|Svetlana Sergievskaya causes lyrical chess wars (thegirlisme) wrote in wariscoming,
@ 2012-02-16 13:52:00
|anatoly sergievsky, svetlana sergievsky
Who: Anatoly and Svetlana Sergievsky
What: The fall out from the run in with Molokov. So a lot of panicking and finding out loopholes.
Where: Sergievsky apartment
When: Afternoon of the 16th, immediately after this.
Rating: Fairly low
Status: Part One.
She didn’t know how she had managed to keep her calm on the street. Oh sure, back in Moscow in their own time, she was used to holding herself together while around Molokov on the streets. But in their own time, there hadn’t been the talk of gulags for her and Anatoly, their daughters being placed into orphanages. And there certainly hadn’t been the memories of being forced in his bed and losing her self respect and dignity. Words hadn’t been spoken to bring up everything she had feared and worried about. Hadn’t brought up the countless arguments with the wrong version of her husband. Back in Moscow, the extent of threat to her family wasn’t nearly as prevalent.
Yes, she knew that Molokov had been around since she first showed up. At least, she was pretty certain of that. Maybe not so much anymore. After all, she had never been so aware of his presence as she had been in that confrontation. Her skin burned where he had touched her, kissed her. The burning sensation mostly situated where his hands and lips had made contact yet it spread through out her, making her sick. She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t be going through this again! The PTSD was far from under control but she could manage it. This? Actually speaking to him? Hearing his voice, his scent, his touch, his lips on her hand. It wasn’t just memories, it had happened and she couldn’t handle that. Of course Svetlana hadn’t shown any sign of weakness to the rat bastard, but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t on the verge of a complete melt down. This wasn’t just anger at a friend for over stepping his bounds to the point where she refused to speak to him, from forcing her to create her walls and deconstruct them violently. This was so much more. Too much pain and history.
Finally managing to get back to the complex without breaking down on the street or in the lobby, Svetlana quickly hurried to the apartment she shared with Anatoly on the second floor, not paying mind to anyone who might be passing by. She was too close to the edge, she couldn’t do this. What was she going to do? She couldn’t tell Anatoly, he’d find out if she said anything to her husband. Somehow, the rat bastard always found out. If he didn’t have his resources it would be harder but she still couldn’t risk it. Couldn’t risk him finding out about the girls. Freddie? That was a possibility. It was only not to tell Anatoly, Molokov didn’t know the American was here, or Florence but no, she wouldn’t go to Florence. There were others here, of course, but Freddie was the one who knew who Molokov actually was and would be unexpected. Then there was alerting the others that a member of the KGB had come through the seal. But would he be seen as a threat? He wasn’t a villain in the common sense of the word. He worked intelligence and would do whatever was beneficial to him. He was just the villain in the story of the Sergievskys and countless others who had their lives ruined by him in Russia.
With the door closed behind her, Svetlana’s walls crashed. She was shaking violently, freezing. First she moved to the computer to send a warning out but she couldn’t get herself to focus enough to post anything coherent. Certainly not coherent in English. She was up and down from the computer trying to make it happen and failing. Her breathing was erratic. Getting up again, the blond made her way to the kitchen. Tea. Tea would fix this. Tea couldn’t fix this but she was going to try. Filling up the kettle with water, Svetlana went to the stove only for the shaking of her hands to cause her to drop the kettle with a crash. She was thankful the girls weren’t here and it seemed she was alone. Because this was a new level of falling apart even for Svetlana. But there was too much happening in her mind. She couldn’t handle this. Bending down, she started to clean up the spilled water before straightening and placing the kettle on the counter. Maybe she couldn’t make tea. So she started washing her hands violently. She wanted to shower, she needed to shower. The room was spinning. Contingency plans within contingency plans he had said. Like he always would. Even here in the future. She couldn’t see straight, couldn’t breathe. The one thing she had feared above all else, it was happening and it was so much worse now.
Whimpering slightly even though she never whimpered, Svetlana grasped the edge of the counter tightly to keep from collapsing to her knees. What was she going to do?
With the girls at school and Svetlana out, Anatoly had mostly stuck around the apartment. He’d done some research on the internet, mostly just reading up on this or that. He was, after all, still learning about the different opportunities people had in this day and age. Once he’d gotten what he was looking for, Anatoly went and turned on the television, turning to the History channel. He liked the various programs they had, especially the ones that focused on the various wars of the 20th Century. It was refreshing to see some of those events when they weren’t spun for the propaganda that had existed in Russia.
By the time Svetlana had returned, Anatoly had turned the television off and was now in the bedroom sorting out his laundry, intending on doing a load or two. He didn’t give a second thought to Svetlana’s return, after all she had said she wouldn’t be out too long. And what reason did he have right now to think she was in danger? Or that they were in danger? Aside from the dangers of the whole Apocalypse thing, but that was besides the point. He felt a little safer now that the deranged man who wore clown make-up was gone. There was still Moriarty, but the city wasn’t nearly as chaotic as it had been with the Joker there.
Then he heard the crash in the kitchen. Now he was worried. Dropping what he had in his hands, Anatoly quickly made his way out to the kitchen to see Svetlana set the kettle back on the counter and lean against it. She was shaking visibly. Oh this was so far beyond not good it wasn’t even funny. Knowing she was in a very bad state of mind, he knew he had to try and get through whatever was going through her mind with words first, so she’d know he was there. Any other approach would have horrible consequences.
“Svetlana?” He asked, his voice gentle, but just loud enough to hopefully penetrate the chaos that was in her mind. He had never seen her like this before, not to this extent anyway. Had something happened to the girls? No, she would’ve come to him and said something right away or have called him. The only thing he could think of that made sense for her to be acting like this was something had triggered the memories of what had happened to her in the alternate reality. There was nothing else that could possibly make her react this badly. He needed a plan of action, which was easier said than done, but he could patch something together, go with his gut feeling. He knew how to interact with Svetlana when bad things happened to her, he just needed to find the right balance of being gentle and patient. Pushing would be a very bad idea right now. First and foremost, he needed to tend to the shattered exterior and the rampant emotions, needed to calm her down. How he wasn’t exactly sure yet, but it would be a start to get her to focus on him, to try and pull her mind out of whatever dark place it was currently in.
Of course Anatoly was able to quickly figure out what was wrong. Perhaps not the exact details, but he knew enough that the girls were safe. Or as safe as they could now be with Molokov making himself known. And she didn’t know if he’d been faking on the street or not in his lack of knowledge of where they were, of her family, of those who were there. Because he was right, if something had happened to them, she would have gone to him. And she most likely wouldn’t be having nearly as difficult a time breathing as she currently was having.
She heard his voice in the distance, but it was so far away that she wasn’t even certain he was really there. It was as if Anatoly was in the far background of her mind, calling out to her, trying to reach her but all of the emotions that were swirling around, the pain and fear and panic and sickness, they were all at the front, drowning him out and trying to send him away so he couldn’t reach out to her. Couldn’t anchor her and make her take a breath and calm down. Struggling for breath, Svetlana decided that she needed a shower. She was freezing and she felt violated all over again, worse than ever before in regards to the PTSD. She didn’t know if she would be responding this badly if Anatoly had been here when she first got back, then again, she may have actually processed things better but that wasn’t the case.
Pushing away from the counter, Svetlana first started pacing in agitation, tugging on her hair. She had done this a couple times before, when she broke down after seeing Chess while sick, when Dmitri had died. But she was moving at almost a manic pace trying to calm down, tugging and twisting her hair as she tried to breathe. Still not feeling Anatoly’s presence near by, Svetlana started to leave the kitchen, only to be met with Anatoly’s body, stumbling back. Breathing hitching even more if that were possible, she looked up and blinked as she realized that her husband was there.
“...Toly...” Gripping her wrists, she tried to calm down, but she couldn’t stop the damn shaking. Couldn’t stop the quick breathing, couldn’t bring her skin pallor to a more natural hue. Closing her eyes tightly, Svetlana bowed her head. If he saw into her eyes, he’d know the truth. Would that count? If Anatoly gleaned the information from her without her saying anything? Molokov had such a way with words... She knew when the threat was first leveled, she had contemplated finding a way to tell Anatoly non-verbally but she worried that somehow, Molokov would know that Anatoly learned from her and would find a way to make things worse for her here despite there being no gulags at his disposal.
She had to get away, because Anatoly would get the answers from her. He always got the answers from her. She may always beat him at chess unless she was distracted, but he always got her to talk even when she didn’t want to. But there was nowhere to go. He was blocking her way and he would want to know just what was wrong. It wasn’t fair. They finally had a moment where everything was okay. Yes, she’d been upset about Logan, her walls deconstructed too fast for her to handle, but in that moment, they had found one another again in a way she had worried would never be again. They made significant progress in their relationship and then he had to make himself known. Had to start with the threats and the doubts and fears and she couldn’t do this.
“It’s cold....” The words escaped her lips before she realized what she was saying, but it was better than what was going on. It was a random comment, but it wasn’t too unexpected. Her body temperature had a habit of fluctuating drastically when she was upset so the fact that she was more or less freezing despite the apartment not being cold was just more proof that something was wrong.
If there was anything that Anatoly was exceptionally being good at without really trying, it was gleaning information from just reading body language. Of course it only tended to work with Svetlana because aside from his daughters, she was the only person he even really knew well enough to do that with. Of course he was still at the stage of trying to figure out exactly what had happened, but he could tell it was linked to what she'd been through in the alternate universe. Otherwise she would've said something by now. And oh god the pacing. He'd seen it before when she'd been sick after watching Chess and when Dmitri had died, but even then, it hadn't been this bad. All right, so she was reacting to something, but what could've tripped the memories? That was the question. While his mind was racing to think of possible things that had set her off, he didn't think of the possibility that Molokov had shown up.
It was rather clear that she hadn't heard him, or if she had his voice was muffled by whatever was going on inside her mind. Still, he knew better than to physically approach her. Thus leaving him with talking until somehow his voice got through to her.
"It's all right, Svetlana, I'm here. Just try to focus on my voice, follow it back to me." And then she walked into him. Which, if given a different context, might have been a little funny because of what he'd just said moments before that, but here? He just took in her body language. No eye contact. Okay, she was hiding something, something he needed to find out exactly what it was so he could fix it. Because he wasn't going to let Svetlana shatter and fall now after they'd made progress together. He wasn't going to let this set them back. Why did this always happen, though? It seemed for every step forward they were able to take, they took ten steps backwards because of something like the alternate reality. It only made Anatoly angry at the things he had no power over, but it also made him more determined to help Svetlana. While he hadn't exactly believed he deserved a second chance with Svetlana, he needed the world to let him have it so they could have a relationship again, to be a family again. Though in this case, he had to first figure out what exactly had happened. Of all the possibilities that were running through his mind, Molokov was definitely not one of them. While he well knew the Seal could send people here at any time, his mind wasn't going there yet. Instead, he was trying to think of more mundane things that might've triggered Svetlana.
So calming her down was essential because of the way she was shaking and her comment about being cold. How to do that when he didn't know what the stressor was? "I could make some tea for you." Because tea was always good, though he knew she'd have trouble holding the cup, but tea was always calming for them both. It was also relaxing and at least the scent could also be calming. So tea it would be if Svetlana gave him a positive response. Yes he could all ready assume it was fine since she'd obviously tried to make some herself when she'd dropped the kettle, but still, he knew his voice was calming, and he was going to try the talking to her thing until she gave him some indication of what had happened.
First things first, breathing. Above all else, Svetlana had to breathe. But even as she focused her breathing, the blond kept clenching and unclenching her fists, twisting her wedding band as she kept her gaze focused on the ground for the moment. She had to find a way to tell him without telling him. She was good at being evasive and giving answers as she did with Molokov on a regular basis, but this was going to be different. Extremely different, but if she could keep information via words from someone like the rat bastard who didn’t know how to read her, surely she could tell Anatoly something without actually saying it. The easiest way would be through chess but she didn’t have the mental stamina to even consider a game at the moment. She was too anxious to sit still.
Finally looking up, the blond brushed her hair out of her face, not realizing that there were faint red marks around her neck from where Molokov had ripped the amulet from her. She knew she needed a new one on a subconscious level but she was too distracted right now to think about that. Okay. Tea. He mentioned tea. She could work with this. Hopefully she would be able to hold a cup this time if Anatoly got around to making the tea, that is.
“I guess... but no sandwiches. I don’t have the stomach to eat anything...”
Okay, it was vague, but he’d made her a sandwich when he had returned from the alternate dimension and she hadn’t been able to eat then, either. True, it would just confirm the fact that something had triggered her, but this was more than that. Oh so much more than that. Pressing her lips together, Svetlana looked to the side, rubbing her elbow where Molokov had initially grabbed her, she could hear his voice in her mind, his words, calling her his sweet Svetlana, which made her shudder all over again.
When Svetlana said yes to tea, he nodded. Though the comment about sandwiches confused him a little. He hadn’t said anything about sandwiches. He was about to dismiss it when he remembered he’d made her a sandwich after returning from the alternate world. Was that a clue? Perhaps it was. It would depend on what she said next. But first things first, making tea. He went and grabbed the kettle, turned the stove on and set the kettle on it to boil the water. He then went to one of the cupboards and looked through the teas they had, going for one that had a heavy dose of calming effect in it. Upon finding one, he pulled it out along with two cups and set them on the counter.
He turned back to Svetlana and then noticed the red marks on her neck and the lack of the amulet. Oh shit, well that wasn’t good at all. “What happened to the amulet?” He was now thinking some asshole had accosted Svetlana, though the marks on her neck were the only physical sign of such an encounter. Though if possible, he was on higher alert now, ready to try and track down whoever took the amulet and punch them out for traumatizing his wife. But that wasn’t going to help anything right now. So he had to just keep his cool and try to piece together what had happened. Though perhaps she hadn’t been mugged, she wouldn’t be this bad unless they tried to do something like what she’d experienced in the alternate world. But a quick scan of her clothes said otherwise. Okay, that was all right. So now it was just finding what had actually happened. He was going to see what Svetlana’s response to his question was, see if he could discern anything from that. He had it on good authority she wasn’t about to tell him plainly what had happened.
Did he realize she was trying to tell him what had happened but that her hands were tied? He hadn’t questioned the sandwich comment but that didn’t mean that it registered. He could simply assume that she was just in shock and saying random things. Which... was sort of accurate. What she was saying was definitely random that there wasn’t any obvious basis for what she was saying. But that was what she had to do. He would understand once he figured it out. If he figured it out... if he didn’t, she’d have to go through Freddie as she had a feeling he would say something despite the animosity between the two former World Champions of Chess.
Or, Anatoly could notice that she was missing her amulet, which gave her the automatic reaction of reaching up to grasp the amulet despite it being gone. Okay, that wasn’t exactly good because he would most likely press for more information but he was also right that she wasn’t going to tell him in straight forward terms. She wanted to, and had she not been threatened by the rat bastard, she would have. But the fact remained that Molokov would always find out if she say something.
“It was taken... I should have turned left.”
Svetlana didn’t know how much Anatoly remembered of the day they met Molokov. Didn’t know if he remembered that it had been the decision to turn right and go to the park in that direction that had led them to the man who destroyed their marriage by feeding Anatoly’s pride and sending him women to distract him from his family, all the while turning him into nothing more than the machine he had been for five years until they had shown up here and he started to humanize again. Why she remembered that specific a detail, even the blond didn’t know. Most likely because she had spent nights agonizing on what they could have done differently so that the gap between them hadn’t been so wide. So that it would have been easier to come back from everything that had happened.
The fact remained though, they hadn’t turned left and had met Molokov. And because she hadn’t turned left this time (or had she, honestly, Svetlana didn’t know but it was important for the clue), she had run into him again. And now she was panicking because of the threats and insinuations and the body and mental images on top of her own insecurities he had brought back to the surface despite the progress Anatoly and Svetlana had made in regards to their marriage on Valentine’s Day of all days.
All right, so it was either going to be play the guessing game of what Svetlana was trying to say, or just assume she was making random comments due to the stress. Right now, Anatoly wasn’t sure which theory would get him further in this until Svetlana said more. It was hard to tell from her body language, which was strange for him. He could almost always glean the context from just the way Svetlana carried herself, but right now? All he could get was that she was incredibly upset, which wasn’t exactly all that helpful as he all ready knew that.
Which then brought him to the comment of she should’ve turned left. Turned left. Why did that have a somewhat familiar ring to it? There had been many forks in the road they had come to along the way, if she was in fact giving him clues and painting him a picture of what had happened, what specific fork was she referring to? His brow furrowed in thought as he thought back through things. Obviously it wouldn’t be from during the time he was with Molokov, it would’ve been before. But there hadn’t been many forks, except....wait. What about that day they’d met Molokov?
“Why didn’t you go right?” So he wasn’t getting a straight answer, so he asked that, which was a clue his brain was starting to put the clues together. He was refraining from saying Molokov’s name out loud having known what Svetlana had suffered at his hands in that alternate world, and the whole point of this was to understand what had happened and calm her down, not push her further over the edge. So this was his response, and hopefully the intent of the question was clear.
Svetlana was growing worried that Anatoly might not pick up on what was going on. That he might just think she was in shock and the belief that he truly did still know her was, in fact, a lie. And now of all times she could not handle that. Now of all times she needed some sort of support. She would accept it this time. Just as she had been wanting to have it when she first showed up in Lawrence following the alternate Moscow. The only reason she knew that this version of Molokov was from their world was because he mentioned her part of the deal, the threats. There had been nothing about her going behind his back to try and get Anatoly to lose as opposed to crushing him herself. No. He didn’t know about that and so help her, he would not. It was bad enough how he referred to her. She didn’t need him getting ideas.
Thankfully though, it seemed as though Anatoly picked up on the comment of turning left. Because she could keep with the word play. Sometimes they had done this just to keep one another on their toes. Sometimes because they couldn’t say what they wished to for whatever reason and they weren’t near a chess board, so verbal chess it became. And now? Now it was a matter of the girls remaining safe. Svetlana didn’t know what Molokov would do if he found out she told Anatoly he was there, but the bastard also wasn’t expecting Anatoly to be able to figure things out by just reading Svetlana’s body language. Or the fact that she was extremely closed off which meant something. Molokov didn’t realize how far Anatoly had come in becoming human once again in the eight months they’d been here.
Still, she was so incredibly cold, and so the petite blond wrapped her arms around herself as a means to try and stay warm as well as try to hide. She hated feeling so weak and afraid. But Molokov was the one man she feared. Well, truly feared. Even here because of the alternate Moscow, because she knew he’d find a way to regain his power over them all.
“The book store I wished to go to was under construction so I had to go right to go to the other one...”
Bookstore was now a metaphor for the parks in Moscow. She tried to keep her voice steady, but it shook, betraying the chaos her mind was still spinning around her to suffocate her with. She was trying to focus on Anatoly’s voice, his presence. The fact that they were safe in the complex, but between what happened on Valentine’s Day and the girls currently at school while their future selves were doing who knew what.... It was a complete mess. She couldn’t protect them. She was powerless all over again. Waiting. And that just caused the hyperventilating to start up again as she tightly closed her eyes and looked down. She had tried to be closed off. Had tried to hide in herself but this was the last straw. The mother in Kentucky because of Moriarty, everything that had happened with Logan in the span of a week. Now Molokov.
This wasn’t anything new to Anatoly, they had played word chess before, usually when they didn’t have the exact words to say what they wanted or there was someone within earshot that they didn’t want knowing what they were really talking about. It had been a while since Anatoly had last done this, but the fact he’d all ready picked up on a couple of the clues and knew this was what Svetlana was doing? That said it all right there. He could still read her and keep up with her. He was making great strides in becoming human again, and the longer he was around Svetlana and his girls, regardless of which version of the girls were around, the more he got to be the man he wanted to be, the man they all deserved to have.
Bookstore under construction. Ah yes, metaphor for the construction that had them turn right instead of left that day. There was a light of realization in his eyes. All right, so now he needed a response that told Svetlana he knew what she was talking about without saying Molokov’s name outright. “Sadly with the bookstore being under construction, it left only the option of the Black Knight’s Cauldron.” Which was his metaphor for the park where they subsequently met Molokov. So the bastard had actually shown up, had he? Of course, Anatoly would’ve been suspicious and thought it was that shadow or illusion or whatever it was that Svetlana had been seeing every so often. But now that Svetlana was missing her necklace? He couldn’t exactly think that anymore. So the bastard was here, and Anatoly immediately was on the defensive, determined to not let his family come to harm. He wasn’t going to lose it all now, especially when the KGB asshole had no power in this place.
And then Svetlana was with the hyperventilating again. “Focus on me, my voice, breathe with me.” And then the kettle started whistling as the water was ready. He took the kettle and poured the water into both cups, turned the stove off, then added the tea bags. When they were ready, he picked one cup up and turned to Svetlana. “Here, drink this. It should help.” He wasn’t sure if she’d be able to hold the cup, but he held it out to her, prepared to hold it to her lips if need be, or for her to take it.
Oh thank goodness, he got it. He still understood. He still knew her, could still see the heart in her that she tried so hard to keep hidden because she was trying to protect herself. The progress they had made had been real, just as she had felt when they had made it. Had said words they hadn’t spoken in years. There had been that small part of her that had been afraid that it was all a lie. Especially after her run in with Molokov, saying Anatoly had grown bored of Florence and knew he could come back without issue. Of Logan saying that she had gone running back to her husband. They were both so incredibly wrong.
“I know.... though I never did like those who would go there. They always were so underhanded...Discussing survival in gulags and orphanages...”
She knew the metaphor. They were still on the same page. Which was good. Especially once the panic set in at full force again. The threats of gulags and orphanages. His presence in general. This was not just because she thought she had seen him. Even after the other experience, she had never reacted this violently to seeing Molokov across the street, in the shadows. This was beyond any reaction she had been known to have since October.
Perhaps she shouldn’t have mentioned the implicit threats made but it went with their metaphor, and she needed him to understand why she wasn’t out right saying anything. Why she was so afraid. This was beyond the pain of memories. This was the fear of the future and their children and their lives for Svetlana’s failure to get Anatoly to lose. And that was why she had started to panic all over again.
Thankfully, Anatoly’s voice was able to draw her out some, just as it always had been able to. She didn’t necessarily hear his words, which normally would earn him at least a look if not a sarcastic comment on her not being in labor, but her mind was in too much chaos to really process that. Seeing the tea given to her, Svetlana managed to grasp it though her hands shook. She wasn’t going to be completely unable to take care of herself just because she was upset. So she managed to sip the tea before placing it on the counter. She wanted to slide down and just sit on the floor and probably should with her legs shaking so badly, but she couldn’t. Even now, knowing Anatoly was there, she couldn’t let herself be that weak again. She just couldn’t.
They were both on the same page, this was very good. So at least they had that part of things straight. Now he was waiting for the why she was telling him this way, which he knew was coming. It was their logical progression in the conversation, which for anyone else meant absolutely nothing, but to them? It was almost a normal conversation. Again, it went into the fact that they didn’t exactly have a normal relationship, though Anatoly wouldn’t have it any other way. They had always complimented each other, understood each other even if they hadn’t quite known or understood how they managed to do that.
And there was the why. So the bastard was threatening her and the girls again. Well, threatening all four, or was it seven?, of them. Anatoly wasn’t going to stand for this. The man had no power here, and here he could protect his family from Molokov without fearing the KGB dragging both him and Svetlana off to prison for one reason or another. He would not come between them here.
“They really are underhanded.” He somehow managed to keep his anger towards Molokov completely out of his voice. Getting angry now wouldn’t do anything good, so he kept his tone gentle and soothing, trying to help Svetlana keep ahold of it and come further out of the chaos in her mind. “But here, there is no gulag to fear.” Which was his code of saying he wouldn’t let Molokov hurt them, and reminding her that the man was utterly alone in this world. There was no KGB to have his back. With any luck, perhaps the man would encounter a demon that would just end him on the spot. Or some monster would find him and rip him apart. But that was wishful thinking, he knew this, but he could still entertain the ideas anyway.
It would indeed probably be best for Svetlana to sit down. “Why don’t we sit down on the couch?” He suggested gently, not wanting her legs to give out, and he could tell she was in danger of collapsing with how badly she was shaking. And at least if they were sitting, it could at least help the calming down thing a little more.
Anatoly being angry would just have a counterproductive effect all things considered given Svetlana’s presence state of mind. So instead she just focused on Anatoly’s voice to try and calm down. To stay grounded in the present, the apartment they were standing in. The kitchen. The tea cup in her hands. She heard his reassurances, but Anatoly knew Molokov. He knew the man would do anything he could to rebuild his power. Perhaps he would not be able to send them to a gulag here, but he could still find a way to destroy them if he really put his mind to it.
“No gulags, perhaps....” But that didn’t mean much to a man like Molokov. He was intelligent, vastly so. He could find a way to make this place work for him, to gain power. Because he would always have it over them should they have the daughters at risk or one another. He would always be able to control them that way.
Then there was the offer of sitting on the couch. Yes, that was a good plan. Between the shaking and on and off again hyperventilating, standing really wasn’t in Svetlana’s best interests at the moment. So instead she just sighed and started to the couch, her legs giving out once she got there, much as they had when she’d been sick. Placing the cup on the table, Svetlana pulled her legs up to try and disappear into the couch with. She knew it wouldn’t work, but she still tried anyway. She was just so tired and cold. The tea wasn’t working. It should be but it wasn’t. Because she knew that they were powerless in the end. They needed to warn the complex, the displaced. But she couldn’t even focus in English to try. She couldn’t do much of anything at the moment. Dragging the blanket from the top of the couch down, Svetlana just wrapped it around her shoulders, hoping it would quell the shivering and shaking, but it didn’t. The coldness went beneath her skin, into her blood and soul and she hated it.
Anatoly was fully aware of just how resourceful and intelligent Molokov was. When he wanted something, he would do anything to get it. Yes this was America, but there wasn’t much of anything to keep him from organizing his own criminal underworld, to gather people who would readily work for him. But they needed to warn the rest of those who were displaced and fighting the war. As long as they were aware of Molokov’s presence and potential danger, they could at least have allies. They weren’t completely alone here, not like they had been in Moscow those years ago. Here, there were people that would do whatever they could to keep Molokov from getting into the complex if properly warned.
“But here, there are back up plans to keep the manipulator at bay.” He was obviously referring to the others like them, the ones that lived in this place. It was going to be difficult convincing Svetlana of that, he knew this, but he was reminding her they weren’t completely alone. Anatoly was also going to assume that Svetlana hadn’t told Molokov about the complex, otherwise no doubt the man would’ve made an appearance here by now or have come with Svetlana.
Once they were on the couch, Anatoly looked at Svetlana, taking a slow breath. He wanted to know if Molokov had revealed anything of his plans, aside from trying to get at them, to Svetlana, but he doubted it. Molokov was too careful, it was difficult on the man’s worst days to get him to crack. Yet in this world, they had resources that Molokov probably had yet to fully realize even existed. But Anatoly wouldn’t turn to those methods just yet. He wanted to try and see what Molokov’s next move would be, try to anticipate it. But that was what Anatoly wasn’t so good at. They needed a united front now more than ever.
“I know it’s hard to believe right now, but we can stand against them here. There are more here than just you and me. We are not alone. This is not the world the black knight knows. We know it better than he does.” Part of him was just talking for the sake of Svetlana listening to his voice, the other part was trying to get this message through to her, try and get through the chaos to the rational part of her mind and help her realize they had an advantage here, albeit a slight one, for having been in this place longer and generally knowing how it worked.