April, the month where third years prepare for university or a career. It's also the month which students who plan on going to a University in a foreign country begin to wait. In the Russian's case, they neither prepared nor waited. They didn't even wait until the end of the Japanese school year to leave for Russia. After the failure of the mil-sim match, they boarded the plane that took their comrades overseas and went straight home. No paperwork was written, nothing was signed. They just got on with all of their things and left.

"Dmitri. Let's go. Mama and Papa are waiting for us," Vasily held out a train ticket to his brother, his hand shook slightly when it was outstretched.

"Yeah, alright," Dmitri took the ticket and slipped it through the machine, and then passed the threshold into the Moscow metro. Vasily followed him through and adjusted the bag on his back.

"We really didn't have much with us, did we?" A weak chuckle came from the younger brother as he quickly caught up with Dmitri.

"Nothing much that was important, anyway," Dmitri stuffed his hands into his pockets, walking down the stairs and feeling the fresh rush of that familiar metallic air.

"I'll miss them..." Vasily said sorrowfully, "I don't want to go back to a school without them. They were our brothers, we-" Dmitri turned around at the bottom of the stairs and stared at his younger brother. The random flow of commuters muttering unintelligible comments of annoyance by the brothers' sudden stop.

"They're dead, Vasily," the older boy paused, looked down at his clenched fists and then back up to his brother. "We couldn't do anything about it back then, so we can't do anything about it now. What matters is that we are alive, nothing else." Turning back and continuing to walk, Dmitri swallowed the growing lump in his throat. He forcefully detached himself from Mischa's, Grigory's, and Yuri's deaths so he could remain that stoic and strong figure for his younger brother. He didn't want to breakdown in front of him, he didn't want to show weakness to him.

It was bad enough that when they first joined Pravda he had his younger brother speak for him, it was humiliating and embarrassing. None of the boys wanted their commander to be silent, Grigory and Mischa were talking about him behind his back. Dmitri, despite his closest comrades' comments, finally got a grip of himself and assumed the leader of the group, just like he had back in Russia, Poland, and Germany.

Dmitri stepped onto the platform that was due northbound with his brother, staring at the poster on the other side of the tunnel. The hustle and bustle of the Moscow metro wasn't surprising, it was about midday during the week so people had business that they were attending. Everyone has a life, a story, something that makes them 'them'. Every person has a defining feature or two that makes them hugely separate from everyone else, everyone is an individual.

The train arrived at the platform and the doors opened. Some people got off, and Dmitri and Vasily stepped to the side for them to easily leave. Once they got off, the brothers walked in and found two seats to sit on. You could tell they were brothers because of their hair and their eyes. They were almost exactly the same colours. Dmitri had his hair shorter than Vasily's, he kept it short so it wouldn't get too much in the way of his Shlemofon. Vasily, however, had his hair long and wore it in a messy ponytail that hung loosely at his nape. Some strands of his hair swept along at the sides of his face and he never made an effort to push them away.

Their eyes were a milk-chocolate brown. They were soft eyes. Vasily's were kinder than Dmitri's, but that was mainly because he was a nicer person than his older brother. As much as those brown orbs were kind, what they had seen in their time in the army wasn't. It wasn't just the death, but the betrayal of their comrades that they saw too often. Infantry was sacrificed likes pawns. In Dmitri's eyes, all of the infantry he met were faceless bodies that could talk. He made no effort to care for them if they weren't an officer.

"Do you think Mama and Papa will be happy to see us?" Vasily spoke up after 10 minutes of staring at their feet. The train had already left the metro and they had just left the third station.

"Papa will be," Dmitri replied with a hopeful voice, "I know he will be for sure."

"And Mama?" Vasily looked up to his right at his brother's face, searching for some faith in their mothers' love for them.

"She'll probably be too busy with work to care," a deep exhale left Dmitri. He leaned back into the seat and started reading the map of the trainline. Vasily and Dmitri had caught up with their family whilst they were in Pravda, fully expecting the original phone number to be the same. It wasn't, and they had to search through their school files to find their parents' numbers. They called home and their father had picked up. He was happy to hear from them and asked a lot of questions. They asked to talk with their mother, but their father went quiet;

'She's busy at the moment, I'm sorry boys. Call another time and I'm sure she'll talk to you... anyway, how has school been?'

That's how it was for the next few calls. She never talked to them. What could have been more important than her own children?

She did talk once, however. It was only for a short amount of time, just a few sentences worth of conversation was passed between Vasily and their mother. She had spoken with a dry tone, like she was already bored of the conversation. Perhaps she didn't care.

"Why does she never talk to us?" Questioned Vasily, his hands curling into fists.

"I don't know, but I don't care anymore," returning his gaze to his booted feet, Dmitri rolled his heel around on the carriage floor.

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Dmitri and Vasily made it to the front door of their new home. They had never lived in Moscow before, and when measuring up the size of the building, they realised they were born into some considerable wealth. Dmitri lifted his hand up to press the buzzer, but before his finger could land the door was unlocked and swung open.

A sweet smell flushed out and hit the brothers, it was a raspberry smell and they instantly recognised the warmth it brought with it. A jovial-looking, burly man stood at the door with a huge grin. He was shorter than the brothers perhaps by a head, but just by his looks they knew he was their father.

"My boys!" He shouted, grabbing them both and tugging them into a tight hug. He smelled like raspberries and tobacco smoke. "Ah, it's so good to see you! You've grown since the last time I saw you."

"Hello, Papa. It's good to be back," Dmitri returned the hug. His old memories of his father had linked well with this one, like a perfect match but only about 80 years later.

"Is that Grandmama's Raspberry Kompot I can smell?" Vasily's smile was blinding, and he was beginning to let his nose lead him into the house.

"It is! I thought I'd welcome you both home with a hot mug of Kompot. I'm sure there's a lot to talk about. Come in, don't stand out there all day!" With a hearty laugh, their father stepped to the side and let the brothers enter the premises. Now taking a longer look at him, their father seemed like a very relaxed man. He was wearing a light blue polo that was snug around his shoulders and showed off his large arms. He was also wearing a pair of khaki cargo shorts that showed probably too much pale leg. His brown hair, the same colour as Dmitri's and Vasily's, was cut quite short at maybe a grade 2.

Dmitri and Vasily walked into the house and let their noses guide them through. It was their first time in this building, yet they felt like they had spent all of their lives here. Taking off their boots at the door and neatly packing them away, the brothers excitedly went into the kitchen and found the brewing pot of homemade love. They hovered their noses over the pot and let the sugary smells enter their heads, happily reliving memories just from the smell alone.

"It hasn't finished yet, so why don't you get comfortable in the living room? I'll call your mother down too and we'll sit together as family," their father moved a towel from his back pocket onto the marble counter and then left the room.

"This is not what I expected our home to be like..." Vasily whispered after their father left the room, unzipping his jacket and pulling it off. Dmitri and Vasily walked through the other doorway and entered the living room. It was furnished with rich red sofas and a dark oak coffee table. The walls were papered with a red and golden floral pattern, suggesting once again the wealth that their parents had. What exactly were their jobs?

Plopping himself down into one of the few armchairs, Vasily made himself comfortable and looked around the room some more. There was a large painting of Putin on the opposite wall, sided by two tall bookshelves filled to the brim with new and old books. To the right were windows overlooking the street, and to the left was a doorway to another room.

"Hey, d'ya think the reason Mama is so cold with us is because she's secret service or something?" Vasily whispered to his brother. Although it sounded silly, he was totally serious. It would explain the wealth and her emotions towards them but it seemed unlikely.

"I think I remember seeing somewhere that she worked for the Kremlin and that was it, so it might be likely. We shouldn't talk to lightly about stuff like that, you know what happens to people who do." Both of them paused for a moment and Vasily retreated into his chair. "I know Papa is an official for the Russian Tankery Federation, so that could be a reason for their wealth. I'm pretty sure he used to be an officer in the army too..." Dmitri scratched his chin in thought, and as he thought he read the numerous titles lining the bookshelves on the far wall.

"Welcome home. It's been a while," a tall, black-haired woman dressed in a white shirt, black jacket, and black pencil skirt entered the room with their father. She was serious, both her looks and her aura. It was uninviting and intimidating. Vasily and Dmitri both made a mental note never to piss her off.

"Mama, I missed you," Vasily got up and hugged her, receiving an equally love-filled hug in return.

"I missed you too, I'm sorry I never found the time to talk to you, but I'm busy a lot of the time. I will try to spend more time with you two, but I can't guarantee that I will have a lot of time," there was a saddened look on her face, like she was regretful for not having much time to call her own two sons. That was when it clicked in Dmitri's mind: she only seemed cold because Dmitri and Vasily said she was. She only seemed distant because she barely had any time to talk to them. They misjudged her and their opinions of her softened.

"It's alright, we were busy with training too so it couldn't really be helped," Dmitri got up too and walked up to both his parents.

"You've become a man now, Dmitri. You really have grown up. I'm sorry I didn't get you anything for your 18th..." there was a genuine sincerity in her voice as she spoke, she was seriously upset with her own lack of connection with her eldest son and she was showing it. Was this just an act put on or was this serious? Vasily's comment about secret service swam around in his mind as well as his own doubts.

"It's alright, Mama. I spent it well with Vasily and...and..." my crew. The memory of him spending time with his friends around a fire late at night with bottles of vodka all in their hands smacked rushed into his head, and now he realised he could never make memories like that with them. Boys he knew for over a decade were now gone, and he couldn't do anything to help them.

His vision suddenly got cloudy and his knees became weak. This was the breaking point, and he couldn't hold it in anymore. He was home now, and he could let it out.

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"Ma said she'd be waiting for me. God, I hope she isn't loud when she sees me," Jason thought to himself, pulling some luggage behind him and beginning to turn the corner into the main hall. As soon as the people waiting could be seen, he instantly recognised a family of four with crazy red hair. Yep, that must be them.

"Jason!" The red-headed woman yelled, throwing her arms up in the air at the sight of him. Immediately regretting telling his parents his time of arrival, Jason groaned loudly and slumped his posture. His mum ran up to him and pulled him into a tight hug, rocking him from side to side. Trying not to get choked to death, Jason held his breath so it couldn't get squished out of him.

"Ooh ets so good to see ya! Ma wee boy has come back home!" Sophia, Jason's mother, pulled away from her son and beamed at him. "Let's get ye home!" Behind Sophia, Jason could see Jay, his father. Jason was taken aback when he realised that Jay closely resembled his own father, Robert. Jason was incredibly comfortable with Sophia because she looked so much like his mother. A pit formed in Jason's chest and the memories of Robert being abusive towards him resurfaced. Was it the same? Was it the same in this time too, where Jason was abused by his father?

Lilith and Eve seemed like they didn't want to be at the airport, and they didn't smile when Jason caught their gazes. He thought to himself that maybe the original Jason had upset them in some way, or they didn't want to show that they cared in a public place. They were surprisingly tall and weren't exactly what he expected. They looked fit and healthy, and their figures reminded him of the female rugby players he had seen whilst surfing the TV channels. They both had shoulder-length, curled, orange hair, like fire flowed effortlessly off their heads. To Jason, they intimidated him and he couldn't work out whether they were older or younger than him.

"Ah, let me take your luggage for ya," Jay walked up to Jason and offered to drag the luggage for him. Jason stared up at him and took a step back. He was surprised at how friendly he was because he looked so much like his original father, but he was still incredibly cautious of him; as if he were stepping on eggshells around him. Jay's accent was a lot tamer than Sophia's, and he kept a calm voice. Although he sounded calm, the beaming smile on his face said otherwise.

Both his new parents seemed to be very happy he was home, and this was the kind of welcome Jason wished for. Yet he held so many doubts in his mind. Jay and Sophia looked a lot like his original parents, and it scared him. He was so ok with Sophia because he hadn't seen Olivia in over 30 years, almost 40. It frightened him, but this family was kind to him.

A loving family was something he always dreamed of. Even when his original mother, Olivia, gave him unconditional love for him he hoped that his father would one day at least show an ounce of love to his only son.

This was better, far better. Jason no longer lived in the 1940s, he now lived about 80 years in the future with a family that showed it cared by picking him up at the airport. In full honesty, he was expecting to arrive and take a bus or train to the town north of Edinburgh but instead, they came to pick him up.

That was when he began to realise that he was not the true son of Jay and Sophia or the brother of Lilith and Eve, but in some twisted way, he was related to them from higher up. He married someone after the war and had kids of his own, but here he was in an 18-year-old body in Edinburgh 80-something years after the war. It didn't make any more sense to him now than it did a year ago when he first arrived in Japan. He still hadn't made any progress on the cause of this all, and he needed to get back in contact with Rudy.

He began thinking over the character of the body he has. His great-grandson. That was a weird thought. He wondered where he was now, and he was either dead or switched places with him in 1945 Germany.

He shivered at that thought, hoping in some way that he was safe and he didn't come under any harm. But what if this all happened because of this? There was that multiverse theory Seamus once talked about, but Jason didn't make much sense of any of it. All he got from it was that there are an infinite amount of possible realities where stuff happened and where stuff didn't happen.

'Pfftt, fuck it. It dusnae make sense and I have more important things to think about right now, like settling into my new family. That makes me sound like I was adopted. Heh. Weird. I could really do with a drink about now.'

There was a half an hour drive from the airport to the house. It wasn't big, nor small. It was quite an average-sized, semi-detached house on the corner of a road. There was a minute walk from the house to the nearest shop, which was just a local store that sold basic essentials and getting into the town centre would have been a ten-minute walk. It wasn't far from the station either, maybe a five-minute walk. Basically, it was perfectly situated and Jason's parents did it deliberately.

Lilith and Eve officially welcomed home their brother after he had unpacked most of his stuff and had somewhat settled down. They were a lot nicer than he made them out to be, but there was still some... hostility behind their tones. After inspecting the house more, he looked over all of the photographs of the family, seeing Jay and Sophia when they were younger, baby Jason and the twins, then some more photos that there would usually be in a family household.

The photographs that interested him the most were the ones of his grandfather and great-grandfather. Major Thomas Stevenson seemed like a highly decorated soldier of the British army, one photograph depicted him in full uniform; black watch kilt, khaki jacket and the black Balmoral cap. He was standing in front of a house, which went parallel with his memory of the farmhouse he lived in, far north in Scotland.

"Oi, smelly, yer girlfriend is callin' ya," Lilith stood at the top of the stairs with his phone in her hand, waving it about at shoulder height.

"Ah, cheers," Jason turned from the wall of photographs, then got his phone thrown at him. An immediate shock of fear coursed through his body as he lurched forward to catch the phone. It hit his palm and bounced around as if he were juggling it. He caught it and accepted the call.

"Hey Darj, what's up?"

"Just wanted to make sure you got home safe. Did you?" On the other side of the call, some cars could be heard passing.

"Aye, got home about quarter of an hour ago, maybe. You settled in nicely too?" Jason climbed the stairs, feeling the velvety soft carpet under his feet. It was something different from the creaky floorboards and the cold stone he was used to.

"Mhm, so far so good. I'm doing a little bit of exploring at the moment, such a wonderful city,"

"Never been, but I know it's a nice place," passing Lilith on the landing, Jason gave her a side-eye then entered his room.

"I'm sure by the time you're here I'll have lots to show you,"

"I'm countin' on it," Jason sat down at his desk and picked up a pen.

"There was something else I wanted to say but I can't remember... hm. Ah! Yes, there was somebody at the Uni that claimed they knew you? His name was Rudy. It rings a bell..."

"Rudy? He's enrolled at Cambridge?" The Scot's voice became incredibly inquisitive, he was curious and showed it by leaning forward in his chair.

"Mm, yeah, he said he had something to talk to you about. Do you know what it might be?"

"Some vague ones, aye. But it dusnae matter right now," Jason twirled the pen around in his fingers, then heard a knock on the door. He swivelled in his chair towards his door and saw Sophia standing there.

"Hiya, dunnae want to interrupt yer call but I'd like to remind ye that we're goin' to see yer Grandad tomorrow. Ye'll be aw'right fer that, wontcha?" Sophia leaned against the door with a wide smile on her face. Jason paused for a second and then politely asked Darjeeling to wait a second.

"Uh, aye, sure. Tomorrow didje say?"

"Mhm, get an early night tonight, ok? Or... whatever... yer 18 now so you can do whate'er ye like. So yer aw'right with tomorrow?"

"Aye, Ma, tomorrow is fine,"

"Great," Sophia clasped her hands together in joy, "see ya," she waved to him before leaving his room, then was heard talking to the twins about it. Jason took a moment to think about it, maybe he could ask some questions about himself - or rather his greatgrandad, to Thomas and maybe get an explanation of some kind. He was sure he'd be able to find some photographs or documents that could help him.

"Jason? Are you ok? You suddenly went silent?"

"Hm? Aye, I'm fine, just tired," Jason leaned back in his chair, keeping his phone held close to his ear. He had a lot to think about, and a lot to take in. One of the main things to take in at the moment was his room, and now disorderly it is. Jason began writing a to-do list whilst he was at home for the next two months, because otherwise, he wouldn't have much to do at all other than wait.