bratri_ve_zbrani | Fic: My father's father craves the earth

Title: My father's father craves the earth - Part III

Rating: PG-13

Pairings: Vladimir Sobotka/Blake Wheeler

Disclaimer: Never happened.

Note: A kink meme just ran away from me. It's a full blown fic now and I make no apologies. Any suggestions, criticisms - even ones that sting - are totally welcome. I probably need it. Also, Blake Wheeler and Vladimir Růžička, Jr. resemble each other somewhat, they're about the same height and weight.

"You never told me you had a brother," Blake says over lunch, sipping at his water.

Vladi casts a look at David, "You told him."

"He asked. I had to," David says innocently.

"Whoa, English, please."

"Traitor," Vladi murmurs, to which David only rolls his eyes.

"Vladi, come on," Blake says. He has a gist of what Vladi must be upset about, "I just want to know why you didn't tell me about having a brother."

"Why? It's not important."

"What? Family is a big deal. It's probably the biggest deal there is."

"Not like I'll ever meet yours," he mutters in Czech, prompting Blake to look to David for translation.

"He says it's not like he's ever going to meet your family."

"What?" Blake straightened in his seat, looking a bit indignant, "You've met my family before."

"I don't think that's he meant," David adds helpfully, which earns him a glare from his friend.

"Is that what this is about, Vladi?" He asks, because they've discussed this, the need to be discreet, and it had been Vladi's idea to keep it under wraps even though Blake had wanted to tell his family if no one else, just so they'd stop bugging him about bringing a girl home.

Vladi shakes his head. He doesn't want to discuss this, not when just thinking about it is giving him a headache like no other, and Jesus, even his stomach's acting up.

"No," he glares at his salad accusingly, "no. I just, I do not like my brother."

"Well, yeah, I mean, everyone has problems with their siblings sometimes."

"That's not what he meant either," David intervenes again.

"Won't you just shut up?" Vladi snaps.

Blake blinks, brows climbing slowly. In all the years he'd known Vladi, granted it's only been a few, he's never seen him like this, strung tighter than 100 flex stick, just waiting to snap at the wrong moment. Something has to be really wrong for him to get like this.

"You should tell him," David says quietly. He has this discussion often with Vladi. Out of concern because keeping certain secrets could burrow a hole over the years, a cavity that grew with age.

"Tell him what? There's nothing to tell."

"He's going to pester you until you tell him something, and you suck at lying, so…"

"Yeah, thanks for that," Vladi says with utter sarcasm, "You're a great help."

"I'm just saying."

"Fuck, forget it. I'm going to go take my nap." He tosses the napkin on the table, his chair scraping loudly against the floor.

"Dude, where're you going?"

"Nap," he announces, then turns before he leaves, putting his palms down on the table before David, "not a word, David."

"I'll tell him if you don't."

"You wouldn't."

"I'm completely serious."

Vladi's eyes flicker back to Blake, who has a very unimpressed expression about the whole thing, irritation coming off him in ugly vibes. It's going to be an awkward affair in the hotel room. "I don't believe this."

"I should be saying so. You've been doing this for God knows how long."

"Who asked you for advice?"

"I'm your friend, Vlad'a. This is what a friend does."

It's true. David has been a good friend to him, giving him that anchor to home he so desperately misses during the season. It's unfair that he should be take the brunt of Vladi's hidden resentment like this, just because Vladi doesn't have to nerve to shove it where it really belongs, up his not-father's anus.

He pushes himself off the table, "Blake, I'll see you back at the hotel."

David smirks at the what the hell expression on Blake, "finish your food, Blake."

"You guys can't do that," he whines, sensing that something has passed between his two Czech teammates, an agreement, an impasse. He's not too sure, but something, "It's not fair."

"Like I said, finish your food," David looks up at Vladi, "I'm expecting you to keep your end of the deal."

"More like blackmail."

"Call it what you will," he says, reaching out to take Vladi's hand to give it a gentle squeeze. It's an oddly intimate gesture, a reminder of what he and Vladi used to be, what they shared before Blake-and-Vladi was. "But he needs to know."

David is usually right about these kinds of things, so Vladi only nods before making his way out of the restaurant.

---------------------------------

The latch to the hotel door clicks just as he's dozing off to his pre-game nap.

"Vladi?" Blake calls out hesitantly, "You awake, buddy?"

He heaves a heavy sigh to indicate that yes, he's awake, and no, he's not pleased about it. He's always subscribed to the belief that sleep and ignorance can be a good remedy, and the fact that Blake is an impediment to both is more frustrating than he has words for.

"Yes."

"Oh, great, okay," he smiles sheepishly at Vladi, like he's just sorry, "I didn't want to wake you."

"No, it's fine." He's nervous, actually. Very nervous, but he sits up in the bed, shoving the other pillow behind his back and pulling his feet up to sit Indian style.

He watches Blake move about the room, shedding his shoes and jeans and reaching in the mini fridge for a bottle of water, something Vladi still can't bring himself to do without feeling a twinge of guilt.

"David said…"

"I know," he nods, "I know what he said."

"He means well, you know."

"I do."

"So," Blake says, half sitting on the bed with one leg folded and the other hanging off the side with foot flat on the carpet. He smiles in what is supposed to be a reassuring, non-threatening way.

Vladi's stomach just turns another 360 degrees; apparently Cirque-du-Soleil has decided to take up residence in his gut, queasy and strange like the show he went to the last time they stopped by the Garden on tour.

"That was your brother at the rink?"

"Lukas."

"That's his name?"

Vladi traced the seams of the comforter with his thumb, straightening out wrinkles nervously. He inhaled deeply, held his breath before letting out in a heave, trying to calm his heart, which was beating so heard it felt like it was vibrating in his chest. "Yes."

"You don't get along," Blake states bluntly.

"That would be… understatement."

Blake ached to see him like this, looking dejected and lonely and so fucking sad, like he'd been split a million different ways, "Hey, it's not your fault."

"He does not know."

"Know what?"

"Why I left. Why my grandfather raised me."

"Well, I don't know either," Blake says, reaching out to take Vladi's hands and folding them into his.

They speak in gestures like this often when words fail, when the language barrier seems to high and daunting to surmount. "I lived with my family in Trebic until I was eight years old, but… we had an accident. Lukas, he… fell through ice on frozen pond. Father was… angry. Very angry."

"Okay," he says carefully. Accidents like that happened. He's been through a few similar.

"He said… he said that I he would have killed me if Lukas had died, if a bastard killed his son, and I did not understand." His eyes flicker back up to Blake's before falling again, "I didn't understand. What he meant. But he sent me to my grandfather's after that to… to protect Lukas, he said."

"For an accident?" That was just messed up.

"We are not brothers, Blake," he says, which seems like the strangest thing to say. Blake caught a glimpse of Vladi's brother and they had looked so much alike that he'd done a double take.

"I'm not sure I follow."

"It's our mother."

What? What did Vladi's mom have anything to…

But… oh.

Oh.

Well, shit.

That… kind of made sense. But still…

"You seem shocked."

"No. I mean, yeah," he admits, "I am. A little bit."

Vladi looks crestfallen at this, his shoulders slumping as if they could fall any lower. "Hey, hey, no. It's not your fault. None of this is," Blake cooed, gathering Vladi into his arms, feeling kind of like an asshole. Leave it to him to be insensitive at the wrong time.

Vladi clutched at his shirt, and Jesus, he'd held his sister through her crying fits but it never broke his heart like this.

"I'm guessing that's why you don't get along," he says, wincing at his own choice of words.

Smooth, Blake, real smooth.

"He doesn't know."

"He doesn't…" he pulls back, clutching Vladi by the shoulders, "he doesn’t know? How does fuck he not know?" Talk about family secrets, Jesus H. Christ, this was fucked up.

"Nobody said."

Yeah, he can see the dilemma here.

"Your parents? Relatives?"

Vladi snorts in derision, "Not something they'd want their son to know."

"So, what, they just… threw you out?"

"My grandfather took me."

"Your grandfather."

"My father's father."

"Weird. Sorry, it's just, you know."

It is weird, considering they weren't even related by blood. "He's a good person. Generous. I think he liked me for hockey."

"Yeah?"

Vladi nods, the first smile of the day hinting at his lips, "I think he liked having a grandson he could…"

"Be proud of?" Blake offers, cupping Vladi's cheeks and kissing him chastely. He lays his forehead against Vladi's, "Anyone would be lucky to know you, Vladi. Don't you forget that."

He could feel Vladi's quiet laugh by the puff of warm, moist air against his mouth, minty from the toothpaste.

"I mean it, okay?"

"Okay."

"Get some sleep. I'll set the alarm."