Listen To The Music That Goes Along With This Chapter.

Vlad stood behind Dimitri silently, his jolly face set in a stony and grim frown.

"You can't do this.  Dimitri, it would...it's not what you truly want."

"Who are you to say what I want?"  Dimitri said calmly as he placed a shirt
inside of the suitcase.  "Sometimes we don't do things we want to, but things
we have to."

"Don't try to be Aesop!  Now if you would just stay and listen to me, I'm
telling you, I know what is to be done!"

Dimitri turned around.  "Vlad, save your breath.  I'm going back to St.
Petersburg.  It's as simple as that."

Vlad threw up his arms. "Dimitri, where is your brain?  In Halifax?  You
won't even listen to me.  Right now, you're not listening.  Do you even hear
me?  Hellooooooooo..."  Vlad often restrained himself, but now was NOT a
time to be restrained!

Dimitri looked up blankly at Vlad. "I hear you Vlad.  Even so, I know what I
have to do.  I can't stay here.  It'll just ruin everything.  Everyone would just
be better without me."

Vlad sighed and leaned against the wall of the room.  "Dimitri, there's so
much opportunity for you here.  There's Anya.  Yes, she's mad at you -- and
me for that matter.  But I'm making amends with her, and if you'd just let
your side of the story out...if you'd just tell her...tell her how much you..."

"Tell her?  Come on, Vlad.  Don't be naive."

Vlad watched Dimitri sadly.  His whole prescene was different.  What was
once an energetic, exceptional youth, was now an empty, unadorned man.
He was still the same Dimitri on the outside, proud and handsome, but inside
-- he was another person.  A broken person.

His eyes...they were the most startling.  Through everything he had been
through, he had been able to hide it, except for in his eyes.  They always gave
away Dimitri's true feelings, whether someone noticed or not.  Dimitri could
be laughing, but his eyes would show sadness.  He could be crying, but his
eyes would tell that it was a ruse to get his way.  But now...even Vlad had
never seen this look in them before.  They were the eyes of a man who was
tired of trying, tired of being himself.  A look of total failure.

Vlad grasped his arm.  "Don't give up, my boy.  Please.  Anya needs you.  I
need you."

Dimitri's mouth tightened as he struggled to keep everything in.  His voice
cracked ever so slightly.  "I...I'm fine Vlad.  Really.  I just...I just need to get
back."  He pulled out of his grasp and turned away, taking a few deep breaths
to calm himself.

Vlad felt tears gather in the corners of his eyes.  If he could just get him to
stay, he could work everything out with Anya later.  "Dimitri, please.  I don't
care if you tell her anything.  Leave her alone if you think it's right.  But I
have my own things to tell you.  Things that really, really matter!"

Dimitri gave a loud, overdramatic sigh.  "Vlad, you're just stalling me."  He
shut the suitcase with a loud umph.  If inside he was going to be so torn, he
might as well show the angry side instead of the sad.

"Dimitri!  Don't use that tone of voice with me!"

It was the old days, Vlad scolding Dimitri for staying out too late, or lying
about something, trying to persuade him to see his side of the story.  It was
just like the first time he had met him at the inn in St. Petersburg.  Dimitri
had been so stubborn, so sure of himself, yet so scared and frail.

They had worked through it.  They had forged ahead together, taking one day
at a time, clinging to the one thing that would be destined to be the same
forever: them.  Vlad could always depend on seeing the slick and
overconfident Dimitri in the windowseat, reading his latest book.  Dimitri
knew that every morning he'd wake up to see the kind and gentle Vlad
making porridge for breakfast.  They were constant.  Things around them
were changing, but they had been protected in each other, safe together.
Countries changed, people changed, but they were always there, joking,
laughing, and holding on.

They were gripping hands now, still gripping for dear life to the things
changing.

Now they were changing.

Dimitri looked at Vlad unsteadily, his emotions rising closer to the surface.
"I'll see you after I meet with Marie.  I won't leave without saying good-bye."

Slowly, they let go of the other's hand -- destined to find their way in the
world alone now.
~*~
Dimitri looked at the toe of his shoes.  It had rained here earlier.  Everything
was just like he felt -- damp, murky, and overcast.

He already missed Anya.  That sweet smile she would give him, her musical
laugh when she'd just heard something funny.  Her eyes, so blue and
expressive.  How much he'd miss those eyes.

Don't think about her.  She's in the past.  What you have to be concerned
about now is the future.

He didn't want a future without her, though.  He couldn't imagine going past
this day without at least seeing her.  What did he matter what happened to
him now?

This was so unlike him.  He had always been someone who fought to the
end, a survivor.  Why was this time so different?

Because he didn't want to hurt her anymore.  He had given her so much pain,
and now it made him sick to think about staying around and giving her more.
He'd rather be miserable for the rest of his life than do that to her.

He was being unselfish.  Imagine that.  If only he had learned it sooner!

How funny life was.  So that old parable that Vlad had taught him, "Do Unto
Others As You'd Have Them Do Unto You" was true.  He had cheated, and
now he was cheated.  He had stolen, and now he was stolen from.  He had
hurt -- and now he was being hurt.

How things would have been so different if he had only tried to be honest.
He had given up so much -- love, dreams -- for nothing!  Money was nothing
to him now.  He had let Marie keep it and gladly.  He didn't want anything to
do with money.  He had lost far too much for it.

Mr. Schemer, Mr. Smart, Mr. "Not to worry, I got it all under control."  For
once, he was out of control.  The thing he had feared the most had happened.
He didn't even care now.  If he had swallowed his pride, if he had let
someone else be in charge for once, he wouldn't be in this mess.

He felt so useless now, so dense.  Things kept circling in his head, about his
past, the awful future that awaited him without Anya, Vlad, or anyone else.

He had let down everyone.

Including his mother.  Especially his mother.  Lara Leongard, the one woman
he had watched for everyday of his life, in busy crowds, at the habour, in
front of hotels, stepping out of taxi cabs.  He had pretended to not care, of
course.  He had pretended to push her out of his life.  Deep inside, he never
could.

He had gone against everything she had taught him about honesty, decency,
and loving someone else more than yourself.  Well, he had learned it -- the
hard way, but he still learned it.

He found himself looking for Lara, Anya, and Vlad, even now.  Like any of
them would want to actually see him.

What would have happened if he had listened to Vlad's lessons a little more
closely?  He acted like he could even remember one!  He had been so busy
scheming and conning at the time to concentrate on them.

Where was he even going?  He was lost in the streets of Paris without Sophie
to guide him.  He'd have to ask where the train station was.

He stopped a woman on the side of the street.

"Oś est la gare?"  Thank goodness he had at least learned French.  Without
that, he would surely be in trouble.

So he did remember a few things that Vlad had taught him.  He remembered
his language lessons very accurately, mainly because he had tried so hard to
learn.  He had dreams even then about escaping to Paris, and he had put two
and two together: you don't survive if you can't communicate.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.

He smiled a little.  He had learned that the same day that Vlad had taught him
to ask where the train station was it.  Something he and Vlad shared, as well
as he and Anya, a line so simple, yet so true and deep.  His life had been like
Charles Dickens's famous opening paragraph.  He could recite it all by
memory now.

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times."  That was certainly true.
His life had such ups and downs -- most of them superficial.  "It was the age
of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness."  How wise he had thought he was,
when all along he had been so insanely foolish!  "It was the epoch of belief, it
was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of
Darkness" -- oh it was all so true!!

How could Charles Dickens have been so intimate with his life?

For a simple reason: he wasn't.  He wasn't intimate with little Dimitri
Leongard's life.  He was intimate with life itself!

Dimitri's eyes widened at his new revelation.  Life was full of ups and
downs, and how incredibly blind he had been to not think that they happened
to everyone.  Not just everyone, but so often!  The twists and turns again!

It was an age of darkness now -- but an age of light could come.  To HIM
even.

But how?  He was nothing.  He was worse than nothing.  These thoughts had
led him to, in turn, push away everyone to avoid the pain of that feeling.  It
was a devastating cycle, done over and over.

His mother had loved him.  He had been so convinced he must have been so
awful for her to go away, but really, she had gone away FOR him.  She loved
him.  She thought he was worth something more than dirt.

Vlad was like a father to him.  He had tried to convince him to get a formal
education, and he had been so stupid to not!  Vlad believed in him.  Vlad
loved him, just like his mother did.

Dimitri had thought so low of himself that he had ignored them both.  He had
always thought of himself as a little kitchen boy, worthless in the eyes of all
without money.  He had been taunted and teased in the Royal Courts until he
was sure that he was nothing.

But they were wrong.  He WAS something.  He was something WITHOUT
conning, WITHOUT bringing pain to others in an effort to heal his own.
People BELIEVED in him.

He could be something.  Something he didn't need to be conniving for.
Something on his talents and sheer determination.

He would make Vlad believe in him again.  He would win Anya over, show
her that he truly, truly loved her, and would walk through jungles full of wild
beasts to simply see her smile.

He would make his mother proud.

He would return and do it all.  It was the start of a new hour, a new day, a
new life.

The winter of darkness gave way to the spring of hope.

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