out a 'yes'. He was absolutely giddy; nervous too, but trying his best to remain positive and excited about the whole thing, which wasn't too hard.

"I am too!" Alin almost shouted back, "oh gosh we're gonna be that much closer to getting a baby! We're gonna be given an actual human!" Tsvetan heard a crash and a string of curses from the other end of the line.

"What have you done now?"

"Nothing! Okay, I might've knocked over a lamp. Gotta go fix this. Love you!"

"Love you too," Tsvetan sighed, smiling as the connection went dead and he pocketed his phone.

"Everything alright, Tsvetan?"

Tsvetan jumped, snapping his head up to find the vice principal, a Mr Yao Wang, smiling in the doorway.

"Yao!" he gasped, jumping in fright. The teacher just snorted, coming in and sitting down on the only other chair in the room, the one usually occupied by troubled students. Tsvetan pulled at his blazer sleeves nervously, trying to hide the faint white scars on his wrists and arms. It was a habit now, and he did it every time someone entered his office, regardless of whom it was.

Tsvetan respected Mr Wang greatly; after all, it was the aging teacher who'd given him the job here in the first place. It turned out that he'd been Katya's professor when the woman had been training to become a teacher, and the pair still kept in touch with each other. He also knew of Tsvetan's ordeal, and had wanted to help him get a fresh start, and for that the young man was grateful.

"Calm down," Yao continued, "I was just passing and wanted to see if you're okay. Your face had gone awfully read, like you were running late for something."

"Oh," Tsvetan looked around awkwardly, "yeah, I'm fine. Just a little nervous."

"How come?" Yao looked at him curiously.

"Well today's a big day in the adoption process. This lady from the agency's going to look at where we live and see if it's fit for a child."

Yao nodded, giving a small smile. "Good luck! Although, I don't know why you're bothering," he added, "children are cute at first but then they grow up to be disrespectful little shits, who go off and do their own thing, barely glancing back. No time for their old father, oh no…"

Tsvetan rolled his eyes. This wasn't the first time he'd heard bitter comments from the middle-aged teacher about his adult children.

"I know you're cynical about the rantings of an old man," Yao glared at him, "but all you young people are. One day you'll understand."

"I'm twenty seven!" Tsvetan sighed and nodded, before hastily changing it to a shake, "I think I'm old enough to decide if I want to be a parent."

"I know…" Yao looked at him evenly, "I guess I should realise by now that what happened to me isn't the norm. Just because my own children chose career over me, doesn't mean yours will."

"Thank you," Tsvetan smiled back at him, "now can you please vacate that seat? I have an appointment with young Raivis in a few minutes."

Mr Wang barked out a laugh, shaking his head as he left the room.

…

Their building hadn't changed much over the years. Tsvetan walked up the carpeted stairs in silence, noting how it had faded slightly since he'd first trodden here, and there were a few more scribbles on the walls, but nothing else told of the time that had gone by. The hall was still pretty dark, most of the bulbs had long stopped working and no one wanted to fork out for replacements. Still, he could navigate pretty easily with the little light there was; he only hoped their case worker would be just as unperturbed by it.

For two years now, Alin had been allowed back into society, and worked to rebuild his relationship with Tsvetan. Like all damaged things, they couldn't go back to the way they were before, so built something different, a new closeness that added to their previous way of life. Held together by a long hidden love and need to keep the other close, they'd entered a romantic relationship, slowly but surely relearning each other, and stumbling through their new, lawful, existence.

The result was their marriage and plans for a family.

Tsvetan pulled out his keys, unlocking the door to his apartment, and was instantly greeted by an ecstatic Alin, who gave him a quick kiss before bursting into excited chatter.

"Oh good, you're home!" His husband pulled him inside, grinning widely and desperate to show off his handiwork. "I cleaned everything. This place is going to look perfect for Ms Mancham!"

"Good to know," Tsvetan smiled as he looked around. Alin had worked very hard indeed, making sure the place was not only clean and hygienic, but safe and completely child-proofed. "It's fantastic," he added, eyes wandering over the child locks on the kitchen cupboards, the freshly vacuumed carpet and now magazine-free coffee table.

"You think so?" Alin grinned at him with tired eyes. Tsvetan felt a pang of guilt as he noted how much thinner his husband had become since they'd first contacted the agency. His face was paler too, and taking on a greyish tinge whilst dark bags hung under his eyes; Alin had really been pushing himself these last few months. Tsvetan often woke up in the night to find him sat on the floor at the coffee table, filling in paperwork or phoning people for references, and had to almost drag him away to sleep. He couldn't help but wonder why Alin did this. Sure, Tsvetan so badly wanted a baby too, but he hadn't lost too much sleep over it.

"You should ask Toni to give you the night off," he commented, wandering over to Alin and kissing his cheek, "you deserve a break."

"Way ahead of you," Alin replied with a wink, "I went over to Toni's apartment to hide the books and he said I looked like a zombie and was not allowed to come to work tonight," his smile faltered, "I can't help but feel slightly offended by that." Alin now worked as a bartender at Toni's pub, since Alfred had quit to pursue his own career, and loved it. He enjoyed being surrounded by people and laughter and chatter, and booze. The one downside was that the pair of them were usually at home at different times. Still, they always made sure to find time for each other.

"You do have a certain undead look about you," Tsvetan admitted, "but you're still one handsome devil. A tired face like that only comes from so much hard work, I guess." He looked around the main room, smiling as if to prove his point.

"You haven't seen the best bit yet," Alin brought Tsvetan back to reality, holding out a hand, which the other took gladly.

"Oh? Haven't I?" Tsvetan raised an eyebrow, smirking.

"Nope," Alin dragged Tsvetan into the spare room, formerly Alin's, now belonging to their future child. For the past few weeks, Tsvetan had been banned from setting foot in it per request from Alin, and he'd obeyed. He couldn't help but be more than a little worried as Alin opened the door; his partner's tastes could be more than a little eccentric, and his idea of cute didn't always match Tsvetan's… or society's. Nevertheless, he decided to put his faith in his husband's judgement.

"Ta-da!" Alin pushed the door open and Tsvetan gasped, covering his mouth with a hand.

Last time he'd seen the room, it had been an absolute tip, filled with boxes and dust, and certainly not fit for a baby. But now the peeling wallpaper had been removed, replaced with a dark red paint, the carpet cleaned and new furniture added. The walls were dotted with photographs of forest landscapes and animals. A tiny wooden cot sat in the corner under a mobile, and the shelves were filled with toys. A collection of stuffed animals took up one side whilst jigsaws, train sets and boats filled the other.

"I got my brother to send over our old playthings," Alin explained, "so they didn't cost anything. I bought the paint off Jan, which didn't cost too much since it was a little bit stolen."

"It's amazing, you're amazing," Tsvetan breathed, running his fingers along a collection of fairytales and children's story books packed tightly onto a wall shelf, along with a few ornaments and some CDs containing lullabies.

"In case you wear out your voice," Alin explained, quickly kissing his partner.

Tsvetan chuckled, following Alin as he pointed out more features of the room.

"Oh, and this is where we can put baby clothes, blankets and diapers," Alin rapped his knuckles against a chest of drawers before moving on to a rocking chair in another corner, "and here's where we'll give baby their bottle and rock them to sleep."

"And this?" Tsvetan tapped a horseshoe nailed onto the wall.

"Lucky charm," Alin told him, "I put a few around the place, to give a kid a head start and all. There's a dream catcher next to the window and I painted a shooting star onto the ceiling."

"So you did," Tsvetan murmured, looking up.

"I also got a bag of lucky gemstones," Alin held up a small pouch before placing it gently back on the shelf, "and a lucky coin." He held up a tiny coin for Tsvetan to see.

"That's an old ban," the other noted.

"Exactly," Alin grinned, "don't get many of those this side of the Atlantic, so it'll be special to the baby."

"If you say so," Tsvetan gave a warm smile, "but why all the luck charms. I know you're pretty superstitious, but this is a little insane, even by your standards."

Alin sighed, and seemed to age before Tsvetan's eyes as he smiled back sadly, tossing the coin in the air and catching it again; "I just don't want anything bad to ever happen to our child, that's all."

Tsvetan nodded as he gripped the cot with shaking hands, swaying slightly. "You know… you know they can't get us now. Those… bastards can't hurt us anymore." He remembered, in a terrible mixture of glumness and amusement, how it was usually Alin saying this, often after Tsvetan had woken up from a night terror, screaming, not knowing where he was until the man next to him woke up and tried to soothe him with promises of safety and solace. This time it was his husband looking at him uncertainly, anxious for reassurance.

"I know," he whispered, rubbing his arms through his jumper.

Their buzzer broke the silence, signalling that there was someone at the front door. Alin jumped slightly, before breaking into a breathless grin.

"It's time," he murmured.

…

Yeah a nice long chapter to start things off, huh?

Aww, they're all domestic and happy… I hate that.

Note: a ban is a Romanian coin, correct me if I'm wrong.