Broken Hammers - Ch9

Friday, September 25th, 2047


Dakota wondered why he hadn't thought of this before.

“So vhat did you vant to know?

“Da, ve tell.”

Dakota couldn’t help but like the damn twins. They spoke in backwards, broken sentances with very bad English and that incredibly thick accent, but… he couldn’t help but like Sacha & Dimitre. They had been Tesla’s patients since coming to America almost two years ago, had stayed with her for a while, and were now something like family to Tesla.

Tesla’s habit of ‘adopting’ people often garnered more than she figured, anyway. She hadn’t known that the twins were psychotic until Dimitre had had an episode in her presence- and nearly 10 years of learning how to treat both the physically and mentally unwell saved the Russian from nearly strangling himself.

“Anything, really...” Dakota shrugged, leaning forward slightly. The twins did the same- Sacha resting his elbows on his knees and propping his head up on his hands, while Dimitre shifted in his chair. Dakota grinned. “…Well, my three subjects for the presentation are government, culture, and famous imports and exports.”

“Vodka.”

“Shut up, Sacha…”

Dakota snickered. “Weeeelll, what can you tell me about Russian customs? Like how your day to day lives went and how it’s different from your time in America?”

“Uh…” Dimitre reached up to brush his fingers through his hair, adjusting his headband slightly- the pale blue elastic band was pushing his bangs away from his face, as normal. “…Education and doctors are free in Russia… fazzer is, ah.... pissed... zat he has to pay for our treatment in America... ve also do not haff to pay for university in Russia…”

“Did either of you go to college?” Dakota asked, scribbling on his notepad and shifting a bit more in his chair.

Sacha grinned, exchanging a look with Dimitre. “Nyet.”

“Mm’kay…”

“…ze shopping s’ing…” Sacha spoke up after a moment. “How… you get free shoppink bags…”

“What?”

“Nyet, nyet, he is right.” Dimitre nodded. “In Russia, you haff to pay for z’ose. Like, vhen you shop… buyink food… you haff to buy shoppink bags, zey don’t provide zem like you do in America…”

“Really?” Dakota scribbled that down. “Why?”

The twin shrugged in unison.

“…ve also don’t have fun in Russia.”

“Oh, shut up, Mityusha, ve do too.”

“Vhaaat?”

“Wait, how can you guys not-”

Sacha rolled his eyes. “Havink fun… not, ah… not somesink ve say in Russia. Nor ees ze vord ‘enjoy’…” He made air quotes. “…is not Russian vord. Ve never, ah… plan fun. It just happens.”

“…That’s so weird.”

“Da.”

“Oh- and ve put much store on family.” Sacha added, looking at Dimitre, who looked back. “Vhen ve vere in Russia, ve lived vis’ mama and papa… ve also live vis our grandfazz’er, and his brozzer, and our mozzer's sister… also our cousin Anatoly... all in one flat. Vas large building, da, but, eh… our fazz’er vas not a good man. He vas not around much, and he didn’t like how Dimka and I acted. So, he, ah-”

“He ship us to America until ve are fine again.” Dimitre finished, looking unamused. Sacha shifted his arm so that it was locked with Dimitre’s at the elbow, resting his head on his hand again. “Ve not come back until long time has passed, da.”

Dakota frowned. So they’d been kicked out of their house for being crazy, how nice. “But you all lived together? As a family?”

“Da, da.”

“Da, vas crowded livink space.” Dimitre smirked. “…Ah, eight people.” He held up both hands, displaying eight fingers to indicate the number. “And one dog.”

“His name vas Albina. Stupid s’ing.”

“Is that normal?”

“No, I s’ink most dogs are intellige-”

“He means livink vis’ eight people, stupid."

“Eehhh, don’t be angry vis’ me for being confused! And don’t call me zat…”

“Vell, don’t act like it.”

“Nh…”

Sacha abruptly unhooked their arms and folded his own, scowling. “Vatever. Continue, Dakuska, pahzalsta.”

Dakuska- it was a nickname that had been spawned from the customary Russian way of saying names, combined with his own name. "...Um..." He paused. "...Imports and exports? Know anything about 'em?"

"...Vodka."

"Shut -up-, Aleks."

Sacha whined and shielded himself from his brother again as Dimka idly smacked him on a very broad shoulder. It was odd, how Sacha could be 21, 6'3" and well over 200 pounds, have the body of a Russian Adonis and hands that could probably crush bone if required to, and still shy away from his brother like Dimitre was dangerous.

Dimitre, on the other hand, was about two inches shorter than Sacha and much less muscular, he looked more streamlined than his twin and had a much more elegant and refined way about him. Despite this (and the fact that he was the significantly crazier twin) he seemed to be the more domaneering of the two brothers.

"And don't call me Aleks, I hate zat name..." Sacha murmured, looking away. "It sounds so dumb..." It had taken Dakota quite a long time before he realized that Sacha's name was actually a shortened form of Aleksandr, which was what it read on his birth certificate. Aleksandr Nikolaivich Bardzeki, which was a name that reeked of ethnicity.

"I feel like I haff to call you zat vhen you are beink dumb zen."

Sacha gave Dimitre a hurt look, and his brother seemed to soften. Dakota watched with mild interest as Dimitre re-interlocked their arms, pressing the back of his hand into Sacha's slightly open palm. A brief conversation in Russian, and then it seemed like all was normal again.

"...He's right." Dimitre tossed his head slightly, using his free hand to brush some loose hair away. "Vodka is a huge export... ah... probably weapons... actually, probably a lot of heavy artil... ah... art..."

"Artillery." Sacha provided. "Ve export many veapons to ze ozz'er countries... is easier vay of-"

Dakota gasped as a hand clamped over his mouth from behind and immediately leaned his head back (pillowed by a pair of ample breasts that he wished didn't belong to his adoptive mother) and looked up into Tesla's one-eyed gaze. "...Hi sweetie."

"...Hnhh." Dakota offered, raising both eyebrows. She chuckled and released his mouth. He wrinkled his nose but scoot down the couch as she took a seat next to him, taking the notebook from him and flipping through it interestedly. "You've got so good at writing with your left hand." Tesla murmured, nodding approvingly. "Only took you a year." She giggled and pressed the book back into his hands, and he held it to his chest.

"Privjet, doctor." Dimitre nodded, Sacha copying him. "You are vell, da?"

"Of course I am, Dimka." Tesla smiled. "How're you?"

"Cannot complain." In Dimitre's accent, the word had left his mouth as 'kyannot'. "I haff been vorse." He gave an odd, wan smile.

"Sacha?"

"Am also fine."

"So." Tesla reached up to undo her bun, allowing her blonde hair to spill down her back. "I come into my house in the middle of an interrogation?" She gave Dakota a teasing smile, which he managed to smile at.

"Noooo, mom... they offered to help me with my project..." Dakota sucked on his pencil lead, which tasted foul. "So that's what we're doing." Tesla got up and crossed the room into the kitchen, turning on the light.

"It's so dark in here... where's the dog?"

"Outside."

"Has he been out there all day?"

"I'uhoh."

Tesla gave Dakota a look before opening the sliding glass door that opened into their spansive backyard. Barghest immediately scrambled through the opening as she was pulling it open and plodded across the room eagerly, or as eager as a 100 pound mastiff could manage. It sought out its master almost at once- almost, stopping to sniff eagerly at Sacha's hands (the Russian scratched both of Barghest's ears affectionately, the dog grunted happily in response) before wriggling between Sacha and Dimitre to get onto the couch next to Dakota and taking Tesla's abandoned seat.

Dakota switched positions to lay on the couch, using Barghest's rump as a pillow. "Miss me, buddy?" He asked the dog, who favored him with a slobber-filled lick to the cheek and ear. Dakota moaned in disgust before wiping his ear. "...Sorry... ugh, what were you saying earlier, Sacha? You never finished?"

"...Completely forgotten." Sacha said airily, leaning back in his chair and smiling. "Somesink about vodka?"

Dakota shut his eyes for a moment and idly hit himself in the head with his notebook. "Mh... I dunno. I'm tired."

"Is late." Dimitre checked his watch. "Vere you just gettink off of duty, doctor?"

"No, I've been on the phone for a while with a colleague..." Tesla perched on the arm of the couch. Barghest put his massive head in her lap, and she scratched his ears idly. "I got off duty at 10, so..." She looked at her watch. "...that was almost an hour ago. Goodness."

"A colleague?"

"Mhm. He's a robotics scientist in Conneticut... Dustin Pennant." Tesla smiled. "So-" She looked at Sacha and Dimitre. "You two are staying the night then?"

Dakota shut his eyes and stopped listening. His interest in the project dwindled from the point that Tesla had entered the room, now it was completely gone. He reached up and pressed a hand to his eyes (one of which was no longer indigo, but was more or less mildly sore when he touched it) with a soft groan. He was hungry, tired, and wanted to go to bed. Obviously, he couldn't solve all three, so he chose for the latter and sat up. "I'm going to bed... thanks for the help, guys." He nodded at both Sacha and Dimitre, who nodded back in unison.

"'night mom." He murmured as he passed Tesla. Barghest slid off of the couch and padded after him.

"Goodnight honey. Do me a favor and poke in on Kiz for me when you go by?"

"Yeah sure." Dakota said over his shoulder, trying to stifle a yawn. He looked down at Barghest, who didn't look up (as expected) as he trailed down the hallway- he paused as instructed and cracked open his sister's door. Kizzy was sound-asleep, or so it appeared, her orange hair spilling all behind her on her pillow. He smirked and shut the door before opening his own, watching as Barghest flumped onto the bed before him.

Dakota took his phone out of his pocket and hesitated, staring at it. Sheer impulse took over and he flipped the keyboard open, hurriedly setting a contact without looking and then typing, 'guess who just got a huge ton of info for our project?' and sending, tossing his phone onto his bed. He stripped out of his sweatshirt and tugged at the wifebeater underneath, unsticking it from his stitches (which he touched absentmindedly). He was in the process of taking his jeans off when he heard his phone vibrate. He immediately flipped it open to read.

'you did? '

He grinned.

'you betcha. thank god I know foreign people amirite?'

Dakota kicked out of his jeans, leaving his boxers on before wriggling under the blankets, rolling the dog over (Barghest moaned in agitation) before looking at his phone expectantly. It vibrated a moment later.

'yes. Im thankful for that.'

'me too. Goodnight Lorelai!'

He waited again, feeling his heart pound.

'Goodnight Kody <3<3 '

Dakota relaxed, his breath escaping him in a soft, contented sigh as a grin spread across his face. He set his phone down on his nightstand and curled up, one arm around his dog. Yes, those two little emoticon hearts were enough to make his weekend- that was for sure.