A note from ME! Here you go, guys! I'm on a roll!

Chapter eleven

They Reminisce

It was cold.

Ivan shivered violently. He wanted to sit down. He wanted to sleep.

"Ivan? Ivan, dear, don't close your eyes…"

Why? It would be so easy. He was so cold…

"Katyusha? Natalya? Come on, get up…"

Why wouldn't his mother let him sleep? His trembling fingers scrambled for the collar of his coat, pulling it up against the howling wind. Soft hands wrapped around his own, tugging him to his feet, and a thin, long coat was wrapped around his shoulders

"Ivan? You can't sleep. Do you understand? You must keep walking. You have to look after your sisters for me. Ivan? Ivan, look at me. You have to survive."

Ivan slowly opened his eyes, squinting against the wind that blew into them, and looked up at his mother. He frowned at her bare arms, before looking at the coat she'd draped over his shoulders. His mother, reassured that Ivan wasn't going to sleep, started urging his sisters to their feet, leading them to Ivan and adjusting her coat so that it covered all three of them.

"Ma?" Natalya asked, wrapping her arms around Ivan's waist. Their mother smiled weakly.

"Don't worry, little ones." She whispered. "We're almost there… come on, now; not far now."

Ivan staggered forward's awkwardly, hampered by Natalya's tight grip on his waist and Katyusha's hand in his own. Eventually, however, he could make out squares of light ahead of them. His mother gave a small, relieved "Oh…" before stumbling, falling to her knees.

"Ma!" Natalya cried, breaking away from her older siblings and tumbling forwards to her mother. She smiled bravely for her youngest child, wrapping her arms around her in a limp hug.

"Oh my beautiful Natalya…" She murmured. "Your father would be proud if he could see you… And yours, Ivan." She added, calling the older two over. "Your father would be so proud of both of you…" Laying kisses on Katyusha and Ivan's foreheads, she buried her face into Ivan's shoulder.

"Look after your sisters…" She murmured tiredly. "Be strong for them; you only have each other…" She trailed of. The warmth of her breath disappeared from Ivan's neck.

"… Ma?" Ivan asked, nudging his mother.

She didn't open her eyes.

Katyusha started to tear up, her bottom lip wobbling. Natalya sniffled.

Ivan pulled away, trying to support his mother down into the snow. He stared down sombrely, before roughly grabbing Natalya and Katyusha's hands, pulling them forward. Natalya screamed and kicked, reaching out for her immobile mother. Ivan ignored her, tugging his sisters towards the distant light. The small squares of yellow light separated and formed a small village. Ivan looked back. He could no longer make out the dark lump that was his mother.

Shaking his head determinedly, he continued marching forwards. Natalya had long stopped trying to escape, and instead wailed loudly.

The first house Ivan knocked on, he received no answer. The same with the next, and the next. The inhabitants were superstitious, and pinned Natalya's unearthly wailing on the presence of some malevolent ghost, Ivan's knocking the persistent demands for entrance. Eventually, however, the siblings reached a tall, grey stone building. Ivan rubbed his eyes on the sleeve of his coat, looking up at the church. Pausing for only a moment, he lead his sisters up the steps and slowly pushed open the heavy wooden door.

"… Hello?" He called. There was no reply, but the church was slightly warmer then outside, and protected them from the wind. He pulled the girls forwards, down the aisle and around to the pulpit, which he bundled them under, squeezing in after them. Squashed together like this and exhausted, the children fell into a deep sleep.

The next morning brought forwards weak, pale sunlight, and Ivan awoke without his sisters, in a bed. The sheets were rough and the mattress was thin, but it was warm and more comfortable than anything Ivan could remember.

The children had been found by a priest when he came to pray early in the morning, and had been taken to his home, where he fed them and warmed them. He spoke to the three children, getting very little out of them save for their names. Ivan wouldn't talk to him at all; his lips remained firmly shut, despite his older sister reminding him to thank the priest for meals. The priest kept the children with him for a week, caring for them and rebuilding their strength. Eventually though, with a heavy heart, but knowing that he couldn't do much more for them, he phoned the closest orphanage and, that afternoon, took the three children up in his car and left them each with a small packet of sweets and a gift; a ribbon for Natalya, a small rag doll for Katyusha, and a great, heavy old overcoat for Ivan. The violet eyed boy took it, the faint inklings of wonder and awe flickering behind his blank eyes.

"This is a very old coat." The priest told him. "It belonged to my grandfather. I hate it; it's full of memories of war and hate. It's warm though. Take it, my son, and remember that even in the longest, darkest and coldest of nights, there will always be a place for you."

Ivan immediately shrugged into it; it was far too big for him, and pooled around his feet. The priest smiled, ruffled the boy's hair, and straightened.

"Goodbye, my children. God bless." He bid them farewell and turned away, leaving them with the orphanage Mistress and making his way towards his car. A small voice stopped him halfway down the path, though.

"Thank you…" Ivan whispered.

Ivan sat patiently through his sister's lecture as she cleaned up her thirteen year old brother, smiling benignly at her exasperated voice.

"You shouldn't fight." She chided. "Especially not with the village boys."

"Why not?" Ivan asked. "They started it. They made fun of Natalya."

Katyusha clicked her tongue.

"They were only teasing. It's what boys do; they like her really."

Ivan's face turned briefly dark and fierce, before returning to his typical entertained smile.

"That's stupid." He replied. "If you like someone, you tell them, right?" This concept confused him. Was Katyusha telling him it was okay to hurt the people you love? He ignored his sister for the rest of her lecture, deep in thought.

Ivan clicked his briefcase closed, patting the side carefully. He smiled to himself.

"I'm leaving." He called to the rest of the house, putting on his overcoat, which he had started to grow into, and scarf despite the sweltering American sun outside the front door. Natalya thundered down the stairs, throwing herself off half-way down.

"No!" She screeched. "You can't! You can't make me go to that horrible place!"

"Miss Natalya!" The servant Toris hurried down the stairs after the girl. "Miss, please, you must! You have to go to school!"

"I refuse!" Natalya screeched, slipping into fast paced Russian, burying her face into Ivan's chest. Ivan patted her head.

"You have to." He told her quietly. "Mr Winter said-"

"I don't care!" Natalya interrupted. "I hate Mr Winter! I hate him, he should go die!" Toris started to reach out, but paused when Ivan smiled at him. At the top of the stairs, Katyusha sighed.

"Natalya…" She pleaded, slipping down to comfort her sister. "I'm coming too; and Mr Winter has done a lot of us, we have to be appreciative…"

"I want to stay with Ivan!" Natalya shrieked. "I want to stay with big brother!"

Ivan gently pulled Natalya away and smiled; it didn't reach his eyes, though, which hardened disapprovingly.

"Natalya;" He started. "Mr Winters' has done a lot for us; he adopted us and even took in and helped Katyusha even though she was already living on her own. He brought us to America and gave us a home, and now he's paying for you and Katyusha to go to a private boarding school; It won't be for very long, and then you can come and see me whenever you want."
Natalya buried her face into Ivan's scarf and sniffled.

"Promise?"

"Da." Ivan replied, pulling away. "I've got to go now; I'm doing a job for Mr Winter's. I'll see you later." Giving his sister's one last hug each, he turned away and left.

"It was nice doing business with you." Ivan smiled, passing over the money and grabbing the rucksack before his 'business partners' could change their minds. Not that they would; Ivan had grown up well, and now towered over most men. His overcoat, which he still treasured fiercely, had been let out and adjusted so often, sometimes Ivan was worried that it wasn't the same anymore.

The man across the table was tall, almost as tall as Ivan, with brown curly hair and a stubble. His temples were flecked with grey.

"Tell your father that Julius Vargas says hi." Julius told him, standing up and shaking Ivan's hand. "We're looking forward to working with you in the future. Next time I'll bring my grandson too, I'm sure you and Lovino will have a long working future ahead of you."

Ivan smiled widely.

"Da, I hope so. I hope to meet you again soon."

Ivan didn't wait around. He knew Julius' type; by the time Ivan got to his car Julius would be leaving the building and making his way to his no-doubt privately owned jet. By the time he was half-way home Julius would be back in Italy.

As he drove, Ivan hummed. Life had been surprisingly good for him and his sisters; Katyusha was now a teacher at the all girl's boarding school she and Natalya had attended, Natalya now being in her last year. Occasionally Ivan could pop in to see them during one of his trips across the country for Mr Winters, who paid good money and for all of Ivan's living expenses.

Ivan's musings were interrupted several hours later when a body threw itself onto the hood of his car; the surprising force of the impact caused Ivan to lose control, landing in a ditch and totalling his car. Pushing the airbag out his face, the Russian leant out of his car window, frowning. Behind the car, the man he'd run over staggered back to his feet and moaned. Raising an eyebrow, Ivan looked back at the rucksack of weapon's he'd picked up.

Alfred stared open-mouthed at Ivan when he'd finished his story.

"… You told us you picked up those weapons from an abandoned military base…" The American said eventually. Ivan shrugged.

"Da. That was a lie."

"Right, of course. Anything else you lied about? Any truths you want to put out there?" Alfred snapped, shaking with anger. Ivan frowned.

"I don't know why you're getting angry." He said. "I didn't know you, of course I lied. There's no point getting annoyed."

Alfred's face twitched.

"You know what, you're right! There's no point, no fucking point whatsoever!" He slammed out of the room, Ivan frowning after him. Ian cleared his throat.

"So that's two mafia members in Artie's little group." He muttered. "What next, is Kiku part of the Yakuza or something?"

Polishing his Katana, Kiku merely smiled mysteriously. The four Kirkland brother's exchanged glances and shivered.

A note from ME! Who can spot the glaringly obvious Easter egg? ^^ see ya next chapter guys!