I was in the small park near home, in the late evening, minding my own business. The streetlights had been on for a while already, the whole place was deserted. I liked that place, that very bench, as a sort of hideout. A place to go and just turn the mind off and stare at the snowed trees and the icy ground and the cracked walkways.
I was so focused on my mind trip that I never saw Key coming. To me, she materialized out of thin air, sitting by my side, when she said an almost cold "Hey."
I didn't so much as look at her. "Hi."
"Just wanted to see how you're doing."
"Fine." Well, fine before you came poking your nose, that is. If things were cold before we came to Moscow, everything had gone to hell since then.
She grabbed my hand and harshly took my glove off. "Then what's this." Four or five lines crossed my hand – each one a wound in a different stage of healing. A few more were just recently healed, and still were a bright pink.
"You wouldn't understand." How could she. She, who had brought me there. A fighter, never wondering if any of it was wrong, just taking it. And then she'd talk about principles. Ironic.
"Well, I won't if you don't try, that's for sure. But I'm willing to give my best." In silence, she took a knife from her pocket and handed it to me.
Trying to mess with my mind. As always. "I don't have to follow your orders anymore."
"You never had to."
Sigh. "At least stop lying to yourself, Key." I grabbed my phone and quickly located some of the old files in the global archive. Of those times when she'd done to me the same thing Andrei did to her. "You two are the same." I handed her the phone.
"I never said I'm better than anyone." That speech again. "But I always tried to teach you to stand for yourself, to fight."
I finally looked at her in the eyes. "First, stop lying. I never had a choice. While now, I do. And second, it doesn't matter. An honorable end doesn't make it hurt any less."
"You think now you have a choice?"
"I know it for a fact," I replied coldly. Did I know? Did I care? Who knows.
She sighed and looked down, absentmindedly fidgeting with the knife in her hands. "Yeah. I thought that too. You know, when we came here. I bought into all that bullshit. I let him convince me. And look how it ended."
"You made your choices, you know. You two could have gone on vacation. Just a while. Or disappear. Andrei wouldn't have minded. In fact, he gave you the option. But you were too stubborn to accept it."
"Yeah, same as you can go on vacation now." She was as sarcastic as ever.
"I thought it was you who used to say we are our choices and not our past. Who said you were in all this 'cause you wanted to. 'Cause every day you decided not to quit. But of course, that was before coming here, wasn't it?"
"See. Thing is, I was like you, just a few months ago. So sure I had the correct answer."
"News flash, I'm not you. I like it here. For the same reason I liked working for you. So, stop it. You two are not that different."
"I always tried to teach you to fight. ... But I admit I have made many mistakes, Sandy." She pointed at the phone. Those old files. "And I'm sorry. I'm sorry it ended up like this."
"Why are you even here, Key."
She grabbed my hand again. "You never did this back then."
I got up, decided to leave. I didn't have to listen to her rants. But she didn't let go. "Sandy, please. I just want to talk, okay?"
"You want an answer? I did much worse. I did everything you asked. Everything for you. This–" I opened my hand for her to see, "–this I did for me. Now let me go."
"Please, Sandy. I just want to help." She was still holding onto my wrist. Like a cold shackle– doesn't hurt, but you can't seem to get free of it. "Sandy. You'd do anything for him, wouldn't you? ... And then there's this." This being my hand. "So, don't blame it all on me."
I finally sat back. If she wanted answers she'd have them. "But it's all your fault. You taught me to like the job, and you brought me here. I tried quitting one too many times, and you know it."
Again she opened my hand. "So, how is this my fault. Sandy." She handed me the knife again. "I just want to understand."
I took a breath. "Yet you said you wanted me to fight. So you know what? I'll fight. I'm not doing that."
She seemed to realize the consequences of her words, of the whole 'I want you to be free' speech. Yet she managed to put on a soft smile. "Of course. Silly me. Okay. I'll do it myself."
I couldn't tear my eyes away as she took the knife to her wrist and sliced it open. Deep. It started bleeding quite badly. I grabbed her arm, at least putting some pressure on the cut to slow down the blood.
She was now grinning. "So, you do care. Why? I mean, you know well it's nothing. You know I'm not an idiot who doesn't know what's doing."
"You know you've gone too deep, dammit," I muttered behind my teeth. "It's bleeding badly. We have to stop it, or at least slow it down. Then you can show me how it's nothing, if you want."
"Sandy, stop it. It really is nothing, and you know it. Let go and check for yourself."
I let go of her arm. No, it wasn't nothing. She had nicked a couple arteries, no wonder it bled that much. But, well, now it seemed stable, new blood lazily trickling out.
"Well. I'm no closer to understanding you. It hurts. And that's about it."
Shit, she was good at making you rethink everything. But I knew her all too well. I knew she didn't believe half of what she said. "I told you you wouldn't understand."
She showed her bloody wrist. "Well, I'm trying, but you're not helping."
I just sighed. I would have gotten up and left, but I knew she wouldn't let me.
She kept insisting. "You think I've never been there, don't you? You think I don't know what it is. Where you are."
"I've told you you're not better than him. So stop it."
"And I've told you you're right, and there's a difference, but that's not even what I mean. I don't mean the now. I'm not even talking about him."
Bunch of bullshit. I looked at her.
"I know well what is it to have nothing. It–"
I interrupted her. "I do have something, thanks."
"You know what I mean. You know why I don't care about this." She pointed at her wrist. "It's only a bit of pain. After everything I've gone through, this is nothing. I had to learn to fight, Sandy."
I couldn't help smiling. "And look where it got you." She was broken, doing a desk job she hated. All for surviving. You'd think a fighter– no, you'd think a lunatic like her, would have chosen some other path. Especially after spending half her life saying there's always a choice.
She sighed. "You're not listening. And I'm still not any closer to understanding why you've done that." She pointed at my hand. "You know why I think is that? Even you don't understand. That's why you can't explain it."
Again I looked at her. This all was ridiculous. "You know who actually cares? ... Who tries to comfort me instead of whatever the hell is it you're doing?" Andrei. "Exactly."
"And you know well why–"
"Yes. 'Cause he cares. That's why. Get over it. He's better than you, Key. With me at least."
"I care for you, Sandy. That's why I'm trying to understand."
"No. you're trying to make me stop. You're not helping. And you don't give a shit about not helping."
"Sandy, I just want to help you. I just..."
"Well, congrats. Do you want a prize for that? Too late." I sighed. Damn, she was hard to reason with. Stubborn as a rock, I'm telling you. "I guess you do care. In your own sick and twisted way. So, stop it." I got on my feet again, but again she grabbed my wrist.
"Sandy. Please. Don't be like this. You know I actually care about you."
"Yeah. Enough to not be able to keep me around for more than a few weeks during the past, what, five years? Stop lying to yourself, at least." It always broke my heart when she pulled me back in, only to get too absorbed in work and forget about me in less than a month.
"You think he'll always be there?"
"I don't even care, Key."
"Sandy. You know well this won't last. He'll sooner or later find another toy. That's–"
"Same as you did, huh? Well then. That would be one more thing you two have in common."
She sighed. "You know I never did it on purpose. You know–"
"I know you didn't care enough to keep me around. I know you didn't care enough to realize that, and kept pulling me back, trying to make it work. When it was obvious it wouldn't. And I know I was enough of a fool to believe you every single time. Now, let me go. Whatever it was we once had, it's over, and you don't get to grab my hand to make me stay anymore."
I knew she wouldn't let me, so I pulled. And finally got free of her freezing grip. "Don't bother anymore, Key. It's over. I'll always care about you. But I don't have to listen to your nonsense anymore."
"I'm not–"
"The only one doing it, yeah. Cut that crap. You brought me here, don't act surprised that I've found someone who gives me what you can't." I finally turned around and left.
I walked at a steady pace, headed to nowhere. Back then, we were still living all together –Key, the guys, and me, that is. Going home meant she'd knock on the door for endless hours. I aimed for the city center. I had a credit card with me, I could rent a room in a cheap hotel.
As I was wandering, my mind kept going back to one thought. He'd leave me too, sooner or later. I had lied when I said I didn't care. I could accept it, of course. Key had done it enough times for me to easily get over it. But that's not even remotely the same as not caring. My heart and my head both hurt. I cared too damn much.
I was going around that idea over and over. Thinking how would it end. How would it feel. What would I do. Too focused to notice the world around me. I had been waiting forever for a red light to go green, when a car, a big SUV, stopped right before me. The window rolled down. "Get in, Sandy." Andrei.
I didn't want to. Not after what I had been thinking the last half an hour. I just wanted to run away and be done with it. If it was going to end, then the sooner, the better.
He got off the car and circled around it to hug me from the back. "Come with me, Sandy."
I let him get me into the car, my mind lost in the silent noise of the city night. He got in after me and drove, apparently to nowhere. Or at least I didn't know where we were going. Soon, he stopped the car in a poorly lit alley. I looked at him. There was no one in sight. The place made me feel uneasy. Something in me screamed to run the hell away from there. Yet I didn't.
"We're there. Come with me." He opened the door for me.
It took me a lot of self-control to not fall to my knees and just cry, and also to not run away like I'd seen the devil. I followed him to a side door, only a couple steps over the road. He unlocked it with his card. That meant nothing. A safe house is only as safe as the people you are locked in with. So, not safe at all this time, I told myself.
I followed him inside, still uneasy as hell. The door locked itself. Great. Would an L5 card open it? Officially yes. I doubted it actually would.
He turned around and saw me, trying hard not to fall to my knees and turn into a ball, my fists clenched tight to hide their shaking. And he hugged me. Softly, caring. "Calm down, Sandy. I just figured you didn't want to go back with the guys tonight. Yeah, I've heard the whole thing. I'm here for you." He dragged me to a couch and sat me, again gently. "Look, boy. I don't care what she thinks she knows. I won't leave you. Okay?"
I looked at him. That was not what I was expecting. At all.
"I couldn't, Sandy. ... I couldn't possibly do that. And now you'll think that she used to say the same, but... I'm not her. I swear I won't leave you." He hugged me again, this time harder. And I knew he was telling the truth.
"Thanks," I muttered to myself, as I too hugged him.
The warm embrace didn't last nearly long enough, though. He soon grabbed my arms, putting some distance. So he could look into my eyes. "That said, you're still free to go. I won't ever hold you back where you don't want to be."
I hugged him again. "I won't leave."
