This is Alek again.

Bree was right with me writing in here again. I have to write on here though, because Bree still wants me to and it's actually very calming... Or as Bree told me, 'therapeutic.' Okay.

So after I left the base of HEROES, leaving it for the last time, I spent the rest of the day with my host family.

The next day, I got onto an airplane and went off to St. Petersburg, since school was on break and my family over there told me to come over there during the break.

I felt my heart beating fast and my hands growing clammy as I neared the house of my adoptive parents. The cold weather didn't help as the crisp, frigid air brushed against my face and the frost-covered ground were making my feet turn cold. I halted in front of a massive, brown mansion that was surrounded with grass and trees. "Я вернулся домой," I mutter to myself as I squeezed the handle of my suitcase. I am back.

With a deep breath, I began walking down the pathway toward the patio of the mansion, then walked up the steps to the patio, and halted in front of the front door. I placed my hand on the golden knob of the door and turned it slowly, feeling that it was unlocked; I pushed the door open and warily strolled inside.

The inside of the house was one large room, which consisted of the foyer, where I was standing in, and the kitchen/dining room, which was located on the other side of the room. The walls were white with a huge window to my left; the window had a large, white tapestry draped on the top of it. There was a long, white chandelier suspended from the middle of the ceiling, adding to the elegance of the room. To the left were two, mahogany-coloured sofas facing each other with golden accents; in between them was a brown, wooden coffee table; below those three furnitures was a rug elegant designs of maroon, gold, green, and white.

To the right was a closet door for jackets; next to that was an opened archway to the living room; next to that was a staircase to the second flooring. Beyond the staircase was the kitchen, which had a dark, wooden-topped counter parallel to the right-hand wall; that wall was lined with the stove, sink, cabinets, and refrigerator. In the middle of the back of the room was the dining table, which was made out of the same material as the coffee table. To the left was another window, this time smaller with a smaller tapestry; below the window was a counter with chairs and a sink installed in it, which was used for washing dishes. The walls were adorned with tapestries filled with Russian designs, pictures showing off Russian art, and elegant-designed lights.

"Здравствуйте?" I called out as I traipsed deeper into the room. Hello?

Suddenly, a man and a woman, both with tan skin and dark brown hair, appeared out of the archway: my adoptive parents. My father was wearing a white collared shirt with khaki pants while my mother wore a red dress. On the other hand, I was wearing my favourite grayish-blue jacket along with jeans and my red converse.

"Алек, ты дома!" my mother shouted out with glee was she zoomed up to me; she took me into an embrace. Alek, you're home!

I took it cautiously, since last time I was here, things did not go so well; it was what I explained to Andrea back at the cliff.

"Как была Америка, сынок?" my father asked me as he strolled up to me with his hands in his pants' pockets. How was America, son?

My mother letted go of me and stood next to me, smiling down at me.

I had a frown with wide eyes. "Гм, это было--" Um, it was--

"Давайте поговорим об этом за обедом!" my mother cut in happily. Let's talk about this over dinner! "Я сделал свой любимый: Борщ! Идеально подходит для этого типа погоды, верно?" She flashed me a smile. I made your favourite: Borscht! Perfect for this type of weather, right?

I nodded my head slowly. "Хорошо..." Okay...

So now the three of us were gathered around the dining table, sipping on the beet soup and eating pieces of soup-dunked bread.

"Итак, как была Америка, сынок?" I heard my father asked again. So, how was America, son?

I slowly gazed up from my meal to look at him. I didn't feel like talking about my adventurous adventures in America because number one, I couldn't talk about them--Poncho's orders. And number two, there weren't so many great memories from my adventures with HEROES, because, well because Feliks was dead and this place brought memories of him to me. I couldn't show the devastating state my mind was in, so I just forced out a vague answer. "Это было хорошо, я думаю..." It was good, I guess...

"Был он отличается от здесь?" my mother pipped in with an interested look; she was in the middle of dipping bread into her bowl of soup. Was it different from here?

Now that I knew for sure. "Да..." Yeah... I nodded my head.

"Как?" How?

"Что ж..." Well... I dropped my head down to stare at my bowl again. With one fist holding my head up by my jaw, I began soaking a chunk of bread into the dark, red soup. "Они говорили по-английски... Все было на английском языке..." They spoke English... Everything was in English.

"Будьте рады, что вы приняли по-английски во время школы, Александр," my father told me, pointing his spoon at me. Be glad you took English during school, Aleksandr. "Это пришел, чтобы эффективно использовать." It came to good use.

I just stuffed the wet bread into my mouth with my eyes on him. I wanted to get the message that all I wanted was some silence.

But my mother picked up the wrong vibe.

"Алек дорогая, с тобой все в порядке?" she asked with a concerned look. Alek darling, are you alright?

I darted my eyes at her. "Да." I shrugged with a frown. Yeah.

"Не лгать нам, Александр," my father told me sternly with raised eyebrows. Don't lie to us, Aleksandr.

"Ну, если бы я сказал вам, ребята правду, это не имеет значения, потому что вы, ребята, просто злиться на меня...!" I spat at them while rolling my eyes. Well, if I told you guys the truth, it wouldn't matter because you guys would just get mad at me...!

My adoptive parents exchanged looks of surprise.

"Но мы твои родители, мы, несомненно, волнует вашей проблемы!" my mother gasped at me after turning back from her husband. But we're your parents, we would definitely care about your problem!

"Нет, вы не так," I forced out, trying to hold back the emotions of dolefulness that were beginning to rise up inside of me. No, you wouldn't. "Потому что это точная причина, почему вы послали меня в Америку, в первую очередь." Because it's the exact reason why you sent me to America in the first place.

Then silence immediately took over the atmosphere of the room, making the tension so thick, one could cut it with a sword.
I knew that I was going to cry and I didn't want my parents witnessing that. So with one rough movement, I pushed myself away from the table, got up, and stormed out of the dining room as tears began rolling down my cheeks.

I rushed up the stairs and down the hallway, coming across the ajar door of my bedroom. I pushed the door fully open and dove myself into the other side as my breathing began to grow choppy. I slammed the door closed and with my legs giving out, I sunk to the carpeted floor. I hugged myself into a ball with my face in between my knees and began sobbing. At least I was finally alone, in my room, where no one could judge me and can comment on how stupid I looked crying for someone who no one understood why I loved.

I then felt someone wrapping his arms around my arms and legs as he pressed his body as close as he could to mine.

'Что мне нужно,' I thought to myself as I letted go of myself and placed my arms around him. What I needed. I laid my head on his shoulder, feeling myself relax and return to normal breathing. It was so relaxing, just the silence and the comforting...

Then something popped into my mind: 'Кто обнимает меня?' Who's hugging me?

I carefully lifted my head off, recognizing the gray coloured shirt the person was wearing. 'Феликс?' Feliks?

I slowly pulled away from him, staring into the face of the hugger: his jet black hair swooped aside with bangs; his bright blue-ish/gray-ish eyes behind black, square-framed glasses; he also had a sharp nose and jawline. "Феликс," I breathed out with amazement in my expression. Feliks.

A warm smile crept onto his face. "Скучал по мне?" he asked in his Ukrainian accent. Missed me?

"Да!" Yes! I threw myself against him, wrapping into a much more tighter embrace. I then gently pushed myself away and gazed into his eyes. "Но я думал...я думал, что ты умер..." But I thought...I thought you were dead... I knitted my eyebrows with a confused look.

"Мертв?" Dead? Feliks scrunched his nose and furrowed his eyebrows as a way showing that he did not understand what I was talking about. "Как вы, что?" How did you get that?

"Я видел тебя..." I saw you... I licked my lips, trying to maintain my feelings as the memory of his apparent death came back. "...я видел, как ты выстрелил...по телевизору..." I saw you get shot...on TV...

He gaped at me with a shocked look in his eyes. "Нет! Я никогда не был расстрелян! Где бы вы ни получили, что из, что это не так." No! I was never shot! Wherever you saw that at, it's not true. He looked down and slipped my hands into his; he gazed back up at me. "Я здесь...жив... Я всегда был здесь, ждет вас, чтобы вернуться." I'm here...alive... I was always here, waiting for you to come back.

I raised my eyebrows. "В моей комнате?" In my room?

Feliks letted out a chuckle. "Нет, глупо! В России!" No, silly! In Russia!

"Подождите--" But wait-- I looked behind my shoulder at the white door, waiting to hear my father's footsteps echoing closer to my room. A pang of trepidation rang through me as I looked back at my boyfriend. "...вы не предполагают, чтобы быть здесь. Вы помните, что случилось в прошлый раз?" ...you're not suppose to be here. Don't you remember what happened last time?

"Ваши родители принесли меня сюда," he responded cooly. Your parents let me in here.

"Что?" My eyes flew open. What?

"Да." Yeah. He adjusted himself. "Пока тебя не было, мои родители разговаривал с ваши родители и они принесли меня к вашему дому не так давно, так что мы можем быть вместе. Я думаю, они решили, что это хорошо для нас, чтобы быть вместе." While you were away, my parents talked to your parents and they invited me over to your house not so long ago, so that we be together. I guess they decided that it's okay for us to be together.

An opened grin immediately grew on my face. "Разве?" Really?

"Да, все это правда." Yup, it's true. He shot me a smirk.

I stared into his eyes. "Это просто стал величайшим день когда-либо." This has got to be the best day ever.

"Разумеется," Feliks responded. Definitely. He swooped his face close to mine and laid his lips on mine.

Definiately the best day ever.