Chapter Text
"I'm not impressed by pretty-boys from the capital."
Dankovsky smirked. "I haven't been a boy in some time. I am a bachelor of medicine, a fine doctor, and a researcher with one of the most cutting-edge labs in-"
"Where is Rubin?"
"You're looking for him?"
"We're friends."
"I didn't take Rubin to be the kind to have friends."
Artemy said nothing. Gave away nothing.
After a pause, "Well, who would you be, then?"
"Artemy Burakh."
"Oh. Isador's boy?" The Batchelor's gaze dropped and rose again, sizing him up. He cleared his throat and continued "Well, man by the looks of you."
His cheeks flushed an uncomfortable red. It was working -or it was already driving him mad.
“Mmm, I’m not one for mystical inclinations, but when I look at you I feel like nature is playing tricks on us. Like two hands touching the head...
“Shudkher- what the hell does that mean? Why are you in Rubin’s apartment? Where is he, Moga?"
Oh hell.…. This was not going as he had planned.
Forget it.
"Qui non proficit deficit, Next time, Artemy."
"What? Boleesh."
Daniil sighed, touched the clock, and moved on.
-
He was back in the Stillwater where he could think, position the pieces. Artemy seemed the kind of man who didn't let things stop him, but making a cure? Astronomically unlikely. And the vaccine.. still eluded him. The bulls blood led nowhere... at least not scientific. He didn’t want to loose that piece. It softened the Haruspex a great deal. Fuck. He was tired. What day was this? He looked at his notes. Tossed them back on the desk. Swept them to the floor in an unsatisfying flutter. He kicked off his boots, threw his coat on the back of the chair, and fell into bed fully clothed.
Barely two hours later the gnawing in his stomach woke him. Was it… was it right this time? He rubbed his temples. Recalled the day. No, no he just fucked it up again. He sat in bed, head in hands. There were so few moments of respite he had found. He remembered one. He didn't know what unimaginable consequences a flippant rewind unleashed. He didn't currently particularly care. There was only so much screaming and spitting at him he could take without something to keep him going.
---
He was back in Rubin's apartment.
"Who are you?"
He mustered what strength he had. Had angled the desk light to not highlight his face. It would only bring attention to the deep purple bags that shouldn't already be under his eyes.
"Daniil Dankovsky... Batchelor of medicine. You must be Artemy Vorkah,"
"It's Burakh."
"Of course. Apologies." He smiled, warm with the knowledge of the all stolen glances and touches yet to happen." "Mmm. Far be it from me to call myself a person of mystical inclinations. However, when I look at you, I get the feeling that nature is playing jokes on us. It's as if both the left and the right hand have clutched the head to realize for the first time that they are two parts of a single whole...."
Artemy's face contorted before it softened. He cleared his throat. "Yes, I feel it too." His stern shoulders relaxed a bit. "But what does it mean?"
---
He's back in the Stillwater. He loosens his cravat just enough it could be pulled off without complication. Unbuttons his vest, fusses at his collar, top buttons of his shirt oh-so-casually undone. Musses through his hair, messy, but not ridiculous. Not that he particularly needed to play it up. He likely already looks as disheveled and exhausted as he feels.
He feels his presence before he hears him. Familiar foot falls echo in the empty house.
"Emshem! I've brought you something. Here"
He turns from the desk, wet lipped and hazy eyed.
"Yes Burakh?""
"I uh, " he runs his hand backwards through his hair, fumbles through his pocket. "It's bull's blood. They don't get sick... it might." His feet move like lead, arm outstretched.
Daniil tilts his head, blinks slowly. Lets the flush hit his cheeks. "Don't get sick you say?."
He swallows, it makes him look smaller somehow. "No, emshem."
"Call me Daniil. Please."
A hesitant smile cracks at the corner of his lips. "No Daniil, they, seem to be immune or take far longer to show symptoms. Maybe... you can use it?"
"Have you tested it?"
"No." He shook his head as if it were a new idea. "No I came right here..." only now realizing that his feet took him to the bachelor before the need of his own work.
Daniil opens his mouth in a pantomime of surprise. "You flatter me, Artemy. Thank you. This is a gift. I'll get it under the microscope." He's holding his head up on his arm, lets it drop a little, stray hairs falling in his eyes. "It'll take a little while to analyze." He looks down his form, familiar to him of what lies beneath all that leather. "You're exhausted. you should rest."
"I'm fine, em..."
"Daniil. And you can sleep here. Please, the bed is right there. You need your beauty rest, surgeon. You've seen better days."
He chuckles, an honest laugh bringing the tone back to easy and teasing.
There are so many ways this night can go. He could wake him with his sobbing. With the sharp crash of beakers and tubes pushed to the floor. With the cocking of his gun. But no. Tonight requires a softer touch. A reminder of what is in the world beyond death, decay, and hatred.
He kneels by the bed, just about at face height. Runs the back of his fingers along the stubble of his jaw while Artemy is still asleep. Traces his cheekbones, even more prominent from their sparce diets A distinct mix of features that is handsome in a hard-to-describe way; and at times, terribly intimidating. But for now, his face is still. His plush, wide lips are lax and Daniil runs a finger over them.
No time like the present. He shakes his shoulder, hard enough he knows will wake him. Dares to brush the falling strands from his forehead as he blinks awake. His hair is messy and it's such a silly look on him Daniil can't help but smile.
"Did.. did it work?" He rubs at his eyes.
"No... no Artemy. It's too different. You're right it's resistant, but .... too different from humans."
"Why are you smiling then, emshem?"
Daniil hums to himself, still toying with the mop of curls. Artemy flinches a bit, face flushes a dusty pink as he registers the touch. He looks at him then. Questioning. Unmoving.
"Why did you bring the vial here, Artemy?" He whispers it like he already knows the answer. Because he does.
He watches his eyebrows draw in. Like he can't find the words. Daniil moves closer for easier access to card through his hair.
"It... could of helped you with the vaccine."
"Did you have more?"
"No."
"Mmm."
He nods. Looks at him, a loaded, knowing glance. Fingers still winding around his tawny hair. Artemy's all curious tension. He can see it in his shoulders, the hard set of his jaw.
"Artemy...I know time is in short supply." Was it? "And we don't know what fresh hell awaits us...."
He brushes the back of his fingers down his cheek now. Artemy's eyes are wide, hesitant, but a glimmer there.
"If you would be amenable to it, to indulge me, or let me indulge you, and just forget all this." He waves his free hand aimlessly toward the window. "For a little while. With me."
He leans in, chin resting now on the bed, close enough to feel the heat off of him. Close enough to touch if Artemy wants, and if he's done everything right - he does.
Flashes of emotion cross his face. Daniil lets him think, lets his eyes wonder. Until Artemy reaches out to wrap his hand gently at the base of his skull and pull him in. He kisses him, hard and slow. Daniil sighs into it, no time or inclination to hide his palatable relief. His lips are still so soft. Not yet fully ravaged by thirst. He lets him lead. Relaxes into the strong hand at the back of his neck and lets him guide the pace of sliding their lips together.
"Please." he mutters into his lips. Little prayers to urge him on. They work. He grasps at his shirt, a hungrier grip to pull him properly onto the bed and together.
A rough thumb swipes at his cheek as he urges his mouth open. Exploring with his tongue, a taste of autumn and iron and herbs. Daniil is boneless for a while. Drifting on the smell and taste and feel of him. Slow drags of his tongue meet his. Artemy takes his time journeying down to his jaw to his neck, pulling the cravat away in a smooth motion. Daniil notes that was a good call to loosen it this time. Their bodies are flush, Artemy's working buttons now in the slim space between them. Not letting up on his shoulder with lips and tongue and teeth.
"Please..." he encourages again. To rile him, to pull out some of the beast that wants to claim and soothe and take him apart all at once.
He hears him inhale, hard, at that. Knows his stomach is clenching. Artemy moves to straddle him, pulling his shirt off his shoulders, running his hands up and down his sides. Pauses to look at him from above, pupils wide and Daniil nearly whines at the sight. It’s a sharp sound caught in the back of his throat but the hungry face Artemy makes at it is revelatory, the only divinity he'd recognize. He squirms under him, his arousal more than apparent now. Artemy descends again, kissing at his neck, fumbling at his buttons. Daniil helps him, brushing along the front of his worn slacks as he does, and that earns a groan. He's holding back. Of course he is. After all, for him, this is their first time.
They fumble together to get his slacks off. He's planting kisses down the center of his chest, nosing at the hair there. Sliding himself backward and following the trail down to the band of his undergarments. Artemy stops at the band, mouths teasingly at this cock through the fabric. HIs hands are at his hipbones, strong. Possessive. Thumb rubbing in the divot. Daniil is trying to not buck his hips into jaw as Artemy looks up, a coy smile asking for permission.
Daniil nods, flushed and panting and aware he's covered in a glean of sweat. He wont admit it for a few days yet, but it's driving Artemy wild. The heady scent of him, he would lick the sheen of it off every inch if he didn't think it might ruin the mood.
With permission granted, he wastes no time, pulling his underwear down, exposing him to the air. He's achingly hard, gently bucking his hips for attention. Artemy takes his length in hand, curiously strokes expecting more skin and finding none.
"I've heard of such practices...but never seen it."
Daniil chuckles. Finds breathy words. "I hope that doesn't bother you."
"No." He traces a finger from base to tip and Daniil shudders. "I suppose ill just have to be more careful."
"Actually, unless you're using only your hands you don't..."
A tongue sliding against his glans keeps his words in the back of his throat. Much gentler than the heavy hands pinning his hips to the bed. Soft, languid swirls, as he teases at taking the head in his mouth.
"Fuck..." he breathes out, an arm draping over his face, grounding him.
Inch by inch he works his way down, attentively, anguishing slow. Hands caress the inside of his thigh, traveling ever inward until he's teasing at his perineum. It's not long before it's overwhelming and he squirms under him.
"Artemy... it's too much.. I'll"
He only pins him further in place, head bobbing now, sliding him against his pallet on every smooth, wet dip of his mouth.
"Please... let me touch you."
That works. He slowly rises, kissing and licking his way off his cock. Moving his mouth back up his stomach, his chest, swiping along a nipple before resting back at his mouth. Daniil fumbles at his sweater. They both fuss at his pants, their hands in a ridiculous battle to undress him. Bare now, he lays down, pulling them chest to chest. Daniil's rougher now, impatient. Biting at his lip and taking him in hand. He relishes in the familiar heft of him, the soft pull of skin as he strokes him. He's smiling against Artemy's mouth, twisting his wrist between them, pulling low moans with every stutter of hips. They're nose to nose as Artemy begins to let go, lets himself roll his hips up to his palm. Daniil could only stare at his screw-shut eyes. Open mouth. A veritable symphony of small sounds.
Artemy breaks a bit from his reverie, kissing Daniil again, Moves so he can slide his hand between them to offer relief in return. Rougher now, fucking slowly, forcefully into his hand. A preview, he knew, of how he would fuck him. The pressure builds until there is nothing but the sound of them panting, desperately chasing release. Daniil comes first, with a whine he would be ashamed of in other times. Hips stuttering in time as he comes in slow waves over their stomachs. Artemy tumbles over soon after, gripping tight in Daniil's hair, kissing him hard enough to bruise as he rides out his orgasm, a moan he doesn't quite let fully slip from his throat.
For a blissful, quiet moment, they stay there, Daniil's cock softening in Artemy's hand. Bodies limp and taut at the same time. Artemy remained hard longer, the bachelor gently squeezing, stroking, unwilling to yet let the feel of him leave his grasp.
Daniil kisses him with a gentle intimacy that he hasn't earned. Not yet. He cards through his messy hair again with his clean hand. He adores those curls.
"Thank you."
Artemy laughs. Short and surprised. "That's an odd thing to say here, emshem."
"Is Daniil gone so soon?" His thumb still running lazy lines along Artemy's softening cock.
He shudders at the touch, face softening again, confusion at the edge.
"No, no I suppose it isn't. Unless you want it to be..."
Daniil watches the path of his eyes, searching over his own, his mouth, until they focus on some invisible point. Artemy quietly sighs, closes his eyes, and leans into the fingers on his scalp.
"I- It's not... I'm not sure that..."
Daniil gently releases him from the overstimulation. Kisses the corner of his mouth. Chaste. Soft. "No need to overthink it my dear colleague. I very much needed that. Something... human. Perhaps you did too?"
Artemy opens his eyes, a sadness there, and focuses on him again. A worry sits at the edges of his mouth, but he puts his palm flat on the bachelor's chest. Fusses at the thick hair there. Wets his lips before he speaks. "Yes, em- Daniil. Something human." Daniil watches his jaw soften again. "You should rest.... for your sake. You must be as exhausted as I am."
"Likely am." he agrees, letting the heaviness of his eyelids show. "My evening is not done yet... but I have some time. To rest."
"I can wake you as you did for me."
"Oh no.." he pulls him back flush, nestling his head on his arm. " I would prefer you stay right here."
His face flushes a deep pink. He nods.
"Okay. Sleep, Noukherne."
----
He wakes. Where was he? What day is it?
----
Daniil's in Maria's house
Daniil's crying outside the theatre
Daniil's leveling his revolver at his assailant
Daniil's pulling the torniquet with his teeth
Daniil's showing Little how to biopsy
---
His head is buried under his hands, forehead pressed to a table in the Broken Heart. He feels Artemy's presence behind him before he hears him.
"I'm taking you home."
"About time." he mutters, mostly into the table.
"What does that mean? Never mind, Get up, I'll walk you back."
The air was too cold. He had left his coat somewhere. Would he find it in another loop? He laughed. Could he loose things? Truly loose them if he can always go back?
Artemy stopped walking. Stared at him. What?
"What?"
"I'm worried about you, erdem."
"You don't have time to be worried, Burakh. You have your wards to care for, antibiotics to make, and a magical paneacea..." he chuckled, "to make."
"Andrey said you were waving your pistol around town. Would have fed you back to the mob if he didn't owe you one."
Artemys face reddened and he turned back around. They continued walking.
"Exaggerated. They don't see I'm helping them."
"Boleesh! You're not helping anyone, moga." His voice was raised, fists clenched. "You're barely standing. Tsoe she daa?"
"Is that a question? I don't know what you're saying. Where are we going?" The ground was rough, he stumbled. Fuck.
He made a sound not unlike like a growl. "You won’t even make it to the Stillwater. Fine, sleep it off at the factory."
Daniil huffed. He could still walk. The steppe was just knotted with roots. But, yes, the factory. There was comfort to be found there. Rest. They completed the rest of the journey without speaking.
As soon as Artemy locked the iron door, Daniil was undressing. In nothing but his thin undergarments, he climbs into Artemy's bed. Pats the space next to him.
But he doesn't move.
"What do you think this is, Dankovsky?"
"Is this not one.... oh hell, is this not one where we're lovers?"
Artemy was still, save the slow dropping of his jaw. The most incredulous look on his face.
"What?"
Suppose not.
"You see, we, we're two sides of the same coin, Tyoma. You're my constant in a sea of variables... we always do this."
"Have you lost your mind, Dankovsky?"
He rolls his eyes. Too simple to confuse genius with madness.
"You're running around the streets threatening people, a pharmacy in your veins, and now I'm supposed to what? Come sleep with you?"
"There have been times, yes. The fight sometimes gets your blood hot." Christ, he has to explain this...
“Honestly, I think it always does…have we ever had a scuffle that didn't get you hard?”
“Amaa tat! Shudkher... " Artemy's hands were fists at his side.
"If I recall, the last time we fought like this, keerkhen, you screamed my name as you came down my throat."
"Get Out." His voice level, commanding.
"Nonsense. If you don't want to fuck me tonight...."
"Now."
Was he shaking? Mad?
"You're just going to kick me out on the streets?"
"Dankovsky, out."
Hell. He stumbled as he hastily threw on his clothing.
"Fine, fine. I'm leaving. But if I get stabbed again out there, that is on you." He goes for the door. "You act like this matters, Toyma!" Artemy's blue eyes gleam wet when he looks back.
Daniil leaves.
-----
Daniil's sewing his side shut
Daniil's pleading for Artemy's life
Daniil's running out of morphine
---
Daniil takes the bottle. They can hardly spare the indulgence, but they're alive. Artemy's alive. He wants to reach out and touch his neck to know its real, unmarred. But it strikes him as particularly morbid so he refrains. He takes another swig. It warms him in the cool steppe air.
"Thank you, keerkhen."
Artemy's looking at him. His face so openly fond it shows how young he is. Brightens his eyes.
"I wouldn't leave you to hang, Toyma." He stares into the bottle. Swirls the liquid around.
"You're not the asshole everyone thinks you are."
"Is that a compliment?"
"Yes. Come here." he pulls Daniil down to where he's laying. Rubs his thumb over his lips.
He wants to ask him so many questions, but he thinks better of that, too. They could be dead tomorrow. Or fixing everything. So instead he keeps silent and takes Artemy's thumb in his mouth. Circles his tongue around the thick digit. Looks over him with half-lidded eyes. Watches as dark overtakes that icy blue. Involuntary reaction to stimulus....
"No one around for miles, Danya..."
He holds the digit in his teeth. Clicks his tongue. "Indeed." Moves attention to other fingers, dipping them deep against his tongue. Artemy's staring, unmistakable lust in his eyes, the way his bottom lip hangs. He pulls his hand back and kisses him. Pushes him over on his back, crawling over him. A thrilling imposing shadow in the dusk.
"Let me thank you, keerkhen."
---
......If I buy the bull, Tyoma won't bring the vial. What if I simply let Vlad be eaten? Am I supposed to sleep with Eva? Do NOT tell Artemy about what you find in his father's house. Grace belongs at the graveyard. I will soon be asking Block to insert these food coupons robustly into his anus. Heron is a son-of-a-bitch. They will lynch him if you can't account for his whereabouts. .......
"Daniil, what is this?"
"It's my notes, Burakh."
He reads them out loud. Slow, methodical. "Was with the children until noon. Artemy will cut her still-beating heart if you ask....does this matter? What is this? Are you following me?"
"No, of course not, unless I'm looking for you...."
"Cut out her heart? Danya, I thought.... I thought you of all people at this point would know that..."
Shit. "It doesn't happen like that..."
"What does that mean? What are these notes, Daniil?"
"I... we try to see if we can make something from living tissue... but we didn't do it this time."
"This time?"
"No, look, Artemy. Tyoma, I've, we've done this before. All of this."
"Have you been drinking? Strychnine?"
Oh this one is going right to hell too, isn't it? Totum revolutum. "It's fine. None of this will have happened."
Artemy sat, tense, mouth a thin line.
"You should sleep. You sound like a madman."
"No, I just have to hide them. Or maybe tell you earlier? Would this of been better if I told you outright?"
Artemy moves like a waking titan, lifting himself off the chair in slow motion. His head hangs down, won't look him in eye. Daniil laughs, he would stop him, but what's the point? Artemy turns at the cusp of the doorway. Rubs at his forehead, brows furrowed. He looks at him then. "I really thought..."
Daniil meets his eyes. Impatient. Be done with it.
“I'm so sorry. Goodbye, Daniil.”
----
Daniil's digging through trash
Daniil's begging for a child's life
Daniil's kissing the barrel of his derringer
----
Rubin was no where to be seen. He must of left promptly after. Daniil was not surprised.
He lifts his head up from the cradle of his hands to look at him. "I couldn't of done it without you, Burakh."
Artemy frowns. No response.
He sighs, audibly, and leans back, lets his head fall back on the overly lush couch of the Saburovas. To hell with it. "Would you believe me if I told you.... that we've done this before?"
"Done what? Surgery?"
"No Artemy." He didn't recall if they were on a first name basis here. He didn't care. "This. All of this. That we've done this procedure, several times, all to different endings. That I've...that I know what will happen tomorrow. That I can change what happened yesterday..."
His face was unreadable. "No. No oynon, I would not."
Daniil laughs, incredulous. "Really? This town worships a man who is more of an idea than a man, takes direction from women who see the future, and we're running from a living plague."
"One cannot change the past, oynon. Very few can see the future."
He unpins his cravat and let his head roll back down to look him in the eyes. "You named your bull Mounkhe. You prefer to sleep fully naked and first slept with a man in your second year in university. Sticky has trouble with timing but his measurements are impeccable."
His brows pull in. The only tell on a stoic face. "A pretty face alone doesn’t make a mistress. It's a nice parlor trick, but I might be too tired to understand the joke. Who told you these things?"
Daniil sighs again, pulls out a cigarette. Snaps the case shut, loud.
"You did, Tyoma." The heavy smell of tobacco fills the room.
"Am I Tyoma now to you?"
"Not yet. Not here. But in other times? Yes. That is what I am most used to calling you by now." He fidgets with the cigarette between his bare fingers. "I've spent more time with you than you have with me. In some paths, you couldn't escape the gallows." He pauses, unintentionally. Lets the smoke roll out of his mouth and the bitter taste of the thought with it. "In some, we never spat so much a hint of vile at each other. In some, we fought tooth and nail. In many, we're lovers."
"... oynon, Dankovsky... I respect you. We do not always see to eye to eye, but you risked your reputation for me. You made a hospital from nothing. You are helping my townspeople and out of that respect, I will take my leave. Perhaps you have the sight. Perhaps you have a fever. Perhaps the strychnine has eaten your brain. But I will see you next at the hospital. Rested and sane...I hope."
Daniil laughed. "Of course, my haruspex. My diviner of entrails. My reluctant counterpart now thinks I'm the one lost in dreams and madness? I will see you tomorrow my friend where you will once again be Burakh to me. Murky waits for you this evening. Be careful of her friend."
"Murky often waits outside the lair. This isn't prophesy..." He rises to leave.
"You can't save her Tyoma." He takes a long drag. Stares deep into him.
"Who?"
"Lara.” And snubs his cigarette. “I can't save her either. I've tried. I'm so sorry, keerkhen. She has no other path."
He stills at the door, confusion and hurt clear on his face. But Daniil meet his eyes, unflinching. He won't lie to this one.
"Believe me, I've tried."
---