Hi there! This story is… T.T finished. I've only got to upload the epilogue, and that's all. Well… thanks for all the reviews! And hope you enjoy this last chapter!

Note: I tried not to write down the whole dialogues because that'd mean being very repetitive with the first part. That's why I changed it and instead just mentioned the words that are the most important ones from Halina's POV.

Enjoy!

You're back.

Chapter 5: Goodbye.

I walk into the room, your room. It doesn't seem as desolated as it always was when you are inside. I sit on your bed, while you stay on the floor, next to the door as I found you. I sigh, where shall I begin?

As I start explaining the first part of our story, that may have little to do with you, your eyes look concerned, you remind me of myself when trying not to lose a second of what you were doing. Now you try not to lose a second of what I'm saying, and one way or another, I like the feeling.

"There's when I got pregnant. - as I start this part, I feel myself unsure of whether to keep talking or not. I find back the self confidence when I stare at your interrogative eyes, staring at me, demanding an explanation for the hell your past seems to be.

When I talk about our argument whether to keep you or not, I'm uncertain of how you will interpret it. We had our fears, Kai. I knew you were my son, but what if letting you live caused you more problems than what would be killing you there? Even now I can't say whether if it was a good choice or not. You seem to have suffered so much that I question myself if, killing you, wouldn't have been a way to prevent all that suffering.

"We had the baby, and everything he had told me about his father and the organization seemed to be whole lies during the first five years. You were risen up in Moscow as any child, sometimes forgetting you were Voltaire Hiwatari's grandson. That thing didn't matter to you, what would you understand of power and ambition at that age." I try to position myself in a five-year-old mind. You were so young, so innocent to worry about power, enterprises and prestige.

After I tell you the arguments Voltaire had with your father, and why he had to leave the city, I close my eyes, hoping you will understand, hoping you won't react the same way you did when we were at the other room.

"That's why he left? Because my grandfather ordered him to?" you inquire. I shook my head. You must know Voltaire better than me, you must know about the conditions he imposes.

I take a deep breath, and try to retain the tears that have formed on my eyes. "Voltaire… Voltaire told him… he'd kill his son… if he ever thought of going back to Moscow."

You still have more questions. "and that's why he left?" you ask, still shocked by the previous sentence. You are demanding the answers for your past, and you have every right to ask me. I'll answer everything.

I just nod at your question, and keep talking. "…For the contrary, if he left, he would be able to decide what to do with his career, and his son would, if everything went as we hoped, be safe. But you know Voltaire and his people, and as soon as Demyan left the city--" I have to stop when you interrupt me…

"What happened when he left? How did that happen?" this is what's written in the diary. It was obvious you were going to ask about it.

I finish explaining the departure day with a deep sigh. But you still have more things to ask about. I understand you, Kai… I would have the same amount of doubts if it was my past to talk about. Actually I have them, about your past, about what you lived. But it's not my time to ask. It's yours. "And you didn't prevent me from going? You said nothing?" you ask. I still can't believe your grandfather's manipulations.

"A gun… can stop anything, easily…" I notice tears are moistening my face once again. "And I had to let you go… Kai. I'm… sorry… I had no news about you for three days, and when I went and looked for Voltaire, I found him crying, sitting in a bench… I asked what happened… and he told me… he told me he had been assaulted… and they had took you as his hostage… and one of his men had tried to interfere, and… you had already… already being burnt… I was so stupid…" and I feel even more stupid now that I repeat it, in front of you. How could I believe the man's words? How didn't I question him until he got tired of me, and told me the truth!

I wipe my tears away, I can't break now, I have to keep telling you, I have to let you know all I know. I feel betrayed, and feel like an idiot. It was so easy for him, so easy to make me believe you had died.

Your life was not in risk. Voltaire took you you-know-where to bring you up his way, to make with you whatever he wanted to make, to get you apart from us. In a million years you would understand how I feel, Kai. And that's because you never lost a son, and what's worse, a son you lost never came back to your house. I let me down, I let you down.

You sigh, and stand up. I follow your movements by the corner of my eye, you walk towards me and suddenly place your hands on my shoulders… I wasn't expecting it, and gasp in fear. Son… I'm afraid. Because now it's in your hands the destiny of all those words I have just say. It's all in your hands, whether to understand us, or forget us. And instinctive reaction makes me move backwards, I don't know why but I'm fearing you can hurt me. After all I've done, it'd be even logical. Almost Fair. But it doesn't seem fair for you, you hold my shoulders and keep me close to you.

"Halina…- you whisper my name, my fear is slowly going away. -thanks a lot… for telling me this. I know you both have done many mistakes… but I also know that you… tried to give the best of you…" I feel I have no words, for the first time in many years, to say what I want to say. It was an answer I needed… and I hope it's not to satisfy the need you have perceived in me that you say it.

I try to mouth something, just a single 'Sorry' comes out of my mouth. My tears fall in your hands, I wonder how you will take it. You seem surprised, and stare at me, as demanding an explanation. I lift my head slowly, my reddish eyes stare at yours. I've cried a lot today. But I never saw you cry.

My eyes meet those that are equal, and then I feel something I've never felt before. Though your eyes are in some way cold, I feel a kind of connection I had never experienced… I feel you are not longer afraid of me, I can sense you want to get to me, maybe as much as I want to get to you…

Your left hand touches my eye, and you wipe away some tears, I thought it was something you wouldn't do. "It's okay… stop crying." You say, like repeating some orders, I shook my head in misunderstanding.

But I keep quiet, and silently leave your room, whispering a low 'good night' as I close the door behind me.

As I get to the kitchen I see Demyan, sitting in one of the chairs of the round wooden table. He's looking at some papers that he got from some old drawer. He's looking at your pictures, old pictures of your childhood. Now he wants to remember too.

I smile, and when he looks at me I nod, he smiles back. I smile playfully when I notice that hours ago, I was questioning myself why you weren't much talkative. Neither me nor your father like talking very much.

I go to my room, sit on the bed and lay staring at the floor. Some minutes later I notice Demyan is entering, he lays on the other side of the bed and hugs me. "you knew something like this was going to happen" a statement, not a question. I smile… maybe what he is saying it's true.

Hours after I hear your door opening, and open mine, to check on you. I sense it, you are leaving. It's obvious I want to prevent this, I would like to delay your departure as much as possible. But if I did so, I would be going against your will. And it's not what I want to do. I've got to let you free, so you can return whenever you want.

You walk towards me, and I smile when you look at me. I try to sound normal, "Leaving?" I ask, however, my voice is weak and you notice my sadness.

You nod, and I breath deeply. How I wish this moment would delay, some minutes more. I gasp when I feel you grabbing one of my hands, my eyes open wide. "It's fine like this." You answer. I stare at your eyes. Can he come? Will you let him say goodbye?

Your eyes denote horror when you notice my intentions, but I smile and whisper, 'it's okay'. I've already talked to him, he will be respectful.

I walk back to our room, Demyan is already standing on the door. "He's leaving?" he asks me, worried but at the same time understanding my sadness. I nod, and try once again to prevent the tears from falling. How much I'll miss you… Kai.

I go to the living room, Demyan follows me. He is no longer scared, I have proved him you won't harm any of us, that was never your intention.

I walk to the door, the key in my hand. I open it, I don't want to seem retaining. "Do you want me to call a taxi for you?" I ask, due to the darkness I can see outside. You deny, I don't complain, and watch you turn around and glance at the house, your home from now on. Do you feel it a home? Do we make it a home?

I exchange uncertain looks with my husband, I know he's going to do the right thing. Then you turn back again, and look at Demyan. He looks at you, and reaches a hand to my side… he's trying to do things the right way, Kai. you should accept his hand, but I know that deep inside you're still afraid.

He's trying to be honest with you. He's putting away his fears, confronting them, and trying to make peace after yesterday's fight. He deserves you shake hands with him as much as you deserve it. Slowly you approach his hand with yours, I look at your movements carefully. You keep the eye contact, both are reluctant to break it. You both smirk, your gestures are so alike you would never imagine.

Then you turn to me, Demyan's turn to watch in silence. You know I want to embrace you, God knows when will be the last time I see you. Some tears come to my eyes at that thought, I really want you to stay for more time. You give a step forward, so uncertain, confused. When you're close enough you nod, allowing me to do something I tried to do some hours ago. I understand it, and hoping I haven't misunderstood I round you with my arms. I'm scared, it's the first time I hug a son in ten years. How do I do it? You do nothing to hug me back, you just stay quiet. Instinctively I kiss your cheek, and with my hands rub your back. I guess you will do nothing, and I'll just have to accept it this way. It's when we get apart that I gasp noticing you grab hold of my hands. I look deep in your eyes, and understand your message. Does everything end here?

You walk some steps backwards, and turn around, to start walking in the direction of the train station. We watch you leave. There are things I'll never forget.

THE END

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