Chapter 20: I Fell For You

It's so strange.

The last thing I remember is the door to wherever I was opening. I lost awareness after that, and now I know that Oska took over. I know, because the two of us are brought back together as Oska realizes our situation. Senya leads us out of the room, and I realize that I had been brought to a quiet residential home. The guards that lie on the floor are not familiar to me, so perhaps were hired to watch me. I start to shake as I recognize Nurse Ivken's bloody and motionless body.

My feet stop and I feel a swell of sickness.

I also feel Senya's eyes on me.

"Ah, Victor," Senya says in a tone that tells me that my presence is not unexpected, "you are with us too? You are very sensitive to this, so…try not to look."

"Where is Yuuri?" I ask him, knowing full well that he will either get angry at the question or probably refuse to answer, "Where are my parents? Where are…?"

"I was wondering that, myself," he says in a strangely emotionless voice, as he leads me out of the house.

He holds an umbrella over us as he leads me to a waiting car.

"You didn't hurt them?"

"They weren't here to be hurt," he says solemnly, "which leads me to think that they were setting up some kind of a trap for me. But, as soon as Nurse Ivken informed me about Masha knowing too much, I gathered my things and I left the rehabilitation center. We don't need that environment anymore, anyway."

Thunder booms ominously and the rain comes down harder.

"How did you know where to find us?" I ask.

Senya smiles and I feel prickles on the back of my neck.

"I think I will keep that to myself," he chuckles, "It's enough for me to tell you that no matter where they took you, I was going to find you."

So, he must have placed some kind of tracking device on me? I wonder where. Was it on my clothing, or did he use something that could be placed under my skin, or maybe swallowed? I've heard of those kinds of things before, but it's unreal to think…

"You didn't look surprised at all to see me, but you did look unhappy. Are you remembering more now?"

"I think we both know that this is not memory," I tell him, matter-of-factly, "You've said that you put Oska inside me, but that's not what really happened, is it?"

We come to a dark colored car that is waiting at the curb. Nurse Derdova sits in the driver's seat, but says nothing as Senya nudges me into the back seat of the sedan and climbs in with me. The car pulls away from the curb.

"Tell me why you chose me."

His eyes narrow as he considers.

"I suppose there's no harm in that," he decides, "You see, Victor, you are a person in possession of a mind that is quite out of the ordinary. Genius, in any persuasion, requires a mind that can do something most people's minds can't."

"What are you telling me?" I ask him, "I don't understand you."

"It's all right," he says, slipping an arm around me, "It's confusing. But the easiest way to explain is to point out that you are a prodigy. You developed your abilities at a very young age, and you weren't just a talented skater, you were, from the beginning, a master creator, Victor. You are not just known, but highly respected for having the ability to handle the making of your own programs, from beginning to end, without much help at all from choreographers or coaches. They call it innate talent, but it's really just an indicator of an ability you have that few people do. The ones who do have this ability are the ones who become legends. Think of the great artists, Victor. Picasso, Michelangelo, DaVinci. And this is not just in the arts. Think, too, of the great inventors, Einstein, Edison and the like. People called them visionary. They are often seen as being before their time. They are often afflicted with terrible mental illness, because their ability…your ability is both beautiful and terribly dangerous. Controlled and directed as your talent was by Yakov Feltsman, you maintained control and you developed into the world renowned skater you are today. You are lucky. Many such minds are not nurtured. They are called dreamers, and they are abused and even cast out or imprisoned before their greatness can be recognized. Thus, there are also those with minds like yours, who use their ability in horrific ways. Charles Manson comes to mind."

"He was a maniac," I say reflexively, feeling another swirl of sickness coming on, "You compare me to…?"

"Not you, Victor," he says impatiently, "your mind! Your mind is wired differently, and it is exactly that, which made you perfect for recreating Oska."

"Recreating…?"

"You see," he says, pulling me closer to him and looking into my eyes, "only the truly great artists are able to build new worlds in their minds. It isn't just thinking things up that sound brilliant, with people like you, your creations are laudable because when you create them, they are real to you. In our sessions the way I knew that you were this kind of mind is because I questioned you about how you create your programs. This is what you told me."

"You questioned me about this under hypnosis?" I ask.

But, the answer is obvious.

He holds up his smartphone and a video begins to play, showing me lying on his couch in his office, with him in a chair, beside me.

"I think of something inspiring…a memory, perhaps. I immerse myself in that memory or feeling until I am reliving it in all of its detail. I make the moves to fit the emotions, then I send notes to my composer, detailing the mood I want…the exact feeling I want to convey. I even describe some aspects of sound that I want to enhance the experience. I draw the costumes based on what I think will bring the feeling across most appropriately, whether that is forcefully or more subtly. I do everything directed at taking that world I've created in my mind, and bringing it to life with music, movement and costume."

"You see, Victor," Senya whispers into my ear and sending fresh chills down my spine, "In my mind? In a normal mind? Oska was dead. But, in a mind like yours, he could live again. All I needed to do was to stimulate your mind to create him. I gave you the pieces, and you took that and recreated Oska for me! He is fully formed in your mind now, and I can see that you have merged, so that you are both aware. This is perfect."

"Perfect for what?" I ask.

My heart starts to pound as the car slows, and even though it's too dark to see where we are, I already know.

"I want him back now."

He's crazy.

He's really insane.

"You want him back? And how does that happen?" I ask as the car stops.

He opens the door and drags me out with him, leaving the umbrella behind, so we're almost instantly drenched and freezing. There is not even time to react as Derdova then drives the car over the cliff, and it crashes down. The sound of it is terrifying, and I don't know if it explodes, because the rain is coming down so hard that it's difficult to see. While I'm still frozen with horror at watching Derdova die, he pulls me up tightly against him, and he drags me towards the edge of the cliff. The moment I start to fight him, he uses the words he implanted in my mind to give Oska control. Oska still fights him, but he is fighting in a body that is not his own, and he is not an athlete.

If Senya is telling the truth about me creating Oska in my mind, then, I know I should be able to regain control of myself somehow, but I don't know how!

"Oska," he says adoringly, looking down into our eyes, "It's time now."

"Senya, stop!" Oska pleads, "Don't do this! Let Victor go!"

"But I can't do that," Senya answers, pulling Oska into a passionate kiss.

The sounds of an approaching car reach us, and headlights train on us. Sirens sound in the distance.

"Victor!" Yuuri's voice calls out.

"Yuuri, get back here!" Yakov shouts.

I can barely make out Stefan's face as he grabs Yuuri and holds him back.

"Victor!" Yuuri screams again.

I want so much to answer, but Oska is in control of my body, and his attention is on the man holding us.

"Stay back!" Senya warns them, slipping a gun out of his clothing and firing a warning shot into the air.

He places the tip of the weapon under my chin.

"Unless you want him to die."

He's going to kill us anyway!

"Just stay back," Senya continues, "I only want Oska."

"What are you talking about?" Yuuri howls, fighting Stefan's grip on him, "That isn't your boyfriend! It's Victor Nikiforov."

"I know who he is!" Senya scolds Yuuri, "I mean, I need to take Oska from inside him."

"And how does that happen?" Stefan says in a low, carefully controlled tone, "What are you going to do to extract Oska?"

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Senya smile, but it's so creepy, I feel like spiders are crawling on my skin.

"Yuuri Katsuki, come closer, but only you," he orders Yuuri.

Yuuri glances at Stefan, who starts to object, but Senya pushes the gun deeper into my neck.

"I will kill him right now, if you don't come," Senya warns them.

"Let go of me," Yuuri snaps at Stefan.

"Yuuri, no!" Yakov yells.

"Don't you get it?" Yuuri shouts back, wiping the rain from his face, "He'll kill Victor now if I don't. I have to go to him. Let go."

Stefan's teeth clench, but he has no choice. Yuuri moves closer and Senya moves suddenly, pulling the gun away from my neck and training it on Yuuri instead.

He's going to shoot!

I don't know whether it is me breaking free of Senya's control, or if it is Oska who can't take any more and tries to fight. We grab Senya's arm and pull him down, rolling around with him and struggling for control of the weapon. The gun goes off, but I don't think it hit me. I see Yuuri trying to move closer, but he has to drop to the ground as the gun goes off again. Yakov and Stefan move in to help, but the gun fires a third time, and they dive to the ground.

We finally get a grip on the hand that holds the gun, but as we do, lightning flashes blindingly, and we realize we've come to the edge of the cliff. Senya looks into our eyes lovingly.

"Oska, It's our time," he says, holding on tightly to me and throwing his own body over the edge.

"No!" Yuuri howls, grabbing one of my wrists as I start to go over the edge.

He braces his feet on the rocky ground and holds on for dear life as Senya's weight and mine drag him down, and he starts to slide towards the edge too.

"VICTOR!"

I manage to get my free hand wrapped around Yuuri's wrist, so I'm holding on with both hands, and so is he. Still, our hands are wet and he can't possibly continue to hold the weight of both of us. His legs catch on something, then Yakov and Stefan reach him and take hold of him.

"Oska," Senya calls softly, sounding like the rain and all of the other people have suddenly disappeared.

He's holding onto my waist, and I can feel his grip is tenuous. I think if I move suddenly, I may be able to throw him off, but even though I know that…I suddenly don't know if I can do that.

We have to do it, Victor Oska's voice says in my head, He is going to kill us if we don't.

I look down at Senya's oddly serene face, and his smile warms.

"Come with me," he coaxes Oska, "Oska, I want to tell you. I'm sorry for what happened that day. I came to our special place and I saw you with that man. I learned later, from your diary, that you were meeting him there to ask him to be our best man. I only saw you were hugging him and smiling, and I lost control. I attacked you without thinking, and we watched as he fell to his death. There was one horrible moment, when you looked at me like I'd become a monster, then we struggled, and you fell too. I want to tell you, I didn't mean any of it. I'm sorry, and I wish there was another way for us, but even this image that Victor has made for us has its limits. So, I need you to leave Victor, and come back to me."

"Victor!" Yuuri sobs, "Victor, our hands are slipping!"

I keep looking down as Senya begins to say something, and in my mind, I hear Oska scream.

Yakov and Stefan haul on Yuuri's legs and I feel our hands slipping again.

"Hurry! I'm losing my grip!" Yuuri pleads, "Victor, stay with me!"

"Oska," Senya says calmly, "The next words I say will separate you from Victor, and willplace you in my mind instead."

Can he really do that?

He says something more, but I barely hear. I'm looking down into his eyes, so I'm watching as they widen and swell with wonder. He meets my eyes one more time and his smile is deeply grateful.

"Thank you, Victor. I don't need you anymore."

One of his hands lets go and retrieves the gun.

"It's okay, Oska. It won't hurt this time when we fall."

An unholy sound exits my body as I try to kick the gun out of his hand, but he puts it to his head and pulls the trigger. Yuuri screams in dismay, and we watch as his body falls, soundlessly, into the blackness. Yakov and Stefan renew their efforts as the weight eases, and Yuuri drags me back up, onto the cliff edge as the others pull him to safety. Police are swarming the area and they head in our direction. We crawl away from the edge, then lock our bodies in a tight grip, and we won't let go for anything!

"Are you all right?" Yuuri sobs, "He d-didn't hit you?"

"No, he didn't hit me," I manage in a choked voice, "He wasn't trying to kill me…just himself. Well, himself and Oska."

Yuuri looks at me like he wonders if I'm right in the head. The others come closer and one of the policemen looks us over to make sure we're not hurt.

"He told me that he chose me, because I make worlds in my head. He thought that I could make Oska live again in my mind, and then, he brought us back here. A long time ago, he came to meet Oska here, and he saw Oska with another man. It was innocent, but he misunderstood. There was a fight and both Oska and the other man fell. Senya…Bershov was left at the top of the cliff, in shock at what he'd done. I guess…maybe the bodies were never found…or Bershov was never connected to the crime."

"There was a murder-suicide here, many years ago," one of the policemen tells me, "But, we should get everyone back to where it's dry. Then, we can get your statements."

Yuuri and I hold onto each other as we're guided to a waiting ambulance, where paramedics examine us more carefully and give us warm blankets to wrap around ourselves. When they've determined we're not physically hurt, except for cuts and bruises, policemen interview us. It's a long time that we're there, then one of the policemen takes Stefan aside.

"Do you think we need to take Mr. Nikiforov to psych for evaluation?" he asks, "His story…"

"Victor is quite lucid," Stefan assures them, "Remember, he was not telling us he believed what Bershov told him, he was explaining why Bershov chose him and did all of this. I think that the best place for Victor right now is at home with his family. I will stay with them until I am satisfied that he is all right."

"But, he was talking about another person being in his head," the officer objects, "What if that comes back?"

"Our dog knows!" Yuuri says suddenly, "Maccachin knows if Victor isn't like himself. He noticed before."

"Anyway, Oska is not a violent person," Stefan argues, "It was Bershov and the others who committed all of the acts of violence."

"Vasily!" I exclaim, feeling scared all of a sudden for my friend, "He didn't hurt Vasily or the others, did he? He was controlling Derdova. He made her drive off the cliff! He made Ivken attack Masha!"

"He didn't hurt the others," Stefan assures me, "As soon as we had you, I went back and discovered that Bershov was gone. He was in a hurry, I guess, so his focus was on getting out before I got there. It's okay. Vasily and the rest of the patients are fine."

"Oh…that's good."

I'm so relieved…

I turn my eyes to Stefan, and he looks at me like he knows what I'm going to ask him. He gives me a gentle smile.

"I don't think it would be good for you to go back to the rehabilitation center," he tells me, "Victor, I want you to go home with Yuuri, and we can talk about your rehabilitation later. Go home. Get a good night's sleep. You're both going to need it."

I barely remember the ride home, and I'm exhausted and hanging on to Yuuri as we undress and take a long, hot shower. I'm even too tired for words, so we don't talk at all. He bathes himself and me, while I just hang onto him, then we dry off and fall into bed together. With Yuuri on one side and Maccachin on the other, I feel so warm and safe, I can finally drop off to sleep. Maybe it's the exhaustion, but I don't dream anything. Everything just disappears into quiet and darkness.

I don't hear Oska's voice or feel his presence anymore.