Chapter Text
After New Years, and Hawk's humiliating defeat, Hawk and Miguel had gone back to their patrols. Once spring hit and the ground started to thaw there were more zombies around and work got busier. There was always something to focus on killing, something to distract him from Demetri’s stupid article about him.
What in the zombie-infested hell had he been trying to pull with that one?
The ever-increasing number of zombies to slay was maybe the only thing that stopped him from hunting Demetri down after he read that one. Then, not long after, Hawk and Miguel had been called back to Silver Manor.
Silver Manor was Duke Silver’s country home. It was the Kreese Regiment’s base of operations the same way the Miyagi Regiment worked out of the general’s estate. The duke was almost never there and Hawk had never seen him. He assumed he was in the capitol talking business and politics with wealthy lords and business owners. The regiment had free reign of the house and grounds and it didn’t really look much like a nobleman’s estate these days so much as training grounds and barracks.
“Get your asses in gear! Or do you want the Miyagi fighters to think you’re a bunch of delicate little ladies?” Lieutenant Lawrence had been in a foul mood lately. Miguel told Hawk he heard a rumor the lieutenant’s son had joined the Miyagi Regiment, so they’d been assuming that was why. At least in part. It also seemed to be a point of stress for him that they would be meeting with Lieutenant LaRusso – a Miyagi Regiment fighter he regarded as a rival – soon.
“No Sir!” Hawk, Miguel, and a couple of the other Cobras currently training under the lieutenant answered in unison even as they continued their drills. It had been a while since Hawk had trained with the lieutenant and while he generally wasn’t as hard on them as the colonel, these last few days had been a bit of a deviation from the norm because of the upcoming meeting.
The house of lords had, apparently, become quite divided as of late. Lord Melvin, whose Christmas party Hawk had attended that past winter, was apparently some sort of swing vote as to whether his lordship Duke Silver’s mother’s claim to the throne should be re-examined (if they decided she should have been queen while she was alive that would make her son’s claim to the throne almost undeniable). Lord Melvin had become concerned with the state of the competing regiments after the Miyagi fighters stayed with him over the holiday, however, and was pushing for some kind of summit between them rather that making up his mind about the other issue.
The summit would take place at the Miyagi estate. Colonel Kreese would not attend and, although he would be present at his own home, General Miyagi would not participate in any formal talks. Hawk supposed it would be pretty weak to seem too invested in the talks and get snubbed by your rival, or to show up as the top guy and get stuck talking around in circles about things your subordinates could have hammered out. That Miyagi – a general knighted by the previous king – was allowing a colonel – a soldier technically lower in the rankings than he was – to be cast as his equal in this way was already pretty weak on his part. It was no wonder his regiment was growing so much more slowly than the Kreese Regiment.
Hawk did not view the difference in rank between Colonel Kreese and the old general as significant. Colonel Kreese should have been a general a hundred times over by now, in his opinion, and the only reason he hadn’t been promoted was because of politics. The colonel was close with the duke, the duke was a threat to the king, and so of course the powers that be wouldn’t allow the colonel to advance any further in his career.
He was functionally a general – at least – given the size of the force he’d built up under his command, and given that they were all loyal to him over any general that was technically ranked above him. If anything, old man Miyagi agreeing to allow these discussions as if they were on equal ground only strengthened his claim to the rank.
Overall, participating in the summit was probably a good move for the regiment politically. It made them look good, made Miyagi look weak, and Hawk knew it would not actually lead to any sort of shameful compromise. The idea was for Lieutenants Lawrence and LaRusso to have preliminary talks, go back to their commanders, and then for terms of further talks to be negotiated based on the results of that exercise. Lieutenant Lawrence had told them he was taking a handful of their best fighters with him as a show of strength, though. They were going to intimidate their enemies, not negotiate.
Miguel was excited to see Miss Samantha LaRusso again, despite their lieutenant’s warnings about the LaRusso family. His excitement only served to underscore the reason that Hawk – despite his pride at being chosen as one of the fighters the lieutenant wanted to show off – wasn’t looking forward to the trip. What if Demetri was there?
In theory, there shouldn’t be many Miyagi fighters there because spring was the worst season for zombies. Things got a bit slow in the winter because frost and snow made it harder for the dead to rise and could slow them down somewhat if they managed it anyways. Spring was when any zombies that had been delayed managed to claw their way up almost all at once. Part of Hawk wondered if it was really okay for Lieutenant Lawrence to be taking four of them away from their work for a week for a reason like this. Couldn’t he have gone alone, or just have taken Miguel?
Hawk supposed it wasn’t his job to ask questions like that. He had questioned Lieutenant Lawrence once already since they’d been back at base and it had gone horribly. It was just that he’d been genuinely surprised to learn that the Miyagi fighters didn’t get adrenaline sick in the same way Miguel had on New Year’s – in the same way Hawk himself had been for part of the time between Christmas and New Years, which was why he hadn't been able to challenge Demetri earlier. The first time it had happened to Hawk personally had been on his first patrol after he started training under the colonel directly and had officially sworn his oath of allegiance to the Cobras. It had been Miguel who assured him it was no big deal, that it happened to all of their top fighters sometimes. It was just a consequence of how hard they pushed themselves.
Despite it happening to all of the top fighters sometimes, it was not talked about. Hawk had always supposed that was because whining about it would be weak.
In theory the Miyagi fighters also pushed themselves pretty hard and faced the same kinds of peril, though. Hawk assumed they should face the same sickness in that case. But Demetri said they didn’t. Hawk’s initial assumption was that he was wrong and they just weren’t working as hard – Hawk had thought he’d been working hard for the year of fighting he’d done before training with the colonel, after all, so it’s not like it wasn’t possible to do the job without getting sick because of it.
Something still hadn’t sat right with him. He wasn’t even sure what. He’d asked Lieutenant Lawrence about it and…
“Miguel got sick, he got better. You got sick, you got better. So what’s the issue?”
“De – the Miyagi fighters said they don’t get sick.”
“Well they’re lying, everyone gets sick. If you’re about to suggest we start eating their rabbit food –“
“No, not normal sick. You know. Sick from fighting the dead.”
“Did you get bitten, Hawk?” The Lieutenant had looked up from his paperwork for the first time since Hawk had entered his office.
“No! No, I just –“
“Are you trying to get out of the Miyagi summit? Because I don’t need quitters on this team.”
“No, I… No. Sorry sir.”
He’d been excused after that. He’d considered bringing it up with the colonel, but if the lieutenant was too busy to deal with whatever stupid questions had popped into Hawk’s head then the colonel would be to. He didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of both of his commanders.
When training was done for the day the Lieutenant reminding them that they’d be leaving in the morning and would arrive at the Miyagi estate in two days, barring major interruptions to their journey. They were to be fully packed, fully equipped, and ready to leave by sunrise.
Hawk was on his way back to his bunk when someone told him the colonel wanted to see him in his study. When he got there the man was smoking a cigar in front of a roaring fire and reading the paper.
“You know who he is, don’t you?” Colonel Kreese turned the paper as Hawk entered the room, letting him see that he was reading Demetri’s column. “You’re the ‘best friend’ he wrote about?”
“…Yes sir.” Hawk answered, a bit puzzled by his own hesitation.
“And you haven’t told anyone?” Hawk panicked internally as he realized his mistake. He had mentioned it to Miguel, sure, but he hadn’t reported the identity of ‘D’ to either of his superiors or spread the information amongst the other Cobras. Why hadn’t he reported it? Colonel Kreese had probably called him in here to reprimand him.
“No sir, I’m so –“
“Don’t apologize. I understand it must be embarrassing. I’m sure you’re not the only one here with someone they want to leave in the past. Not everyone understands how vital the Cobras are to this country.”
The colonel assumed he was hiding ‘D’s identity because he was ashamed to know him. Which had not been the case. Had it? Hawk couldn’t point to any other logical reason why he wouldn’t have reported it, so maybe it was. The colonel was being understanding about the situation too, which made Hawk feel even worse for hiding the information.
“Come, Hawk, sit down.” Colonel Kreese gestured to the other armchair by the fire.
Hawk did his best not to show how intimidated he was by the prospect of sitting with his commander like that. It was an honour. And he was going to mess it up somehow. He was –
He was thinking like ‘Eli’. He had to be confident, like the colonel expected from him. He took a seat.
“Your acquaintance says you’ve become ruthless – willing to attack even an old friend at the first sign of criticism.”
“I couldn’t just let him keep writing that shit.” Hawk stated unapologetically, fairly sure his commander wanted him to take ownership of what he’d done. He did wonder if using the word ‘shit’ was a step too far with a superior officer, for a moment, but the colonel just smiled.
“You made the right call. I hope I can count on you to continue making the right call.”
“Sir?”
“I have a special mission for you, but it has to be a secret. Not even Lieutenant Lawrence can know. He’s a strong fighter and a strong leader, but subtlety has never been his strong suit.” Hawk felt a little like he should object on his original teacher’s behalf, but mostly it was just a rush to have the colonel be this candid with him. Not to mention choose him for a secret mission. “Are you comfortable hiding this from the lieutenant?”
“If that’s what you need me to do.”
“Good.”
“The lieutenant only wanted to take Mr. Diaz with him on to the Miyagi summit, but I knew you would be the right person for this mission. That’s why I suggested he bring a slightly larger entourage.” The colonel stood then and walked to his desk. He returned with a small pouch and, still standing over Hawk’s chair, handed it to him. “Be very careful with this, the powder inside is a deadly poison. If a bit of it even gets on your skin you'll need to wash it off right away.”
“Poison, sir?” Hawk stared at the inconspicuous little bag, confused. Zombies couldn’t be poisoned.
“I know. I’d rather defeat the old bastard in a fight, but he’s too much of a coward to face me and we need him out of the way.”
The old bastard? Hawk's confusion must have shown on his face because the colonel stated his intentions more clearly after that.
“Hawk, I want you to remove General Miyagi from the game board.”
The colonel had chosen him as… an assassin?
“Unless you don’t have the stomach for it?” Colonel Kreese raised an eyebrow when Hawk hesitated.
“…No, I do. I won’t let you down.”
-
The Miyagi Estate was beautiful in the springtime. The Cobras had arrived just as the imported cherry trees were all in bloom and ruined the tranquility the blossoms usually inspired, of course, but it was still pretty. Ironic: the first time Demetri had seen the long pathway lined with soft pink blossoms and petals drifting through the air he’d wished he could walk it with Eli by his side. He supposed now he could. All he'd have to do would be to walk up to him, tell him his colonel was overrated, and his former friend would probably chase him across the whole picturesque estate.
Originally Lieutenant LaRusso was going to meet with Lieutenant Lawrence alone, although it was expected Lawrence would bring one other fighter both to avoid the dangers of being on the road alone and because he would be in “enemy” territory surrounded by “Miyagi loyalists”. Lieutenant LaRusso had received word that Lawrence was actually bringing 4 or 5 fighters, however, and had called him, Sam, and Mr. Keene back from their patrols. He wanted them to be ready, just in case the Cobras tried something.
They’d stood to greet their guests in front of the manor that morning and things had been… tense.
The Cobras – Lieutenant Lawrence, Mr. Diaz, 'Hawk', and two young men Demetri was unacquainted with – had looked around at the sprawling fields and gardens and apparently found it all lacking judging by their expressions. Their home base was probably a 'serious training ground' with lots of mud or something. Lawrence had greeted Lieutenant LaRusso with a curt nod, which had been returned in kind, and General Miyagi had laughed and told them that just because the talks didn’t start until tomorrow didn’t mean they had to be silent now.
Usually Demetri enjoyed the general’s sense of humor, but he’d been a bit too absorbed in his own glaring match with Hawk to appreciate it at that moment.
The Cobras had been shown to their guest rooms after that and Demetri hadn’t seen Hawk since. In theory there would be a bit of a welcoming party tonight. Maybe he’d see him then. Maybe Hawk would try to pick another fight in the middle of another dance floor. Demetri had half expected to be attacked by him randomly while out on patrols ever since his latest column had been published.
It was depressing to even think about. So, Demetri was taking a stroll under the cherry blossoms and trying to will the scenery to lift his spirits. He'd never been one for the outdoors previous to joining the regiment, but he'd grown to find nature calming. It was not currently working, however. He resolved to turn back soon, but then he saw something unexpected.
He reached a small creek cutting across the path and found Eli standing there on the bridge, frowning down at the water.
He looked as worn down as Demetri had ever seen him. He wasn’t crying, but his blue eyes looked wet. He was leaning against the rail of the bridge like there was a giant boulder pressing down on his shoulders.
“Eli?” Demetri spoke before he remembered this wasn’t his dear friend who he could cheer up with sarcastic whispering.
Eli jumped, startled, and Demetri was glad the grounds had been swept for zombies the day before because Eli had probably been too out of it to notice one approaching.
“Are you… okay?”
“I’m fine.” Hawk didn’t quite snap, he didn’t seem to have the energy, but his voice was harsh. “I’m just… thinking.”
“And here I thought you’d given up the hobby.” Sometimes Demetri’s mouth was faster than his brain, but the comment didn’t earn him an attack or seem to upset Eli further. He just glared and turned back to the water. Demetri tentatively moved to join him on the bridge, leaning against the rail as well.
“What’s bothering you?”
“Nothing.”
“Okay, then what are you thinking about?”
Eli didn’t answer. He also didn’t walk away or tell Demetri to leave him.
“…the trees are nice, huh?” Demetri had never been good at letting silence stretch on too long.
“What?”
“The cherry blossoms. They don’t bloom for very long, but I got to see them last year too. I thought you’d like them. I mean, you’ve always had more of a sense for aesthetics than me.”
Eli was again silent.
Part of Demetri wanted to keep standing on the bridge, watching the petals fall with Eli and… pretending. But too much had changed. For all he knew the thing bothering Eli was that he had to be here with him. Maybe his last column had been upsetting to him.
Demetri should just go. He leaned away from the railing, and that’s when Eli spoke.
“I am, you know. Ruthless.”
That was what Demetri had put in his column about how the Kreese Regiment had changed his friend. He said he’d become ruthless and obsessed with violence and strength, and compared him to how Lieutenant LaRusso described the Cobras he’d known in his youth.
“That’s how you acted the last time I saw you.” Demetri didn’t know what Eli was looking for from him, but he still seemed so sad. Maybe he was having second thoughts after all?
“If it’s for the Cobras, I’ll take on anybody.”
“I know…”
“I’ll take out anybody.”
“No.” Demetri said with a certainty he felt in his heart, even as the more logical parts of his brain tried to calculate the truth of the statement.
“You don’t think I have it in me?”
“I think maybe anyone does. But you’re not actually some mindless fighting machine, Eli. You wouldn’t cross that line just to act tough or make Kreese happy or whatever it is that motivates you now.”
“I think I could.” Eli seemed to be talking to the stream.
“Well, the Eli I know wouldn’t. But you could always choose to be someone else.”
“I thought I already did.” Eli seemed to be talking to himself, which was good because Demetri wasn’t sure what to say and was pretty sure that if he tried to say anything a whole rant about Eli’s choices would come tumbling out.
He pushed away from the rail again then. As he walked away thought he might have heard Eli’s whispered confirmation that he did like the cherry blossoms, but he didn’t let himself turn back. He didn't know how to comfort Eli in this moment without pushing him farther away by implying he was 'weak', and Eli was probably struggling with something like intimidating landowners into supporting his regiment. He couldn't tell him 'everything's okay' when he was probably involved in things that were very much not okay.
By the time the party started his former friend’s sharp-smiling mask was back in place.
-
Hawk didn’t dump the poison in the garden because he was a coward who couldn’t go through with his mission. And he definitely wasn’t second guessing whether the order he received was right or not. Not at all. No matter how kind and genial the old man had seemed talking with the father and daughter LaRussos that morning. He wasn’t feeling in over his head. He hadn’t wanted to spill his guts to Demetri even more than he already had. He didn’t need help out of a bad situation.
It was just that poison was a coward’s way to kill, and Colonel Kreese knew it. He said himself he’d rather best General Miyagi in combat. It was probably bothering him more than he’d let on that he wouldn’t get the chance to duel the general. That’s how they should be settling the score between their regiments, not with this farce of a summit.
Hawk had decided he would try to get Lieutenant Lawrence to issue the challenge. Or try to get Miyagi to issue one to Colonel Kreese. Or something. He wasn’t sure how. But he was sure this was the right call. Probably. Colonel Kreese had said he trusted him to make the right call. He’d probably end up thanking him.
He'd find a way to make sure the colonel fought a real duel against Miyagi, the colonel would win, and the Miyagi Regiment would fizzle out from the humiliation. It'd be perfect. And Hawk wouldn't have to poison anyone.
To make sure the poison still went to good use, Hawk dumped it around the roots of this dumb little tree that seemed to be some kind of center piece in Miyagi’s back garden. The colonel would probably get a kick out of that. Hopefully.
Despite the immense feeling of relief he’d initially had when the plan had occurred to him, Hawk was starting to worry a bit more about how he was going to pull it off without disappointing the colonel. He had a whole week to figure it out, though, and now he’d be able to think without being hyperaware of the poison weighing down his pocket.
That evening Miyagi threw them a sort of welcome party with a big dinner and music afterwards. Demetri kept shooting him glances through their meal that were varying degrees of concerned, confused, and judgmental so Hawk was doing his best to project that their embarrassing conversation that morning hadn’t happened – as far as he was concerned – and he was feeling fantastic.
He would have liked to distract himself talking to Miguel or listening to Lieutenant Lawrence, but they were both busy elsewhere. Lieutenant Lawrence was busy glaring at Lieutenant LaRusso across the table while shooting intermittent sad glances at Mr. Robert Keene, a Miyagi fighter Hawk assumed was his son. Miguel was trying to chat with Miss Samantha LaRusso, but so was Mr. Keene, and so the three of them were... Hawk couldn’t tell if they were engaged in a conversation, an argument, or some kind of contest of wills. Miss LaRusso did not seem to be enjoying herself, in any case. Hopefully Miguel didn't end up in a mopey mood.
The other Cobras they’d brought with them - a Mr. Rickenberger and a Mr. Mincks - were not people Hawk was particularly close with, but he still made a show of smirking and laughing at their jokes.
There were other guests at the party besides the two factions, which made things marginally less awkward than they could have been. After dinner some people actually danced, for starters. Miguel asked Miss LaRusso to dance and she seemed to agree, despite having appeared annoyed with him and Mr. Keene during dinner. Of course, Mr. Keene also asked her to dance after that. Hawk stopped paying attention to that situation because it seemed irritating.
One of the Cobras that Hawk had been speaking to during dinner was dancing with a young lady whose family probably owned land somewhere in the area. Mr. Rickenberger seemed to have vanished, probably escaping to his room. Hawk considered following suit. He’d been hoping for a chance to talk to Lieutenant Lawrence so he could try to put his plan in motion, but after dinner the two lieutenants ended up in armchairs on one end of the room talking in hushed voices. Hawk knew the colonel had instructed Lieutenant Lawrence not to actually agree to anything in their talks, so maybe they were talking about Keene? Again, Hawk wasn’t interested except that it meant he wouldn’t get a chance to talk to Lieutenant Lawrence and try to put his own plan in play.
He wasn’t in the mood to soak in the admiration of random civilians at this party, and the random civilians in these parts seemed to support the Miyagi Regiment and regard the Kreese Regiment with suspicion anyways so there wasn’t much admiration being sent in his direction.
Demetri was standing awkwardly by the drink table, the way the two of them always used to do at events like these. They caught each other’s eyes.
Hawk glared. Demetri rolled his eyes and raised his drink as if in greeting. Hawk went to pour himself some punch, just to show that if he did end up leaving early it wouldn’t be to avoid his former friend.
“So, seems like you’ve pulled yourself out of the metaphorical ditch.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“I'm sure.”
“Good.”
“I have a theory, you know.”
“Of course you do. You have opinions about everything.” It was Hawk’s turn to roll his eyes as he sipped his punch.
“Naturally.” Demetri agreed as if it wasn’t an insult. “Anyways, I think maybe you think I’m right.”
“I do not know what you’re referring to, but I do know you're wrong.”
“About you. The things I wrote about you in my column, I think you think they’re true. And I don’t think you like that they’re true.” Demetri prattled on as if he were talking about the weather and also saw fit to be personally smug about how clear the sky was.
Hawk felt his temper flare.
General Miyagi approached them with a smile. “You two know each other long time. I can tell.”
“Yes, general, we go way back.” Demetri grinned and patted Hawk on the shoulder. “Eli and I had not spoken for a year before this Christmas, I’m glad we didn’t have to wait another full year to see each other again.”
Demetri was still touching his shoulder. Why wasn’t Hawk removing his hand? From both of their bodies?
“Yes. Especially since the last party was interrupted.” Hawk found himself smiling tightly. There was no real reason to play nice in front of the general. Miyagi was only extremely technically Hawk’s superior officer, and only in the eyes of the larger military structure. His rank meant nothing in actuality, and Hawk didn’t care about being gracious to him as their host. He’d decided not to poison the man, but that didn’t mean he had to play nice with him.
Hawk should throw his drink in Demetri’s face to embarrass him in front of his commander and then go to his room. Demetri’s eyes were shining with amusement, though. Amusement and something else. Something that kept Hawk from making a scene or an exit. “Right, we never even got to dance.”
Hawk had almost forgotten that Demetri had apparently – through a proxy – asked him to dance at Christmas. He had never quite figured out why Demetri would do that and last time he’d thought about it Miguel had laughed and told him he was blushing so he hadn’t wasted any more time puzzling it out. Maybe he was just checking if he’d be willing to dance with a Miyagi fighter to gauge how angry he was going to be at him?
Demetri had, consistently, seemed to want to be close with Hawk again. Even though he was the one making that impossible by siding with the enemy and slandering the Kreese Regiment in the paper.
“You don’t like music?” The old general gestured to where someone was playing an upbeat song on the piano. “Why not dance now?”
“Yeah, Hawk why don’t we dance now? You said yes before.” Demetri challenged, half laughing. And that was true, he had agreed before. Through a proxy, without knowing who it was asking.
Hawk didn’t know how to dance. The thought of dancing with Demetri made his stomach twist uncomfortably. But he couldn’t let that challenge in Demetri’s laughing eyes go unanswered.
“Fine. Let’s dance.” Hawk held out a hand defiantly and Demetri blinked like he was surprised he’d agreed, even though he was the one issuing the challenge and he must know Hawk would never back down. Hawk saw a bit of fear - he probably didn't actually know how to dance either - flash through his eyes. Old man Miyagi chuckled warmly at them both before wandering towards the whispering lieutenants.
Demetri took Hawk’s right hand and held it awkwardly for a moment before dropping it, taking his left hand, and placing that on his own upper arm. Then he took Hawk’s right hand in his own again. Hawk allowed Demetri to arrange them while staring unimpressed into his face. “You think you’re leading?”
“Sorry, didn’t realize Kreese had been training you in dance. If you think you have a better idea of how to do this be my guest.”
Hawk did not, in fact, have any better ideas of how to do this.
“You don’t know how to dance either.”
“Eh, I have an academic understanding of how it works.” Demetri took a deep, centering, breath and Hawk wasn’t sure if he was psyching himself up or stalling.
“That doesn’t –“
All at once Demetri’s hand was on his waist and he was being pulled into a fast, bouncing, dance in a circle with other pairs. He was momentarily relieved he hadn’t challenged Demetri on who would lead because he had no idea what to do and this dance moved quite quickly. Demetri looked awkward as he tried to have them keep up, and Hawk was sure he looked terribly awkward as well as he tried to match pace with the other dancers, but he figured things would have been even worse if he also had to keep track of what direction they were supposed to turn. As it was, Demetri’s hand at his waist was guiding him mostly accurately and they only almost collided with another pair once.
“Sorry, dance novices coming through!” Demetri blurted out as they narrowly avoided the collision, his long arm wrapping a bit further around Hawk to pull him closer so he wouldn’t hit the other dancers as they passed. The flow of the circle had changed from clockwise to counterclockwise and for a moment they’d been going the wrong way.
Hawk should be mortified by this whole thing. He should be humiliated and ready to take it out on Demetri in combat. Instead, he was laughing. He tried to stop. He couldn’t. They had to do a quick turn to get back in the same pattern as the other dancers and then Demetri just spun them around another three or four times for no reason.
“That’s not how the dance goes.” Hawk criticized without any venom as they came out of the spin. His voice sounded happy to his own ears. Happier maybe than it had sounded since before the advent of zombies. Longer, probably. The hand he’d had on Demetri’s shoulder was now wound around his neck, because he’d had to hold on tighter for the spinning.
“I think we both know we were never going to get this right. I haven’t stepped on your feet yet and that alone is a miracle.” It sort of was. Demetri had gotten more coordinated while they’d been apart.
When Hawk looked Demetri in the face - a face that was very close to his - the other young man was smiling from ear to ear, dark eyes sparkling in a way that suited him. Hawk’s heart was beating fast as a rabbit’s in his chest. He wanted more. More pointless spinning to bouncy music, more of Demetri’s arm wound around him, more laughing and grinning like idiots. More…
The song stopped. Something a bit more subdued and stately started playing. Hawk and Demetri just stood there until some of the dancefloor’s other occupants made them aware they were in the way.
Reality set in as Hawk pulled away from Demetri and walked back toward the drink table. What was he doing? In front of Miguel, his other peers, and even the Lieutenant Lawrence? Surely they’d understand that he couldn’t back down from a challenge. Backing down would have been weak.
But not as weak as giggling in his enemy’s arms while they spun around like barely-coordinated lunatics.
“So, that was fun...” Demetri was trying to talk to him somewhere to his left. Hawk doesn’t trust himself to look at him.
Hawk didn’t answer him. He needed to leave before things got any worse. A hand on his wrist stopped him as he went to leave the room.
“Can I talk to you outside?”
Hawk yanked his arm away. He heard Demetri let out a sad sounding sigh.
“I’ll wait for you on the bridge where we talked this morning. If you don’t come I’ll leave you alone.”
Demetri walked away and Hawk tried to will his heart to slow down.
-
When Demetri had told Eli he wanted to talk to him outside that was honestly all he had been planning. They’d just had this amazing moment, and then Eli had seemed determined to shrug it off. He had been desperate to find a way to stop the wall between them from re-solidifying.
He'd known when they were dancing that things hadn’t always been like that between them, before. Before at parties they would commiserate over not wanting to be there and maybe snicker softly over some observational humour. His life with Eli before the rise of the dead had been one of steady reliability. He had loved his friend for all the ways he was familiar, for all the ways he’d thought he could count on him always being there. When he’d realized he was in love with him in a different sense than he’d thought he hadn’t imagined their planned future all that different aside from the nature of their relationship.
He had realized by now the future they’d imagined would never come to be. Even if the zombies were magically gone tomorrow, even if Eli quit the Kreese Regiment. They’d never have that simple, quiet, future because Eli didn’t want it. Demetri had realized after some reflecting that a quiet life like that might not satisfy him either.
But he still wanted a future with Eli. He might not know what it should look like anymore, and he knew that Eli was on a path now that didn’t lead anywhere good, but he still thought it could be possible to try. Depending on how Eli felt about him.
“Well. What do you want?” Eli stood at the bottom of the bridge, moonlight highlighting his pale face. He was beautiful. Demetri realized that he had always felt that, even if he didn’t know the exact words to put to the feeling before. He knew when they’d been at school the other boys had called him ugly and ridiculed the scar above his lip. He had privately tried to tell him they were simply insulting him for the sake of being cruel, but he didn’t have the words then he had now. He’d only been able to say they were wrong to comment on his appearance. Had that made Eli think he agreed and just thought they shouldn’t say it?
“I wasn’t sure you’d come.” Demetri smiled and shuffled to the left, trying to get Eli to come and stand with him like they'd been standing that morning. He did.
“Yeah, well, it seems like you’ve maybe gotten the wrong idea today. I’m here to set the record straight.”
“Right. I didn’t find you in some sort of crisis earlier. You’re fine. And you absolutely hated dancing with me just now. Your face was all flushed with rage.” Demetri rolled his eyes and turned to watch the moon’s reflection shimmer in the water.
Eli leaned heavily against the rail in front of them. “…I had to make a call. I made it.”
“And the dancing?”
Eli didn’t reply.
“Do you… Eli, do you hate me now?” Demetri dreaded the answer. Eli certainly seemed to hate everything to do with the Miyagi Regiment, certainly seemed to hate D’s articles, but they had been so important to each other for so long. Even if they couldn’t go back to those days, they still mattered, didn’t they?
The following moment of silence felt like an eternity to Demetri.
When Eli finally mumbled out a ‘no’ he seemed surprised by it himself.
“Good!” Demetri let out a huff of relief and felt some of the tension drain from his shoulders. He cleared his throat and tried to speak with a bit more composure. “Er. I mean. No, yeah: good. I don’t hate you either.”
“…I know.” Eli shifted uncomfortably on his feet before turning to face him. “But I’m not going back to -”
“I know. There’s no going back now.” Eli seemed surprised to hear Demetri acknowledge that. And he supposed he understood why. When they’d met at Christmas Demetri had been hoping for some way to get back what they’d had. But he’d realized that evening that what they had might not be lost. It might just need to evolve, like they had. It could still survive if they gave it a chance. “We can only go forward.”
“But, Eli, I still want us to go forward together.”
“With someone you think is ‘ready to attack at the slightest hint of criticism’?” Eli quoted his article bitterly.
“I stand by that. You have a problem.” Demetri shrugged, although he was inwardly cursing. He did stand by what he’d written, but discussing it now would not help with what he needed to ask.
“And you want us to be friends again anyways?”
“Yes.” Demetri didn’t hesitate. “I… had something else in mind too. If you’ll hear me out.”
Eli just regarded him curiously. A bit warily. He didn’t believe yet that they had a path forward together and that was terrifying. The Demetri of a year ago would have backed down, pretended he didn’t have anything else he wanted to say. The Demetri of today still knew it was better to pick your battles, but he wouldn’t cower away from something he believed in. Or something he wanted.
There was a good chance Eli was going to say no. But he had surprised him by agreeing to dance earlier. Maybe he’d surprise him again. He had to try.
Demetri stood back away from the rail of the bridge and reached for Eli’s hands. Eli narrowed his eyes.
“Please?”
Eli hesitantly turned to face him and allowed Demetri to take his hands in his. He seemed to have no idea what was coming. It all seemed so obvious to Demetri when he looked back at their relationship, but then he supposed it had taken him a long time to see it too.
He knelt down.
“No fucking way.” Eli blinked, shocked.
“You could at least let me ask first!” Demetri was himself a bit too struck by the suddenness of Eli’s words to feel the full force of the rejection.
“No, not ‘no’ as in ‘no’, ‘no’ as in ‘I can’t believe he’s actually doing this he’s mad’.” Eli explained, still seeming baffled. Demetri could work with that.
“Is that a yes then?” He smirked, mostly joking. He probably deserved the stink eye Eli shot him then.
“Listen, Eli, I already told you I want us to move forward together. And I think we can. No matter how either of us have changed, no matter how the world has changed. I believe in us, we can find a path together. We just have to make the choice. It can be as friends if that’s what you want, but I think there’s something else here too. There is for me.”
“We…the regiments…”
“I’m not saying there’s not a lot to figure out. I’m saying that I want to figure it out. Together. Eli Moskowitz, will you promise yourself to me if I promise myself to you?“
Despite knowing what he was going to ask, Eli looked at a loss for what to say. Demetri could see his thoughts rushing behind his blue eyes. It was probably a lot to process. Demetri considered telling him he could get back to him any time before the end of the summit - as much as the waiting would kill him - but then Eli opened his mouth to speak.
No words left his mouth before they were interrupted.
“There he is!” Sam was approaching up the tree-lined path behind Eli with two of the estate’s servants. Two who Demetri knew were trained fighters, even if they weren’t a formal part of the regiment.
“What’s going on?” Demetri stood, since the moment had been somewhat shattered.
“The Cobras proved how treacherous they are. They tried to poison General Miyagi!” Sam hadn’t seemed to have strong negative feelings about Cobras as individuals before. She’d become fast friends with Mr. Diaz at Christmas. She was looking at Eli now like she wanted an excuse to attack, though. Demetri could see how the near assassination of one’s grandfather could have that effect.
“What? Is he –“
“He’s alright. He saw it coming a mile away.”
“We didn’t poison your general!” Eli snapped.
“No, you failed to poison him. And now you’re all going to leave, or we’ll make you leave.”
“…Fine. This whole thing was stupid anyways.” Eli stomped off, shooting Sam a look of pure venom as he passed her.
“Wait, Eli!” Demetri tried to go after him and Sam caught his arm. He needed an answer! If Eli just said ‘yes’ he’d find a way to convince everyone he should stay. Or he’d go with him. Not to join the Kreese Regiment, ever, but he’d still follow him. Maybe they could strike out on their own. It didn’t matter. If Eli said ‘yes’ that would mean they were betrothed. They would formally, officially, belong together.
Eli didn’t answer.
“Let him go. Didn’t you write yourself that he was a lost cause?” Sam hissed out.
“I wrote that I hoped he wasn’t.”
“Look…” Something in his face seemed to ease Sam’s anger. She sighed and shook her head. “I’m sorry, but we can’t have them here now.”
Demetri felt drained. Empty. He breathed in deeply like Lieutenant LaRusso had taught him and tried not to think about what might have happened if Sam had taken just a little longer to find them.