[color=silver][indent][indent][right][sub][b]TIMESTAMP[/b] — Flashback (December of 2019) || After [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/5415659]Back to the Beginning[/url]
[b]Trigger Warnings[/b] — Mentions of suicide, memories of child abuse, violence
[b]FT.[/b] — [color=635687]Mikhial Zima[/color] & [color=9932cc]Ivan Vladinov Zima[/color][/sub][/right]
[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/sWiiSbF.png[/img]
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[img]https://i.imgur.com/ARnglQc.png[/img]

[img]https://i.imgur.com/KAuXESq.png[/img]
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Hell never looked so normal.

When Mika originally agreed to have lunch with his father, he had a million scenarios run through his head to the point where he created his own that weren’t even close to what was realistically possible. Scenarios of a what-if scenario, if you will. A life when he was never sent away - when he and his sisters were never sent to live in Edenridge. A life when his brother wasn’t an asshole nor where his parents ever split up. 

That life was something that Mika thought about a lot, but especially as of late. Being back in the old house brought a lot of those old memories and this wasn’t the property in Brighton Beach. The buildings that were built like a fortress and looked like an upper east side condo. No, the house he was at was [i]the[/i] house where everything bad in the first thirteen years of his life happened.

As he sat as tense and restless on the same couch that he had those rare fond memories with his mother and Uncle Sergei, just being a kid as much as he could, Mika also couldn’t help but be reminded of the other memories associated with this couch. And this house. It felt so empty with nobody in it. His mom’s light, the twins’ energy - there was something very ominous about the mansion he once called home. 

It was strange. Being back here after almost four years, Mika thought by stepping back into it he would feel the same dread and forlornness that he was overtaken by that day he and his sisters were put on a car ride by Sergei and were driven to their destinations. From the time Sergei let him in, leaving himself so the two of them could talk  and left Mika alone with Ivan who hadn’t made himself known yet. Mika spent several minutes in the eerie quiet. As he did, one thing became clear and it was that he did not feel as he once did. He was still so full of ire for his father but it wasn’t the raging storm he had been hoarding and letting fester inside him. It was subdued, under control, and mild.

Did it have anything to do with the pictures still remaining in view? The giant portrait of the family when they were all still happy that was staring back at him as he leaned back into the cushion? Maybe it was his recent losses that took some of the anger away and replaced it with a numb emptiness. Danny was his light for the few years that Mika knew him and Coach O’Hara made Mika feel like he was accepted into a family he was part of even though he wasn’t really. And then there was Cece, the only person after Veronika that Mika felt something true for, yet he couldn’t bring himself to let her know this part of his life. Not about who his family was. Not about where he came from. Not even about the first love of his life. 

V was his childhood love (or puppy love to some people). If she were still alive to this day, there was no doubt in his mind that he would have married her. The life they spent so many years in their  formative years. But she wasn’t.

And now he has lost two people that he loved dearly - two people that were so similar in the way they spoke and made their ways into Mika’s heart. He lost them through means that were out of his control. One to suicide and the other to Charlie Decker, someone Mika seldom had anything to do with. 

That’s probably why his anger, especially considering where he was, had been consumed by an overwhelming grief that he had to keep bottled up.

 [color=9932cc]“Deepest apologies for that, Mikhail. I hope you weren’t too bored waiting on me.”[/color] Ivan made himself present. He held his phone in his hand and pocketed it in his back pocket. Mika looked his way and saw a casually dressed man. He wore a turtleneck that was dark in color, jeans that looked expensive, and his blonde hair combed to perfection (as was the way of Ivan’s style). Always liked to appear like he was the most approachable man in the world.  [color=9932cc]“As you know, work waits for nobody.”[/color]

Yeah, Mika remembered.

He watched as his father claimed the recliner chair across from him. His father always liked to sit where he could see everyone else. Where he sat, he was directly behind the family portrait. The sounds of the fire dancing, sparks flying in the immediate area of the fireplace provided an ambiance that only Ivan managed to rob any beauty of. He always had that way about him and Mika hated him for it. But he had to shrug that off as much as he could.

[color=635687]“It’s fine,”[/color] Mika fibbed, but feigned a smile, absentmindedly gesturing towards the photos. [color=635687]”You left all the photos up. Even the ones from long ago.”[/color] Mika gestured to the left where the fireplace was. On top of it were Christmas decorations but also the photos of them. 

Ivan smiled, following his son’s gaze.  [color=9932cc]“Of course. Why would I take them down?”[/color] He remarked, mildly offended.  [color=9932cc]“My family may not live here anymore…for reasons I’m sure you’re aware of. I cherish my family all the same.”[/color]

[color=635687][i]Bullshit. You only cherish us now because your actions drove us away.[/i][/color] That was something Mika wanted to say, but he wasn’t trying to make this into a fight. If that happened, he knew, at some point, Ivan would cause it. He always knew how to ruin something civil. [color=635687]“Speaking of…What’s Viktor doing these days?”[/color] Mika felt the venom on his tongue as soon as he uttered his big brother’s name. Just the thought of Ivan’s [i]perfect[/i] son, the son he wished Mika was, was poisoning all of the progress he knew he made in the three years, but he needed to give this a shot. And as damning as it was to his own well-being, with what happened with Hyde, Mika couldn’t help himself but be curious.

And as soon as he did ask, Mika knew that it was something of a sore topic for Ivan. His rather pleasant demeanor fell down some. Mika saw his father’s eyes grow dark like before he was about to say something that would for sure start a fight. As Ivan closed them, gripping both armrests of his chair for a brief moment, Ivan took in a deep breath.  [color=9932cc]“Your brother…he is overseas. I’m not sure if you’re aware, but seeing as how you’re a man now and clearly capable of understanding the ugly truths that put a roof over your head, here it is: Viktor runs operations for the organization in London. He’s quite efficient. The clear successor when I retire.”[/color]

Mika didn’t know what to expect. He was never privileged enough to know the inner-workings of the business and to this day he never willingly asked about it, but hearing Ivan speak so openly about it was a shock. Where was the monster who terrorized him? Who beat him? Who made him feel like he was less than nothing? This wasn’t the Ivan Vladinov Zima that Mika called father. This was a man, if he didn’t know it any better, was treating Mika as an equal. 

[color=635687]“I see. And…has he asked about how any of us are doing? Katie? Stacy? Mom?” [i]Me?[/i][/color] Mika hated he wanted to know if his brother even cared, but he couldn't take it back now.

Ivan hummed thoughtfully, thinking about his next words, seemingly in a careful manner.  [color=9932cc]“Mikhail, do you think of your brother as some kind of monster?”[/color] Ivan asked bluntly.  [color=9932cc]“I acknowledge that he was not the best to you growing up. Perhaps I am to blame for that. Perhaps you are--”[/color]

And there he is. [color=635687]“I never said--”[/color] Ivan raised his hand up and Mika flinched. Fuck, the trauma was coming back. 

 [color=9932cc]“Let me finish, son. Viktor never thought of you as less than himself. I admit, I made many mistakes when raising you. Your mother often reminded me of them and I was either too prideful or too stuck in my ways to listen. When she left me, that is when she heard about the shooting in Edenridge, not only did she fear that her dear older brother John was in trouble, but she feared the worst for you and your sister. And your brother had a similar dilemma with himself. Viktor wanted to drop everything too, but--”[/color]

[color=635687]“But what?”[/color] Before Mika could stop himself, he cut Ivan off. Again.

 [color=9932cc]“Your mother insisted he stay in London. She would call him if anything happened and only then would he fly out.”[/color] Ivan leaned forward, his crossed leg dropping to the ground.  [color=9932cc]“Your brother loves you, Mikhail. Like me, he is full of regrets about both how he treated you and how things were left between you two. I…know that you met another brother of yours. Cameron Hyde, is it?” [/color]

Of course he knew about that. Mika was, after all, sent to live with The Gonzalez. Ley was the one that Hyde nearly killed. So it stood to reason that Ivan knew about the existence of Hyde. He probably was aware of Anya, too.  [color=635687]“I don’t want to talk about him.”[/color] Mika started to tremble inside. As much as he tried to hide it, there was no denying that it was a touchy subject for him. The terror that Hyde struck into Mika and the ragehe felt towards him was only rivaled by that very dread.

And Ivan saw it right away, but he didn’t press.  [color=9932cc]“Of course.”[/color]  

Truth was, Ivan knew a lot of things about Edenridge, more than Mikhial would ever know. He knew all the big players from the Fallen Angels to the line of connections the Serpents had. Ivan was well invested in Edenridge, but he also knew the kind of man that his second oldest son grew up to be. He did what he could and asked a favor of a close friend of his to keep an eye on Cameron Hyde. He didn’t know if it would be enough and understood the position that he put Charlie Taylor in, but that was something he had to risk. Perhaps on some level, Ivan felt remorse for some of the choices he made in life. April McMahon and Taisiya Kamensky were among two regrets he held deep in his heart.

As he thought about those two, he knew that April was around somewhere, but all of the sources he had that kept tabs on his family in Edenridge and Pinehurst, of them all within various gangs, organizations, and others that would be in the position to keep tabs, none could account for Taisiya even years after he spent an amazing few hours with her. It troubled Ivan to the degree that it led to part of the reason his wife could not handle staying with him any longer. To be honest, Ivan had not been the same since his children were sent away and that so clearly ate away at his soul. 

But looking at Mikhail right now, as he sat across from him, so clearly disturbed by the sheer mention of his half-brother, Ivan could feel himself half-smiling. It was small and barely noticeable, especially for his son who had other things on his mind (and it showed on his face), the one thing Ivan knew he had a chance to do was, at the very least, try to make amends.  [color=9932cc]“Mikhial.”[/color]

He came out of the daze that forced him to flashback to the less-than-cheery times in 2017 when Hyde had gone down a rabbit hole of crazy that left a lasting impression on him, his father’s voice had brought him out and he gave Ivan his semi-divided attention. [color=635687]“Yeah?”[/color] He responded with too much suspicion that there was no way Ivan wouldn’t pick up on it.

He chuckled but ignored the overwhelming air of reservation surrounding his son’s face.  [color=9932cc]“If I promise to not bring [i]him[/i] up again, would you do your father one favor and answer me a question. Truthfully and as honestly as you can.”[/color]

Okay, what was he up to? There was no way his monster of a father would even ask such a thing if it wasn’t going to come with a price. A favor of sorts that he’ll collect in a few years. Of course, that was the first thing that went through his mind, but on the off chance that Ivan had a no-strings-attached reasoning, then what harm could it do? As he shrugged, Mika said, [color=635687]“Fine. What’s your question?”[/color] He shifted in his seat. His hear was beating too fast for his own comfort. He was leaning forward but only slightly.

 [color=9932cc]“I’m aware I was never the best father. I know you wished you had someone like Reynoldo Gonzalez, or even John O’Hara--”[/color]

[color=635687]“--How did you know about--”[/color]

Ivan laughed.  [color=9932cc]“Mikhail. Don’t play me like an idiot. I am not one and you know that better than anyone. I don’t blame you for wanting to know your mother’s side of the family. And I do weep for David O’Hara’s death. I know how it pained your mother that she could not be at her brother’s side during that…unfortunate time in his life.”[/color]

[color=635687][i]Couldn’t? Or did you forbid her?[/i][/color] Mika remembered that time. [color=635687]“Ivan, I won’t treat you like an idiot if you do the same for me.”[/color] Mika felt it. He felt that familiar rage starting to build for his father. It was held behind a wall that was created when Ivan did not bring up the bad times or showed shades of his old self, but a snake could only hide its true skin for so long before it had to shed its garden variety into a Black Mamba coat and Ivan Zima was far worse than a Black Mamba. [color=635687]“Just..ask your question!”[/color] He almost snapped but kept his voice as low as he could, but at the state he was in currently,  it was becoming difficult to manage.

[color=9932cc]“When Sergei told you I wanted to have this meeting, you had a day to think about it. You could have left and gone back to Edenridge last night.”[/color] Ivan kept his cold blue eyes on his son, the thing they both shared.  [color=9932cc]“I am no fool and I am also not oblivious to the…conflicting emotions you hold for me nor do I or will I blame you for them. I was cruel to you. VIktor was cruel to you. I raised him to be modeled after me. To be better than me. Sometimes Viktor showed too much initiative. And during a time where I was hoping you’d both would see what I was really trying to--”[/color]

As the pot of rage started to boil, it slipped through the cracks of Mika’s face and he stood up. He wanted to scream. He wanted to walk right up to Ivan and punch him. He almost did and in his eyes, past the watery eyes that had developed by just listening to what Ivan decided to bring up, which was a lot more than just Ivan. The past few months have been weighing heavily on Mika’s heart almost to the point where anything would set him over the edge. 

His fists were balled up and he almost raised thim at ivan, but he stopped himself. [color=635687]“Ask. Your. [i]Question.[/i]”[/color] Mika gritted his teeth after calmly, yet eerily, speaking. This was the moment where Ivan had to choose between wanting to show Mika he really changed or validating what Honey Badger really wanted to do and that was to unload years of repressed ire on his father’s face.

Ivan sat and could only see his son with a sad, disappointed expression on his face. To think he was at his final point of doing something he’d regret or being better than Ivan ever gave him credit for.  [color=9932cc]“Why did you decide to come here? You had such a terrible time in this house and in our apartment in Brooklyn. I was abusive to you. Viktor was abusive to you. I cheated on your mother more times than I can count on my hands. Am I proud of it? No, but I don’t regret it--”[/color]

Mika took a step forward. [color=635687]“You don’t regret it?! So my mother meant nothing to you then!? Anastasia and Katya meant nothing to you!?”[/color] Another step forward led into another and then another. Eventually, as Mika was standing…[i]hovering[/i] over an unphased Ivan, his right hand gripped the man’s dark purple dress shirt while his other remained a balled cannon, waiting to be launched. “Our…family meant nothing to you!?” His voice cracked, rage, confusion, and a longing for a father that he wouldn’t know until Big Rey Gonzalez and Coach of the Edenridge Celtics, John O’Hara showed what a [i]real[/i] father did. Ivan Zima was no man and no father.

Ivan Zima was scum.

And he was smiling at his son.  [color=9932cc]“I see you gained the ability to finally show how you feel. That’s good. Finally,  a real man stands in front of me--”[/color]

Before Mika could think about it. Before Ivan knew what was coming, all of the rage Mika had been repressing since he was thirteen was unleashed into Ivan’s smug face. One single left hook that would make Creed proud smashed into Ivan’s face, forcing the older man out of his seat. His body twitched and he was on his side, laughing in a way that brought Mika back to those early years. 

Every positive thing in his life, every step he made to go forward in his life, forget about what Ivan Zima did to him. With just a laugh, it brought Mika back to the beginning. Back to the start of his downfall. First it was Veronika’s suicide that set so many things into a manic cycle of uncontrollable dominos that shaped his life from the age of thirteen to this moment with his father’s blood on his hands. The man that gave birth to the Devil himself and never apologized or took responsibility for the things [i]he[/i] put into motion. 

It was all for nothing. Meeting Natalia at that party and forming a close friendship with her. Meeting Cece a year later at David’s grave. Basketball and Danny. Boa and Danny Boaz. The Gonzalez family -- [i]his[/i] family. Everyone he met that helped him see there was more to life than just where he came from and the life that he would live if he stayed in it. Every single person who made him feel like a normal life was possible - it all was reduced to a single sound that erased all of that progress.

[color=635687]“Why…Why do you always do this?”[/color] Mika spoke, breaking through the pain he felt, the overwhelming anguish and conflicting emotions he had for the man who was at his mercy. A battle was being waged inside Mika. The fight of Mikhail Zima, the son of Ivan Zima and Mikhail Zima, the abused, tortured son of Ivan Zima that loathed the man with everything he could spare. [color=635687]“Tell me [b][i]WHY![/i]![/b]”[/color] Mika screamed as his left foot dug itself into his stomach, everything in him red hot like the fire inside him that was spreading. The man who he refused to ever call father coughed up blood. [color=635687]“You had everything! You didn’t have to be like this! You didn’t have to…” [i]Send us away.[/i] [/color]

That was the root of everything. He hated his childhood. He hated VIktor. He hated his father for what he did, but deep down, what he hated the most about everything that happened, was the fact that Ivan sent him and his sisters away. He broke up the family.

As Ivan gathered himself, not laying a hand on his son, but just sitting up. He grunted and coughed more droplets of blood, the taste of metal and iron in his mouth. He smiled a crimson grin.  [color=9932cc]“You continue to surprise me, Mikhail. I knew you held hatred in your heart and knew it would eventually happen, but to think you’d strike your own father. Well, I’m impressed.”[/color] He knew it was only a matter of time before his son struck again.  [color=9932cc]“You ask why? Why what? Why did I sleep with those rather flexible blondes that gave birth to two kids that I’ve never met? Or are you talking about sending the children I actually gave any damn about, away from the only home they knew to save their lives because of the actions of a truly foolish boy?”[/color] He laughed again, his expression turning almost smug as he kept those blue eyes on the true spawn of his seed. “ [color=9932cc]Be more specific, Mikhail. What do you wish for me to confess to you? You who are responsible for your own life, maybe you could help an old man out.”[/color]

[color=635687]“I hate you…”[/color]

Ivan faked an “ah” moment as he clapped despite the pain he was in everywhere ribcage and upward.  [color=9932cc]“That’s such an original and riveting confession, Mikhail. Tell me, is that what this is about? Sergei could have told me that much!”[/color] Through grits and pain, Ivan forced himself up to his feet.  [color=9932cc]“Let’s unpack everything, shall we? Say what you really mean.”[/color] His one arm that was free gestured to his son to indulge him.  [color=9932cc]“I know you hate me. I’ve known since before you knew. It was the way you always looked at me. That same look that always managed to do everything I said, despite all I put him through. So that can’t be the only thing that plagues your mind. What else is there, Mikhail? You asked me to be honest with you and I was. So let your father ask the same of you: what is on your mind?”[/color]

Mika was frozen. He was as paralyzed as any man…no, he wasn’t a man. No, he most certainly wasn’t a man. He didn’t feel like one. Ivan had sapped all potential of him keeping the confidence he had when he walked in when he showed his true colors. Mika was physically in the present, but mentally, he was the scared twelve-year-old kid who had just lost his best friend and Ivan was his usual tough love self first, forcing him to stop crying. Told him to man up. Told him that there was no use crying for the dead when there were more important people still alive.

He was there and he wanted to leave so badly. So why did he hold such a grudge for Ivan when he was sent away? He wanted to be away from his father so bad, yet the anger and contempt grew and festered for his father. [color=635687]“I..I--”[/color]

 [color=9932cc]“For the love of God! Mikhail, you need to get a hold of your emotions and just…”[/color] Ivan, in a frustrated state, gave karma to Mika as his left hand landed on his son’s nose, causing him to stagger back and lose his balance over the coffee table that was in the middle of the foyer. And in a simultaneous motion, Ivan fell back to the couch behind him.  [color=9932cc]“Goddamn it. Don’t you see, I’m [i]trying[/i] to make you address everything that has been lingering with you, Mikhail. I know I fucked up raising you, Viktor, and your sisters. I know I’m not the father you wanted or, quite frankly, deserve. I know I’m not John O’Hara or Reynoldo Gonzalez. Hell, Sergei was a better father to you kids than I ever was. He sure as hell acted as a better husband surrogate for Mary than I could ever provide. I’m not anyone who deserves to be called father or husband. And that’s why you need to unleash it all.”[/color] For better or worse, there was no denying that they were father and son. Stubborn, set in their ways, and refusing to address what they’re feeling.

Mika was staring at the ceiling, admiring the fan that spun and spun around. He tried to mute his father’s voice into white noise, but no matter how desperate he was to make that a reality, he couldn’t and he listened to Ivan. For the first time, without the excessive boiling rage within him refusing to let his father’s words really sink in, he heard him. For the first time in so many years, he heard Ivan Zima. The worst part about it all, which burned and tasted way worse than the metallic aroma the blood in his nose gave off, Ivan was right.

Ivan was right about it all.

It wasn’t only the fact that he was right that Mika needed to unburden himself about everything he had been burying inside for so many years. It was what he had told himself since he was shipped off to live with the Gonzlez’s. It was the lasting impression Ivan and VIktor left on him. It was the damage that closed him off and all of the repressed thoughts of being told he wasn’t good enough. Being told he wasn’t allowed to feel anything but the boiling anger that men on his father’s side of the family seemed to thrive in, yet Mika hated it. 

He absolutely hated it.

Ivan, Cameron, and VIktor -- they were the same. The damage done to Mika wasn’t ever going to get better. The only times he ever felt like that he had a chance of being better was when he was with Cece and when he had the guidance of Coach and the boys on the team, but since the shooting, that’s been taken away from him. The lies that he kept from his uncle and the recurring habit of his to always retreat into the circle that a scared and angry thirteen-year-old boy lived.

Mika was no man. No man at all.

As he stood up, he did so at a crossroads. Face his demons right here, right now, address them with his father, or refuse it and go back to Edenridge as fast as he could drive back. It took a minute, but Mika was out of his childhood home. He didn’t say a word to Ivan, despite all of the things his father yelled at him. Saying he was a coward. Saying he was no man. Mika left and he drove as fast as he could out of that cursed home. In his heart, he knew his father was right. 

Secrets. Lies. Refusal to face his demons head-on. He was no better than Ivan was.

A monster and his heir. How fitting.[/indent][/indent][/color]