Nischa Oneshots

Remember me though I have to say goodbye (TW) (REQUEST)

MISCHA FINDS OUT HIS MOTHER IS DEAD

TW: death, mention of suicide

REQUESTED BY: xmeladiex on a03

(I also apologize if Mischa seems to randomly change emotions thats just how I grieve so I decided to dump it onto him too)

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Mischa always believed his mother, Tamara, was alive. Sure, she may have been extremely sick when he last saw her, but that didn't diminish the hope that she was still out there.

Then, when she was better, Mischa would fly back to Ukraine with his boyfriend, Noel. He would have the two biggest lights in his life meet. She would love Noel. And Noel would love her.

Mischa and Noel would start a family, and Tamara would be a phenomenal grandmother. She would hand-make their kids mini dolls just as she had done when Mischa was a baby.

That was the plan, right?

That was at least what Mischa thought. But when his foster parents slid an envelope under his door that was from a funeral parlor in Ukraine, his heart, along with his plan, immediately shattered. His body went numb. His head pounded. He could feel tears beginning to form in his eyes

He knew exactly what was in the envelope.

He stumbled over to his bed, staring at the fancy cursive writing in black pen on the front of the envelope. It stated his name and address, along with the address of the funeral parlor.

Mischa sat on the edge of his bed and placed the envelope to the side.

He couldn't open it. Not alone, at least.

He did the first thing he thought to do: call Noel. Mischa raised the phone to his ear as his leg bounced up and down. Noel picked up on the fourth ring.

"Misch!" Noel exclaimed. Mischa could practically hear the smile on his boyfriend's face, which made him slightly relax.

"C—can you come over?" Mischa asked. He heard Noel's breath hitch at the sound of his shaking voice.

"Yeah—yeah..." Noel mumbled. Mischa could hear rustling in the background. "Is everything okay?"

"Just come over," Mischa muttered, his eyes drifting back to the envelope. He subconsciously bit down on his bottom lip and grimaced when the metallic taste of blood coated his tongue.

"I'm on my way," Noel said. Mischa heard the sound of a car door closing on Noel's end.

"Thank you," Mischa mumbled. He clicked the end call button and flung his phone across the room, overcome with a sudden burst of rage.

"Fuck!" He screamed, falling back onto his bed. Above him, he heard the sound of a broom handle slamming against the floor, which was his foster parent's way of telling him to shut up without having to speak to him.

The next thing he knew, he was throwing items all around his room in an exhaustible rage. He picked up a framed picture of him and Noel off his dresser and flung it at the wall, watching as the glass shattered and the picture slowly fell to the floor.

He picked up another picture that was next to the image of Noel and him. Mischa looked down at the picture—it was a photo of him and his mother right before he boarded the plane for Canada. All he could see was red as he lifted his arm, preparing to chuck the picture against the wall.

That was when he was interrupted by a knock on the sliding glass door. He turned his head to the door, where he made eye contact with a wide-eyed Noel.

Mischa had the same expression. He slowly lowered his arm, maintaining eye contact with Noel. He placed the picture back onto the dresser and slowly walked over to the door.