"So." Sasha's voice is measured, controlled. "I saw you in town today. Outside the general store." He takes a sip of his hot chocolate, his eyes never leaving Danil's face. "What were you doing there?"
Danil sets his mug on the coffee table carefully. "Looking for you."
"For me." Sasha's fingers tighten on my shoulder. "And how, exactly, do you know me?"
"We've known each other a long time." Danil's voice is gentle, like he's talking to someone who might bolt. "Since we were kids."
Sasha's jaw sets, and I feel the tension radiating through his body. The muscles in his chest are rigid beneath his shirt. "How do I know you're telling the truth? How do I know you're not the one who put a bullet in me?"
The words hang in the air like a grenade. Danil's face goes pale, then red. "Someone shot you?"
"You tell me." Sasha leans forward, and his arm drops from my shoulders. "You're the one who showed up at my door claiming to know me."
"Jesus Christ, Alek… er, Sasha." Danil runs both hands through his hair, and I see his hands are shaking. "I've been looking for you for weeks, not knowing if you were alive or dead. And you think I'm the one who hurt you?"
Something flickers across Sasha's face. Surprise. Maybe a hint of recognition. But the wariness doesn't leave his eyes. "Maybe you've been looking for me to make sure I'm dead or finish the job if I'm alive.”
Danil stands abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. He paces to the window, stares out at the swirling snow, then turns back. His face is a mask of barely controlled emotion. "If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead. I wouldn't drive through a blizzard to have hot chocolate in front of a fireplace first."
"Then why are you here?" Sasha's voice is hard, uncompromising. "What do you want from me?"
"I want my best friend back." The words come out raw, honest. "I want to know what the hell happened to you. You disappeared. No word, no trace, nothing. People have been…" He stops himself, choosing his words carefully. "People have been worried."
"What people?" Sasha presses. "Who am I to them?"
"Someone important." Danil moves back toward the fireplace, but he doesn't sit. He's restless energy contained in muscle and tension. "Someone with responsibilities. People who depend on you."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one I can give you right now." Danil's eyes meet Sasha's, and there's pain there. Real pain. "You need to remember on your own. If I tell you everything, it could… it could make things worse."
Sasha stares at him, and I watch something shift in his expression. A crack in the armor. "I don't remember you," he says quietly. "But when I look at you, I feel… something. Like I should know you."
"You do know me." Danil's voice softens. "We've known each other since we were twelve. You saved my ass more times than I can count, and I've saved yours."
"Tell me something." Sasha leans back against the couch, but his body is still coiled tight. "Something only you would know."
Danil thinks for a moment, then a small smile crosses his face. "You have a scar on your ribs. Left side. You got it when you were sixteen, trying to climb a fence to impress a girl. Tore yourself open on the barbed wire, and I had to half-carry you to get stitches. You told the doctor you fell off your bike."
Sasha's hand moves unconsciously to his left side, pressing against his ribs through his shirt. His eyes widen slightly. "There is a scar there."
"I know." Danil's smile is sad. "I was there when you got it."
The room falls silent except for the crackle of the fire. I watch Sasha's face, see him struggling with fragments of memory that won't quite surface.
Danil's eyes drift to me again, and this time, the look lingers. He's studying my face, my hair, the way I'm sitting. His browfurrows slightly, like he's trying to place me in a context that doesn't quite fit.
Sasha notices immediately. His hand finds my thigh, possessive and warm through the fabric of my jeans. "Why do you keep looking at her like that?"
"Sorry." Danil shakes his head, but his eyes don't leave my face. "You just seem familiar somehow. Have we met before?"
"No." The lie comes easily, but my heart is hammering. "I'd remember."
"Maybe." He tilts his head, still studying me. "It's just… something about you."
Sasha's hand tightens on my thigh, and he shifts closer to me on the couch. The movement is subtle but deliberate, his body angling between me and Danil. "She found me half-frozen and took me in. That's all you need to know."
"Lucky coincidence." Danil's tone is neutral, but I hear the question underneath.
