A Warning Who: Pasha and Sasha What: A father checking up on his son When: 10.17 - Monday Night Where: Pasha's home Warning: None
Sasha had been upset by the news. Someone in the city was stupidly and carelessly attacking supernaturals in the city. First a blood whore, then a wereowl. Now three more weres. It made him concerned for Pasha. While his son was well trained in self-defense, he also worked for a public figure who made herself an easy target. He would have to watch over Pasha more until this fool was caught or killed. If he continued for too long, the old Russian hunter would deal with the problem himself.
He could have snuck in, he had an invitation and no ill intent, but he had no reason to. So he simply waited until his son had returned from work for the evening and simply knocked on the door.
Pasha honestly hadn't expected his father to come around again. He thought he'd seen the last of the man on their previous visit, but as it would seem now he'd been wrong. After returning from work, he'd put his coat away and slipped his shoes and socks off and was about to head in for a shower when the knock came to the door. He raised a brow because he wasn't expecting anyone and his surprise only grew when he glanced out the peephole and saw his father. "Spectacular," he sighed to himself, reaching out to turn the knob. He let the older man in and closed the door behind him. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" he asked.
He waited until the door was closed behind him to speak. "I came to check on you," he said honestly. "And warn you. About the fool attacking supernaturals. He might come after your employer, since she is so loud and obvious and his agenda is unclear. While he is a fool, he is a dangerous one. He defeated three weres by himself." It was something Sasha would have trouble accomplishing even now. With planning, he supposed, but this one, everything he'd read and heard about him with his long experience as a policeman, did not scream criminal mastermind.
Pasha arched a brow at his father, surprised that he actually seemed to care whether he lived or died. He wanted to protect him from this crazy fucker that was terrifying the city around them with his idiotic spree of murders and attacks. "I'm fine," he told him firstly. "And I'm sure that I'll be alright. This person, whoever he is, has lost his damn mind. Running around killing people and attacking people without any planning what so ever. Obviously an amateur. And if he came near me, he'd regret it." Pasha believed he could take care of himself, regardless of how many men and women this man had left in his wake.
Of course he cared. Pasha was his child. His son wanted to believe Sasha was a relentless, cold, remorseless killer. Even with a childhood of memories to the contrary. While he was far from the man Pasha knew as a child, he was still there. And his son was very much underestimating this man. "He would," he agreed. "But I would prefer not to have to hunt him down myself because you were not prepared. Just because he is sloppy, doesn't mean he isn't dangerous. Look what he has done. Do not underestimate him because he's a fool. That only makes him more dangerous. He cannot be predicted, and doesn't play by the rules of accepted strategy and warfare."
Pasha was underestimating the killer as much as he was his father. It was all a lot to take in at once and knowing that his father was now a vampire was a hard enough pill to swallow. "Well then I shall have to be more prepared," he said to Sasha. He led the other man through to the living room and settled himself into a chair, leaning back against the cushion and folding his hands over his lap. "And what about you?" he asked. "How safe are you from the fool?"
Sasha followed his son, settling down on the sofa. "You must be more prepared," he agreed. The question he offered was surprising in a way. But then, Pasha couldn't kill him even though he'd tried to make him do so. Perhaps he still cared for his father in a small way. "He doesn't know I exist," he pointed out. "He has no reason to. If I do decide to make myself known to him, it will be because the police have been unable to stop him through conventional means. I do not want to get in their way." He had been a policeman for years, he understood procedure and the limitations. For now, the man's actions were not a threat to the masses, therefore he wasn't interfering. Yet.
He had a point, Pasha knew. He was still slightly worried that someone would kill his father, if not the fool than whoever happened upon him. Hunters had difficult and dangerous lives. No matter how much pain there was in Pasha and angst towards his father, the man still brought him into the world. He didn't want him dead, no matter how much had happened between them. "Well good," he said. "That he doesn't know who you are. At least I don't have to worry about you."
There was a good possibility Sasha would meet a violent end. There had always been. He was in a dangerous career for certain. But it was not something Pasha should concern himself with. It wasn't as if Sasha had anything to live for anymore. "You should not be concerned about my safety," he told his son. "My calling is dangerous. Now even more so, because other hunters will rightfully seek to destroy me. But it is who and what I am. I would rather die ridding the world of one such as him than spend eternity frittering away my time doing nothing."
Pasha sighed. "I'm going to worry about you regardless of whether or not I should or whether or not you deserve it. You're my father. Even if I think you're an ass most of the time." It was just the way that it worked. Family was family no matter the evils that they may have been capable of. Pasha had come to terms with his father's past and tried to not focus on the memories. He didn't think his father was right in what he'd done to his mother, but at the same time he'd spent a great deal of time trying to figure out what he'd have done if he was put in the same position. He was unsure if his father had actually killed his mother because she was a witch or because she betrayed him. While he didn't think it was right for her to have been punished so severely, she'd lied to the man for their entire relationship. Hidden a great deal of herself. It was almost as bad as if she'd been cheating on him. She'd lived a double life. Her choices weren't positive either.
Sasha let out a wry chuckle. His son was very like him in many ways. A protector, a hard man who still hoped for good in the world. It made him proud. "Then I will be certain to check in from time to time," he said. "So you do not worry so much." He wouldn't stop doing the only thing he knew how to do, but he could let Pasha know from time to time that he was still around.
He'd like that, even if he was trying hard not to admit that he wanted to see his father more. He'd missed him, even knowing what the man was capable of. Perhaps because he'd not chased him or Veronika. That he'd loved them enough to let them run away. "Good," he said simply. "I have a feeling whoever it is, this fool, is severely disturbed. And completely without a rhyme or reason to his methods."
He nodded. "I do not know much about him," he admitted. "Just what has been leaked into news reports. Which must be taken with a grain of salt. I will watch for him, but killing him would bring no rest. Even if I left his body to be found, there is nothing to let them know he's the killer. The public would not be any safer, and it would just invite other fools to copy his methods. It must be done properly, so that people will feel safe and vindicated." It was a difficult thing to understand, but true.
Pasha sighed a little. His father was right, again. No one would know that a random dead body was actually the killer. They'd assume it was his next victim and if anything it would just enthuse a series of copycat killers to pick up where the real killer had left off. "It will have to run its course," he said, nodding slightly. "How are you?" he asked. "Where have you been staying?"
It was not something Sasha wanted to be right about. If simply finding the man and destroying him would solve the issue, he would be doing that now. It was not that simple. It rarely was. Sasha nodded grimly, then quirked a brow at the questions. "I am still here," he said with a shrug. "I have been making my home in a motel. I have even less needs than I used to. I'm fine."
A motel. Even for a vampire, that wasn't a decent life. "I'm sure living in a motel isn't satisfactory," he commented. "How long do you plan to stay in town?" He was curious just how long his father intended to hang around. What he planned to do while he was there. He'd not expected to see him a second time, but now that he had, he found himself worrying more so about the man, even if he was a vampire and powerful enough to do some damage to anyone who dared try and cross him.
Sasha shrugged. "I have lived worst places," he reminded his son. "It is acceptable." As for the second question, he had no answer for that. "I do not know. I am merely existing at this point. I have been watching the news, trying to get a feel for the political climate of America. Understand this land better. I will move on when I have no reason to stay here." Pasha didn't understand, and Sasha did not want to say he had no reason to live now, because his son would try to dissuade him with platitudes.
He supposed that much was true. Sasha had likely lived in the worst slums imaginable over the years, no doubt. That didn't make Pasha any less unhappy with the thought of his father being in such a situation. "Will you tell me if you decide to move on?" he questioned. He wanted to know that his father was alive if at all possible, even if he didn't stay in America.
Actually, he was referring to months as a prisoner of his sire. Sasha had usually lived in fairly decent areas, although he was prone to combing slums for supers hunting the unfortunates of those places. Sometimes supers were driven insane by their powers and ended up on the streets. He'd put more than one of those miserable creatures to a swift, merciful end. Sasha nodded at the question. "If it is possible, before I leave," he promised. "If not, I will contact you as soon as I can." He was a little surprised at Pasha's concern for his unlife. "I will not end my own wretched existence," he added softly. "I will not cause you or your sister that sort of pain. I took one parent from you, I will not take the other."
Pasha was thankful for that one small glimmer of the man whom he'd loved so dearly as a child and a young adult. "Thank you," he told the man simply. He had yet to tell Veronika of their father or his fate. She'd been so young when they'd fled that he'd tried to spare her from as much of the tale as he could. Now, however, he was starting to believe that perhaps it was time to come clean to the woman and give her the choice of what she'd like to do. "I'm going to tell Ronnie," he said after a long moment, sighing and pushing his hand through his hair. "She has a right to know the truth. About everything that happened. She has a right to see you if she so chooses. I've tried to protect her from you, from all of it, but it's not fair to keep parts of her from her."
If he ever lost that bit of him, Sasha would truly have become one of the monsters and there would be nothing left for him in this world. Hopefully, another hunter, someone, would see fit to destroy him if that happened. He frowned softly, not sure if this was a good turn of events either. "What does she know of me?" he said. Veronika had been a child when their family was ripped apart. Seven. Such a sweet little girl. Sasha had been gotten a chance to spend any time with her, between work and hunting. But before he asked to meet her, to be there when all was explained, he wanted to know what to expect.
"She knows what she remembers," he told him. "But I'm fairly certain she doesn't really know anything about why we left. I always told her that mother had died and you'd been stricken with grief and couldn't take care of us. Which I suppose is true. I just left out that you murdered her to keep her from hurting. I didn't bring her back to the house, didn't want her to know, didn't want her to see. It was easier and seemed more beneficial for me to keep it to myself," he explained.
"I'm unsure if I did right by her in that regard, but I tried my best. She was too young and fragile and her world was happy and carefree and it was hard enough to tell her that mother had died. But that was far easier to speak of than the truth. I didn't think she'd understand and when she grew up she asked every once in a while about you and about mother and I told her the same thing. Eventually I'm almost certain that I believed the story myself." He sighed a little and shook his head. "But she's a beautiful, intelligent woman now and she's got the ability to decide for herself what is right for her. It is wrong of me to keep you from her if she wishes to know her father."
Sasha nodded. "You did right," he confirmed. "She suffered enough. You both did." That was the main reason he regretted his actions that day. Murdering the woman he loved, her betrayal, had hurt enough. Knowing he'd robbed his children of a family had nearly undone him more than once. "She is too old for the lies told to a child to protect them from the world. I would like to be there when you tell her. So I can explain my side. I do not expect understanding or forgiveness, but she deserves the entire tale, just as you did."
"I don't know if you'll get understanding or forgiveness from her," Pasha told him honestly. "But you have it from me. I've thought long and hard about how I feel about the situation. I've spent the time since we last spoke wondering how I'd have felt if put in your position. I've tried to make myself understand what was going through your head when you did what you did. I guess over the years I just made myself accept that you'd killed her because she was a witch but when you didn't do the same to me, I realized that wasn't the reason at all. I don't think that she should have died, I don't believe that is right or just or what should have occurred, but I can understand the rage that must have went through you to know that she'd lied. That your whole life together had been a lie." That much he could understand. He'd spared his children. He'd let them both go and not followed them or tried to hurt them in any way. Despite Pasha's anger about his mother's death, and though he didn't believe it was justified, it wasn't without reason.
He didn't expect it from either of his children. Sasha winced as his son began to recount the events that tore their family apart. "No, you cannot," he told Pasha. "You cannot understand it until you're in that place, that moment in time. And for the love of all that is holy, I pray you are never in that place, Pasha. In that moment, you just react, and how you react can destroy so much." He rose from where he is was sitting. Sasha didn't like to think about that day, let alone speak openly about it. He never claimed murdering Fedora was right or just. But lingering on it did no good. He could not go back and change the past. Nor was he certain he'd want to. His family was torn apart that day, regardless of if he hadn't killed his wife. The lies she'd told, the way she'd made their children lie to him in some delusion of protecting them from him. Sasha would have never been able to trust her again. His life was destroyed in that moment. Whether she lived or died would never change that. "I should go," he said stiffly. "I have interrupted your plans for the evening long enough."
Pasha rose from his own chair when his father did and simply nodded a little at his words. "As you wish," he told the older man. "You know where to find me. Oh, and here," he said, taking a moment to find his wallet and retrieving a card. He handed it to his father. "My number. So you can get in touch if you do decide to skip town," he explained. It was much easier to just try and have some sort of relationship with his father while he was alive than to know that he was and ignore his presence in the world.
Sasha took the card with a nod. "I will call you once a week," he explained. "That way you can tell me when you wish to speak to Veronika. Or speak with me." He tucked it into the pocket of his jacket. "Be well, Pasha," he said as he headed for the door. These discussions were always difficult. He only had his children in his life again when he no longer had a life worth living. Wasn't even technically living. The injustice stung, but then, perhaps this was his punishment for murdering his wife. He didn't know, and lingering on it did no good. "Good night."
Nodding at his father's words, he managed a very small try at a smile. "I'll call Veronika. See when she's available to come down for a visit." He didn't want to toss too much at his sister at once, but she did deserve an explanation from the mouth of her father. He might have been a murderer, but at least he'd never really lied about it. "Good night," he said as he followed his father to the door. "Be well."