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Part 7

As had become par for the course, the start of another week of work-based tedium accompanied Tuesday's arrival. Erik stacked shelf after shelf, day after day with little to no praise for his efforts. By the time he'd fought on through to Saturday evening, the prospect of another two days of freedom came as a blessing. He could rest, recuperate, and fill his time with something more meaningful and beneficial. Like sleeping.

"Can't wait to get home," Erik rumbled to himself, practically falling through the doorway of the staff locker room. "To sit down and relax." With heavy, dragging paws, he lumbered further inside, jaw dropping at what greeted him.

Scattered across the floor tiling sat his belongings, clearly hurled there in a fit of rage by whoever had left his locker a smashed, crumpled mess.

"What the hell!?" Weariness fading, Erik hurried across the room to closer examine the scene. The door had been bashed completely out of shape; barely left attached to its hinges. In his head, he thanked the stars that he always kept his wallet and other valuables on his person, leaving just his clothes and backpack to be dragged out into a heap on the floor.

"Gods damn it!" That didn't stop him heaving the locker closed with an almighty metallic clatter. "Who did this to my stuff!?"

He threw a paw to his forehead, trying to cool his simmering temper with the knowledge that nothing appeared to be missing.

A squeak from the doorway ended the short-lived silence. Footsteps followed, stopping the moment Erik whipped his head around towards their origin.

"Huh?" Viktor's eyes widened with shock, the rest of him left statuesque by the piercing glare that greeted him.

"Did you enjoy it?"

His shock became confusion, delaying his reply while his brow furrowed. "W-What?"

"You heard," Erik snarled. "Did breaking my locker make you feel good?"

"What are you talking about?" Viktor scoffed, attention drifting as he scanned the rest of the room. "You do not speak to me for weeks, and when you do, you talk nonsense... Leave me alone--"

"Was it some kind of revenge? Didn't you like hearing--?"

"Do not be so thick!" The elk bellowed, snorting loudly. "Why not take a look around you!?"

Erik's turn to be stunned silent, watching Viktor stomp over to his own locker and his own belongings, broken and discarded just like those around them.

He scanned the room himself, seeing just how many of the other lockers, in no particular pattern, had been left in a similar condition or worse. His fur prickled and his muzzle twisted with a tight grimace, now realising how blinkered he'd been.

"H-Hey, Vik--"

"What the fuck happened here!?"

Both Erik and Viktor turned to the scowling wolf behind them, hurling the locker room door closed as he entered. Erik recognised him from the meat counter, but couldn't place the name.

"I do not know," Viktor grumbled, kneeling to gather up his clothes. "I am thinking you are also in our position?"

"Yes." Their colleague stomped between them, growling all the way to the group of lockers against the wall to Erik's right. He snatched up a bag and coat, lying at the foot of a locker that had received some of the worst damage there. "It looks like they'll let any fucking psycho work here these days."

"Tell me about it."

Erik could have sworn Viktor flashed him a glare as he replied. Regardless, he'd already dropped himself into a deep enough hole, and had no wish to dig any deeper by reacting.

"I'm going to report this... see if they're on camera or something." The grey wolf marched back across the room, heaving the door open before charging out with a snarl.

"Vik..." Erik shuffled on his feet, watching the elk stand back up with belongings in hand. "I... Sorry--"

"I have no wish to hear your apology." He fired a glare that rivaled Erik's own from just moments earlier. "You really think so little of me?"

"I... just--"

"I do not think I will change out of my clothes." Viktor slipped on his jacket, following their lupine coworker's lead in marching off towards the exit. "I shall head home just as I am."

"Vik, wait..." With a creak and a thud of the door, Erik found himself alone again, standing amid the deafeningly silent chaos.

While winter's chilling winds and fierce snowstorms had been left behind for another year, it didn't stop several springtime showers overnight and onwards from descending. In all honesty, the complete washout that was Sunday suited Erik down to the ground. He enjoyed the quiet time in his room, dulling his senses with a few hours of computer gaming while rain rattled relentless against his window. Plus, with the forecast that evening suggesting Monday would end up a good deal brighter, Erik happily settled on leaving more strenuous, outdoors activities for then.

Gentle chatter sounded from the television as Erik headed downstairs and into the living room, some form of documentary holding the attention of his mother on the couch ahead of him. Pieter and Karin sat silently alongside her on the middle cushion, equally engrossed while sipping tea from a pair of thimbles serving as makeshift cups.

"Hey, Erik," Pieter called from his seat. "What are you grinning at?"

"Oh... nothing," he snickered back.

"Finally escaped from your room I see."

"Yeah," Erik continued past the coffee table where Thijs and Anika sat silent in their studies. "It's not as if there are many other places to go on a rainy Sunday."

"Leave him alone," Karin ordered, smiling brightly. "You've done little more than watch TV yourself."

"I know, I know." Pieter smirked, holding up his paws. "He knows I'm playing."

"There is always tomorrow," Erik's mother suggested.

"That's true, and that's also what I've been thinking about." Erik took a careful seat at the opposite end of the sofa, leaving their guests settled between them. "Maybe we could all do something in the city while Thijs and Anika are at school?"

"Oh... that does sound nice," she replied, her face losing a hint of its sparkle. "Sadly, I work tomorrow until the afternoon."

"And I'll be going, too."

Erik lowered his eyes to Karin, the apparent recipient of that fading brightness. "To work?"

"To help out, yes." Her slender tail flicked atop the cushion's fabric. "I'm looking forward to it!"

"Temporary work," his mother explained. "There is a new opening in Polcian section of office. Only... what is word in Polcian... type work?"

"Data entry?"

"Ah, yes, Erik. It is not the best of work, but still it must be done. I made suggestion to my boss last week, he accepted and Karin will now be working with me for as long as she wishes." She peered down to her newest colleague, rediscovering her own glow. "I know how much you have wished to do something during the week, outside of our home."

"Absolutely. Thank you so much again!" "This is the first I've heard of it," Erik murmured, scratching at his cheek. "When was this arranged, Ma?"

"I had confirmation yesterday, after I worked in the morning. You seemed not to be happy after you got home from work, and... I am thinking this is the longest I have seen you since then."

"You're probably right." His shoulders sagged at the memory of his arrival home last night, storming straight up to his room without so much as a word to anyone. Still, it couldn't weigh him down completely, not with the contentment all around him. "That's great news, Karin. Congratulations."

"Thanks!"

"I guess that leaves just you and me, Piet. What do you think?"

"Sounds good to me," Pieter replied, skinny tail flicking atop the cushion. "Did you have anything in mind?"

"Well..." Erik's eyes started to wander in his search for an idea. They didn't take long to settle on Thijs and Anika, still wrapped up in their tiny textbooks. "It's not much, but maybe we could go into the city for a little while in the afternoon. Grab a coffee and something to eat perhaps. After that, we can collect these two from the central station after school and bring them back home." He spotted little Thijs' ears perk at that, even if his eyes remained transfixed upon his homework. "It'd save them having to deal with the Polcian section of the connecting train home. Plus, if Karin and my mother are working, we'd need to wait around and collect them from the local station anyway."

Pieter stroked at his chin, following up with a keen nod. "Alright! It'd be good to get outside if the weather is going to allow it." He twisted to face the youngsters atop the coffee table. "What do you two think? Does a journey home from the station with me and Erik sound good?"

"Yeah!" Thijs called, almost tossing his book from his paws. "Hate pushin' past the crowd at hometime. Stupid underground walkways."

"Fine," Anika muttered, balancing out her brother. "I guess your backpack is a little better than an overcrowded train carriage.

"It's settled then." Pieter peered back up at Erik. "A lazy day in town to follow a lazy day at home. Perfect."

For such a throwaway statement, that last comment proved far more prophetic than Pieter could have possibly intended. He accompanied Erik into the city centre a little after noon the next day; perfect timing to grab a hot drink and fresh sandwich from a small coffee shop situated close to the city's main train station.

While far from an action-packed excursion, the opportunity to kick back and shoot the breeze over work, family and life in general came welcomed. So much so that they settled in for the long haul, chatting away while watching the world go by. Dozens of people in smart suits came and went, sitting at the surrounding tables to get their recharge before scurrying back off to rejoin the rat race. Traffic crawled past the shop's wide window front, flowing like a stream of metal through the brick and glass embankments provided by the buildings either side. Erik could breathe easily here; forgotten to the everyday bustle that persisted without end beyond that single pane of glass.

"Erik? Hey, Erik, do you want to head to the station in a moment?"

"Huh?" He glanced down to the tabletop, meeting Pieter's gaze from beside the empty red cup that had contained his latte. "Sorry?"

"Wow, you were a million miles away there!"

"Must have been," he chuckled, rubbing his eyes quickly. "I thought coffee was supposed to perk you up."

"Guess you got a bad batch," Pieter retorted, dropping his own tiny version of the shop's cardboard cups over the lip of Erik's. "I was just saying that the train from the Polcian district will be arriving in about half an hour."

Erik checked the clock hanging above the barista fox's head, pointing out the time as a quarter to three. "Right... I guess we should head off then." He scooped Pieter up in his paws, stowing him in his backpack before starting towards the cafe's door. "I hope you enjoyed today, even if we only sat here drinking and chatting."

"I did," Pieter called back, voice partially muffled by the fabric of the half-closed pocket holding him. "A change of scene is never a bad thing in my book--"

The blaring sirens and flashing blue lights rushing past cut their conversation short as they exited out into the brisk city air. Fellow pedestrians hesitated in their steps, while the flow of traffic stalled until the three-strong convoy of police cars had sped on by.

"Loud."

"More than a little," Pieter answered, poking his head out from the pocket. "Wonder where they're heading?"

Erik shrugged, following the ruckus down the street. "Looks like a big deal, whatever it is."

Passing through the grand station building's side entrance, they traversed the sprawling interior hall towards the ticket barriers. The huge, historic central clock hung from the iron rafters, informing Erik they'd arrived here a little before three.

"Plenty of time," he stated, settling upon one of the many rows of wooden waiting benches. The barriers remained to his right, with the busy main entrance of the station adjacent to them on the left. "Their train doesn't get in until three-fifteen, right?"

"About that," Pieter confirmed, climbing out from the backpack and into Erik's waiting paws. "It only takes a few minutes for the bullet train to get here from the district."

"I'd love to see it pull in here; a small, super-modern train surrounded by bigger... not-so-new ones."

"It's underground all the way from the district I'm afraid, Erik," he chuckled, gesturing towards the line of ticket gates. "We won't see the kids until they're at the meeting point."

Erik narrowed his eyes, spying the small, barriered platform tucked away between the last gate in line and an information kiosk. It sat connected to an entranceway, rising from beneath the station proper. "I've never spotted that before."

"Not a surprise. I'm sure most people aren't really exploring the area when heading through the ticket barriers."

"Good point." Erik took that as a cue to let his senses wander, taking in the sights and sounds of the bustling station hall. Commuters slalomed around one another, focused upon reaching their destinations with varying levels of urgency. The constant murmur of footsteps, conversation and station announcements helped created an atmosphere almost the mirror of that at the restful coffee shop.

Amid the crowds, a small gathering of people stood in wait, appearing far less keen on travelling. They hovered around the main entrance's grandiose stone archway, chatting among themselves while drawing the attention of a few passersby.

"Are they holding... signs, Erik?"

"You've seen them too?"

"Yep. I've seen the two police officers hanging around nearby, also."

Erik peered deeper into the sea of commuters, soon spotting a bull and a tigress dressed in typical beat police uniform. "Good eyes."

"After a few months living around Velikans, you have to be on your toes." Pieter snickered gently before adding, "Just in case they're not paying as much attention to their surroundings as you, y'know?"

"Right." Erik gave a wry smile, still focused upon the gathering across the hall.

"So, what do those signs say? I have to admit... my Velikan is still not that great."

'Polcians go home.'

'Velikan jobs for Velikan people.'

'Vote VPU. Vote Velika.'

"Erik?"

"It... looks to be a protest," he answered mutedly.

"I figured that much." Pieter looked away, gulping hard. "I assume I know what about."

"I don't know why here... now."

"The President's pre-election tour... I saw on the news that he's due here next week."

"I didn't know." Erik kept his gaze fixed upon the group. "I only knew that he was in Sokolka last week... I haven't been paying as much attention as I could have to this lately."

"It makes sense." Pieter's long, rumbling sigh grabbed back his complete focus. "If they protest now in busy places like this and keep it up until he arrives next week, they'll get a lot more exposure than normal."

"I guess." Erik's paws slowly moved to settle Pieter atop the bench, keeping one of them behind him to form a white-furred shield. "Let's try not to focus on them. We'll wait here for a few minutes, get Thijs and Anika and head home."

With Pieter nestled between Erik's paws, as well as his leg and backpack on either side, they managed to forget about the protesters' physical presence for the most part. What couldn't be shaken so easily was the idea that something like that had come to be.

"I wonder how long it'll take before Polcians start going home in numbers," Pieter muttered, hunching over while idly running his paw along the wood graining beneath him. "I wonder if it'll get worse than this."

"Hopefully not." Erik, too, began rubbing the rough surface he sat upon, tracing Pieter's movement with a finger. "I wonder what it would mean for those that have been here a long time."

"The ones that moved here first?"

"Well... yes, but those that were born here, also. They practically... they are Velikan."

"Are there many? I... didn't know there were these days."

"Not so many in Kremensk, but in other places like the capital, Zelengorod, they say there are more than you might think."

"Didn't know that."

"It's true. I've never been, but I've heard there are neighbourhoods where things are almost like they were before the war." Erik tapped a half-exposed claw against the wood, prompting Pieter to peer upwards. "Sometimes, I just wish people would realise we're all the same, except... a little different in size."

"It would be nice... on both sides." A Polcian-sized smile began to spread, but faded as Pieter shifted in his seat and turned away. "Erik... Can I ask you something?"

"We've been speaking for most of the afternoon, so I'd say you definitely can."

He hacked out a laugh, wringing his paws. "Okay... It's something I've been wondering about for a while, but... please excuse me if it's none of my business and you'd prefer not to speak of it..."

"What would you like to ask?"

The dull chatter and constant footsteps within the station seemed to louden, stark in contrast to Pieter and Erik sat at its centre.

"I have been wondering... about your brother." A cold tingle touched every strand of Erik's fur, though he remained quiet. "What happened to him to end up in prison?"

He rubbed hard at the back of his neck, eyes searching all around.

"You see... I only ask because you and your mother are sad for him, obviously... but... he's never called. You haven't visited him, as far as I know."

Erik stared up at the long row of electronic calling boards, hanging from the rafters where the station's hall and platforms met. A digital clock shone from its centre, each second passing a minute at a time.

"I'm sorry. I-I... shouldn't have mentioned it. It's not my place. None of my business."

"It's okay." He took a deep, measured breath. "I know now where Thijs gets his curiosity from."

"Karin says much the same." Pieter gave a short, close mouthed chuckle, adding, "You don't have to talk about it, if you don't want--"

"I want to. I want to speak of this because... I haven't had the chance to before now." Erik clasped his trembling paws. "I haven't had... No-one has really asked me about it."

"Well, I'm asking now, Erik. Speak your mind."

Another long, drawn out breath. "Do you remember what I said to you about causing problems for Polcians in the past? About being forced into it?"

"I do."

"Do you also remember me speaking about the Polcian from Linvendia I met last year? When he visited my friend?"

"You did. The one with an accent a little different to mine." Pieter managed a split-second smile. "Is... this... going where I think it's going?"

"I think, yes." Erik's tightened the grasp of his paws, breathing slowly. "The problem I caused... was that I helped my brother to abduct him from the shop I used to work at... You see, the friend he was visiting was Alex, the same friend I used to work for."

"...I see."

Erik looked deep into those dark, ferret eyes gazing off to nowhere, certain of the frantic processing that surely belied such a composed exterior. Pieter hated him now, he knew it. Now that the truth was out, there was no way he couldn't.

"I had... no idea," Pieter muffled, stumbling around his words. "Why would you want to do this?"

"I didn't want to." Erik winced with pain, keeping his eyes anywhere but downwards. "You see... by that time, Yuri hated Polcians so much..."

"I'm sorry, Erik. I don't follow."

He slumped back in his seat, hiding behind the paw he brought up to his brow. Revealing only small insights into the troubles he'd faced, if not glossing over them completely, had become almost second nature in recent years.

Despite how effective he'd become at burying things with silence, for the first time in a long while something felt different. On this day, not only did Erik sense he'd be unable to keep from spilling his thoughts, he sensed that he needed to. He needed to share with Pieter the things he'd been through. He needed to do something in the hope that it might offer the chance to move past them.

"It's fine, Erik... We don't have to speak about private things like this--"

"No... wait." Erik moved the paw from his face, leading Pieter to turn away. On top of everything else, he knew that failing to reveal the full story could cost him this friendship, too. "You see... Yuri, he blamed the Polcians coming here for many of the problems he-- we faced. He blamed them for not being able to find work in years, for having no money and for having no future. He blamed them for our father turning to drink and becoming abusive to us for those same reasons... for walking out on us and never coming back."

That piqued Pieter's curiosity enough to at least win back his eyeline.

"Yuri started on a downward path after that... He just couldn't cope at all. It wasn't too long before he fell in with a bad crowd." Erik looked up, gesturing towards the sizable group of protesters still massing around the entrance, placards displayed for all to see. "He made friends with people he met who followed that damned VPU party; people that hated Polcians as much as him. By that point, he already wasn't home often. He'd disappear for days, weeks to get up to gods know what, only coming back to ask for, or to just take money until he left for good." Erik's voice had begun trembling, but still he pressed on. "In time... he became so violent and would almost always be drunk. We'd often hear rumours from people who loved the gossip, telling us the things he and his friends had been involved in. They told us of arguments, fights at bars or on the streets... even robberies if some of the tales are to be believed. In the end, looking back, he was a different person... He wasn't my brother any more." Erik forced the emotion gathering in his throat down with a determined swallow. "I-If we'd ever confronted him... crossed him, I truly fear what he might have done to me... my mother."

Pieter's little paws sat still within his lap, eyes far softer now. "It sounds like you've had such a... truly difficult time. I had no idea."

"How could you?" Erik's lips flicked with a brief, fragile smile. "Yes, it made for very difficult, dark times... so much that it was hard to be at home. I'd work seven days a week sometimes not because I loved my job, which I did but... mostly because I hated to be there. I hated to see my mother worry, to hear her shout at, or about the people that would tell her the rumours about Yuri."

"I think any parent would."

"Even so... I remember her reaction one time to someone gossiping about a fight Yuri had been in. One that they claimed put someone in the hospital. It was the first time ever that she made it clear that Yuri was only her stepson... I think she, like me, finds it hard to imagine forgiving him, but I'm certain that being forced into thinking and saying such a thing only hurt her more." He looked down to Pieter with an expression far cheerier than feelings dictated. "This is why I'm so thankful to you all for helping her. It may not seem much, but the way she speaks to Karin-- to all of you, is the happiest I have seen her in months... I only hope it lasts after you go home."

An air of calm descended upon the bench sat within this hectic hall, so much so that Erik soon began fretting over whether he'd made things uncomfortable.

"So... he never called home?"

"A couple of times." He'd been searching desperately for something to say or to do that might help relieve the awkward tension, but Pieter's question did anything but that. "M-My mother spoke to him, but she found it... difficult."

"And you?"

"I couldn't." Erik squirmed in his seat enough that it forced Pieter to step back. "She passed me the phone once, a month or so after he was sentenced... I just hung up on him. I just... I--"

"I can understand." Pieter closed his eyes, slowly massaging the top of his muzzle. Mercifully, he appeared to have pried as far as he wished to. "You really believed he'd have hurt one of you? His own family?"

Not quite far enough, perhaps. "He had history of it. He and his friends had already beaten me up once, when I first said I wouldn't help... Could he have done more to me after this? It wouldn't have surprised me. As for hurting my mother... if he was drunk." Erik clenched his fist, drawing a pop from his knuckles. "I dread to think."

Pieter approached his side again, glancing up at his tightly-coiled paw. "What happened after this? After your Polcian... friend--"

"Nathan... Nate."

"Right... After Nate was taken?"

A slow, considered wipe of his brow later, Erik worked up the nerve to travel back to that fateful day one year ago. He explained to Pieter how he'd been the one to help Alexei find where Yuri had been holed up; the old docklands where their father had worked in the increasingly distant past. On top of that, he went on to describe how Nathan had somehow freed himself from their possession, gotten out onto the street and been found before being subjected to anything worse. He left out some details, such as the fact that this came as second hand knowledge from Alexei, passed on after the events had transpired. He omitted how his friend almost throttled him at the revelation of his role in the abduction. Consequently, Erik also glossed over the fact that he played no part in physically rescuing Nathan. Instead, he'd spent that night at home alone in his room, wracked with guilt and sick to his stomach over what he'd done.

"Then it all worked out okay in a way, in the end?"

"No... not really." Erik pulled himself back from the spectre of that evening, reliving it for all but a moment. "After this, Yuri and his friends... his gang, they returned to the shop, trying to take Nate again, or for vengeance or for gods know what... In the process, they managed to burn it down. You see, it's because of what I did that I lost my job, and my friend lost his shop."

"Gods above."

"If not for good fortune... If I hadn't made it there in time to pull them out of the fire, it could have been so, so much worse."

"Wait, so you saved them?"

Erik nodded. "I saved them from what I caused in the first place--"

"Perhaps, but... you risked your life to help."

"But if I hadn't--"

"Erik, will you stop beating yourself up for one second and listen to me!?"

He bit his tongue, stunned by the commanding glare of the little ferret beside him.

"We cannot go back to stop our mistakes, but we can fight to try and fix them." Pieter's harshness eased. "I would definitely say you did that."

"You sound a little like Alex and Nate."

"Probably because like them, I'm right." He smirked, prodding the side of Erik's thigh. "If this is where all your guilt and all your worry about Polcians liking you comes from, then I say, as a Polcian myself, that you should lose it. To me, it sounds as if you made the best that you could from a terrible situation... A terrible time."

"Thank you, Piet." Erik gifted himself a deep, lengthy breath, his heart warming just a few degrees. "They did forgive, and I forgave myself after that... but it didn't take long for the guilt to come back... It's been with me for months. Every day without work reminded me of what I'd done. Eventually, I found work at the supermarket... but that only made those feelings worse. It was like I was being punished."

"The job's bad, but not that bad."

He choked out a laugh, shining a brief, thankful grin down at Pieter. "In a way it was... It is. Stuck in a dead-end job, trapped on the poor side of town with practically zero prospects... I just don't want to end up cracking under the pressure. I don't want to end up like my brother, and my father before him; a pair of violent drunks who--"

"Nonsense!" Pieter shocked Erik silent, even attracting the attention of a few people around them. "The idea that you could ever end up like that... If that were possible, you wouldn't be having these fears! You'd have never offered me and my family help. If these last weeks are anything to go by, what you have done for us, no Polcian in the world should fear you, and you should not fear yourself. Trust me, in your heart you're a good person! Don't forget it!"

"Thanks... s-so, so much." It was all Erik could do not to start welling up. "That means a lot to me."

"You're welcome, and I mean it." Pieter adjusted the collar of his shirt, toning down the passion he'd stirred within himself. "After all, the fact you three, you, Alex and Nate, are all still friends suggests they feel the same as me, too."

"Some are... more than friends." Erik gazed down into his lap, smirking. "Alex and Nate are partners. They made it official in the back of the ambulance that came after the fire."

"Partners? Polcian and Velikan? That's... unusual."

"It is... but they're a great couple. They moved Bolstrovo together to work at the new shop they set up there. Hopefully I can join them one day... get away from things like this."

With a backhanded swipe of his paw, Erik snarled at the protest loudly seeping across an even greater area of the station. Yet more placards had become visible, bobbing above the heads of those forcing commuters to curve their paths around them.

"I'm glad things worked out for your friends." Pieter, too, gazed over to the crowd, still hidden by Erik atop the bench. "You'll get out of this place, too, if you want it enough. Work hard and you'll do what you need to go join them." He craned his neck up to offer a determined glare. "Like I have said, you're a good person. You deserve it."

"Likewise." Erik beamed toothily. "You and your family will be back home and on your feet again very soon."

Another squad of police caught Erik's eye, passing the bench as they headed towards the group of protesters steadily growing in both size. They came equipped with helmets and body armour, their batons sheathed yet clear for all to see. Like those still occupying the station for more peaceful reasons, they remained largely calm in the face of increasingly passionate, Polcian-centric chants. Regardless, the sight of yet more officers gathering to surround the now boisterous demonstrators made Erik anything but that.

He tore himself from the world around their bench, gazing up to find the calling board's clock slowly ticking towards ten-past-three. Just a few more minutes to hold out. "Eh... Piet, I've wondered something, too."

"Huh?" Pieter responded sluggishly, diverting his own eyes away from their surroundings. "What's that?"

"That night I found you in the alley, when I asked you to come with me to stay. What convinced you to say yes? Because... for a moment, I thought that you'd prefer to stay there."

"Honestly, we almost did stay." He let out a brief chuckle, glancing up with the trace of a smile. "What convinced us? Well... while I might have tried to claim the opposite at the time, I think it's no secret that we were struggling there, surrounded by rust and garbage in the middle of winter. I doubt we could have coped for very much longer."

"It's amazing you managed to cope at all, considering how much rain and snow we had this year. I suppose it was only logical for you to say yes."

"Not only logical... You see, there was something about you that convinced me. Something honest. Genuine. It told me, deep down, that we could trust you."

A grin cracked through onto Erik's tense muzzle, earning the same from Pieter in return. "I'm happy to know that, and that I haven't proved you wrong."

"Not at all. I think it's safe to say you're one of, if not the only Velikan along with your mother that has shown us that much care and respect. That night, it was... as if the size difference was nothing. Like it wasn't an issue above any other. A lot of Velikans, and I suppose Polcians, too, can't help but focus on that one thing. Often for the worse."

Erik's contentment proved short lived, his attention finding its way back across the hall. "It does seem that way, sadly."

The atmosphere of the station had turned electric; a large section of the group storming away from the entrance while their various chants meshed to become one loud, unintelligible roar. In response, yet more well-kitted officers moved in from positions unseen, doing their best to circle and corral the demonstration in one place. That, it seemed, only served to raise tensions and make matters worse.

Those commuters still attempting to catch their trains maintained a sizeable distance. Others began to seek shelter in the small stores lining the hall, warily watching the scenes unfold. More than a few meanwhile had drifted away, streaming quickly towards every exit.

"We'll get Thijs and Anika and head off out of here," Erik stated with wavering words, standing from the bench without thinking. "It's quite a walk to the next station on the line--"

"L-Let's do that," Pieter blurted. "Worth the walk."

"Maybe we should call them." Erik's chest began to tighten. "Tell them to forget about meeting us here and to just head to that station and wait for us."

"Can't. They won't have a signal underground."

He growled under his breath, throwing his arm up to grab a pawful of head fur. "I really wish this wasn't happening."

"Me too... but things like this were always on the cards."

"How do you mean?"

"I mean how companies like my old one have moved here and helped unsettle things." Pieter climbed to his own feet atop the wooden bench. "They bought all the latest technology from back home, made a lot of competitor companies and workers here obsolete. They then sold that tech to other Velikan companies still operating, allowing them to do the same. If something like that happened to me back home, I wouldn't have been happy, either."

"It's not like our governments since then helped to prevent it happening." Erik reached down to lift him into his paws. "As long as it brought in more money and as long as we gained access to the latest Polcian technology, I don't think they much cared about anything else."

"Perhaps."

"I do know that making a scene here won't help change anything. They'll only scare ordinary people who are just trying to get by."

"Too bad more people don't realise these things," Pieter scoffed, hunkering down out of view from those around them. "Maybe we'd all be better off--"

A thunderous crash echoed around the station; a flashpoint unseen turning the demonstration violent right in front of their eyes.

"What happened!?" Pieter squealed, throwing his paws to his ears with a grimace.

Erik watched a large wave of protesters rush forward, clashing loudly with police physically blocking them off in response. "I-I think they're trying to get to the platforms."

Fellow travellers began to scatter, abandoning their plans and rushing to escape the scene if they hadn't already. Many of the placards hovering over the crowd had vanished. Hooded, masked individuals had taken their place, swarming towards the ticket barriers.

"Erik, can you still see the collection point?"

He couldn't; the mass of bodies far too thick to see beyond.

"Cease and disperse," came the police announcement, booming from a megaphone to reverberate around the aged iron rafters and earth-toned brick walls. "This is an order."

"We need to do something," Pieter whined, his trembling form wriggling all over Erik's pawpads. "The train will be here any minute!"

The unrest only worsened as those only looking for conflict continued to make themselves known. Chanting turned to screaming. The charge became a riot.

"Stop, or we will be required to use force!"

Police shields shoved them away, but fast fists and projectiles came straight back at them. Batons emerged, extended and swung away. Erik grabbed his backpack.

"What are we going to do?"

He curled Pieter up in his paw and clasped him firmly to his chest.

"Erik!?"

In a flash, they began their push towards the collection point. The remnants of those fleeing the scene meanwhile still formed a sizeable rush in the opposite direction, bumping his shoulders, checking his sides and weakening his footing. Relentless, they threatened to sweep Erik up and carry him away. Despite it all, not once did his strides falter. Not once did his grasp on Pieter weaken.

A solitary second of respite came as the last commuter passed, ending the instant Erik thrust himself into the conflict.

He kept Pieter hidden away beneath his splayed paw, pushing past those on the fringes that had so far kept their unrest verbal. A small pair of arms clung to him all the while, so tight that he could feel it through his jacket.

Erik kept his head down and his steps true, forcing his way further into the unrest. Thankfully, he drew little interest from those focused only on hurling paws and projectiles at the police ahead. Here, right in the heart of the conflict, every anti-government, anti-police and, most unnervingly, every anti-Polcian chant could be heard and understood. Inside, Erik thanked the gods that Pieter couldn't understand them as his paw clasped even tighter.

While avoiding direct attention in this vicious, almost unending mire of hate, it didn't keep stray paws and elbows from bumping and slamming into almost every part of Erik's anatomy. Most he could brush off or sidestep without much consequence. Those few that did strike firmer dazed him, winded him, but they never deterred him from pressing ever deeper onwards. "We're not far now, Piet," he muttered amid the commotion. "We're--"

A sudden blow to the head sent Erik stumbling. He shifted his feet quickly, fighting hard to keep himself upright as he staggered sideways through the violence.

"Hey!" A pair of paws shoved Erik's arm, hitting him with enough force that he stumbled back from where he'd came.

"Get the hell off me!" Another paw struck as he pinballed through the crowd, thundering the air from his lungs as it struck a hair's breadth above the paw shielding Pieter. "Knock me again, Spots. See what happens."

Shaken, Erik glared in confusion at the culprit; a tiger half-hidden behind a red bandana covering his short muzzle. The bright yellow eyes staring back threatened to burn a hole through his resolve, but soon shifted to focus back upon the barriers, and the collection point, just beyond the encroaching police line.

"Fucking Polcians go home!" The masked thug stormed, jabbing out a finger. "Fuck the police, too. Sellouts!"

The shoving and shouting around Erik faded, his mind flashing back to Alexei's store one year ago. A hooded wolf stormed past with a makeshift wooden club in paw, the hard slam to his shoulder almost unnoticed as Erik relived the moment Yuri and his friends barged in, demanding he help abduct the 'big-mouthed Polcian' staying there. He remembered the sheer rage in his brother's own searing yellow eyes after his initial refusal. Shades of the soul-crushing, gut-wrenching force from the blow to his stomach came next, echoing it almost to the point that his legs threatened to buckle and gave way.

"Gods, Erik," Pieter yelped quietly, head peering out from above his fingers. "We've got to get there before they do."

"Polcian-loving scum! You let your fucking country down!"

Erik snarled viciously. In that moment, he was back at Alexei's shop, reeling from the strike that had shattered his relationship with Yuri forever. Everything around him slipped into insignificance, except for his brother standing right there in front of him. He clenched his paw, bared his teeth. A red mist descended. The hate drove him forward.

Erik caught the taller feline completely unaware, crushing hard into his spine. Half tackling, half punching, digging his knuckles in as brutally as he could, he sent him falling forward at speed.

The mask-wearing tiger parted the protesters ahead, thudding loudly into the unforgiving shields blocking their way. He dropped to the floor in a heap. Not so threatening now.

Erik cut through in the wake of his fall, bringing himself within sight of the collection point he and Pieter so desperately needed to reach.

"D-Do you see them, Erik?" Pieter stammered, cowering down. "Are they there!?"

"I can't..." He weaved around, dodging charging bodies and flailing limbs, trying hard to see beyond the row of police now unsettlingly close by. "I can't see."

One of the officers swept his baton low into the advancing crowd, striking the club-wielding wolf's calf before receiving help from a colleague to throw him to the ground hard. For a split second, Erik caught sight of the collection point, along with a pair of Polcians atop it that looked a lot like Thijs and Anika.

"There! I see them!"

"Are they okay?" Pieter squirmed beneath Erik's paw, trying himself to get a better vantage. "Kids, it's Dad! We're coming!"

"Hey!"

The red-masked tiger flashed back into view, eyes like fire as he leapt up from the ground. Erik's focus darted down to the paw rushing into his pocket, stealthily revealing a small pocket knife.

"Think you can mess with me!?"

Caught cold, he threw out his free paw, trying to keep Pieter shielded with the other.

"What the fuck do you say now?" the thug roared, feigning a subtle thrust of his weapon. "Polcian-lover."

Erik flinched away, heart pounding hard enough to hear as he tried to escape the threat.

"Little prick--!" A blood-curdling cry rang out, almost as loud as the sickening thud of metal against flesh. Erik looked back, finding the blade-carrying tiger lurched over clasping his thigh. He started to crumple, but found help to hit floor from another pair of riot squad members crashing down atop him.

Erik spun on his heels, rushing blindly for the pickup point. Instinct carried him towards the gap that had opened moments before. It was the best way through the chaos. The only way.

"Stop! Now!"

A huge, brown shep knocked him back. He drew his baton high above Erik. His wide, muscular frame and shield of hardened plastic formed an imposing, impenetrable wall.

"I'm not a protester!" Erik cried, throwing out his arm all over again. "I'm trying to get us all home!"

Mercifully, that reaction prompted the officer to halt his swing. His eyes widened, gazing straight down at Pieter trembling behind a protective paw.

"They're terrified--" Erik squealed, a hard shove in the back causing his muzzle to crack against the plastic barrier ahead; a stark reminder of the violence breaking out all around them. "Look! Please!"

The broad canine followed his frantic gesturing, quickly glancing back over his shoulder to where the children stood petrified a few footsteps away.

"Thijs, Anika!" Pieter cried out. "Stay there!"

"Please!" Erik reached out desperately beyond the last obstacle in their way. "We need to get--"

A huge brown paw clamped down tight on his shoulder, hauling him hurriedly beyond the black line of uniform.

Erik wasted no time on ceremony, slipping off his backpack and tugging it open in the few strides it took to reach the collection point.

"Erik!"

"Get in, Thijs!" Projectiles of all sizes rained down around them as they fell beyond their targets. "Anika, come on!"

They both dashed out from the underground tunnel's entrance, leaping without question into the main section of Erik's backpack. A loud slam and the crashing of glass to his right forced Erik to duck. He looked up at the vacant information desk, finding a brick-sized hole in its shattered front window.

"Piet, in, quick!"

He did so without question, descending quickly from Erik's loosened, trembling grip.

With all three of them safely stowed, Erik zipped his bag, slipped it onto his shoulders and ran for his life.

The small section of safety behind the police line had begun to shrink even further, their defense slowly succumbing to those battling against them. More and more missiles crashed down, damaging whatever they struck. That included Erik, earning a hard thump to the head as he joined the unrest once more.

Sidestepping one baton-swinging officer from behind, he found a gap barely wide enough in the line for him to burst through. He grabbed both straps of his bag, dipping past a rioter falling back heavily against their comrades from the resulting blow.

Another hood-wearing, bush-tailed youth charged forward into his path, smashing a fist square into an unsuspecting ursine officer's muzzle. He kept up his pace, gathered his strength and drove on through with an solid bodycheck.

The attacker went tumbling, clearing the way for Erik to sprint onwards without once looking back.

Heart racing and adrenaline pumping, nothing could have stopped him from escaping the mayhem and dashing all the way to the station's side entrance. He jumped clear of the short flight of stairs outside, hitting the street. Glorious sunshine and wonderfully cool afternoon air greeted him. It told him, finally, of their safety.