but we try too hard, it's a waste of our time

[takoda quinton begay]

ever since lexin had been young, him and his brother had been extremely close. when he had found out that his brother was one of the people assigned to take him out, he couldn't help but cringe. he couldn't imagine what it was like to have to plot against your own brother. what it was like to never see your brother at home. what it was like to have to prepare to kill him. lexin just couldn't place himself in his brother's spot, because he wouldn't be in this spot. no, lexin would have ran away before he would have had to kill his brother. his younger brother, the one that he had always taken care of when they were growing up. then lexin went and, to put it nicely, fucked it up for his own brother.

so it was time to pay his brother back. he was going to help his brother in a way that he never thought he'd have to do. it was the middle of the night and from what lexin had heard, nikolai was off somewhere else. so he broke into nikolai's place and sat down in the only chair in the living room, waiting for his brother. he had dressed in a dark hoody with dark pants, but hadn't bothered putting anything other articles of clothing on. he did on the other hand carry two guns though, for his own protection of course. he would never intentionally kill his brother.

as soon as lexin heard the front door open to the apartment, he tensed and watched the area in which the person would emerge. as soon as he saw it was his brother, he stood up and walked along the wall, just out of sight, and then stood behind his brother. "hello nikolai." he said in his deep voice, and then attacked before his brother had time to attack him first. he quickly swung his leg around in attempt to knock nikolai on his back.

tag; nikolai/sev
listening to; fuckin perfect by pink
notes; and here.. we.. go.

[nikolai ivanovich harkov]

Nikolai was on edge these days. He knew his assignment was drawing nearer and the group was working out some of its kinks. It wouldn't be long before things came together and he would... have to... Niko clenched his jaw. That was the problem, wasn't it? He couldn't do it. There was no way he would be able to level a gun at his brother and pull the trigger. He couldn't do it from atop a building, setting his sights on him with a sniper rifle. Ever time he called up the image and tried to play it out, step by step, like he did with his other hits, he froze up at the first memory of Yakov's face. He managed to keep this from the others by simply not talking about it. Tommy had tried to ask about it in his haphazard way, but there was no way Niko could talk about it. He knew he'd catch hell for backing out, but maybe that was what he needed to do. So far his reasoning had been to stay part of the planning and keep his head low until he could make a firm decision. Then he could either flee, somehow try to get a message to his brother, or sabotage the plan. In every case he faced severe consequences.

This was something Nikolai had never expected to deal with. His father and the rest of he bosses within the Brotherhood were ruthless businessmen, but this was crossing the line. They had been shaken by Yakov's desertion, and were no doubt out to test Niko's loyalty as a result. He was angry at everyone in this situation, from his father to his brother to the Yakuza girl who had drawn his attention to begin with. As with most of Niko's emotions, they were tempered with understanding and sympathy. However, this robbed him of the ability to truly feel sorry for himself. He could see everyone's perspective. These thoughts clouded the man's mind from the moment he woke up to when he finally fell asleep. They haunted his dreams as well, in some form or another. His erratic schedule had offered some explanation for the dark circles beneath his eyes, but the truth was he was over-stressed, over-tired, and there was no relief in sight. With an uncharacteristically heavy tread, he climbed the stairs up to the front door of his rented townhouse.

He paused on the top step, eying his front door suspiciously. He turned the handle slowly, stepping into the dark hallway. He could feel the hairs on the back of his neck standing up, and looked around carefully. It was dark inside and out, so his eyes did not need any time to adjust. His deep exhaustion was forgotten for the moment; he knew he wasn't alone. Nikolai hadn't been neglected because he was only the second son. He knew the tricks of the trade, so to speak, and he was no stranger to coming home to find an enemy in your house. Slowly and deliberately he walked down the hall, entering the living room and finding it empty. For an instant he considered the idea that maybe he was in worse shape than he had thought and had started imagining things. Then he sensed a presence right behind him. Nikolai was ready to wheel around and whip out his handgun when the person spoke. He froze when he heard his name, too surprised by the voice to move. This trance was broken by a sudden force exerted below his center of gravity, causing him to fall. Nikolai's instincts and training took over then, and even as he was falling he reached into his jacket and pulled out a semi-automatic pistol. He rolled when he hit the ground, ending up crouching on one knee with his other foot flat on the floor.

He aimed his gun at his attacker, eyes cold and hands steady. You couldn't just break in to the house of a Russian mafia member, try to throw him on his back, and expect him to wave a white flag of surrender. Unless of course you were also a former Russian mafia member, and the older brother of your would-be victim. Nikolai wasn't about to freeze with shock a second time, but when he recognized the face of his older brother his expression changed completely. His eyebrows knotted together, and he swallowed slowly, the tensed muscles in his arms giving an involuntary shudder. He could never best his older brother in a physical fight; they had been sparring since they were little kids. They had the same training, but his brother had the advantage of age and size. Nikolai dropped his gun with a resigned sigh and raised his hands slightly, palms facing forward. He wasn't going to shoot him either, so the thing was an empty threat. He had another handgun in an ankle holster anyway, should he come up against someone he could actually shoot. His eyes were trained on the other man's face, trying to gauge his next move.

He wasn't surprised that Yakov had figured out where Nikolai lived. It made sense to come to his house and try to eliminate one of the threats against him and his son. What didn't make sense was giving him a chance to fight back as opposed to simply killing him. But then these things were complicated, as Niko well knew. So it was unlikely his brother was here to kill him. Automatically slipping into Russian, he said, ”Hello Yakov. You're looking well.” It came out far colder than Nikolai actually felt. It was colored with his repressed anger at his brother for abandoning him, and the unreasonable blame for putting him into this situation. Blame that he had been dying to find an outlet for. Oh, and also the fact that he had been ambushed and attacked in his own house in the middle of the night. That was kind of hard to ignore. ”I'm guessing you aren't here to kill me?” He hadn't moved from his tense half-crouch, nor had he lowered his hands. Assumptions aside, he really didn't feel like being shot at today.

[takoda quinton begay]

lexin immediately reached behind him to grab his gun that he had hidden, and pulled it out so that he had it pointing at his brother. he knew that his brother would do the same thing. the difference was he knew he wouldn't ever actually use it. he wasn't sure if nikolai would use his against him. he didn't want to take the chance of getting shot after all of this. he hadn't come to paris, fought for his son, and finally reconnect with kazuko just to be killed in the middle of a living room. lexin cocked his gun and stared right back at his brother. as lexin watched his little brother, he instantly noticed the tired lines right under nikolai's eyes. lexin knew that he had effected his brother even if he hadn't meant to. lexin hid the sorrow that he felt inside, knowing that if he showed it, that his brother would gain the upper hand.

"i wish i could say the same thing about you, nikolai." lexin stated, studying his brother. lexin flashed back to russia when he looked into his brother's eyes, remember all of the times that him and his brother had. his favorite one was when him and his brother had gone on a camping trip together. it hadn't been anyone else. no, it had been him and nikolai against the world. what has happened to us? lexin thought to himself, and he felt the sadness flash across his face for a split second. he quickly shifted to the right, trying to cover up his facial expressions. he let out a laugh, just as cold as his younger brother's words, at what he said. of course he wasn't going to kill him. that was opposite of what lexin had planned on doing.

when hannibal and lexin had discussed what to do about the mafia trying to attack him, hannibal had suggested taking them out one by one. lexin had listened, agreeed partially, and said that he would kidnap his brother, and then hurt one of the higher ranks. he didn't want to make it too obvious that they knew everyone that was attacking him. that was not going to happen, because as soon as they found out, lexin was a goner, and most likely hannibal too. hannibal had said that he should either take them all out one by one all together, or not at all, but lexin wasn't going to let his brother go through this. that was final.

"and why would i be here to kill you, nikki? oh wait, because you were here to kill me?" lexin flinched slightly when he spoke the words, but he kept his composure. his russian was a little rough when he spoke it now, because he'd gotten so used to speaking french and english. lexin shifted just slightly to his left this time to even out his balance and sighed just slightly, slowly lowering his weapon. as he was doing that, lexin took his right foot and kicked a stack of newspapers at nikolai. in that split second, lexin looked down to see that nikolai had dropped his gun. lexin froze and watched the newspapers fall, but didn't miss a beat. he grabbed the roped he had brought with him and moved toward nikolai to tie his hands together. "lay on your stomach," lexin instructed nikolai, and then waited, aiming the gun at his brother again to make sure that his brother didn't pick up the weapon laying by him.

tag; nikolai/sev
listening to; sunshine by johnny cash
notes; i'm sorry it's short. it'll be better next time

[nikolai ivanovich harkov]

Nikolai was not fooled by Lexin's efforts. He was staring down the barrel of a gun, but unless his time in exile had drastically changed his brother, Niko was not facing certain death. He also watched his brother's face, and he caught the pain there. That flicker of humanity effectively shattered Nikolai's anger. They were all just human, forced into this ugly situation by the powers that be. The blame was not solely with Lexin for the strain and stress the younger man was going through. There were layers of trust, loyalty, laws and codes that had been broken. Pride and anger were the dominant forces that had sent him to Paris on this assignment. With the impulsive reaction of anger out of his system, Nikolai's more rational side could piece through his current situation. There was still a flood of emotion vying for the top spot, chief amongst them was apprehension. He was relieved to see his brother doing so well; part of him was always worried that one of the others would get trigger-happy before he figured out what to do. He felt sympathetic, too. Sadness, residual anger at various parties, even a trace of humor at how insanely fucked up things had gotten. Things had been simple between them in the past. Yakov had his back, and Niko had has his. He threw up his facade in front of the older members of the mafia, but he could trust Yakov with the truth of things. Now, however, he was ruled by apprehension. He probably wasn't going to die. Definitely wasn't, as long as he didn't do anything stupid. There were ways to neutralize an opponent without killing them, though. Since when had Yakov become his opponent?

Nikolai's eyes fell to the floor at Lexin's words. They stung, probably much deeper than the man had expected when he said them. ”You broke our law, Yakov. I was sent here to kill Lexin Tower. You knew the position it would leave me in when you left! Do you think I volunteered for this job?!” He didn't look up until he'd finished speaking. When he did, however, his face registered a lot more emotion than it would have with anybody else. Even when he was holding a gun to his head, Nikolai trusted Yakov more than he did any other man. I need professional help, he thought to himself wryly. He had spoken with quiet indignation, raising his voice toward the end mainly out of exasperation. He knew that Yakov was no to blame, not entirely anyway, for this situation. All he wanted was the same courtesy on his part. It was like an extension of “Don't shoot the messenger” except the message Niko had carried involved bullets, and the threat of being shot was actually quite real. “Don't blame the hit-man,” maybe. It had a nice ring to it. If he ended up on his intended career path, he'd have to use that now and then. And now he came to the thing that he desperately wanted to say, but every fiber of his being fought it. Nikolai was a perfectionist, he served his family and was loyal to his very last breath. To admit this... it went against everything he lived by. ”I could not kill you, Yakov. I was trying to...” He could not bring himself to say the last part. Trying to find a way out and keep the others from killing you.

Nikolai was a strong man, but his voice and expression bordered on anguish for the first time in his life. He had said all that he could, in any case. It was up to Lexin whether or not to believe him. He flinched back from the sudden onslaught of newspapers, although his flinch turned into a full on jumped up and backwards. He was standing fully in his living room then, staring at his older brother with surprise. ”What happened to us? he murmured, shaking his head slowly. He listened to the firm command with a set jaw and complied, knowing that with the mafia's “show, don't tell” general attitude, it was best to just go with it most of the time.