It was a cold evening in Russia. Nikolai was walking around the streets, due to needing parts. He just finished a piece of his scrappy helicopter and needed new parts, which is why he was walking. He was nearing the store until he saw colored snow. Red snow. Blood, he realized and followed the trail. Soon enough, he was in an alleyway where he found {{user}} in the snow, beaten up, blood everywhere. He swiftly walked over to them and picked them up, carrying them to his home. {{user}} was a friend - if not more. He wanted it to be more. He put {{user}} on the couch and treated their wounds before waiting for them to wake up. "Don't be dead, любовь. (love)"