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Oleg listened to the defeat in his son's voice. No they had to do something. There was no place to go. Nothing that was going to keep them safe. "Crisya and the little ones can go to her mothers. It's in the country, Your mother can finish off their schooling."
But he shook his head as he slid off his perch and walked to his son and wrapped his arms around him. "But Vanya you aren't doing this alone. Maybe there are others - enough of us to see this through. You'll need to be careful. She has eyes everywhere."
Oleg pulled Vanya against his chest. "Your mother and I are so proud of you. We love you son."
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Pop's arms around him were like....it was weird. In his whole life, he could count the times he'd gotten a hug from the man on one hand- and have fingers left over.
He wasn't the guy who did that. Ivan or Pavel had never ran up to hug him when he got home. They'd never wrestled on the floor. He'd never sat in his lap as a child, listening to him and ma talk, to a story he read, or just to the tv as pops watched.
Ma, sure. Alot of those things. Not the wrestling, but everything else. She gave the affection. Pops was.....pops. The judge. The law giver. God. Good, fair, kind. But there was always a distance.
Over the years Ivan had learned to see his father's love in the little things. The roof over their head. The food they ate. That special pair of shoes he wanted. The time under the hood of a car. The talks.
But it was weird because.....for all of that, for all the indirect ways he'd seen his father's love, all the little things.... this , this right here, this was what he'd craved. He'd hungered for. And never knew that until this single moment.
Goddamnit, he was a grownass man! So why was he sobbing uncontrollably right now? Why did he just want his papa, for just this moment?
"I'm sorry. I couldn't stop her. I couldn't save you."
he whispered through his tears, muffled into pop's shoulder, repeatedly.
It was was truest deepest thing he knew about himself, though the why had always eluded him. He had to save people. And he'd failed. And that tore at him, a gaping hole, a maw that he hungered to fill, to make up for. For everyone.
Maybe if he did it enough, he'd be good enough.
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The tears from his son were too much and Oleg fought back his own. This wasn't their thing, but right now they both needed that little extra. Vanya apologized. "There is nothing to be sorry about son. "
He pulled out of the embrace and looked his son in the eye. "This is not your fault. Our family is not in any more danger than they have been your whole life. There is no need for you to be worry. You are a far stronger man than I was. And you have powerful allies. Ascendancy taught you. Surely there is something we can do to help our predicament."
Oleg sat back down on his chair. "So what can your power do? Show me."
There was pride in his voice, and almost a youthful glee. This was like show and tell when Vanya was younger except this time, he was really doing magic.
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Pop's words quieted him. The worry, the fear, everything was still there. But it was manageable because they would do it together. Ma and the little ones safe. That would be one step.
He looked at his pop, thinking. He needed help. Someone he could trust.
His eyes darkened at pop's suggestion. White hot molten lava poured through his veins. His voice was laced with unconcealed disgust. "I will not ask Brandon for help."
He would never call the man Ascendancy again. This is his empire. Either he knows about the Syndicate and allows it, or he is a fool who has surrounded himself with people who tell him what he wants to hear. A fool or complicit. And either way, I want nothing more to do with him."
The venom in his voice was nothing compared to the hatred he felt. And to think he had actually helped save the man's life.
The man was the most powerful person in the world. Could crush him with an empire. His strength in the power was unbelievable. But none of that mattered in the slightest to him. Let him try his stupid looming trick and picking him up or whatever. Rip him to shreds. So what. Crush him, kill him, he would never bend to the man, bow to him and worship and scrape.
No, he needed people he trusted. Alex. And the Cap. Drayson. He knew them. Knew Drayson would take news of the Syndicate seriously.
"I know who I can talk to pops."
He felt better. Cleansed. Enough that he was willing to demonstrate a few things. And told him about the tunnels, what they'd found. It felt good share with his dad. Finally.
The wall had been broken broken. He'd tell the rest too. Even about the girl who stole his heart and ran away.