A/N: Fluffy sadness guys. Fluffy sadness.
Warning: Swearing. References to prostitution.
Gae-ta: I'm glad I saved the day! *SWOOSH!*
Darkdolly: Well done. Good assumptions. Maybe you're right, perhaps you're wrong. Who knows? ;)
thewannabe: *bows* Thank you, thank you! Haha!
Ashira21: You made me think of Ursula from the Little Mermaid with that line. Keep reading and maybe you'll get to see Variola get what's coming for him!
PsychoPanda: Oh, I'm glad you didn't forget. I know you reviewed chapter 9, but I'm answering you here. :D I hope I didn't disappoint!
CuteButTheDevil: Thanks for the review! I'll get on that VariolaXReese fic for you as soon as inspiration hits.
Chaos145: Oh dear, I made you cry? D: :3 Well... I can't say I'm displeased. I'm glad I invoked such strong feelings. I hope you enjoy this next part!
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It had been a few days since Ozzy had seen Thrax. His days were spent with Ariadne, exercising his injured limbs and watching the news. Reese's death was the top story, and the reporter had gotten the main story right, if wrong on a few details. They said it was a drug trade gone wrong, and an two officers were caught in the crossfire. Variola had escaped of course, and nobody had seen hide nor hair of him since then. The police were still scouring the rubble for bodies, but after finding Reese their hope had dwindled.
Ozzy didn't have anywhere to go anymore. By now his things would have been put into storage, his apartment already rented out to someone else with a low budget. Reese was gone, and Drix would be coming back to Frank to fill out papers and get the funeral ready. Ozzy didn't know if he was going, didn't know if he could take it. There was so much going on inside his brain he found it hard to concentrate on daily tasks that before had been mechanical. Thrax swam through his brain like a virus on steroids, never far from his thoughts and dreams.
After that night, when he'd heard the confession, Ozzy didn't know what to do with himself. He hated Thrax for making him see things the way he did now; he hated him for making him unable to look in the mirror in the morning. It was like a bullet shot straight at his heart; he knew it was coming but was unable to stop it. He tried, screaming at his body to move, but his feet wouldn't obey his will. The bullet would pierce through his heart and he knew then, that no matter what the truth was there.
He loved Thrax too.
It wasn't the power the man had, or his looks, or even his personality. It was all of that wrapped up together in the individual that was Thrax. It was in the subtle shrug of his shoulders when he was frustrated, in the gentle quirk of his lips when he smirked. The gleam in his golden eyes when he thought of something naughty, the low rumble in his chest when he laughed. The small actions, positioning himself to be ready to fight or flee at any moment, the way he scanned the area for any dangers. The way he seemed to make the center of his world Ozzy and no one else.
There was an enticing draw for the cop to the criminal.
But inevitably, when opposites collide nothing good is created. When the irresistible force meets the immovable object, the only thing it brings is chaos. They could never be together. Already, so much had been destroyed and tainted by their relationship, if it could be called that. People got hurt, bystanders that had nothing to do with it at all. People didn't just get hurt. They died.
How could he knowingly bring that upon the world?
Thrax stood for everything Ozzy was designed to fight against. He was the truth where he was the lies, the justice where there was crime. Ozzy couldn't just deny everything that made him, well... him. Especially not for someone like Thrax, no matter how much he desired to love him.
It was with these thoughts in mind that Ozzy climbed the stairs to the house above the infirmary. Ariadne had left earlier to get some more supplies from the hospital; he didn't know if she paid them or stole, but he decided to turn a blind eye. He did owe her his health, on more than one occasion. More than that, he had recently discovered where he'd seen her before, or rather, where he thought he'd seen her. Shar and Ariadne were sisters, Shar being the oldest. They had the same face and dark hair, he didn't know how he'd missed it for so long. Shar had left earlier in the morning, claiming to have unfinished business somewhere. Ariadne had started packing up her things, books and kitchenware, blankets and clothes. Ozzy guessed they were moving; Shar obviously had a falling out with Variola. It wasn't safe to be in her line of work, especially if your ex-boss had let you in on secrets and privy information.
The cop slouched down into an armchair with a sigh, looking peering out the one-way transparent curtains. The cream color let the sun shine in brightly, contrasting his mood like alive and dead. Ariadne was supposed to be home at any moment, and Ozzy had a few questions about her relationship with Thrax now, and prior to when Ozzy wasn't involved at all. But when her car drove up and parked in the lot, he knew the conversation wasn't going to go the way he hoped. The short woman got out of the car and slammed the door shut, looking for all intent and purposes like a pissed off smurf. Her face was flushed and her delicate eyebrows descending over her eyes, and when the opposite side door opened Ozzy knew why.
Thrax got out of the car graceful as ever, looking into the window as though he knew Ozzy was staring back at him. The man was still injured, his arm tucked into a sling beneath his coat. The sleeve hung limp at his side, empty and swaying as he walked. A pinprick of concern poked into Ozzy's heart but he hushed the rising spark, daring it to ignite. Keys entered locks and then the room held three.
"Hey Ozzy, we're back." Ariadne smiled, very aware of the tension rapidly building up in the air.
Thrax closed the door with a loud 'click' and then looked at Ozzy. The cop let his gaze wander, not able to look him in the face. He was angry that Thrax could just say he loved him like that, and then expect Ozzy to say the same. It was self-centered and greedy. He cleared his throat, "Yeah, welcome back."
A small silence, Thrax still daring Ozzy to meet his eyes and remaining stoic. Ariadne shuffled nervously, and Ozzy dug his nails into the thick fabric of the chair. And then, it was all broken by the least likely of sources.
"You know what guys? Grow the fuck up."
Ariadne had turned on both of them, slamming her foot into the wooded floor. She waited until both men had guilty looks on their faces, eyes downcast before continuing her tirade.
"You are both acting like children! Man up! Grow a pair! Goddamn, I'm going to get that stuff from the car. I will take it out back and come in that way. I am going to put it all away. If you guys haven't made up in that amount of time, so help me God!" That said, she strode out the front door and slammed it shut. A picture frame fell off the wall with a clatter, glass shattering.
Ozzy flinched at the sound, but Thrax was slow to respond. The darker skinned man walked towards the broken frame with measured steps, his boots heavy on the floor. Kneeling, Ozzy watched out of the corner of his eye as the crime lord picked it up, standing with a harsh intake of breath. He looked at the picture in his hands with a face of pure nostalgia, and perhaps envy.
"I remember when this was taken. We were still in Russia at the time," he murmured, stroking the photo with the back of his thumb. Ozzy remained unmoved. Thrax shook his head, a small smile on his lips, "They'd just seen a lion for the first time. There was a circus in town, Beezo's, I think it was." He took on a pained look then, closing his eyes and whispering, "I wish they hadn't followed me home that day."
"What do you mean?" Ozzy heard himself asked, slightly appalled that he had broken his own silence so easily. He didn't ever know who was in the picture. He saw though, when Thrax walked over and handed it to him. Two girls stared up at him, one holding bright pink cotton candy, the other holding two pinwheels. They both had a crazy looking hat on, and both looked like they were having the time of their lives. Turning it over and being cautious of the glass shards, he saw written in thin black ink, Shariana and Ariadne, the date blurred from a finger smudge.
"I was just starting out. It was before things got... complicated," he tasted the word, not caring for it in the slightest. Unable to pin point his exact meaning, he continued, "It was a few days before my flight to North America. I was picking up a few things before I headed back to my hotel..."
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Snow fell through the air languidly, the chill freezing skin on contact and threatening to give frostbite. Thrax emerged from the bakery with a loaf of rye, baked fresh that morning. There were many things people didn't know about him, one of them being his secret adoration for rye bread. Unlike other breads it didn't leave a bad aftertaste or get stuck in your teeth. The texture was always soft for the first few days, and though it lost freshness quickly it seldom stayed around that long when in Thrax's possession.
He tore off a large piece, black gloved hands speckled with crumbs, and shifted his scarf down to eat. He had just sunk his teeth into it as he rounded the corner, something bowling into him with a great force. His sturdy frame was the only thing that kept him from falling, and on reflex he reached out to snatch whatever it was. The 'it' turned out to be a child, and he held her by the scruff of her shirt. Which was odd, seeing as it was extremely cold out. She looked up at him in fear, before worming her way out of his grip and dropping his wallet to the ground as she did. Her face was disappointed as she scurried off into an alley across the street, narrowly dodging a few cars. Irked that a kid would dare take his wallet, and even moreso by the fact that she had managed it, he scooped it up and put it in his pocket. Making sure to look both ways, he crossed the street in a jog, sleet splashing up around his feet and soaking his socks.
Cold began creeping up his legs as he peered around the corner, narrowing his eyes to try and see in the dark better.
"Hello?"
There was no answer, and an icicle on the dumpster fell and shattered on the wet pavement. Thrax advanced with caution, eyes scanning for any sign of danger. A small scuffle like the sound of fabric against ground caught his attention, and he whirled to look beside the large crates to his left. What he saw made his heart ache.
Two girls identical in every way. They were children, barely ten years old if he had any guess to give. The taller of the two had her skinny arms wrapped tightly around the shorter, glaring at him through glassy eyes. Her lower lip trembled from cold and fear, and the child in her arms held onto her for dear life. Neither had a jacket, and the smaller was the only one with shoes. Their clothes were ratty and tattered, and they looked as though they had bathed in grime.
"Hey," he said gently, crouching down as best he could, "did you try and take my wallet just now?"
He knew it was her of course, but if it would get her to talk it was a step in the right direction. She blinked and stared at him angrily, turning herself so that the other girl was farther out of reach.
"I don't do that," she spat in Russian, her eyes darkening. Thrax raised an eyebrow in question, shifting a little on his feet. "Don't do what?"
Her eyes widened, surprised at the change from English to her native tongue. Shaking it off quickly, she gestured with her chin to his pants, trying to keep her face impassive and failing. She was scared.
It took Thrax a moment, but when he understood what she was getting at, he became furious. It must have shown on his face because both girls flinched, and the smaller began to cry into her sisters shirt. Licking his dry lips, Thrax stood and took off his scarf and leather gloves, crouching again and moving to hand them over. The girl glanced at the clothes and then back up uncertainly.
"It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you," he tried a smile, "You can have these." She took them after another moments hesitation, wrapping the scarf around both of them together and sighing at the warmth from Thrax's body heat. The gloves she slipped on the other girls hands, hiding her own beneath the scarf. She looked at him with bright green eyes then, full of youth and an unbreaking spirit that Thrax knew he had to help. "Thank you."
They were the only English words she knew, and in that moment they were enough.
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"After that they came with me to the hotel. I bought them some clothes and they stayed with me. I extended my stay for another few years, and then moved us here."
Thrax had moved to sit on the chair adjacent to Ozzy, who had sat back in his and tried to sink in it. Of course it had to be something tragic like that. Fuck. But he would stand firm in his decision, he couldn't afford to feel bad for hating him. Despite that, he cleared his throat and dared to ask, "How did Shar get involved with Variola?"
It was the first time he'd said the name in a while. It tasted foul on his tongue and he felt the urge to rinse his mouth out. But Thrax just shook his head, resting it on his hand and looking at nothing in particular.
"After a few years of being in Frank, they decided to cut themselves off from me and be independent. They felt like they owed me enough. They wouldn't listen. Ariadne was still young when Shar became a prostitute; all the money she made went to rent and saving up for her sister. Ariadne still doesn't know where all the money came from, unless she found out recently."
Ozzy nodded and put the photo on the table, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes. Neither said anything more for a time, and the cop wasn't keen on breaking the silence. He leaned forward and rested on his hands, elbows on his knees.
Thrax watched him carefully, looking for any sign of a flight response. He knew he had to play his cards carefully. Ozzy was a ticking time bomb not unlike the one they had narrowly escaped from. He loved him, he wanted him to be with him always. Thrax was a greedy man, he knew that himself; he always got what he wanted. For now though, he decided on a cautious approach.
"Ozzy?"
The cop grunted, not looking up from the floor.
"I want to ask you something."
Silence.
"But before I do I need to tell you something."
Not a word. Thrax swallowed the lump in his throat, startled to find his heart beating rapidly.
"I want you to stay with me."
Ozzy looked up then, his eyes narrowed. He refrained from speaking, waiting for Thrax to finish. The darker of the two looked hesitant for a minute, and then steeled himself to speak the words he knew he had to.
"Will you come with me to Russia?"
There was another pause, and this time Ozzy broke it. A grin broke out on his face, and he jumped to his feet. He laughed, spinning in circles before rounding on the sitting man, his next words dripping with deadly sarcasm.
"Of fucking course I will! Of course I will, Thrax! Let me just call in to work and let them know," he paused to take a breath, "and let them know that I'm running off to a different country with a crime lord!" He ran his fingers through is hair, scratching at his facial hair as he dragged his nails down in frustration. He paced for a minute, and then snarled, "I will never go anywhere with you."
Thrax stood, unwilling to hear anymore. He strode towards Ozzy and slammed him up against the wall, staring down into his eyes. The cop found himself shocked to see genuine hurt there in the golden depths, a sorrow he thought the man incapable of. And then lips were on his, not demanding or hard, but soft and gentle and so full of love he thought it might spill over the brim. Thrax tasted like he always did, of spice and pure, molten warmth.
Ozzy did not return the favour.
Thrax pulled away, reaching up to stroke Ozzy's cheek with the back of his hand. His eyes drifted to the mans lips and then back up, hopeful. But when his desire held firm in the negative, he turned away.
Ariadne walked in from the kitchen in that moment, to see Thrax with his head low and Ozzy trying his best not to cry. She kept quiet, but had already been seen, and the crime lord walked towards her with heavy steps. Each footfall got farther from Ozzy, who wanted so badly to tell him to come back. He kept his mouth shut and bit his tongue, crossing his arms and leaning back against the wall. He watched Thrax stop beside Ariadne, both exchanging a look.
"All I wanted," he said softly to her, "was to be the reason for the smile on his face." She turned her head to the side, opening her mouth to speak; he continued. "I didn't think I would get a chance at being happy in this life, not after you and Shar," he smiled sadly, "and now I know it's true."
That said, he strode out the door.
"Wait, Thrax! Hey!" Ariadne ran after him, tripping on her feet and managing to catch the door before it slammed shut, "Thrax!"
Ozzy closed his eyes and slid down the wall, trying to block everything out. The sound of tires screeching against pavement, of Ariadne's begging voice, of Thrax's words from last night.
"I love you."
His heart clenched with words he could never say.
Come back, I love you too. I want you in my life. Thrax, come back. Please come back.
Tears threatened.
I love you too.
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A/N: Alrighty. I did as you asked; I have managed to turn a few more chapters into a few more. As a result, this one is a bit shorter by a thousand words. The rest might be, but it also means I can crank them out faster. Love you guys! Keep reviewing!
Let's get to 50 before the end. We can do it!