Don't Open, Death Inside

Oscar Schoemann With special guest appearances by Liev Age: 35 Association: Cessations Profession: Assassin

[natasha-schoemann-blog]

Despite his ever strong feelings of resentment for the assassin, Angelo couldn’t help but smile as the two finally reconnected after nearly a year apart. Seeing Natasha’s smile was ultimately worth the debate of whether or not to bring her here, and he certainly hoped only good came from this, because honestly, the woman deserved some positives in her life after everything that had happened. 

Watching the pair for only a moment longer, Angelo eased himself back to the door of the room, glancing at the guard for only a moment to inform him he’d be back in due time. Slipping a card from his pocket, one that he had previously written the number to his backup phone on, the hacker handed it to the man. “Call me if anything happens.” He demanded lowly, cutting his gaze back to the others for a second before meeting the guard’s to make sure he understood. With the assurance he’d know if something went south, Angelo quietly excused himself from the room, knowing a certain friend of his he could kill a few hours with while the pair caught up on a years worth of missed opportunities. 

It was that familiar smile and that small breath of a laugh that brought immense relief to her, a clear sign that she didn’t have to hold back. As soon as Oscar moved to pull her into a hug, Natasha threw her arms around his neck, returning the warm embrance wholeheartedly, her lips curving into an even wider smile at the closeness she’d longed for so often during these past, harsh months. “I’ve missed you too, I - god, I missed you so much.” It was a soft half whisper against his neck, spoken in Italian, emphasized by a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“I had to see you-” she muttered after a moment of pleasant silence, a moment in which she closed her eyes as she just stood there, holding him and cherishing that wonderful feeling that came with it, allowing herself to feel truly happy despite all circumstances and odds. “They don’t have a time limit on hugs here, do they?” 

[oscarschoemann]

The dream was true; it was alive and well in his arms and Oscar held onto it with a precarious and desperate care. Keeping his arms wrapped around her, he took a deep breath, remembering the way she smelled, remembering the happy skip in her heartbeat and the soft tone of her voice. God there wasn’t a single thing about her he hadn’t missed. “If they do, I guess we’ll find out,” he determined, unwilling to let go of her just yet. 

As it turned out the limit was one minute, at which point the guard made a sharp reprimand which forced Oscar to take a step back, still holding her hands as he stood a foot apart from her. “God it’s so good to see you. How are you? How’s Luca?” he asked, trying to be patient in his questions. After all, she’d offered him far more detail of her life than he had of his in their constant exchange. 

[natasha-schoemann-blog]

During the car ride, Natasha had kept her mind off things with a pad of paper and a pen. Angelo was now the proud owner of an extensive set of medical doodles, including a few depictions of male genitalia - wherever Lena was right now, she’d appreciate this, perhaps even more so than the hacker himself. As she stood in front of the door, because Angelo had insisted on going in first despite her meager protests, there was no more mindless doodling to help keep her from wondering how Oscar was going to react to this out of the blue visit. Restless, she shifted her weight from one leg to the other, looked up and down the corridor, still gauging this place and its doctors. As far as she could tell, their security measures were up to date, but that didn’t say much about how the patients were being treated by the staff or - Natasha whirled around as the door was being opened from the inside, hazel eyes briefly meeting Angelo’s gaze. Quite honestly, he could have told her that he didn’t think seeing Oscar at this point was a good idea and she still would have made her way past him into that room.

In spite of a slight uncertainty and their surroundings, including a particularly grumpy looking guard, a smile creased the doctor’s cheeks into crescent dimples almost immediately as her eyes fell on the assassin. Light footsteps carried her across the small room, and if she hadn’t remembered not to overwhelm Oscar more than she probably already had with her unannounced visit, she might have pulled him into a long overdue embrace without a single care about whether or not the guard had an issue with that. But she did remember and thus held back, letting the distance of a whole year settle between them.

“Hey.”

[oscarschoemann]

A wave of relief and pure joy washed over him at the sight of her smile, and Oscar didn’t even recognize the tug of his own reflecting hers. “Hey,” he replied, a breath of a laugh escaping his lips as he froze in a moment of nostalgic happiness. For just a minute he could pretend he wasn’t here and that life was as simple as their greeting. But the minute he stood, the shuffle of the guard’s feet reminded him of the stifling reality. “Just a hug,” he explained with a placating hand, receiving a nod in response before he was allowed to approach his visitor. “I’ve missed you,” he admitted, smile still held firmly in place despite the admission. Hoping the dream wouldn’t evaporate when he touched, he pulled the doctor into a hug that was twelve months overdue.

[angelo-sorrentino]

It wasn’t so much the tone in which the other used to greet him as it was his face that nearly had the hacker’s composure breaking. After all, the man was uncomfortable enough to think World War III had erupted outside, and that’s why he was here. Though in reality, a lot of that had nearly happened months ago… He was sure Oscar already knew that. “What happened?” He repeated, raising his brows as his arms crossed lightly over his chest. “You didn’t fucking tell me what to do is what happened.” The words might’ve seemed harsh, but the short laugh that followed probably allowed the blond to realize it was only a joke - for once. “You gave me a general idea, sure, but not the fine details.” He continued, meeting Oscar’s gaze once more as one hand untangled from his chest to point towards him in almost a scolding fashion. “So you’re not allowed to get pissed at me, alright? This wasn’t my fault… But I’m not your visitor. Unfortunately. I know you’re absolutely crushed, but.. I was just the driver.” 

[oscarschoemann]

“...you’re not my visitor?” he questioned, brows furrowing in concern. After a year of deadening repetition and structure, this small visitation was more new stimuli than he’d had in months. But realization dawned shortly after as the details fell into place. “Nat.” The answer to his own question came with a sad fondness, realizing that the painful separation he had caused must have finally reached it’s breaking point. “You shouldn’t have...” he began, but the reprimand hardly had any feeling behind it. The idea of seeing Natasha in person, to hear her voice, her laugh--it was far too precious a commodity to argue about. And as Angelo pointed out, he had hardly been specific. “Is she--” Oscar glanced at the door, almost breathless at the thought of seeing her. “--I’m good. She can come in, I’m good,” he explained, nodding to Angelo briefly before his eyes locked back on the door.

[angelo-sorrentino]

I trust you to contact me on your best judgment.

Alright, well Oscar hadn’t been too overly specific on what he had deemed an emergency when he had given the hacker those instructions last year, and honestly? An upset girlfriend fell under the emergency list in his book. Though considering Angelo had been mostly positive he wouldn’t have had to have contacted the man at all, he really wouldn’t have thought he would have been standing inside one of the halls of the man’s hospital, waiting for the all clear to go into their designated ‘meet and greet’ room. Whatever the fuck that meant. However, after a little over a nine hour car ride; containing nothing but reminders for a certain passenger not look at road signs, and minor regret at giving Natasha a pad of paper to doodle on during the trip  — Here they stood, listening to the resident guard on duty—one with a very telling accent—give a speech on what not to do in Oscar’s presence in order to have a pleasant visit. Something Angelo had to muster a lot of self control not to outwardly scoff at. 

Within a few more minutes however, the guard finally concluded his ‘brief’ security reminders, and stood by to let them in, only for Angelo to stop Natasha with a hand on the shoulder and a ‘wait here’. Mental hospital or not, Angelo would never fully trust Oscar; or more so his other half-halves-whatever. Promising to call the woman in after a minute, just to make sure everything was okay, Angelo finally stepped into the room, spotting his least favorite man within a second of entering. Even a year hadn’t been enough time to forget the discomfort Angelo seemed to possess whenever in a confined space with the man. Pushing past it however, Angelo briefly ignored Oscar and the guard standing back by the door, feigning politeness in ‘silencing’ his phone as he made quick work of the devices they had monitoring their room; cutting the audio recordings, and looping the camera feeds. “Oscar. Long time no see, buddy.” He finally greeted, the Italian rolling off his tongue with ease, though not out of habit, but rather out of necessity to keep their ‘fly on the wall’ out of whatever business they were discussing.

@oscarschoemann

[oscarschoemann]

You have a visitor

After nearly a year of isolation, the statement should have been a relief to Oscar, but instead it had chilled him to the bone. He shouldn’t have visitors, not unless something had gone terribly wrong. So as he waited in the small and foreign visitor’s room, he meticulously ran through the list of possibilities. The police struck him as most likely, a bitter enemy or assassin seemed a possible second. Looking down at the simple white clothes he wore, perfectly manufactured to prevent violent rebellion, he felt a frustrating sense of helplessness. That was, of course, until the door opened, and he was silenced into a moment of genuine confusion.

“Angelo?” His greeting betrayed his uncertainty, but he managed to pick up on the necessary Italian despite the off-putting turn of events. “What happened?”

[natasha-schoemann-blog]

[oscarschoemann]

A Letter She Almost Didn't Send

Dear Oscar,

The thought of leaving Italy has crossed my mind more and more often lately. I keep lying awake, watching Luca sleep and I can’t help but wonder if I’ll be able to keep him safe here. He’s two months old now, time is flying and I keep waiting for something to change, but everything is the same. My apartment still lies abandoned, and everytime I’m out in public I feel like I have to look over my shoulder. I never wanted our child to grow up like this, in a place that’s ruled by a dictatorship. I don’t want him to grow up without his family and his godparents either, but I might have to accept that the current situation isn’t going to improve and if Ricardo stays in power, we’ll be forced to leave sooner or later. It’s a decision I’m dreading to make, because I’ll have to say goodbye to so many people I care about…and you know how bad I am at saying goodbye.

It’s almost Christmas. Can you believe it’s almost Christmas? Remember last year when you picked me up from that bar and I lamented about not being able to spend Christmas with my family? This year, they’re in Italy and they invited me and Nic over to celebrate. But you’re not here. Someone or something is always missing and I’m so tired of it. I wish we could all be together. Oh, Luca is currently wearing this adorable reindeer onesie. I think he likes it because it’s warm and fluffy, and I know I like it, because every time I’m starting to lose my Christmas spirit, I just have to look at him and I can’t help but smile. I’ll send you a picture of it and hopefully, it’ll make you smile too. I’m probably making him wear this thing far too often these days…

I’m sorry this hasn’t been the most cheerful letter. I guess I haven’t been the most cheerful person lately. I’m trying, but there’s something about this time of the year that makes you think even more about everything you’ve lost and everything you want… How are you doing? I know I can’t really ask you when you’ll be able to come home, but please tell me it’s soon, even if it’s a lie. I might be in need of a wonderful lie.

–photo–

Love, Nat.

[natasha-schoemann-blog]

Introducing Luca Mikael Brandt Born December 2 2:38 am 7 pounds 11 ounces - 20 inches

[ifshexists]

We may not get to see each other everyday. I am unable to hold you in my arms every night. But my heart knows that you are the one, and I will never let go

(via ifshexists)

[oscarschoemann]

Letter from a doctor to an assassin

Oscar,

I’m sorry for the large amount of time between this letter and the last. Angelo had to leave for a while and only returned yesterday morning. I hope the silence didn’t worry you, and I promise I’ll make up for it with a lot more letters this week. There’s quite a bit to write about after all, even if it’s just the little everyday things and nothing world changing, like the fact that I have to keep my cookie dough ice cream in the med ward next to the blood bags because someone kept taking it from the freezer in the kitchen…(and I haven’t been able to figure out who)

I’m sending you the picture of my midterm ultrasound along with this letter. Sweet pea doesn’t look much like a sweet pea anymore, and…I found out it’s a boy! We’re having a son, and everything from rompers to pacifiers is going to be wonderful, calming shades of blue and green. I might have spent near ridiculous amounts of money on baby things and now I’m actually fairly certain that I have enough clothes, blankets and the like to birth triplets… Lena was supposed to stop me, but she was just as excited about all the adorable things. So yeah, we’re alright. I think everyone here is. I don’t want to jinx it, but despite the political situation in Rome, things have calmed down a little. No recent attacks, arrests or riots, thankfully. I’m not sure if this is a good or a bad sign, but as always, I’m hoping for the best.

Your son started kicking as soon as I sat down to write this letter, which I suppose is his way of saying hi and driving my bladder crazy. If he keeps using it as a punching bag and trampoline the way he is, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s born with a six pack. He seems to be constantly working out in there, but I discovered that a lot of times walking around seems to lull him to sleep. Not that I mind him being this active, feeling him move and kick is amazing (although sometimes almost painful) - as long as he’s not eager to come out before term.

The most stressful thing for me right now is that I haven’t yet figured out where I’m going to live once he’s born. As much as I’d like to go back to my apartment, I don’t think it’s the safest option right now, considering the lease is in my name. It’s the first place anyone would come looking for me, and with the way things have been, I don’t want to be able to be found this easily, by just anyone. The problem is that I can’t stay at the mansion with a baby either, and as much as I was hoping that the political situation would change before his birth, it doesn’t look like that’s happening. Raphael has mentioned his guest floor, but I’m not sure Gabriella would be okay with me moving in with them. They just got married and the last thing I want is to impose on them or become a burden. Everything will work itself out somehow, it’s just been frustrating with my nesting instinct growing stronger while I don’t have a safe place to call home yet. It’s tricky if you don’t want to take any risks but you’re living in a city that’s full of them. But don’t worry, there’s still time for me to find a place to get settled, and you know I will.

In other news, flu shot time has begun and I have a feeling quite a few people will manage to get away this year. Partly because you’re not here to kindly convince them to sit still for thirty seconds or less while you entertain them with puns, partly because I’m slow and waddle like a penguin now and don’t seem to have any kind of intimidating effect on people whatsoever. In general, injured people seem to avoid me a lot more lately. I’m assuming they are either freaked out by the growing belly or they think they’re doing me a favor by attempting to self-treat their wounds. Which doesn’t make my job easier at all, because at some point it always backfires and I get to treat some nasty infections that could have easily been avoided. Also, finally a new case of toe fungus. It’s been a while. Of course I can’t tell you who, but I know you’re smiling right now.

I don’t know what you told Raphael before you left, but he has been incredibly sweet and supportive all this time. I like seeing his softer side, although I wonder if that’s going to end once he finds out that Rätsel is now living at the mansion. But so far, he hasn’t noticed.

By the way, Rätsel (I’m not sure if I’m spelling his name right?) has gotten fat, even more so than me. Mrs. Arnoldi paid no attention to how much she was feeding him, so now he’s on a strict diet, which he’s not too happy about. Poor guy.

I don’t see Henry around all that much, but I think he’s doing well too. He’s had to endure a sudden hormonal flood of my never ending worries in the middle of the night before. I felt bad for springing all that on him, but he knows you better than most , so his opinion matters a lot.

Please don’t ask me to keep you updated on Salvatore. I don’t know what he’s up to and I don’t think I want to know. He’s alive. We’re somewhat civil around each other. 

You wouldn’t believe how excellent Lena’s taste in baby related things is. I’m not joking. Every time we go shopping, she manages to find the most adorable onesies and stuffed animals. And somehow, she manages to keep me from worrying too much. I don’t know how she does it and I don’t know if she even notices.  

Jackie keeps asking about you whenever she’s in the clinic, in a subtle, very casual way, as if she’s embarrassed about asking altogether. It’s almost adorable how she’s acting like it’s not a big deal when it’s so obvious that she’s dying to know when you’ll come back. I think she really misses you. Not nearly as much as I do of course.

Because I miss you, a lot. Currently there’s this big, amazing U shaped pregnancy pillow lying on your side of the bed. It’s amazing, it might be the best thing that’s ever been invented for pregnant women, it’s great but I wish there was no room for it. I wish you would occupy that space. I prefer you over pillows. And strawberries. And, I might as well admit it, ridiculous amounts of ice cream that make me even fatter than I already am. And hormones that make me write things like this. Don’t laugh…but please do. Laugh and smile as you read this. Be okay. Please be okay. Because my worrying nature has me worrying far too much about you.

I love you.

-Natasha

[oscarschoemann]

[khaleesi-2109]

You know it’s love when you’ve been saying good bye for the last half hour and you are still not ready to leave them.

(via bebikeks)

[oscarschoemann]

A Doctor and an Assassin

[oscarschoemann]

natasha-brandt:

“You’re welcome,” Nat whispered, aware of the time even if she refused to look at the clock that kept on ticking in the background, constantly reminding them that they didn’t have forever - at least not right now. She’d probably never disliked clocks as much as she did in this moment, because it was slipping away from her far too fast, pushing her closer towards the inevitable goodbye she didn’t know how to phrase. “I can’t wait to see you again.,” she muttered with a soft smile on her face, words drenched in hope, as she leaned in to kiss him.

They were both treading so lightly on the surface of their thoughts, afraid of emotions that would swallow them whole in their depth. But Oscar had never loved Natasha lightly. They both loved too deeply for their own good, and their lips said more to each other than their words often could, treading across the territory their words were afraid to go.

“Me neither,” he agreed, wrapping a hand around the back of her neck as he rested his forehead against hers. “I’ll count the hours.” He’d probably count the minutes too. And the seconds. And the small infinities between seconds that weren’t with her.

[oscarschoemann]

angelo-sorrentino:

The smallest huff of breath left the man’s lips at the assassin’s comment, a breath of a laugh that didn’t quite form. The meaning behind the words probably all too true considering the way of life the pair of men lived. Dropping his hand back to his side with enough self control to resist the urge to wipe it upon an article of clothing, Angelo eyed Oscar carefully for a few moments, allowing an extended silence to occupy the room. Giving a delayed nod after a few more seconds of undisturbed quiet, the younger man retreated back to the door, pulling it open with only one last parting glance towards the man still occupying the room. Perhaps, the hacker finally decided, it wouldn’t be too extremely terrible if the man did return in due time. He could probably deal with Oscar by himself. Allowing his lips to tilt up into an almost challenging smirk, Angelo raised a hand in a tiny mock salute, before exiting the room entirely, leaving the older man to finish his packing alone. 

-Fin-

[oscarschoemann]

A Doctor and an Assassin

[oscarschoemann]

natasha-brandt:

She’d noticed a long time ago how perfectly her hand fit into his, how their fingers intertwined with natural ease as if that was their sole purpose, how the warmth of their hands melded at the touch, how their thumbs automatically brushed against each other’s soft skin. What she’d never paid much attention to was the inevitable part of letting go again at some point. That was what she was bad at, accepting cold air in place of his hand. But not yet. Not yet. “Yes,” Nat agreed quietly, her eyes feeling hot and far wetter than she allowed them to be the longer she studied the small curve of his lips.

Setting the precious gift down to his side so he could turn and place his other hand atop hers, Oscar finally lifted his eyes to meet hers with a watery smile. “Thank you.” It was a perfect gift, a tangible piece of home and hope. A way to remember what he was fighting for in the loneliness the coming months were sure to bring. But more than she knew, he would cherish it because it was a piece of her; something she’d touched and loved and made for him. That alone meant the world to him. 

[oscarschoemann]

A Doctor and an Assassin

[oscarschoemann]

natasha-brandt:

“I don’t know about perfect,” Nat muttered quietly, feeling a need to fill the silence with words because otherwise, the ticking of the clock on the wall was too loud, too palpable. “My crocheting skills are a bit rusty.” She sat down beside him again, leaving even less space than before, hazel eyes watching him quietly from the side, well aware that he wasn’t just avoiding her gaze to closely study the baby booties. 

It wasn’t hard for his hand to find hers; they were like magnets, now more than ever, as he gave hers a light squeeze to express the words still caught in his throat. Perfect. Just like the future she had painted for him. “They’re so small,” he observed, lips curved fondly at the thought of what a tiny little thing their child would be. He wanted to hold them right then and now, and the terrible thought that he never would was all too close to this hope. What if Salvatore had been right? What if this was goodbye?

[oscarschoemann]

A Doctor and an Assassin

[oscarschoemann]

natasha-brandt:

Nat chuckled, memorizing the feeling of his lips on her cheek and the soft comfortable weight of his head against hers, because for a while, memories would be all she’d have. “It’s something you can take with you.” She playfully ran her fingers through his hair. “Something you can touch, something from the future we both want, something’s that’s already real.” Finally she got up to retrieve the pair of baby booties from their hiding space in the cabinet. They were tiny enough to fit in her palms as she extended them out for him to take.

Something that’s already real. The words were sweet, but Oscar couldn’t imagine them to be true. Their future was a dream, a beautiful one, but intangible and so terribly far away. So when she held the small child’s boots out to his hands, a warm smile spread across his features, faltering for a short moment as he swallowed back the lump in his throat. Accepting the gift, he looked down on the hand-made clothes fondly, using his curiosity as an excuse to avert his red-rimmed gaze. “They’re perfect,” he replied, brushing a thumb gently over the soft yarn as he tried to remember that this was a hopeful moment, not a somber one.

[oscarschoemann]

A Doctor and an Assassin

[oscarschoemann]

natasha-brandt:

“Good,” she said, her smile mirroring his, dimples creasing her cheeks as she rested her head comfortably on his shoulder, “Because I won’t let you leave without it.” The painful truth was that she wasn’t entirely sure if she was able to let him leave with it either. A moment passed, followed by another one. “I should probably go get it, shouldn’t I?” she asked, feeling as if time was standing still as long as she wasn’t moving either.

“Hmm?” he questioned, leaning his head against hers before he turned to press a quick kiss to her cheek. “I thought this was my gift,” he replied, thinking of few things he could want more than one more hour with her company. The two had spent almost every moment together since the decision was made, talking late into the night about their plans for the future. Yet they didn’t seem to have a plan for this part of their future quite sorted out.