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The man’s weary footsteps crunched through the snow. He was alone at the moment, not something he was particularly used to when above ground. But he was searching for someone.
One of his subordinates, Luka, approached him during the din and celebration of a war well won. There was a lingering strain in the room considering their shaky standing with the android brothers and the soldiers mourning the lost. Luka was close to many in the base, including Anya and Ivan. So when he reported that Anya was missing, something she seemed to have a knack for, Alexei recognized the badly disguised panic on his face.
This struck a chord in him somewhere. Their enemies were defeated, so there was no reason for Anya’s absence. A sudden sense of dread brought Everly’s warning ringing in his ear. He remembers her concern about the limits to Anya’s immortality and he recalls his sister’s tired shakiness the last time he saw her. Alexei had a good idea of where she went.
The creaking of the iron gate echoed loudly in the quiet streets. The last time he had been here was a harsh beginning masked as a devastating end. Alexei didn’t like remembering that day. A day filled with empty apologies and words spit in a fit of rage. Yet as he walked past the rows of tombstones, the air felt peaceful. If he remembered correctly, it was snowing on that day as well.
He recalls yelling at Anya, the blame he placed on her, his anger at her absence, many of this he still felt despite all of his efforts to close himself off emotionally. She had left him to deal with the funeral alone. He stood in line and tolerated the hugs and the pitied gazes. Yet she had the audacity, after everything she did, to ask for help from him. For a bed and some company. She’d placed him in the position of having to be the strong one despite dealing with the same burden as her. Dealing with his failure in protecting their baby sister.
It doesn’t surprise him at all to find Anya crumpled against their sister’s gravestone. He saw her cheek resting atop the stone slab supporting her full weight. Her arm draped over the top of the stone slab in what looked like an embrace and was probably as close to holding her sister as would get.
Alexei’s breath caught at his sister's still form, unable to tell if she was lucid, or even yet still lived. It was a sobering thought, that even in her final moments Anya sought out the one she missed the most, needed the most. No, it wasn’t her soulmate, his second in command, nor any android or human friend she had made along the way. She had chosen her final moments to be near their sister, with her in a way. All alone regardless.
Alexei stepped in front of her and a shock went through him when she shifted, so she was still alive after all. This was about to get difficult. It was clear that it took a lot of energy for her to lift her head, and when her eyes met his he saw how hazy and tired they were. Her body was still in the process of giving out. Despite this, she recognized him and her tranquil, sorrowful expression never wavered.
Suddenly Alexei didn’t know what to do. He had not come with a game plan, he was expecting to find what remained of her. He was never too in-touch with his emotions, and he was even worse at expressing them. He had many issues with his little sister in the past, but despite how much effort he put into shutting the emotional side of his brain off to survive and lead, a small part of him that identified with being the eldest sibling scratched at the back of his head. In the war it was easy to suppress, to deny and move along. But this was different.
This was his little sister’s final moments. His last living family. He needed some level of tact.
“I miss her, Alexei,” the woman before him rasped weakly. She was quiet and looked so small, yet it was clear she wasn’t afraid. She had died many times before in far more violent ways than this. Perhaps she felt a sense of peace at leaving one last time.
“I know, sister,” he responded, biting back at the bitterness gnawing lightly at him. He couldn’t help it when they spoke of their sister, in her resting place, when Anya had been the one to cause their sister’s death. He didn’t let it show though. “I do too,” he admitted.
“Listen… brother, I-”
“You don’t have to say anything, Anya,” he interrupted her. It was true but mostly he didn’t want to talk about it. If they dug up the issues between them it would take a while, and he had never been the best at talking about his feelings. She, in particular, didn’t have much time either. So he hoped his presence was enough to soothe their frayed edges.
She looked at him for a moment, observing him in her worn state. Then she lowered her head back down on the stone. It seemed to be a comfort to her. He wouldn’t tell her this, despite the situation, but it had been a comfort for him before too.
They sat in silence together as her breathing slowed. He didn’t speak further or touch her. The brows that had been knitted together on her face seemed to relax slowly into a peaceful expression. Despite this her face still displayed a sliver of yearning, she was likely thinking about her old life before the war.
This thought made him angry, that she was leaving once again. When she popped back into his war-torn world she had screamed and cried that she couldn’t handle being alone. Yet he’d been alone the entire two and a half decades. Their mother gone, youngest sister gone, middle sister presumed dead, father incapacitated, and all of his friends dead. All that remained of his soulmate, his last remaining hope of something worth living for turned into a row of ugly, ash-colored X’s maring his wrist. He’d put all of his effort into throwing up walls. He needed to learn to survive. He didn’t need a family.
And yet a scratch of jealousy itched at him when he saw Ivan guiding his younger brother from room to room each day. The feeling chafed further when he saw Everly’s daughter run away from the medical bay after visiting her mother. He had watched others create makeshift families with the friends they’d come across, but he didn’t have that luxury.
He spent 25 years alone looking out for himself. He was very good, prided himself even, at shutting off sections of emotions in order to make harsh choices. The choices necessary to prevent death, to keep himself alive, and to keep the people he protected alive. She had no idea how much responsibility rested on his shoulders to keep the people of the north alive. He made the difficult decisions so no one else would have to. He didn’t realize his hands had curled into fists on his bent knees.
She represented everything he resented. In her timer. In her views of the androids despite the war he waged. The war she never had to live through. He’d been hardened whereas she still had the trusting, smooth touch of a life lived in peace.
Even her face brought him a mix of irritation and guilt. She looked exactly as she had when their sister passed. She hadn’t aged, hadn’t experienced the hardships of war, didn’t understand his struggles to survive, to lead, to keep everyone in the base alive. The responsibility that went with that role was immense and she handled many of those matters recklessly.
Not to mention she still looked similar to their youngest sister. He hated to dwell on it, but he saw their sister whenever he looked at Anya. They shared the same hair and facial structure. They even had a similar voice, Anyas being just a little lower. The only difference was Anya’s green eyes and freckles. It was like being home again and it dragged up every memory he worked to avoid. To bury.
He remembered the anger and conflict that flared when he watched Ivan grow protective of Anya. Seemingly protecting her from him and the measures he needed to take. The redhead should have known better though. Ivan, ever the proud soldier, was confident in his ability to read people. But Alexei knew his sister better than him. He knew how dangerous she could be and how quick she was to make risky decisions.
Guilt ebbed at him again for this. He shouldn’t be thinking this way. He wasn’t sure if she would get back up this time, but he assumed she came here for a reason. That her body was telling her that this time she wouldn’t rise again. He’d grown accustomed to seeing her gasp and throw herself back to her feet, perfectly fine despite his own humane struggles against mortality.
The air filled with Anya’s soft exhales. They were growing slow and labored. He curled his hands into fists again and closed his eyes. After fighting from the beginning to the end of this war he thought he would be more accustomed to death.
The air felt light despite the range of thoughts berating his head. Soon, snow began to fall around them. He recalled when they lowered their sister’s body into the ground. Anya had arrived late and he’d thrown a brief glance her way to see a late mess clad in blue scrubs. Hurriedly brushing the snow from her ponytail, she stood out in the crowd of black that day.
Unlike the last time they’d been here, she made no effort to brush the crown of flakes gathering on her hair. He knew she was running out of energy so he extended his own hand, wiping it off for her. Her lids lifted and her gaze met his. Her eyes were duller now, a shadow of the vibrant green she had shared with their father.
It struck him that when she escaped Dreamscape they were in a similar position. His hand on her head, patting the surface and offering assurance. In reality he had been checking for the bullet wound Irina said might be there but he pushed that thought from his head as Anya’s eyes closed again before him. She was tired. He was at a loss for words, so he pulled his hand back and sat with her in the silence shared between them.
In that brief moment a part of him missed having her as his sister. Before the war and before the family baggage. When they were younger and they looked out for each other. When she would sneak out of her room at night and ask him to tell her stories, many of which he’d made up on the spot. She’d stopped coming when their sister was born and instead the two of them would wander into their baby sister’s room at night. Hushed giggled, hands reaching past crib bars, and whispered promises to protect each other.
His eyes slid closed as the memories continued to play in his mind, and he took a moment to relish in the happiness of his upbringing. Times were simpler then, life was simpler then. Depending on how you looked at it, a life of death was simple too, and it was then he realized the silence of the world around him.
When she was no longer breathing, body still as it leaned against the sheet of rock, Alexei sat and waited until he knew she wasn’t getting back up. He was truly alone now. A split second of guilt made him realize he’d felt a pang of frustration towards her yet again. He’d grown used to having no attachments. Her sudden inclusion back into the life he rebuilt for himself, despite how short her time back was, left him feeling troubled in a way he wasn’t used to. All of that effort he put into building those walls were gone.
Alexei studied her, taking in the peaceful expression on her face and her cheek still smooshed against their baby sister’s gravestone. After a moment he stood and set a trek back to his office. There were several people who would want to know what happened. He made a note to grab a shovel on his way back. She’d want to be buried here.