Of Books and Crime
Author's Note: I'm really sorry for missing updates! It's just that I started a new job and I've been pretty busy!
Warning: Chapter contains some controversial topics, so please read with caution. There will be graphic depiction of violence, as well as child abuse and heavy angst.
Strongly homophobic language. If you're easily affected by such themes, please be careful when going through the flashbacks (written in Italics).
Chapter 18: Silver Lining
Alin is hectic that night, dark brown eyes wide in horror as he takes in the beaten state Nikolai is in.
It's one of those moments when you just stare, unsure what to do. He feels frozen for a few lengthy moments before the scream tears away from his lips.
"What happened?!" he gasps, stepping in closer to his boyfriend, in an attempt to help.
Nikolai flinches, almost as if he's afraid he might hurt him. The Romanian shudders at the sight, something in his heart snaps when he sees the other so broken.
He takes a deep, shaky breath, trying to calm down his breathing. He needs to get his act together, think straight.
What Ivanov needs is to have his injuries checked.
"I'll call for help," he says in a haste, fishing for his phone, hands trembling.
It's then that he feels the familiar strong hand over his arm,
"No, you won't." the Bulgarian all but deadpans, "There's no fucking way I'm going to a hospital."
"Why not?"
"Because they ask questions there."
Alin opens his mouth to protest but realizes the other does have a point. He sighs in defeat,
"Okay, let's take you inside then."
He supports Nikolai as best as he can, horrified by his injuries and careful not to jar them. He helps him sit at the couch, taking in the various bruises that litter the Bulgarian's pale skin.
Hastily googling his injuries and applying an ice pack made of frozen beans, his heart constricts in sympathy.
The Bulgarian doesn't say anything, green eyes set on something distant.
"What happened?" Alin asks once again, voice softer this time as he sits on the couch next to his boyfriend and takes in his right hand into his palm. His left fist is swollen, knuckles bloodied.
"Did-did Radko's dealer to this or something?" he wonders out loud, mind drawing various scenarios in thick, broad strokes.
Niko chuckles bitterly, breaking away from his catatonic state for the first time that evening.
"No, Radko did this himself,"
Popescu's entire being is filled with anger and disgust directed at the dark haired Serb. He's not a violent person, not by any means but he can't stop the images that flood his mind. The other needs to pay, and he'll see to it that he does.
There's something oddly horrible and disgusting in the fact the Serbian has lured Nikolai in by asking for help. He texted SOS, as if begging for assistance, only to fight the Bulgarian.
But Alin represses the desire for justice for the moment, he needs answers first and foremost.
"Why did you two fight?"
Ivanov looks away, light eyes full of resignation,
"Why do you think?" he scoffs, as if the answer should be obvious, "He fucking find out about us."
"What?!" Alin half shouts out, shock washing over him.
He has no issue with others knowing, hell if it was up to him they would. But he realizes it's dangerous for Nikolai, he grasps the kind of threat his family poses.
"How?" is all he can ask, voice small and weak.
"How?" the Bulgarian snaps, looking up to him, "Your fucking buddy Francis blabbered his fat mouth, that's how!"
"Wait, what!?"
But then… when he thinks about it, sadly it makes sense. His mind starts putting the pieces together and they all fit together, fleshing out the bigger picture.
The three missed calls from Francis… The blonde must have called to warn him, he must have suspected some shit like this would happen…
"Francis told someone and now the whole fucking school probably knows if Radko of all people heard of it."
Why would the French tell anyone in the first place? Alin feels a pang of anger, mixed in with betrayal somewhere in his chest but he buries it down, for now.
At the moment, he has more pressing matters at hand, taking care of the other is the top priority. His dark brown eyes trail over Nikolai, full of worry and sympathy.
"You should see the other guy," Ivanov tries to joke but it falls flat, "Seriously though I taught that piece of shit a lesson."
The Romanian attempts to smile but it's no use. Radko deserves to be sent in a correctional facility. No amount of getting beaten up is going to change him and he must be held accountable for his actions.
"Don't look like that," Niko grunts, "I'm not gonna die or some shit. Probably just a few broken ribs. Nothing to be scared about."
Alin wants to argue because he's terrified but he merely nods and jumps into further action.
The Bulgarian guides him in his ministrations. He tells him how to apply take care of the injuries and how to do the bandages just right. The Romanian realizes just how many times he must have been in this situation – being taken care of after a fight, or stitching up Ivan.
It makes him shudder but he scatters those thoughts away, he'll have to deal with them one day, just not today.
He gently wipes the blood off his eyebrow, mindful of the contact when a small hiss flies pass the lips of the other,
"I'm sorry," he mutters, "For this and for telling Francis. If I hadn't this would have never happened,"
"Don't be, he would've found out anyway I guess."
Alin looks up, meeting his eyes in surprise. He sees determination in those green irises he has come to love.
But it's then that he thinks of something that sends chills down his spine,
"Was Ivan part of this too?"
Because if he is, they're both in trouble. Alin knows Radko is a sadist and a monster that needs to be held in check but at least he's not as strong as Ivan. If the Russian knows about them, the situation is a thousand times worse.
Nikolai takes his head in his hands and then offers a small shake, no.
"Radko…he won't tell him."
Alin cocks an eyebrow, surprised by the fact,
"Why would he do that? Makes no sense…"
The Bulgarian snickers, the sound bitter on his lips.
"He would never do anything fucking nice for me…" he points out, "Hell, the only reason I'm alive now is probably because he knows Ivan would be mad if he were to kill me…"
Popescu opens his mouth to argue, offer comfort, say that's not true.
But it is.
The Serbian absolutely despises him, it's just a fact. There is no point in arguing it.
"Though…if Ivan finds out I'm Bi…well, maybe he would want me dead as well."
Nikolai's voice breaks, a shell of what it normally is. Alin's heart sinks to the floor as he hears those words.
The Bulgarian is a wreck, tears pricking in his eyes. It breaks something in Popescu to see him this way. He can't even imagine having to deal with his own family hating him for being gay.
Well…his own father would probably hate him for it, had he stuck around long enough to find out.
But Niko though…he has to deal with it, has to live with the burden of knowing the only people who care about you are quick to reject you, kick you the curb the minute they find out there's something in you they don't find good or right.
That's not entirely true though, the Bulgarian isn't alone, has him. A wave of determination washes over Alin - one way or another he'll fight for the boy, no matter what it takes.
"Hey," he begins, scooping closer to him, "Don't you dare think you're alone in this. Because you're not, you have me."
Niko nods but still doesn't speak up, as if he's not secure enough in himself to believe him.
"You have me and mum and Sorina," he continues, "And we can be your family, so long as you want to,"
"I do," the Bulgarian mutters, conviction behind the words, "But I shouldn't. I'm a fuck up, Alin! Everyone I go near to ends up pushing me away!"
The Romanian shakes his head no,
"Look you've had a bad childhood and mine wasn't all sunshine and rainbows either but…our whole lives are ahead of us. There's something hopeful about that, isn't there?"
Nikolai looks away and Alin can see the desire in his eyes to believe him. But there is hesitation too, as if he's asking him to jump of the rail and the boy isn't quite sure if he'll catch him.
"And just cause Radko is a damn monster and Ivan lives in the 15th century when it comes to his beliefs…That, that doesn't mean everyone will judge you or hate you."
The taller teen sighs and he can feel some of the tension melt away from him.
They stay in silence for a few long moments and Alin starts thinking, he starts putting up a plan. Seeing the other broken – it has triggered something in him, awakened something that was buried deep down his mind. Determination sprouts in his chest and he knows he has to act.
"But, Niko…" he begins, voice gentle but words full of conviction, "You can't stay there. I get that you care about Ivan and you think he saved you or whatever…but Radko could kill you next time."
The Bulgarian opens his mouth to argue, to assure him no doubt that's not true but the words die on his lips.
"This…this isn't the first time this has happened," he admits in the end, voice small and barely above a whisper, a leftover of what it usually is.
xxx
Nikolai is fifteen when it happens. He's working at the bar, with Ivan and Katya by his side and Radko being an endless idiot.
It's still a pleasant routine, something that grounds him like an anchor in a sea of turmoil. He enjoys serving the bar, takes odd pleasure in mixing different kinds of liquids together until they produce the desired result.
What he loves the most though is the people. The various customers he chats with, the way they tell him their stories, let themselves be vulnerable and real after the third glass of cheap vodka.
For the past few months he's gotten closer to one of the customers, a guy from Bulgaria. Nikolai is ecstatic to have someone from his motherland, it has been so long since he's last seen a compatriot.
Sure Radko and Ivan are a pretty close thing but never quite the same.
The guy's name is Dimitar, a tall and good looking guy from Ruse. Seventeen, almost eighteen as the summer is fast approaching.
He's hot in that Eastern European fashion Nikolai can suppose – face a little red, light blue eyes sparkling with mischief all the time and dirty blonde hair.
Dimitar, or Mitko, as he asks everyone to call him is all laughs and jokes most Americans would deem offensive as hell. He drinks like a pro, the only one who can compete with him and Ivan.
Still…there is something different about him that Niko can't quite put his finger on. It's almost as if the guy is hiding a secret…not in a bad way, just as if he's not revealing everything about himself to the world.
Like wearing a mask…yeah that's what it is. And sometimes, when they're really drunk the mask slips down a little and he can see a portion of who he really is.
Nikolai likes him, he's easy going and fun to have around and he's pretty sure Dimitar feels the same. There are times when his blue eyes linger over him, as if searching for the answer of a question he doesn't dare ask out loud.
xxx
Ivan and Radko on the other hand despise the guy from the moment they meet him. Niko can understand why the Serb hates him – after all he hates ALL Bulgarians, no exceptions.
But Ivan though… it doesn't make sense. When he asks the older boy he only offers vague answers,
"There's something wrong with the guy, I can feel it," Braginski replies, pale blue eyes squinted in contempt.
Nikolai shrugs it off, not like he has to agree on everything with the Russian.
xxx
It's a warm evening in late May when Dimitar shows up and has one drink too many.
The bar is quiet, it's Monday so there aren't many people to show up. The few customers are already passed out drunk, clinging onto vodka bottles in their sleep as they murmur nothings in native tongues.
Ivan is completely out of it, drifting off on one of the tables as Katya shakes her head over him in worry and resignation. Radko is missing and for that Niko is glad, at least the Serbian won't be starting a fight. For now.
What happens…it all happens in a flash.
One moment Dimitar leans in towards him, catches his hand. There is a questioning look in his blue eyes, one that asks for permission.
And Niko nods. On instinct, without thinking it though.
He does it purely out of want and maybe need. There's this deep desire hidden somewhere inside him. He doesn't think about it, doesn't act on it. But now…now when the other is so close he can no longer suppress it.
He doesn't know why but he does what he does. There's no logical explanation to it. He's liked the guy and he's drunk himself, his actions softer around the edges, vision a little blurry.
Drunk and high, never a good combination. But Radko has insisted they do it and he has agreed, the way he always lets him drag him into trouble.
Dimitar then kisses him, a harsh and sudden gesture, chapped lips colliding with his own.
He feels the familiar burn of alcohol on his tongue, something he's sure he tastes of himself. And from then on…he doesn't even remember most of it, except he ends up in the bathroom with Dimitar's hands all over him.
"Never been with a man before?" the older Bulgarian demands and Niko shakes his head no on autopilot.
"It's…it's wrong to be with a guy," he manages to say, words Ivan has said a million times having become ingrained in his brain.
"I…" Dimitar pauses, blue eyes soaked in fear, "Знам, знам…* but…I, I – just I want it so much…don't you?"
Nikolai takes him in, his looks, the emotion behind those eyes. He does want it and so he nods.
The blue-eyed Bulgarian takes it from there, shortening the distance between them and kissing him once again, this time deeper. Their movements are desperate, hopeless, out of time. There never could be a time for them, people like them don't get to do this.
Nikolai realizes there are plenty of gay or bi men over the world who are proud and free and have no issue showing the world who they are…But those men are American and English or German or Italian…Never Bulgarian or Russian, never Eastern European.
They're not allowed to do this, their own societies would have them beaten up black and blue for it. But he does want it, he wants it for just that one time.
The kiss is hot and wet and it makes him turned on, having Dimitar pine him against the wall.
He doesn't love him, no not at all. Maybe he doesn't even know him. He just wants this short lived moment of pleasure so bad it almost hurts to think about walking away.
His hands dive under his T-shirt and explore the smooth, pale skin,
"Feels good, right?"
"Да," Nikolai pants out and-
The door opens. Ivanov's heart slams against the floor hard as he meets Radko's gaze.
The Serbian is drunk out of his mind but he sobers up in seconds, the shock burning away the alcohol haze and replacing it with pure rage.
Nikolai has known him a long time and he knows he's downright evil but this…Never before has he expected to see the other so blinded by anger.
Radko screams and swears and he can' make out what he's saying. Before he even realizes what's going on he forces Dimitar against the wall so hard Niko can't be sure he doesn't crack his skull.
And he punches him over and over and over again.
There's so much blood in mere seconds and all Ivanov can do at first is scream. It takes a few seconds for him to sober up, for his instincts to kick in. After the initial shock and shame he jumps in, praying Radko away from the other Bulgarian.
He pulls him off Dimitar but at that point the blonde is already on the ground, face covered in blood.
Katya rushes in with a scream, covering her mouth as she takes in the scene,
"What the fuck were you doing, you fucking gay freak?!" Radko demands, kicking the fallen Bulgarian,
"Radko, stop it, he's already down!"
The brunette boy turns around, brown eye burning with an odd mix of rage, hatred and disgust.
"And you!?" the Serbian's one remaining eye widens in what might be disappointment, "Why the fuck didn't you stop him!? Are you honestly this fucking drunk or high…"
Nikolai manages to take deep breath, trying desperately to calm himself. His green eyes dart between the lying Dimitar, barely conscious and Radko who shakes him hard before throwing him against the wall,
"Fucking answer me!" he demands,
Before he has the time to respond Radko hits him so hard he almost doubles down,
"You couldn't fight or-or…Why the fuck were you kissing a fucking man!?" the Serbian goes on, blinded by his rage.
"I…I, just-I"
"What's going on?"
It's Ivan that asks, leaning in against the door frame, apparently having just woken up from all the commotion. At first he doesn't seem too shocked or affected but then he seems to grasp the situation.
His pale blue eyes widen at the scene before him. He doesn't seem surprised or worried about Dimitar lying down on the floor but he does gasp at Radko who holds Nikolai against the wall in a death grip.
"Radko, what are you doing to Nikolai?!" he demands, marching to separate them.
The Serbian doesn't let go, he only tightens his grip on him, for once ignoring Ivan.
Nikolai wants to fight and he knows he can fight the other, he's just as strong if not stronger. But…he can't, not right now. His head spins with so many emotions, his thoughts a train wreck. His heart slams against his chest so loudly he feels as though it might be louder than the screaming. He can't even breathe all that well and he doesn't know what's happening.
Is he dying? Maybe a panic attack…he read about those once.
Radko's cold fingers are on his neck, demanding answers, literally strangling the truth out of him.
The Bulgarian chokes, black spots dancing over his vision. There's a tiny part of his mind that's afraid he might die then and there, he knows Radko is capable of it.
"I said fucking answer me what you were doing with that fag!"
It seems to be the final straw when he chokes for air, unable to speak.
Ivan moves in quickly and tears them apart, pushing Radko away so hard the Serbian stumbles over the bathroom floor. He lands on his ass, a thick line of swears escaping his lips.
Nikolai slides down the wall, next to Dimitar who's barely conscious. At the very least he's alive, even if badly beaten up. And as horrible as it is, this has to be some silver lining.
The green eyed teen gasps for air, feeling up his bruised neck.
"What the fuck is wrong with you!?" Ivan demands at Radko, "You were going to fucking kill him if I hadn't walked in!"
The Bulgarian manages to breathe in but he still can't gather the strength to speak.
"He's your damn family, we can't allow to fight like this, Radko!" the Russian snaps, voice resonating all over the bar,
"I've always fucking hated him, it'd be better if I killed him!" the Serb shoots back, his features distorted in pure rage.
"We're a family whether we like it or not!" the Russian snaps, voice so loud and assertive it leaves no room for hesitation, "If we don't support each other, we'll fucking die in this stupid country that hates us!"
Niko shudders at the words, taken aback yet again at how much Ivan cares, how much he clings onto the idea of family.
Would he…would he still care if he knew the truth? That he is Bi?
That he enjoyed kissing another man? That he's thought about it before, pictured himself with Dimitar and other men when he was drunk and his imagination could no longer be kept under control?
"And you…Nikolai, what the fuck happened?" Ivan demands, blue eyes searching for answers.
The Bulgarian all but whimpers when he stretches out a hand, afraid he would hit him. He's weak, pathetic even. But…he just can't handle the thought of Ivan throwing him out, leaving him. Hating him the way Radko does.
"Ivan, he's just really drunk and high, I don't think he knows what he's doing," Katya comes to his rescue, words almost drowned out by the panic in her voice, "I mean look at him…he doesn't even know where he is."
Niko can't argue with that, head spinning, heart beating in his chest so hard he feels as though it might run out. Blood trickles down his face and breathing is still hard.
Ivan pauses, taking a good look at him.
"Jesus, how much did you drink?" he shakes his head, "Did you take something too?"
"Д-да," Nikolai manages to croak out, mind flying back to what they did with Radko.
"I gave him some," the Serbian admits, having calmed down a little.
The Russian nods and suddenly all the tension seems to melt away from his face. The change in him is immediate, as if he's just been assured everything will be okay. Pale lips turn into a smile as he shakes his head,
"No more drugs for you then," Ivan proclaims as blue eyes fall over green, "I swear you look so out of it, no wonder that fucking fag had his way with you,"
Nikolai does want to argue, with all his heart and mind he does. Because honestly, Dimitar didn't force himself onto him, he's not a victim. Instead…he's just a freak, an abomination.
His own people would hate him for it. His own family should be disgusted and ashamed, they should throw him out without a second thought.
He hangs his head in shame, maybe he does deserve all the hatred Radko has for him if he likes men…If he's, he's turned on by them.
It's a sin, it's wrong.
He deserves Ivan to hate him too, kick him out, never speak to him again. And he's ready to take it, whatever beating the Russian throws at him.
"Ivan…I," he begins, mustering up the courage to admit it, even if it's the last thing he does,
"Shhh, don't speak," Katya steps in, crouching next to him, soothing hands over him, "We get it, you're sorry, but you were just really out of it, right?"
He meets the girl's pale blue, washed out eyes. They're full of desperation and he realizes she's begging him to lie.
He doesn't want to, he wants to say the truth, for once.
"Please Niko," Katya whispers in his ear, words drenched in desperation.
He can't say no to her, he can't leave her. If he gets kicked out…who knows what Radko could do? Would Ivan always be there to stop him?
The girl's fingers curl around his and he realizes there's no way he's telling the truth.
Nikolai nods, scattering away their doubts.
Ivan looks immensely relieved, almost as if Nikolai has just come back from the dead.
He probably has.
But now…now everything is okay, he's back to being part of the family, all because of a lie. The Russian buys it immediately, the cheap excuse, the reassurance that he hasn't lost him. That it was just a bad combo of alcohol and drugs. Ivan would rather have him as an alcoholic or a drug addict than as Bi.
He would rather have him dead that that.
"Don't ever do something like this again," Braginski admits, squatting next to him.
He stretches out a large hand and runs in down his cheek. He brushes his hair lovingly as Nikolai whimpers. He probably doesn't deserve any of this if he likes men.
Nonetheless Ivan pulls him into a strong hug and he can see the Russian is shaking.
"I love you all so much, okay," he admits, "So please, don't ever do this."
"I won't, I won't," the Bulgarian is quick to promise, "I-I won't."
xxx
Alin takes in what the other says and it's the final nail to the coffin. With determination he's never had in his life before he tells him,
"There's no fucking way I'm letting you go back to that house."
Author's Note: So…yeah, I wasn't joking when I said the relationship between Serbia and Bulgaria will be bad. From what I've read about the two countries, the real life situation is actually much worse.
And the homophobia thing in Serbia as well as Russia and the rest of Eastern Europe is true as well by the way.
Thanks to: maryranstadler1, GarGoyl, Elizaveta Hedervary – Hungary, Criticalthinking for stopping by and commenting! You make my day!
Did you enjoy the chapter? How many of you guessed it would be Francis that spilled the beans? Do you think Radko is redeemable?
Next chapter – we'll finally hear more about Alin's past! And Francis will have to do some explaining…
Please review, share your thoughts on the chapter and guesses about what might come!