Chapter Text
Nikolai never believed in Angels.
Not in the Heavens, not in Hell, not in whatever Gods were being preached at the time, not in anything of an unexplained power, no, Nikolai was never a religious man.
He didn't understand why so many people were desperate to believe in something so faulty. Why you would devote yourself to something you had no concrete proof of, why you would ever put your faith so blindly into entities who showed no proof of loving you.
He found the whole thing laughable. Who would be so pitiful and weak-willed as to put their own life into the hands of a make-believe force they claimed as their "Gods"?
So no, Nikolai never believed in Angels.
That was, until he met one Fyodor Dostoyevsky.
--
Nikolai remembered the day clearly. He had just gotten done with a job, not one he could recount, a mindless one given out to him by a random with money willing to spare. He had headed over to meet a friend, Bram Stoker.
Bram was a rather iffy person, in Nikolai's opinion. Bram never left his house, and when he did, it was to go to work or the library, somewhere Nikolai hated for it's silent atmosphere. Bram didn't make jokes, or like the same things as Nikolai, or enjoy being amongst others. Their personalities clashed drastically, they very rarely got along, and when they did it was because one was either too tired or too energized to have any sort of complaints. Nonetheless, Nikolai had grown fond of the others company, and he hoped Bram could say the same for him.
Bram worked at a Cemetery, hell knows why. Nikolai was pretty sure he was a groundskeeper or something, but if you asked him he probably wouldn't be able to tell you.
So that's where Nikolai was headed, because his friend couldn't be bothered to arrange any other place for the two to meet up. Nikolai wasn't really complaining, there was a sort of calming atmosphere to the place that he couldn't put his finger on, but it was definitely there.
Once arrived, Nikolai stepped up to the gate, prying it open with a little force, looking around until his eyes spotted Bram.
The other man was talking to someone Nikolai hadn't recognized, their frame towering over Bram's. It was truly a comical sight. Most people were taller than Bram, naturally. The man was short for his age, and his posture certainly didn't help the case, but the stranger was wearing heels, a couple inches tall at best. It made Nikolai chuckle.
He walked over, nodding his head to the stranger as he took his place beside Bram.
Bram paused, whatever he was saying cutting short as he turned his attention to Nikolai rather quickly, offering a half-hearted smile.
"Nikolai, I almost forgot about our plans." He greeted, offering a quick glance to the stranger. They hadn't moved from their position infront of Bram, shifting their weight as they leaned against a cane held firmly in their left hand.
"Who's your friend?" Nikolai questioned, shooting Bram a sharp look. He knew Bram hadn't forgotten, Bram never forgets these sort of things. Despite all the crap he spills about dreading their hangouts, Nikolai has seen Bram's calendar on multiple occasions, marking the days they've made plans for with little stars and clown stickers.
His friend was as much of a freak as he was, even if it was in a very different way.
Bram shot Nikolai a poorly concealed glare, a small smile slipping onto his face as he turned back to the stranger. "This is Fyodor, ah, Fyodor Dostoyevsky. Fyodor, this is my friend Nikolai."
The stranger, Fyodor, turned their attention to Nikolai briefly, offering a nod of acknowledgment.
Nikolai offered a smile back after a moment, unsure of whether or not he was intruding now. What if this was someone here to visit a family member? Bram didn't seem all too friendly with them.
"Ah, I was just on my way out, Stoker. Don't let me get in the way of any plans you two may have." Fyodor spoke up after a moment, an uncomfortable smile forcing its way onto their face. They straightened their posture once more.
"Oh-! Of course, Fyodor. I do hope you have a good evening, yes?"
Fyodor's smile faltered before turning into something a tad more genuine, nodding sharply. "Thank you, Bram. You as well. It was nice to meet you, Nikolai."
Nikolai nodded quickly, blinking in surprise as the other turned their attention towards him. "You too."
Fyodor stepped past the two and towards the gates after a moment, heels clicking in tandem with their cane against the stone paths. The sound grated Nikolai's ears, though not unkindly.
He let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding as Fyodor's frame disappeared, shoulders relaxing. "Who..?"
"A work colleague. Perhaps an old friend, if he ever considered us such." Bram answered, frowning softly at the gates. "I didn’t think he would be here today. Sorry about that."
Nikolai blinked, turning his gaze towards Bram, confused. "Why are you apologizing? They seemed friendly enough, for your standards atleast."
Bram shook his head, but offered no other response, clapping his hands as he turned to meet Nikolai's gaze. "Let's get headed on our way, yes? We'll miss the bus if we stand around all day."
Nikolai nodded after a moment, pushing his questions to the back of his head. He smiled something bright.
"Let's go then!"
--
A few days had passed since Nikolai and Bram had hung out. Since Nikolai had met Fyodor.
He was with his friend now, sitting in a booth at a noisy restaurant, waiting for their food.
The previous encounter had been lingering in his mind for days now. No matter what Nikolai did, he couldn’t seem to shake the thoughts away. Who was Fyodor, really? What business did they have that involved them with Bram?
Nikolai was made aware that Fyodor wasn't there on any sort of personal business. Bram didn't want him thinking he had disrespected the other in any way.
But that only left more questions. Bram didn't do much outside of his work at the Cemetery, and Bram had made it fairly clear that he wasn't all too fond of Fyodor, not enough for the two to be friends, not enough for Fyodor to visit him at work, so why were they there??
"Nikolai??"
He blinked, pulling his attention away from his thoughts as he turned to Bram, humming in acknowledgment. "Yes?"
"You seem distracted," Bram started, eyes uncertain. He shifted in his seat, glancing to the side before continuing. "If it's about the other day, I told you, you didn't disrespect the guy or anything. Even if you did, Fyodor isn't the type to hold a grudge against a stranger. He's not a very social person, either."
Nikolai's thoughts burned. He drew into himself as he mulled over his words, frown clear on his face. "Yes, you've said. But if that’s the case, why were you with them? What business do they have with you??"
Bram frowned, eyes turning away from Nikolai again. "What business I conduct with others, quite frankly, just isn't your business, Nikolai. But if you truly must know, Fyodor works under Fukuchi Ochi. He was discussing an arrangement with me on behalf of his boss."
Nikolai blinked, taken aback. Most people in their town knew of Fukuchi Ochi. He worked at the church, preaching about divinity and such. Nikolai was never interested in his work, seeing as he detested the idea of religion in its entirety. All he knew was that Fukuchi gave him the creeps, much like he did to everyone else who knew of him. He wasn't know for his kindness, that's for sure.
"Why are you working with him?"
Bram rose a brow, clearly unamused by the question. Nikolai swore he saw his friend smile for a split second before it disappeared. "I work at a cemetery, Nikolai. It only makes sense for the Church to want to make some kind of arrangement. Most religious folk around here make plans to get buried before death, I guess it's some sort of tie to their belief? I don't know. You know I'm no religious man."
"But you do believe in a higher power, don’t you?"
Bram shrugged, a half-hearted smile serving as an answer enough for Nikolai.
"Sure, I believe we go someplace after we die, I believe that there are tons of unexplained things in the world that don't make sense unless I believe in some sort of higher power, but I don't know what that higher power is. I don’t know what that afterlife is. I may believe in the belief that there's something out there out of my control working behind the scenes, but I don't consider myself a religious man, Nikolai."
He paused, glancing over to see Nikolai staring out the window, shoulders tense.
"What, do you consider yourself one?"
Nikolai scoffed at the question, shooting Bram an amused look as his friend turned to meet his gaze. "You already know the answer to that."
Bram raised his hands, smiling back at Nikolai. "Just checking."
Nikolai chuckled, relaxing into his seat as the two fell into a comfortable silence until their food arrived, the waiter setting their plates down before wishing them a nice meal and leaving.
"So, Fyodor? They work at the Church?"
"Dostoyevsky works under Fukuchi. I never said he works at the Church."
Nikolai tilted his head, an unspoken question clear in the air as Bram watched him carefully, cautious. He didn't want to be discussing Fyodor, that much was clear.
"Why are you so cautious? You've said Fyodor isn't one to hold grudges, It doesn't seem like they're much of a dangerous person."
Bram shook his head, eyes distant. "No, no, Fyodor isn't a threat in any way, not to me, not to you. Sure, he can be dangerous, he's smart, but that's not why I'm so hesitant to discuss him. Some things-, some things are better left unsaid, Nikolai. I just don't want you hanging around him. Your curiosity gets the best of you sometimes, and Fyodor doesn't associate with good people."
"Like Fukuchi?"
Bram grimaced.
"Like Fukuchi."