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_ Part 8 _

"Erik! Thank the gods you're home!"

He'd wondered how his mother would react upon his arrival home, almost two hours after escaping the station. Turned out he'd barely be able to set foot inside the front door before being ambushed by a tearful, wince-inducing hug. "Ma, not so hard!"

"Are you okay!?"

"A little sore... I took a few knocks--"

"Where have you been!?"

"We had to wait over an hour for the trains to start running--"

"I called but you didn't answer!"

"What? I never heard--"

"We were watching the news. T-They were speaking about a riot at Kremensk station!"

"Ma, it's fine. Just--"

"Fine? Your paws are shaking!" She backed away, looking up fearfully into her slightly taller son's eyes. "Pieter and the children, are they okay!?"

"We're_all_ fine," Erik responded as calmly as he could, sticking to Velikan for both his mother's benefit, and perhaps those still nestled in his backpack also. "I'm sorry--"

"We were expecting you home already. We were worried!"

"I know. I should have called--"

"What happened?"

"I... Well..." He held up his paws, struggling to keep his mind on track amid the bombardment. "Apart from some anti-Polcian protest turning ugly.... I don't _know_what happened." Erik nudged the front door closed behind him, pacing slowly down the hall and into the living room. "We managed to get Thijs and Anika, and get away before..." He flopped down upon the sofa, remembering the club-carrying wolf, the blade-slinging tiger, and the baton-wielding police officers tasked with stopping them all. "I guess things turned real nasty after we got away."

"Let me get Karin from the kitchen. She will still be worrying." His mother rushed back out into the hallway, leaving Erik behind to unzip his backpack and settle it on its side.

"It's okay," he said softly, lowering his muzzle to the opening. "We're home now."

Tentative steps carried Pieter out onto the sofa, mirroring those he took to reveal himself from cover on the night they first met. Thijs and Anika followed close behind, their heads hanging low. No surprise to see just how shaken they'd been by it all.

"You're safe." Erik fought valiantly to keep his smile. "It's all over... We can forget about it."

They settled down in silence, huddling up to one another on their own tiny area of the centre couch cushion. Clearly, Pieter and the children believed that just as much as he did.

"Here they are," Erik's mother cheered, walking back into the room with Karin shifting anxiously about her paws. "Safe, just as I told they would be."

Even if it had been in a language Erik could speak, he'd have been hard pressed to understand Karin's squealing cries as she neared the sofa. She didn't wait to be lowered all the way down, hopping out onto the cushion to scurry over and reunited herself with her family.

Both Erik and his mother watched on as they threw arms around one another, consoling themselves while maintaining the language barrier. He couldn't blame them. After a day like this one, he could appreciate their attempts at finding a sense of familiarity; of security.

"She was even more scared than I was."

"Understandable." Erik looked up to his mother, left standing awkwardly between the couch and coffee table. "I can't even imagine how it must have felt to go through that at their size."

"We had to go start preparing dinner to try and stay calm." She shuffled over to the opposite end of the sofa, settling down carefully to leave the family comforting one another between them. "Not that it worked."

"I'm sorry for not calling. It was just so... I was focused on getting away, getting safe and to the next station on the line." He grabbed his phone from his pocket, finding its display notifying him of the seven calls he'd missed. "That's probably also why I never felt my phone when you rang."

His mother gave a sigh of undoubted relief, nodding gently as she eased back in her seat. "At least you are all home. It's over now."

The flicker of the television caught Erik's periphery, soon drawing his full attention towards it. He quickly recognised the grey-muzzled fox on screen from the local evening news, his report from the now far calmer central station silenced by the mute function. No doubt it'd been left that way by his mother, listening out for his delayed return home.

Erik reached for the remote waiting atop the coffee table, hesitating as he took it in his paw. As much as he wished to sate his curiosity over the riot's aftermath, he found himself in two minds over whether to turn up the volume, or turn off the set completely. After all, Erik felt sure neither Pieter, Karin nor the children would have the faintest urge to relive the event; something still possible with Polcian subtitles flashing across the bottom of the screen.

"It's okay, Erik."

Jaw hanging, he looked down to Pieter sat there with paws clasped in his lap. Karin meanwhile tended to Thijs and Anika, sharing with them a few more gentle words in their native tongue.

"You can unmute the television if you wish; I'd like to watch, too... I'd like to know more."

"Only if you're sure." Erik smiled almost apologetically, waiting for Pieter's silent acceptance before cranking the volume up to a few bars below normal.

"...latest figures we're hearing state that forty-five arrests were made during the course of this afternoon's events here at Kremensk Central. These are still estimates however, and the final figure could still rise further."

"You refer to the number of arrests made," the well-spoken news anchor responded from the studio; his voice drawing a nod from the reporter on-screen. "A lot is being made of the police response and the possibility of heavy-handedness on their part. What is the word on the ground there?"

"That is correct. Accusations of excessive force have been made by many of those involved in the protests, particularly with regards to the deployment of rubber bullets and tear gas to finally disperse the crowds and end the standoff..."

"-Mijn gods!-" Pieter muttered; no translation necessary for his Velikan hosts to understand even if his last sounded more like 'hots'. "We're only lucky that the train from the district didn't arrive later."

Erik grumbled in agreement, not needing to turn from the television to know the look of fright he'd received from his mother.

"...with six officers in hospital this evening however, one reportedly in critical but stable condition, those claims appear to be unfounded in what is fast revealing itself as the country's worst day of unrest in recent memory."

"We have been hearing reports in the last hour that the rioting seen today involved far more planning than originally suspected. The scale of the violence would certainly confirm this, would it not?"

"The protest itself was organised by supporters of the Velikan Progress Union party, similar to those that have been taking place in towns and cities across the country ahead of this month's presidential election. And indeed, like those, today's anti-government demonstration started out peacefully, remaining that way until more troublesome elements emerged. Eyewitness reports of masked individuals mingling with genuine protesters suggest that this was a premeditated incident."

"Has there been any word on the motivation for this?"

Erik scoffed loudly, as if the question even had to be asked.

"According to the police on the ground here, the remnants of their response force now finally preparing to leave, the target was believed to be the station's platforms and control room. Speculation suggests that they hoped to storm both in an attempt to disrupt and bring Kremensk Central, a key transportation hub for the region, to a standstill ahead of evening rush hour..."

"Or they were trying to do something more sinister," Pieter murmured, low enough for his family not to hear him. "Who says it's the_Velikan_train controls they were trying to get access to."

Erik's muzzle creased with a dismal smile, eyes downcast as he considered that theory. He'd always believed the command centres for the Polcian network to be located elsewhere, in more secure locations. Whatever the case, he doubted Pieter held any desire for a debate on the matter.

"How has the VPU reacted to this?" the anchor asked with intrigue. "Disturbances like this, seemingly carried out in their name, cannot have been well received on the eve of this year's election? An election that some experts believe could see them in power for the first time ever in the party's history."

"Well, we managed to talk briefly to Grigori Petrov, the party's presidential candidate who had been attending a fundraiser in the capital earlier today. Here's what Mr. Petrov had to say when questioned about the incident a short time ago."

The greying, vulpine reporter's image left the screen, replaced by the smug, self-satisfied smirk belonging to a tuxedo-wearing white wolf. Erik felt his hackles rise instinctively, his paws clenching the moment the gravelly, thickly-accented politician-speak began to offend his ears.

"Firstly, may I say that neither I, nor the Velikan Progress Union condone the violent actions carried out in Kremensk today...These actions however, deplorable as they are, do make clear the feelings running high among Velikans left disaffected by the current government and its misplaced policies. They do not believe that the Free Democratic Party hold their interests at heart, and certainly do not believe in President Tatrenko's promises to create more jobs, cut unemployment and deliver our youth the future they deserve. For the ordinary native of this great nation, there is only one way to vote this month--"

"Shut up, you f..." Erik snarled, censoring himself in his mother's presence. His ears still twitched from the scornful use of the word 'native', jabbing the remote to end the barely-hidden, anti-Polcian vitriol spewing forth. "It's almost like it's becoming acceptable, encouraged even, to be sizeist." He tossed the controller towards the coffee table, letting it clatter noisily to a standstill. "I hate it."

"You make it sound as if it's something new," Pieter grunted, sitting with arms folded and his head resting in an upturned paw.

Only the ticking of the clock hanging above the television could be heard as the remnants of day's light crept through the lounge window. Everybody in the room kept their eyes from one another; regressing into their individual, soundless worlds.

"Drinks," Tanya blurted. "Would... anyone care to have a drink?"

Erik shook his head dejectedly, with Pieter and his family offering even less of a reaction. The tragic tranquility threatened to fester all over again, until Pieter's grumbling earned his attention.

"It's only going to get worse, isn't it?"

Erik didn't know how to respond to that. Partially because he couldn't know the future, but mostly because he couldn't bear to admit what he believed it'd bring.

"I think we shall have that drink, please?" Karin muttered, rubbing the side of Thijs' teary face. "Does that sound good to you, Ani?"

"Yeah," Anika answered, her meek, uncertain voice a far cry from what Erik had grown used to.

"Maybe... we could go to the kitchen, Tanya?" Karin suggested, observing her husband's stoic expression. "Get some space, also."

"Okay." Erik's mother rose from her seat, moving past him to gather Karin and the children up from the sofa. "We can finish up on preparing dinner, also."

"I'm not wrong," Pieter muttered meekly. "I know it."

Erik waited for the others to leave the room, shifting to gaze down at his lowered ears and tightly coiled tail. "At least... It seems as if the intention wasn't to attack the Polcian train."

"That doesn't stop the fact that this protest and the others like it are because of us, does it? It doesn't hide the hostility."

It didn't. Not even close. Erik searched for the words to try and dispute that fact, but came up hopelessly short.

"I might not have understood much of what happened at the station today, but you don't need to speak the language to understand anger." Pieter glanced up for the first time since they'd arrived home. His brow creased intensely, but couldn't mask the sorrow hidden behind his reddening eyes. "You hear '-Polciek-'_this, and'-Polciek-'_that being shouted by people throwing rocks and charging police... Forgive me, but I don't think it takes a rocket scientist to figure out just what or _who_they're unhappy about."

Erik sagged forward, peering down to his clasped paws.

"Look, I'm sorry," Pieter croaked, waiting until his silence earned back an audience before adding, "It's not your fault... I shouldn't take it out on you."

"It's okay... If I'm honest, what happened today... It has me worried about what's to come, also."

"Really?" His ears tucked even further. "What do _you_think is coming?"

Erik's focus returned to his tightly wound paws. "I'm worried about what might happen if the worst happens and the election goes the way of those that would prefer Polcians weren't here. I've always hoped that people would see sense, understand that the problems they have won't be solved as if by magic by forcing you all away." His hands parted to support his increasingly hanging head. "All these pro-VPU protests, not to mention today's violence, makes me think that might be too much to ask."

"_You_can't change how things are."

"I know... and it's _that_that annoys me most of all." Erik adjusted himself aggressively, forcing Pieter to throw out his paws to steady his balance. "All I can do is vote against them, hope that they don't get into power... and hope that somehow things get better."

"Do you think things _will_get better?"

The ticking clock above the darkened television set returned, with Erik taking no action to stop it reclaiming the room.

"We cannot stay here any longer... we just can't."

"What?" he yelped, whipping his head round to peer back down to his side. "You don't want to stay here with us any longer?"

"No, I mean... Well, yes." Pieter huffed, posture wilting. "What I'm trying to say that we need to leave Velika. We need to get away, go home as soon as we can and get back to a place where we don't have to worry so much about the future." He choked out another heavy breath, this time managing a smirk. "You know, that's the same reason I brought us all here in the first place. How times change."

Erik's lip stang from the biting of his own teeth, but not as much as the wrenching of his heart. If there'd been any possible way for him to change things, to flick a switch and make his guests feel as secure in the outside world as they did here in his home, he'd have done it in an instant. Of course, things seldom come that easy. "You know I'll do everything I can to help you get there."

Pieter managed to shine a smile up at him, though it didn't last long against his ever darkening expression.

Sleep, it seemed, would come at a premium for Erik that evening; his tossing and turning relentless enough to send his covers falling to the floor twice before the clock struck 1am.

Reaching down to gather them back up from the darkness, his tired, aching eyes were still quick to find the home he'd provided his guests across the room. All three tiny beds lied motionless inside; their occupants sound asleep.

Erik pulled his covers back around him, settling down into his pillow in the hope of joining them. Despairingly, just like it had done the entire evening, the unending chattering of his conscience outweighed his exhaustion.

"Damn it," he groaned under his breath, kicking off his sheets to sit up and slide to the edge of the bed. "At least you guys can rest... Only fair considering everything you've been through, I guess."

Slowly, Erik heaved himself up onto his feet, keeping his steps soft as he padded over to settle down outside their room. He sat there for a good few minutes, watching over Pieter and his family as they slept in safety.

"Erik?"

He shifted to gaze down at the bed nearest the open side of the toaster box shelter, finding Thijs' small, slender frame stirring. "Hey."

"Is that you?"

"Yeah," Erik chuckled gently, moving his head a little closer. "It's me."

"What's up?"

"Oh... nothing. I just can't sleep. Figured I'd make sure you're all okay."

Thijs nodded slowly, eyes opening completely. "Don't wanna go school tomorrow."

"I know that feeling." He kept himself looking cheery, easily able to tell that Thijs' apprehension came from something other his usual distaste for school. "I don't want to go to work, but we both have to sadly."

The muted groan that earned prompted Erik to get even closer, setting a spotted paw down at Thijs' bedside.

"Why do Velikans hate us so much, Erik?"

His jaw fell open, a sad sigh escaping his hanging mouth as he reeled from the question. "W-We don't, Thijs... Not all of us."

"Sure feels like it sometimes. Don't understand why."

"Some people... you see, they like to find something, or someone, to blame things on. They aren't happy with the truth, so they invent their own instead."

Little Thijs' perplextion cut through the darkness, drawing Erik into giving a toothy smile. "What I mean to say is... Not all of us are nasty. Some Velikans, like me, actually _like_Polcians, you know?"

"I know _you're_nice at least." Slender arms emerged from beneath the bedcovers, squeezing softly around a section of Erik's wrist. "Ya mom, too."

"That's something at least." He reached down with his other paw, nursing Thijs out of bed and up towards his muzzle. "I just hope that one day you can meet some others that prove me right."

"That'd be nice, I s'pose." The youngster's slow wagging tail batted Erik's fingers as he squeezed against his nose. "Right now, I just wanna go back to Meerland. Back to my town, my old school and my other friends. Too many people are mean to us here... Imma miss you and your mom a whole lot, but I sure won't miss all the jerks."

Erik's gentle exhale blasted through the lighter brown fur of Thijs' chest and belly. "I understand." His fingers coiled to press his tiny friend into a delicate hug. "You'll be there before you know it."

"Ya think so?"

"I do." He peered down into those expectant little eyes, giving a nod before letting up his grasp. "For now, we need to get you back into bed. Don't want you too tired for school."

"I guess... Still don't wanna go."

"I know," Erik snorted, delicately placing him back down onto his bed. "I don't there's anything I can say or do to change that I'm afraid." He took Thijs' blanket between finger and thumb, pulling it up over the youngster as he wriggled for comfort. "I'll see you in the morning, okay?"

"Okay. G'nite, Erik."

"Goodnight." He ruffled the fur between his ears with a finger, shifting to prepare to stand.

Before the final push came, Erik caught another movement from within the miniature bedroom.

Looking back, he found Anika sat upright in her bed behind Thijs, silently glaring up at him. He'd long since become accustomed to her long, piercing gazes, but the bright smile shining through the darkness came as something of a shock.

Erik gave a small wave to her in response, one that she readily returned before he rose up to his full height.

His mouth quickly began to ache from the sheer size of his grin; one that lasted until long after he'd shuffled back across the room and climbed back into bed. He slipped beneath his covers, finding their warmth far more welcoming than a mere matter of minutes before.

Still, even after succeeding in reassuring Thijs, and even after he'd achieved something of a breakthrough with Anika, Erik couldn't stop the tail-twitching chatter carrying on relentlessly inside his head.

"Gods damn it." He jabbed out his shoulder, rolling onto his side with such speed that he almost sent not only his covers to the floor, but himself along with them. He looked past the silhouette of the alarm clock atop his bedside table, straight back to where Thijs, Anika and their parents slept peacefully. "There's no other way, is there?"

Erik shuffled towards the edge of his bed with a little more care this time, reaching down to grab his laptop from beneath it.

"I wish there was, but..." Its screen illuminated the room in a ghostly white as he booted it up, enough to start a faint rustling from inside the cardboard bedroom. He quickly shifted over in his bed, limiting the glow hitting that area of the room as he placed his fingers to the keyboard. "Can I really do this?"

A few taps and clicks later, Erik reached and logged into the website he'd sought after.

'Bank of Zelengorod. Welcome, Mr. Erik Lukin.'

He scrolled down the page, presenting himself with the information he needed.

'Account balance: Kr903.18'

And, below that still, came the reminder of what left him uncertain.

'My Saving Goals. #1 - Money for Bolstrovo: Kr1200.00'

"Two, three more months... and I could leave," he muttered, massaging two fingers across his temple. "I could afford a deposit on an apartment... leave enough to help Ma until she finds a proper job."

Of course, Erik knew that his plan relied on Alexei being able to get him into Bolstrovo. Without a job offer in place at his new workshop, he knew only too well that he'd never be allowed to settle there.

"It_did_ sound like things are getting better for him... He could be ready to hire me again by the time I have the money to go." The light of his laptop shone against his growing smile. "Just a few more months, I'm certain."

It didn't take long for that sparkle to fizzle and fade away. Erik's conscience pulled his focus back to where his guests slumbered. Guests essentially trapped here against their wishes, unable to afford the trip back home to where they increasingly believed they belonged. A belief perhaps shifting ever faster towards becoming a fact.

Erik's head dropped back down to his pillow like a stone. He grimaced and squealed, throwing his balled fists to his face. He could confirm to himself what he'd suspected earlier that evening: that sleep would indeed come at a premium.