Zangief's house was beautiful. He had to be taken home in a wheel chair, and left to sleep on the sofa until he was strong enough to move to his bedroom on the 2nd floor. Mika slept on the floor by his feet, waking up every 3 hours just to make sure he was still breathing. He had to take large amounts of painkillers and sleeping pills just to be able to sleep at all. (But with his weakened heart this made every night a gamble.)

He would always wake up before she did, groaning in pain, but not wanting to ask for help.

When she woke up she would make a protein shake for his breakfast, helping him to sit up. She would ask him what he wanted for lunch and dinner, sometimes they would talk about the weather, tv news,, or even what they dreamed about.

When he was done, she would administer painkillers while also using acupuncture to restore flexibility to his knee.

One say, out of the blue she asked an entirely new topic- "tell me about your mother" she asked. As a fan she already knew his mother worked in a factory and died in a freak accident when he was 12, (and he never knew his father.) After her death He was raised by his grandparents who lived in a cabin in the woods (and were the reason he learned to wrestle bears.) Sadly his grandparents also died before he made it big. His devotion to his country was his way of honoring their memory.

"I don't remember her much; as the years go by, it gets more and more difficult to see her face." He had no photos of her from his lifetime. When his grandparents died he received a photo album but the closest/most relevant picture he could find was of her at age 16- 10 years before she got pregnant. He kept that photo in a safe, to have any kind of memory of her.

"It's ok." mika said. Usually she would ask him to try to stand but she felt it would be too much. She laid her head down on his chest, while massaging his leg.

"you never told me about your family." he said, trying to relax.

"not much to say." she hated talking about her family, but she decided to do it anyway. "I left home when I was 18. My mom calls sometimes to make sure I'm still alive, but I'm kind of all about my career. And I haven't called her since I came to Russia." she said with a laugh. Her mom was probably pissed, but she didn't care, this was her choice and her family never would have understood.

She cooked lunch, she cooked dinner and through it all they just talked.

Then 4 months in to her stay she went shopping. That would prove to be a nightmare.

He wanted to be able to walk; it would be the first step towards regaining his iconic strength. He stood up and took a few steps. Mika's treatments had helped immensely, he could walk on his own, so he tried to go up the stairs. After just a few steps he collapsed from pain. He had slightly twisted his knee, and he could suddenly not out any weight on his leg.

He experienced sadness like he had never felt before. He pulled himself to his feet, then to the kitchen where he drank an entire bottle of vodka. But it didn't help. He went to the sofa where she kept the painkillers and took two bottles worth- and collapsed. If he could not be the person he once was-he didn't want to live.

Mika came home 1 hour later and screamed. She somehow managed to call the police (despite not speaking Russian) and he was later resisted.

What he saw in the hour he laid unconscious changed him. He saw his mother's face. She was young and beautiful, but dressed in the same cloths she died in; a factory worker's uniform, covered in ashes and blood. Her brown hair was in a low ponytail, but as she walked towards him she changed. her hair turned blonde, her cloths melted away in to Mika's blue costume, but with giant glowing angel wings.

"let her love you..." she said in a voice he had not heard in decades. Then he woke up in the hospital to a very different voice.

"You bastard! I left my career for you! I came to Russia for you! And you were going to just leave me!" she said weakly hitting him in the chest. "I love you, I believe in you-all of your fans believe in you - and you were just going to give up?!"Mika could not stop the tears. His death would have been the end of her.

"I am not longer the red cyclone" was all he said.

"you can't possibly believe that. I won't let you." she held his hand. She needed a way to show him he was still strong.

3 days later, when he was finally allowed to go home, Mika had an (erotic) idea to boot his confidence.