Everything was black.

At first, Natalya couldn't be sure if she was dreaming. She certainly felt weightless, her mind and physique in two different planes of existence. Then her body felt heavy. So strangely heavy. Her chest was tight, her lungs working hard to fill with air. Opening her eyes, she began to cough as she inhaled a cloud of dust.

She was in the coal pile.

As she moved, her hand seared with pain. She tried to clutch it to her chest, but she couldn't pull it through the rubble.

A sudden burst of light seared her eyes, blurry faces just visible against the cloudy sky. Each of her body parts began to feel lighter as more and more coal was scrabbled away from her. When her hand was free she knew she screeched; the cry burned her throat. But she couldn't make it out through the shrill ringing in her ears. Her head felt odd, the pain blunt. Not like in her hand, which was pure agony; her head was just dull. Teeth gritted, she cupped her aching hand with her able one, managing to support it as hands tucked under her armpits and tugged her from the pile.

'Natalya?' the voice was low and clouded, like she was under water. 'Can you hear me?'

'Yes,' she managed to reply, though it made her cough. Coal dust clung to her tongue. Hacking up a large wad of spit, she spat it on the ground, leaning against the hand that propped her up.

Andros' face loomed over hers, her focus clear enough that she could see how worried he looked. 'Can you see me?'

'Yes,' she rasped. 'Ridiculous moustache and all.'

Breathing a sigh of relief, Andros bowed his head for a moment. 'She's fine. Where's the other one?'

'Anastasia?' Natalya asked, trying to peer at the mess she'd been dragged from.

'Sit still,' said Andros, holding her in place. 'She's being dug out as we speak.'

'I'm fine,' insisted Natalya, shaking her head as if to clear her mind and prove it. That was a mistake. Nausea swirled in her gut, the world going dark again for a moment.

'You fucking idiot,' sighed Andros, scooping her into his arms.

Natalya's head lolled onto his shoulder, her eyes fluttering as he lifted her up and carried her a little way from the carnage. She caught glimpses of Anastasia being hauled from the mass, a group of workers huddled near her with curious expressions.

A rush of expletives left Natalya's mouth when Andros set her on the floor again. The bump of it had moved her arm and the pain burned.

'Here,' he said gruffly. 'Ambulance is on its way.'

Metal collided with her lips, Natalya opening her eyes enough to inspect. It was his water canteen. Greedily, she began to gulp.

'Slowly!' he barked, pulling it away from her.

Gasping, Natalya tried to cross her legs and sit up. She was careful with her wrist, making sure it was comfortable before she tried to open her eyes properly.

Andros' face hung over hers as he thoroughly inspected her.

'Would you stop doing that?' Natalya snapped.

'I think you're concuss,' he said with a grumbling sigh. 'Trust you to be the one to get tangled up in a coal spill.'

Ignoring him, Natalya focused on the coal pile again. A shattered wooden sled lay next to the wreckage, far from the end of the taboggan track where it should be if it had slipped.

This wasn't an accident.

'Masha,' spat Natalya.

'She's all right. She wasn't hit.'

'No,' said Natalya, grabbing the lapel of his coat. 'She did it. She pushed that taboggan onto us.'

With a furrowed brow, Andros looked back and inspected the evidence for himself.

Following his gaze, Natalya could see Masha now, trying to hide amongst the gathering crowd. 'I'm telling you, Andros, she fucking did it.'

'For her sake I hope not,' said Andros, then hastily shut up.

One of the male prisoners had Anastasia in his arms, carrying her over to them with large, thundering strides. 'I think she's unconscious,' he garbled, laying her in front of them.

Her body was limp and lifeless, a nasty crimson gash over her right temple.

'Is she breathing?' asked Natalya trying her best to get to her knees to inspect for herself. A woozy drunk like feeling swept through her system, and she swayed back to her slumped position.

Andros leant over Anastasia, his ear over her lips. 'Yeah, she's breathing. Poor little thing probably got a particularly big chunk to the head.'

Natalya hung her head, breathing in heavily through her nose and out through her mouth. At least Anastasia was alive. That was something. Though in her current state, it was hard to tell if it was any sort of consolation.

Not everyone that got knocked out woke up again. Micha had been very clear on that when he'd told her about their days stuck in Stalingrad. If a piece of debris hit you in the right place, it would render you a simpleton for good. He'd seen it happen.

Had Masha known that when she'd tipped the sled on them? Or did that petty suka just not care either way.

Teeth gritted, Natalya tried to quell her temper. Anything more than a calm breath in and out made her want to vomit. She could do nothing to Masha.

Yet.

When Andros tapped her shoulder, she realised he had been speaking to her. 'What did you say?'

'Ambulance is here,' he said. 'You dozed off again for a moment there.'

'No I didn't,' she protested.

Andros ignored her and hauled her into his arms again.

Natalya roared in pain. 'Watch the hand!'

He carried her towards the ambulance, Anastasia now loaded onto a rickety gurney and thrust in its belly.

'No room,' said the nurse in the back, holding her hand up to Andros.

'But she's injured too! She can't walk.'

'She's awake. That's enough,' barked the woman, shutting one door before she shooed Andros back further. 'She'll have to get herself there when she's ready.'

'Seriously?' he cried, but the other door was slammed in their faces before the ambulance pulled away. Grumbling, Andros turned to another guard who had followed him. 'You're in charge. See if you can get hold of Grigori Demyanovich and tell him what's happened. Dmitri Ivanovich will want to deal with that Masha of his.' He spat her name like an expletive.

Nodding, the young guard scurried away.

Andros turned to the other workers. 'Back to work you lazy zeks!' he yelled.

His words clanged in Natalya's head, like a hammer on an anvil. 'Not so loud, you great lout.'

Hoisting her up, Andros set off towards the camp.

'I'll walk,' insisted Natalya as she wriggled in his firm grasp.

'By all means.' Andros set her down, steadying her as best he could.

Arms out to balance herself and with a deep breath, Natalya tried to take a step. Immediately, she toppled straight back into his arms.

'You're such an idiot,' sighed Andros, picking her up and cradling her.

Natalya's eyes hooded again as he tried to catch her gaze, black spots spattering across her vision.

'Eyes on me,' he ordered, setting off at a steady pace. 'Don't fall asleep.'

'You say it like I can help it,' slurred Natalya, resting her head on his shoulder.

They remained in silence for a little way, Natalya concentrating on Andros' steady breath that spurted from his nose in rhythmic puffs.

'You're heavier than you look,' he grunted, adjusting his grip on her. 'Like a little brick.'

'Well, I appreciate the ride,' she murmured.

Chuckling, he glanced down at her. 'That sounded like a thank you.'

'I'm injured. Don't get used to it.'

'Never.'

Her body swayed with his steps, the rush of air against her cheeks surprisingly soothing. She looked to the sky, greying clouds making their journey across the barren blue waste. With the coal mines but a distant nuisance, it was almost easy to pretend she was somewhere else entirely. It couldn't be her forest grove; there was something mechanical and unsettling in the air around them that was too imperfect to be her woodland wilderness. It could be Moscow, though. This might be nothing more than her journey to work on a chilly April afternoon.

'I said no sleeping,' said Andros, shaking her to dispel her drowsiness.

After a stretching amount of time, Natalya recognised the camp gates as they passed through them.

'This one get too mouthy then, Andros?' laughed the guard on duty.

'Sounds about right,' returned Andros, but didn't lose his pace.

Finally, Natalya was going to get to see the hospital from the inside.

Andros doubled his pace, grunting through the extra effort. Using his back, he pushed through the double doors of the hospital, allowing them to swing shut behind him. Natalya's nose wrinkled the moment they were enclosed within its hold. It smelt of death in here; not decay, but that sweet, last breath of life before its snuffed out.

There was a pokey reception desk with a chunky, frowning nurse manning it. She gave them no more than a passing glance, then went back to her book. Other than that, there were a few dishevelled chairs opposite the desk. The entirety of the lobby took no more than a few seconds to thoroughly peruse.

Setting Natalya down on the chairs, Andros steadied her against the wall. 'How are you feeling?' he asked, his eyes running over her to check.

Squinting, Natalya studied him in turn. 'Did you know one of your eyes is bigger than the other?'

Huffing, Andros held her head steady as it tried to loll again. 'Fuck sake.'

'Only slightly though,' mumbled Natalya. Her head was pounding again, as though she could feel the blood coursing through her veins.

'Nurse,' said Andros, his voice a nasty punch to Natalya's subconscious. 'Can you go and find Kaleena Chlebek?'

Sighing, the nurse rose to her feet, slamming her book down on the desk. 'What do you want with krasotka?'

Wow. Even the nurses called her that.

'She'll want to know this one's here,' said Andros. 'Give me the paperwork and I'll get it sorted while you do.'

Muttering to herself, the nurse handed him a clipboard and hurried off through another set of double doors, leaving the pair in the eery silence.

Budging Natalya along the seat, Andros sat next to her and allowed her to lean against him. 'Right, full name?'

'Natalya Dmitryevna Morozova.'

'Age?'

'26. I think.'

Andros looked down at her. 'You think?'

'Yeah, I don't think it's been my birthday yet.'

'Well, that's the next question.'

'July 13th1924.'

'Natalya, it's the end of April. Why would you think it's your birthday?'

Shrugging, Natalya giggled. 'Who knows?'

Andros started cursing under his breath in an entirely different language that was likely Polish, his pen scribbling loudly over the paper. 'Prison number?'

Natalya tapped at the crude numbers painted on her jacket.

'1A-583.' More scribbling. 'Reason for visit?'

'Some suka pushed a load of coal on me.'

'Concussion,' he sighed, also noting that down.

'And a crushed hand.'

Andros looked it over. 'Yeah that looks utterly fucked. It's blue.'

That was not what Natalya wanted to hear.

'The rest all looks like it needs to be filled in by a Doctor.'

'Don't they want my home address?' teased Natalya as she tried to sit up more on her own.

That actually earned her a small huffy laugh from Andros.

'Stop laughing. Anyone would think you enjoy my company,' said Natalya, using his arm to steady herself completely.

'Can't remember your own birthday but can continue to be a complete smartarse.'

'It's one of my many talents.'

There was a small, peaceful pause. 'I do enjoy your company actually,' said Andros.

Natalya snorted. 'Idiot.'

Before he could retort, the inner doors to the hospital opened and Kaleena came barrelling out.

On sight of the pair, Kaleena let a flurry of fevered Polish tumble from her lips, her tone heavy with concern as she came to crouch in front of Natalya. She took Natalya's cheeks, smoothing over them with her thumbs as she inspected her eyes.

Andros began to answer Kaleena in her native tongue, his deep voice suddenly so soft and soothing. Natalya side eyed him, watching with interest as he assured Kaleena. She had never heard it dip like that. Not once. His expression was so warm, as though he were an artist and Kaleena his beautiful muse.

'Can you two lovebirds speak in Russian? All this sweetness makes me want to vomit.'

'See what I mean?' huffed Andros. 'Still her old self, but she sounds drunk.'

'She's definitely concuss,' sighed Kaleena. 'And that thumb looks fractured.'

'You can't tell that just by looking,' said Natalya.

Lightly, Kaleena took her hand. 'This is going to hurt.'

'What is-' Natalya was cut off by Kaleena digging her thumb into the back of her hand. 'Suka!'

'Oi!' spat Andros. 'She's trying to help you.'

'It's all right.' Kaleena continued to dig despite Natalya's protestations. It was as though something was grating together beneath her skin. 'Crepitus,' she said triumphantly. 'That and your thumb is bending too far to the right. A splint should fix it well enough.'

Grumbling, Natalya snatched her hand back and cradled it to her chest.

'Can you stand, Natalya?'

'She thinks she can,' cut in Andros. 'I had to carry her here.'

'You carried her all this way?' asked Kaleena in a slight gasp. Perhaps she had been lying about her feelings towards Andros. There was something there; a deep rooted and passionate spark. Even in her current state, Natalya could tell.

'Couldn't leave the little brick out there now, could I?' he said with a slight chuckle.

Kaleena took his hand and gave it a squeeze. 'Thank you so much.'

Andros couldn't conjure a response, just staring at their hands like it was the greatest gift he'd ever received.

Clearing her throat, Natalya sat forward. 'Did you know one of his eyes is bigger than the other?'

More Polish profanities left Andros' mouth, his thunderous gaze locked on her.

Chuckling, Kaleena supported Natalya as she wavered. 'Still handsome though.'

Natalya couldn't help but snort as a blush spread over Andros' usual scowl. 'Am I allowed to sleep now?'

'Not yet, tsvetochek,' said Kaleena. 'Andros, do you think you could carry her up to a bed for me?'

'Of course,' he said, immediately swooping Natalya into his arms as Kaleena got to her feet.

'Ow!' cursed Natalya as her head whipped back and her broken hand jolted. 'She's already impressed, Andros. Be fucking gentle.'

'Definitely not a flower,' said Andros as he followed Kaleena into the depths of the hospital.

'That's what I said,' agreed Kaleena from the front. 'I think she's some kind of fierce animal. Maybe a wolf?'

'Or a viper?' smiled Andros.

'Or a bear,' mumbled Natalya sleepily.

There was a pregnant pause. 'I like that,' said Kaleena. 'A little bear. A .'

A dopey grin spread across Natalya's face. 'Yakov would love that,' she whispered, the edges of her gaze going dark.

'Whose Yakov?' asked Andros as they began to ascend stairs.

Natalya simply shrugged and made a small noise. She really was so tired.

'No, medvezhonok,' snapped Kaleena, clicking her fingers over Natalya's eyes. 'Stay awake. Tell us about Yakov.'

'He's in the woods,' Natalya managed, trying with all her might to focus on the dingy white walls of the stairwell.

'Was he from your time in lumber?' Kaleena asked.

'He was my time in lumber,' said Natalya, aware once again of how desperately dry her throat was. 'He was the carpenter I worked for. He taught me to speak to the stars.'

'Oh fuck, this concussion is worse than I thought,' grumbled Kaleena.

Andros chuckled. 'The stars and the spirits?'

'Don't encourage her!' hissed Kaleena.

'Stars and spirits,' said Natalya, the memory of Yakov making her cosy in Andros' embrace.

'How did you-' began Kaleena.

'He was a shaman then,' cut across Andros, answering Natalya and Kaleena at once.

'Yes, but you can't tell anyone,' said Natalya. 'He was the great bear of the woods. My starikan.' Her words grew claggy in her throat. 'He's still out there. Buried in the earth.' Eyes screwed shut, tears spilled down her cheeks as a high pitched ringing reverberated through her mind. 'I wish I was there with him.'

'Don't cry,' said Andros, hitching her up his body a little more as they made it to the last step. 'Can't you reach out to him?'

'I find it hard without my bear. That kozyol Grigori stole it.'

Andros huffed. 'Well, I'm sure Yakov taught you how to talk to him regardless. You just need to find the will.'

'He sent me to you,' said Natalya as they went through another door. 'Kicked me in the backside and sent me to the end of your gun.'

'Gun?' said Kaleena, her tone high pitched.

'Just a precaution,' assured Andros hurriedly. 'The little koketka turned up in the middle of a random field.'

'Sounds about right,' said Kaleena. 'Put her on that bed there for me.'

Gently, Andros lay Natalya down, careful to ease her head onto the pillow. 'There you are, medvezhonok. Try to stay out of trouble.'

Waving her good hand, Natalya rolled onto her side to get comfortable.

'Oh no you don't,' managed Kaleena as she caught her and rolled her back onto her back. 'We have tests to run.'

Slowly, Natalya let her eyes open. She was in a long, sparse ward with no windows and only one door that they had just entered through. Every wall was dirty with grime, the white paint almost yellow where any cleaning that had taken place had just smeared the stains across its surface. It looked more like a makeshift bomb shelter than it did a hospital.

'Thank you Andros,' said Kaleena. 'You can go back now, I've got her.'

'Let me know how she gets on,' he said with a nod, his eyes lingering on Kaleena before he scurried away.

With a long, loud sigh, Kaleena hovered over Natalya. 'Let's get to work.'