Friends in High Places

[Maksim Marveet]

Iásōn moved slow and steady. There was nothing to suggest a threat, yet Maksim shifted in his seat despite himself. He was utterly enthralled when the man in white knelt before him. Despite being unable to see a face behind the mask, he felt as if he was peering straight into the stranger’s eyes. He accepted the hand without even thinking about it. Then something wonderful happened. A flush of pleasant warmth suffused his entire body. It made him gasp in sheer surprise. A moment later, every inch of pain faded as if it was never there, and a rush floated dreamily through his head.

When it was done, Maksim touched his own face with as much gentility as he had when he first explored his injuries. He found cheeks plump and soft. Then he pushed his hand across his brow, dislodging a pile of curls from where they were swept back. His hands tested the prior injuries along his chest, only to find them healed as well, and he ripped open the hospital shirt to look down at himself.

When he looked back to Iásōn, it was with dumbfounded awe, which he then shared with Sofia and Pavel. They rose to their feet, and Maksim broke into a big smile. He then grabbed Iásōn for a big bear hug and three kisses on the American man's masked cheek.

“Огромное спасибо. Вы спасли меня. Я этого никогда не забуду.” He said in the rolling syllables of his childhood tongue.

When he released Iásōn, it was to surrender him back to Sofia and Pavel as he hurried to a mirror to go look at himself.




*A huge thank you. You saved me. I’ll never forget this

[Sofia Vasilieva]

Turned out there was little to see in the process, and she was tired of looking at Maksim’s puppydog face even as it smoothed itself of injury. She flicked her gaze over to Pavel instead. His expression was hard as stone, but it spoke volumes to a sweet sister. Sofia raised a brow, but the hint of a smirk on her lips was utterly smug. They should have killed the yak; showed Kao that if he forced their hand to a silly game, they’d ruin it with a bullet to the brain. They’d play, yes. But it wasn’t the fucking Syndicate going to be making the rules.

Pavel wasn’t happy. But he wouldn’t argue. Though neither did it seem he was about to unfold his arms, and perhaps he intended to ignore Iásōn altogether.

Max was unsurprisingly extravagant with his appreciation and awe. Doubtful that he should have touched the custody’s precious healer so, but the agent didn’t intervene, and Sofia finally rose from her chair now the bulk of their business was concluded. There would be no lesson learnt tonight, she’d wager, and Maksim would be back in the casino loudly blessing his good fortune by tomorrow. He might do well to remember it wasn’t fortune he should be thanking, or even Iásōn, but his sister-in-law. It was unlikely to be the last time he found himself up to the eyeballs in shit. And certainly not now the landscape of Moscow’s great powers was in flux. Next time helping him out might not sit so neatly with family business.

“He said thank you,” she translated for the American; redundant, given the embrace and kisses. She smiled, but there was impatience in her posture. Iásōn had not voiced agreement to fix Pavel’s hands, and it was unlikely to be the kind of thing his extraordinary gifts were supposed to be used on. A trifling thing, really. But she had asked him to do it.

Pavel stood like a statue, imposing and silent.

[Jensen James]

An excitement filled the room like light breaking the horizon of dawn. Jensen watched Maksim hurry off to examine himself further until he remembering that he was leaving the others waiting. He certainly understood the awe of the miracle, and he was content to let Maksim bask in its glory while he could. Whatever happened to him that left him in the hospital, Jensen didn’t know. He recognized injuries of assault, though. It wasn’t as if he was in a car accident or stubbed his toe and fell down the stairs. The man was a victim, and he deserved his moment to celebrate. After Jensen collected himself, he approached Sofia’s brother. 

He briefly looked up and down Pavel. The man was seemingly fine, though in Jensen’s experience, the worst afflictions were sometimes unseen to the naked eye. The Gift was still rolling through his body as he held out his hands, palms up.

“Allow me?” he asked, head tilted slightly with patience and curiosity. Some men refused taking Jensen’s hands, though the sick and dying usually did not hesitate to reach for comfort. Despite the trio of kisses that Maksim planted on his masked cheek, he found that the Russians were usually extremely hesitant to touch at all.

He glanced at Sofia to see if she might urge her brother to the gesture.

[Sofia Vasilieva]

Sofia watched on. That Iásōn submitted to her bidding won him an ally, and her gaze turned on Pavel in a stubborn lock of wills. She smiled at him from behind the healer’s shoulder. “It’d be rude to refuse, brother. And it’s very late. I’m sure Iásōn wishes to go home.” She approached to press her hand sweetly into the crook of his elbow, urging those folded arms to relax. Pavel frowned down at her. Despite the pleasant interaction, quite a different conversation was going on behind the masks. But eventually he turned his sombre gaze to meet the smaller man’s. Or what could could be assumed behind the head-covering anyway.

“My thanks,” he said stiffly. After a moment he slipped the gloves from his raw hands.

He didn’t reach for Iásōn’s open palms. But he did nod his consent.

[Jensen James]

He shook his head. "I'm accustomed to staying up all night," he replied softly. Behind his mask, he observed Sofia's diamond-hard expression. Something in it reminded him of Jessika when she exerted every ounce of her power to achieve her desires. It was that inner strength that he once loved about her – so distinct from his own, a marvel to behold.

At Sofia's request, her brother removed his gloves, revealing that same power at play. It felt like the discharge of a debt, and the same unyielding gaze as his sister emanated from Pavel's stone-like face. Nearby, Agent Devarona stood as a witness by the door, arms folded but likely never to forgive Jensen for what he was about to do, and maybe Jensen would regret his decision later, but for now, he believed he could also be strong.

He removed his mask, tucking it under his arm. In that instant, Agent Devarona hurriedly advanced, exclaiming, "Don't!" Yet, it was too late. Jensen's hair was tousled in the removal; he took a moment to smooth it down before casting a gentle look toward the observers. Whether they recognized him remained uncertain, but the game of anonymity was over. There was no turning back now.

Finally, he directed his focus to Pavel and took a step closer. "I need to touch you for it to work," he explained with as much reassurance as he could, reaching for Pavel's hand.

[Sofia Vasilieva]

She smirked for that little statement, and glanced up at her brother, but he did not meet the amusement in her gaze. In discomfort he did not look at her at all, though likely only Sofia recognised that emotion in him; outwardly he was still and silent and unyielding, the hands revealed the only concession he appeared willing to make in his belligerent consent of the healing.

Sofia prided herself on reading a room, but she did not predict what happened next. The face Iásōn revealed from under the white mask was not one she recognised, but neither was she likely to forget it. Her attention cut straight to the alarmed agent, cool and searching. If they had a problem here, it was a promise that she was about to be a bigger one, for all the casual way she held herself, hands back in her pockets, expression imperious and controlled. But though he called out, he did nothing she took to be a threat. Not now anyway. The Ascendancy went to great lengths to protect this man’s identity, and while on the one hand such knowledge was priceless, on the other it was also fucking dangerous.

Maksim better keep his mouth fucking shut.

She did not turn to look at her brother-in-law. The subtlety of a hard look would be utterly wasted on him. Instead her attention did not break from the exchange in front of her, and how it might be spun to their advantage. Why had Iásōn done it? She watched his soft profile, the earnestness of his explanation, and witnessed such sweetness it was no wonder he’d ended up with the Custody’s leash around his neck. She reached to place a gentle squeeze on his shoulder, in gratitude or commiseration or solidarity. Then she stepped back to allow space.

Pavel gave every impression of being utterly unmoved. Sofia had no idea why he was making it so hard on himself, and reluctance only made this whole sojourn more memorable. Possibly it was the idea of the power itself. They lived in a new world now, and their experiences of Sofia’s own gift were vastly different from this. Being groomed for the Vasiliev empire he would one day inherit did not leave much room for submission to forces he could neither control nor sense. His jaw clenched, and he said nothing, but neither did he flinch away – from holding Iásōn’s gaze or from the reach of his touch. At the last moment he held his hand up, palm facing upwards, for the other man to take.

[Maksim Marveet]

From the privacy of the bathroom, Max marveled at his face in the mirror. He touched his own flesh repeatedly, pushing and tugging upon the places that previously rendered so much pain. Next, he stripped of the hospital shirt, doing the same for his ribs, stomach, back... His eyes were saucers. His mind struggling to comprehend, yet when his gaze flashed to the reflection of the door, true understanding came faster than he could process.

The weight of the night settled on his shoulders, drawing them down, and his hands gripped the sink in reaction like he needed an anchor to keep him from something he might regret. Was this Pavel’s plan all along? Was his brother-in-law the mastermind of an elaborate scheme, and Maksim the idiot dragged through collateral hell? They couldn't have explained this ahead of time? Let him in on the plot? Why not? Because he was a Marveet or because he was a fool?

When he rediscovered his face in the mirror, it was hard. He needed answers, and they would share or Alina would hear the truth — the whole truth.

He threw open the door to discover a shocking scene beyond. The man in white had removed his mask, standing before Pavel himself offering the exact same relief as what Maksim, the real victim, was given.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” His jaw dropped. He rounded the room, stare a mix of accusation and shock.

“I went through all that,” he waved at the vacant bed, “Alina cried on my shoulder, and you get to walk out of here like—“ but the stupor of his accusation hung on words that wouldn’t quite solidify under the scrutiny of the Vasilevs’ combined reaction. His desperate demand for answers settled on his sister-in-law, but as he looked at her, he shook his head and stomped off to put on his real clothes and go the fuck home, knowing he would never get them.

[Jensen James]

It was with genuine patience that Jensen awaited Pavel’s consent, and when that moment came, the hint of warmth touched his face with relief. Truly he knew little of their family, no more than the names upon their introduction and what he could deduce in these past few minutes. Yet for all his powers of observation, their story unfurled like a scroll that he might read. He pondered the emotions concealed behind Pavel's impenetrable gaze—a shroud of darkness and the unwavering strength demanded by his familial role, whatever it might be.

Intimacy seemed foreign to the man before him, prompting Jensen to cautiously place his palm beneath Pavel's outstretched hand, his fingertips barely grazing the skin, mindful of the tenderness. It was a delicate gesture, just enough to meet the Gift's requirement. The potent Gift surged through him, akin to a river of indescribable forces. Like with Maksim, the healing process began anew, but Jensen maintained a steadfast gaze without averting his eyes from the level of the man’s before him. Even someone as guarded as Pavel couldn't help but react to the undeniable effect while Jensen concealed the emotions churning within his own behind a façade of gentle observation. "See? That wasn't so bad." He spoke when it was done.

In the midst of such a moment, Maksim reappeared, prompting Jensen to step aside reluctantly, as though peeling himself away from something he was sorry to leave behind. However, he recognized the need to respect the passing seconds.

Agent Devarona promptly approached his shoulder, urging him to don his mask and depart in his company. The intricate family dynamics had unfolded before Jensen's eyes, and he acknowledged his compliance with a subtle nod.

((Edited the hand. Realized it would hurt to touch his knuckles.))

[Sofia Vasilieva]

Sofia watched the predictable tantrum without expression, though inwardly she rolled her eyes. Maksim had no real bite to him, and any threat in his outburst was disregarded the way one might ignore a spoiled child. He was embarrassing himself and the family, but such things would be dealt with behind closed doors in whatever way proved necessary. Ultimately Maksim was Pavel’s problem to deal with, though if her brother-in-law actually managed to thank Sofia for her help tonight, perhaps she would intercede on his behalf. She did love her sister even if she doubted her choices sometimes.

Meanwhile Pavel had only made a noise of assent and proceeded to replace his gloves. He nodded to both healer and agent, but it was Sofia who stepped forward before Devarona scooped the CCD’s property back into his custody. She ignored the handler. Given tonight’s revelations, she doubted the man would long be in the job. Whatever authority he may have wielded when he entered the room, it was gone now entirely, even as he urged Iásōn to replace the mask.

“Thank you for your help, Iásōn.” She extended a hand in friendship, genuine in warmth even if the gesture was appropriately businesslike. “Perhaps we will be able to return the favour one day.”

Once both had gone, she offered her brother a slim smile, eyes bright with calculation. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

[Maksim Marveet]

After Maksim rearranged his appearance to the best of his ability, he remembered that his Wallet was broken, which meant the spare that Alina brought would have to serve. He was logging into his accounts as he left the hospital, but as soon as he realized the time, he opted to not call his wife first. He wanted to share the good news as soon as possible, but he hated the idea of waking her up. She was already up late and the stress of all this wasn’t good for her or their unborn child. So he opted to call someone else first.

“Ezvin?” He asked as soon as the call was answered. “Sorry to wake you, but I need to talk to someone.”

“Sure Max. Do you want to come over?” The man who answered sounded concerned.

Maksim had climbed into the back of the vehicle summoned to drive him home by that point. His brow furrowed thoughtfully as he glanced at the driver, pondering what answer he would give.