Chapter 10: Endless

"Hold it steady." "Don't blink." "Keep your eyes on the target." "Don't be scared."

It was hard. Especially taking that last advice, because he was scared as hell. He had never ever touched a gun before coming to Moscow. And now he was training to use it against other humans. It made him feel sick.

He pulled the trigger. Again and again.

"Not bad", Vlad said eventually. "We're getting there." The human-shaped target slid over towards the booth hanging from the rail mechanism and Vlad nodded his approval. "You're a natural."

It was only Otabek's second day in the gun range, but he had to confess that his instructor was right. He had talent and he was disgusted by it.

The MP-443 Grach was heavy in his hand, but not as cold as he had initially expected. The polymer of the handle had warmed up in his hand really quickly so that it didn't feel foreign anymore and that was scary as well.

The gun was the standard model for the Russian Police and some Kazakh private security services as Otabek had learned, so with his made up migration background that they had come up with for his new papers it would make sense that he'd use this model. Also it was a reliable and solid gun, relatively easy to handle and pricey. The thought that he was now in possession of a gun made Otabek's stomach turn once more.

"It's obvious that you do sports that require a certain level of body balance and steadiness", Vlad said and plucked the sheet from the clips, handing it to Otabek who took it without showing hesitation when all he wanted was to avoid touching it, facing what he had done even it it was only ink on a piece of paper that had been pierced by the bullets. "Are you sure you never fired a gun before yesterday?", Vlad then laughed, while Otabek looked down on the paper. Only two shots had missed the circles in the center, hitting within the black stylized torso nevertheless.

"I am", he replied, his voice steady.

"You should think about hunting", Vlad said, taking the sheet back so that Otabek could secure his gun and take the magazine out. "The real thing is way more fun."

"I refuse", he said, putting the gun and the ammunition in the small case it had come in.

"What a pity", the Russian said while storing away the ear protection. "You'd be so good at it."

With a shrug Otabek closed the case and took it from the counter. They headed over to the front desk and Otabek payed the fee, then got into his jacket and took his helmet. He answered Vlad's "See you tomorrow" with a nod and stepped outdoors.

Nad had suggested the place in a remote suburb district of Moscow. "Vlad is discreet", she had pointed out and she had been right. He was a good instructor as well but didn't talk more than necessary, just like Otabek. When Otabek had registered yesterday Vlad had not even asked for his papers, shrugging it off with a "If Nad sends you, it's okay".

Indeed his new papers were not finished yet. It would take some time for them to be of good quality, Nad had explained. He was fine with that, actually, as he had some business with his real papers.

Yesterday he had been to the hospital where the ambulance had brought him after the attack. He had asked for his medical records but they had not contained any valuable information that had not been in his way more substantial file he had gone through in Almaty. Afterwards he had picked up the gun from one of Nad's acquaintances and then headed over to the firing range.

Like yesterday the sun had already set when he finished his training and it was freezing cold, but at least not snowing. Still he shivered, from the cold and the tension. The thought that he'd might be in a situation when he was forced to make use of this training gave him the chills. Yesterday he had missed most of the shots, but today, after Vlad had corrected his stance and posture, the ratio of hits had increased drastically. If he'd progress like that they'd move on to moving targets by next week. It was terrifying.

Otabek brought the engine to life and returned to the hotel. The ride on the lowly growling bike made him relax a little, but the presence of the fire gun in the saddle bag was haunting.

He decided to clean the gun, then take a shower and grab a bite to eat. Maybe afterwards he could go to the gym down the street. It had cleared his mind yesterday and he had been even more on the edge after firing the first shots in his life, so it would most likely calm him down today as well.

He had just finished the first task, putting the weapon back in its case when his phone vibrated. Unlocking the screen he recognized the profile picture only at second thought. It showed the drawing of a whale shark and only after a moment Otabek remembered that he had made good on his promise and texted Dima this morning.

"Get to know the city", Nad had instructed him and rather than exploring it by himself he had decided to ask Dima, who had come to Moscow himself lately after all and who would probably know what places he needed to know first from his own experience.

So the message was the reply to his text earlier today.

Nice to hear from you! (Also to learn your name, I totally forgot to ask you about that :D)

I'm free tonight, just finished a project. If you wanna hang out we could go have dinner? I haven't eaten yet and there's a nice steak place I wanted to try out.

If you like. X3

Frowning down on the message Otabek took a moment to decide. That was not entirely what he had requested from Dima, but on the other hand he hadn't had dinner either, so it might at least be a chance to get to know something.

If it is convenient for you we could meet in approximately an hour. -Erasyl, he replied, receiving a thumbs-up icon and then the address of a restaurant close to the Staraya Square.

After Otabek had showered he took care of the tattoo, cleaning it carefully, then applying the lotion Nad had recommended. It had stopped bleeding yesterday already, but it was still itchy and oozed just a little of the transparent liquid, so he wrapped foil around it once more before dressing. He dressed in a suit as he didn't know how casual the restaurant was, but spared the necktie this time in order not to make Dima uncomfortable by looking like a secret agent. It was half past eight already and he decided to take a taxi because it was too cold for the bike by now.

The ride to the restaurant didn't take long, so Otabek arrived 10 minutes early. He paid and walked over to the entrance of the restaurant. He was surprised to find Dima waiting there.

"Oh, hey Erasyl", the redhead greeted him with a genuine smile. "You're already here. Guess we are both the types to rather be a little early", he said and chuckled and Otabek nodded.

"I hope you didn't wait long."

"Oh, it's fine", Dima replied with his Yuuri-ish smile and gestured towards the restaurant. "Shall we?"

Otabek's manners made him open the door and grant entry for his companion. They handed in their coats at the entrance and were shown a table in the far back of the guest room.

The steakhouse was furnished rustic-style with heavy wooden tables and chairs upholstered with leather. The ceiling resembled that of a barrel vault, huge lamp shades hanging from the brick arches.

"I always wanted to come here", Dima explained. "But my friends are either vegetarians or, like, constantly broke." He laughed and even Otabek felt a slight tug at the corner of his mouth.

The waitress came and handed them the menus and both of them stuck their noses in the heavy leather folder.

ы

"-the problem is", Dima said in between bites, "that the paper sucks the ink from the pens like a vampire. That's why you need the special paper and that is very expensive. So you, like, either buy new pens all the time or you go for the super expensive paper. Either way it's not exactly cheap. It's a shame."

Otabek nodded to signalize that he had understood the issue at hand.

"So", Dima concluded. "I technically live at that shop. That's why I immediately noticed that I haven't seen you around before." He pinched a fry with his fork and looked at Otabek for a moment, then asked: "So, you said you are here for work?"

Again Otabek nodded. "I had business in Moscow three years ago already but it turned out there are some questions to be resolved."

"Sounds serious", Dima said with a laugh. "But you said you have to get to know the city a little as you will stay longer?"

"My... partner was with me last time who was from Moscow and therefore familiar with the location", Otabek vaguely outlined. "But as it is only me this time I need to get along by myself. I don't want to rely only on maps and navigation systems though and to learn the city by heart requires a certain amount of time. So I thought I could ask for your help about this matter. If you don't mind."

When Dima smiled his eyes shimmered like light blue water behind his glasses. "I don't mind at all", he replied. "Actually I know most of the important places here already, but it could be fun to explore more than that as well. I'm, like, usually in my room most of the time and work for university, but when I came here I used to walk around with the other freshmen a lot. So it would be nice to go and see those places again."

"I appreciate your help", Otabek said, taking a sip of his water.

For some reason Dima laughed. "People must think we are a weird duo", he stated. "You are so serious and good-looking with your suit and stoic behaviour and all that and I'm the grinning ginger care-bear who tags along like you take me for a stroll."

Otabek thought about it for a moment. They didn't quite fit together indeed. Obviously Dima liked dressing in a fancy but kind of old-fashioned style like the light green linen shirt and knitted grey-blue cardigan that went well with his messy red hair and round glasses. His skinny jeans were of a light gray, his boots red. Yuri would probably say that he looked like a tramp.

The sudden thought of Yuri made Otabek's insides tense and he put his fork down. He could hear his voice in his head: "And what does that jerk even dress like, does he get his outfits from a fucking clothing drive or does he look like a fucking hippy on purpose?"

That hadn't happened before and it took Otabek by surprise. He hadn't remembered Yuri's voice before, but now it was there, like the boy was standing beside him, right at their table, commenting on Dima as caustic and spiteful as ever. His voice was deep and a little raspy, just like it used to be whenever someone else was around, but not when they were by themselves. When it was only the both of them, it was still deep, but low and soft and so different, but nonetheless beautiful. Tears dwelled in Otabek's eyes as sudden as a spring tide.

(It played like a video before his eyes, this one moment when Yuri had sounded as vulnerable and gentle as never before. On his sofa, the old red one in Otabek's apartment in Almaty, Yuri's eyes grow soft and his voice as well. "There was a princess that never laughed and never smiled", he says, softly, his voice vanishing into the summer night. Yuri's head leans against Otabek's shoulder and Otabek looks down on his golden hair while his friend is narrating the fairytale that he says his grandfather read to him so often that he knows it by heart even after all those years.

"The king, her father, was heartbroken about her mirthless life, so he offered wealth and glory to the one who would make her smile, and many men came to try, but she was gloomy and whatever the men did, princes and jokers and magicians, she never smiled. But in a village close by there lived a poor peasant with his grandson and they had a hard life. The boy was so charming though, even the animals from the forest liked him and he became friends with all of them. However when he was old enough his grandfather sent him away to find work because he could not feed him anymore. So the boy went and tried to find work in the village but no one could give him work. He went all the way to the town where castle was, hoping that he would find work there. On that day another prince had come to try and save the princess and as he careered down the street the boy was pushed in the dirt of the roadside ditch. The prince didn't even notice and approached the princess and no one cared for the boy in the mud. But his friends, the forest animals, had seen all that and they came to help him. Soon the street was crowded with birds that pulled the boy out of the mud with their beaks and deers that offered their antlers as support and butterflies brushing the dirt from his clothes and it was such a joyful view that it made the princess smile. The boy was rewarded with gold and gems and titles but the princess had fallen in love with him as well and so they married and he became the king and he had his grandfather come to the castle and live with them in prosperity."

He falls silent and Otabek realizes that Yuri loves this story because he wants to be like the boy in the tale, not because of the princess, but because he wants to help his grandfather to live a peaceful and carefree life and it almost makes him cry how selfless Yuri is. He falls more in love with him every second they spend together.)

"Hey, what's wrong?"

The voice was soft and gentle, but different and Otabek realized that he was staring at his plate, tears falling from his eyes once more. Looking up he saw the concern in Dima's eyes but was unable to explain what had happened, so he just shook his head.

Tilting his head to the side the redhead put down his cutlery and reached over, to take Otabek's hand. "It's okay", he said. "Why don't we call it a day and get out of here?" His smile looked more like Yuuri's than ever and Otabek nodded wordlessly.

Dima volunteered to go pay at the counter while Otabek picked up their coats, hiding his tears by lowering his head.

Once outside Dima called up for a taxi and shoved Otabek inside before sitting down next to him. Otabek said the name of the hotel and the driver just hummed and pulled out of the parking space.

"Hey", Dima said after a while. "Listen, I don't know what happened to you but… You know, I noticed in the shop already when you were talking about your friend... " He sighed and Otabek wished that he just fell silent, because it hurt so much to think of Yuri, but he didn't dare talking, afraid that he'd burst into tears right here. "I see that you are in pain", Dima continued, then hesitantly took Otabek's hand like to comfort him. "And I don't know you very well, but I think that you, like, are the type to keep the pain inside. And that's not good." He sighed. "The thing is, you know, I like you, so if I can help you somehow… If you need someone to talk about it, or just be with you and not talk at all or I don't know, well, if there is anything I can do, tell me, okay?" He waited for an answer and when there was none repeated: "Okay?"

Otabek managed to nod. He didn't want to talk. To no one. He wanted to keep that pain inside, because only there it was safe and wouldn't come back at him. He couldn't be weak, he had to learn how to handle this. He tried, but the memories had come back all too sudden, strong and totally unexpected. He couldn't control the flashbacks, but he at least had to learn how to control his feelings when it happened. He couldn't risk breakdowns like this anymore, not if he wanted to proceed with his desperate plan.

"This isn't meant to be offensive, but maybe you should see someone", Dima murmured a moment later. "Like, a therapist or something."

Something in Otabek's chest grew hot. "I'm not crazy", he growled.

"That's not what I meant."

The taxi came to a halt in front of the hotel and Dima looked back and forth between the driver and Otabek who grit his teeth.

"Erasyl", he said, but the driver interrupted him: "Are you getting out or what?"

"Yeah, sure, give me a second", the redhead groaned and handed the driver some bills, then opened the door and dragged Otabek out of the car. The door was closed for not more than a split second when the car pulled away.

Otabek watched it fade away in the traffic that had calmed down that late at night, but still was busy enough so that he lost track of the tail lights after a moment.

"Erasyl", Dima said once again. "Sorry, I didn't want to upset you even more. I just think that you should talk about it. About what makes you so sad."

Otabek looked at him, silent. Maybe he was right. He had tried to do that by himself. He had not talked about his feelings, not even with JJ, a friend that he trusted. He had tried to bottle up the pain and the fear in order not to be vulnerable, but maybe that was exactly how he was the most vulnerable in the end. Crying every time he caught the glance of a memory of Yuri, bursting into tears in public like a goddamn mental wreck, because, yeah, that's exactly what he was. Left alone with nothing but memories that came back to him as unexpected and painful as knife thrusts and the gun on his bed and this endless, endless fear that he'd not find him ever again, that he'd lost him forever.

A violent sob shook his body and before he knew what was happening Dima had wrapped his arms around him, pulling him into a wordless embrace and he clung to the smaller boy and cried into his coat.

"It hurts", he sobbed, gentle hands on his back, wandering up and down his spine. "It hurts so fucking much. To keep it all inside. To not let it show. When all I want to do is scream."

The touch of Dima's hands was comforting even through the fabric of his coat and his voice soothing when he said: "It's okay to scream. Sometimes it's just what you need to do." He held Otabek until the tears became fewer and the sobbing evened out. "Do you want to, like, tell me what happened?"

Otabek thought about it for a moment. He wanted to. Actually, he honestly wanted to, just to see if it eased the pain. But he couldn't. His identity had to remain a secret. He could never tell anyone, not who he was, not who he had been and what had happened to him. It had to remain left unsaid.

"I can't", he whispered into the messy red curls. "I know that it will drive me crazy sooner or later or already has. But I can never talk about it. It's vital that I keep that to myself."

Dima nodded. "I'm sorry. I wish I could help you."

"You do", Otabek murmured. "Thank you." It was true, his tears had stopped somehow. He let go of the redhead and stood upright.

Dima looked at him biting his lip, then let go of Otabek as well. "Erasyl", he whispered, then rose his hand to wipe away a stray tear from Otabek's cheek. His eyes shimmered in the light of the street lamps as he looked Otabek right onto the eyes. Then, like he burnt his fingers, he broke the contact, made a step backwards and hunched his shoulders, blushing. "You're handsome", he murmured and looked down on the ground with an embarrassed smile. "Sorry, I got carried away a little. I just wanted you to know…" He rose his eyes and looked at Otabek shyly. "If I can help you, let me know, okay? I could, like, show you around tomorrow if you like or… Well, something like that or... something, okay?" He chuckled nervously. "Sorry, I guess I'll better head home and stop… babbling… Just… let me know if you want to, like, go explore tomorrow."

"Okay", Otabek replied, turning to head over to the entrance of the hotel and Dima turned away as well. "Good night."

"Good night, Erasyl."

It reminded him of how Yuri used to end their skype calls: "Good night, Otabek", he used to say in his low, deep voice when the sky over the Kazakh mountains had turned from black to a soft blue already but the stars still glittering in the distance. Everything reminded him of Yuri.

He went upstairs to his room, dropped his coat on the floor, his shirt as well, kicked his shoes into a corner.

The tattoo hurt. His chest hurt. His eyes hurt from crying, his jaws hurt from clenching.

"Good night, Otabek."

He wanted to scream.

He didn't.

I drew Otabek as I imagine him in this story (just not as pretty, becaue my skills are not enough to do his beauty justice ^^')

check it out on my tumblr, it's captainoceanwhirl there, and I all so tag as Midningt in Moscow there.