A/N: THIS IS A REPOST FROM MY ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN ACCOUNT. I might as well post most of the stories associated with this series on this site, seeing as I already have two on here.

As always, nothing here is meant to relate to real events etc... Everything is self-indulgent.

Ivan sighed as he awoke once more to the cold metal walls of his room. All the room was missing were bars and chains. Indifference moved him to get out of the covers in order to walk languidly across the room to his desk. Sometimes, even when all you had to do was get up, it still drained all of your spirit doing so. It was probably the room.

Posters of various bolded empire slogans were splattered across the wall. One of them (all of them) starred a sweet face, a gentle smile with fine blond hair. Indigo watched him. His own eyes, the darker shades of purple, traced the strong bolded letters along the bottom.

"Why would you want to fight against me?"

Ivan snorted. He had thought of the idea himself and it still sounded ham-fisted.

The incessant hum of the electronic security system ran in the background. He groaned as he stretched out all of his muscles and shook out the last remnants of sleep. Once he got off his bed, it folded up automatically and slid into the wall. His work desk replaced it soon after. An electronic screen began to fizzle as it popped out of its slot. An eager face appeared on it.

"Morning Vanya!"

"Morning, Alfred," Ivan said softly. He gave a gentle smile to the other on the screen. The blond returned with his empty brash grin.

It sometimes hurt to do this everyday, knowing that the other was barely there despite the smile. Maybe he will get through to him, Ivan tricked himself into believing again today. He hadn't for years. Still, he had to keep hope for the both of them.

Alfred then began to ramble off about today's news and his own schedule. Ivan barely tuned in. His mind wandered back to the old childish rants the other used to spout. He pressed away on his keyboard, shrinking the chat window on his screen. The man then began to search through his files for his work.

Among the things he missed hearing about were those video games, movies, and heroes. Impossible questions lined up with imaginative dreams. So complex, yet simple in the heart. Now, it was all about weapons, experiments, and yet another way to efficiently get rid of those disdainful scum that tainted his brother's empire. Kill them all. Such, was more tiresome to hear.

He gave an indifferent hum to make the other believe that he was still avidly listening. As much as he liked Alfred being passionate and aggressive, there was only so much of this he could take, heart and all. He kept at it though, pausing when appropriate, again to keep the other happy.

Stable.

Then, finished with checking his folders, Ivan stopped typing at his keyboard and opened his desk drawer. Still, he gave another noncommittal response once in a while. In the drawer, he would find his tools. Pencils, rulers, paper. He slipped off their protective casings as he arranged them on his desk.

Perhaps he should be grateful he wasn't out there. Families, like his, were torn apart and destroyed. Relations, like his,were twisted around for another's goals. Worlds, like his, were shattered away into artificial places of 'sanctuary' from the war-torn wasteland. Then again, that's not to say his work didn't play any sort of role in these atrocities.

"Soo, how's your next project coming along?"

"Good," he replied as he nodded to the screen again. Another drawer was opened and Ivan pulled out the outline he completed last night.

Upon seeing it again this morning, Ivan decided he would start inking the prototype today and then get to observing the 'good citizens'. He hated working with those other officers. Cruel laughter outright possessed those men.

Much like Alfred, who was in charge of developing weapons for the empire, as an ex-nation he had his place.

Ivan's department was Propagan-er 'Morality' and general upkeeping of the Selfish-er 'Incentives for Progress System'. Not enough power to rebel, but enough power to experience guilt for what he was doing. Leave it to the puppet master to know how to set up his strings well.

Alfred went on talking and Ivan decided to try listening in again.

"-Honestly, I don't know why Matt put you in charge of that artsy junk. You would definitely be better in the technology department with me." He winked deviously, "Big guy, you do know your weapons."

Ivan felt himself blush a little, "I assure you, I am alright with my position." He frowned as he saw the other's smirk. His own reply kept cool, "Not like that Alfred."

A pout. "No fun," the younger blond replied.

"You should get back work. You have that meeting with the strategy leaders later, yes?"

Alfred rolled his eyes, "Yeah…yeah...See you later then, babe."

He grinned then blew a kiss to the screen. Ivan reached to 'catch' it and held it close to his heart. The other man fizzled out. The older man's shoulders then relaxed. He looked to his hands and sighed tiredly.

Enough of that, he scolded himself. He had work to get done.

After he made sure to tape the paper down, he pulled out his pen to begin working. Thick bolded outlines, dark contrasting shadows and eye catching palettes were a check. Make sure the message pounded into the heads of all of those who passed it. Minds should not be able to think about anything else.

And above all else, never make it look like death. Keep it happy. Pull people in with promises of betterment. Trick them into believing that there was freedom in what they do, twist the world around.

"Look out at the wasteland. Look at the savages."

Remind them that where they are in the best situation.

He placed the finished product into a brown folder. He would make some copies later. Ivan felt disgusted with himself as he stared at the covered poster. Perfect. Just the right feeling he should feel for his next task.

He buttoned up his Empire required uniform, red scarf included as the Empire's leader had decreed for him especially, and walked outside his room. Ivan glowered at the officer that greeted him outside.

"Braginsky, sir!" The human saluted and held out a black tablet, "Your agenda for today!"

He winced at their yelling, so early in the morning too. The rat always loved sending him the loud ones. "Thank you," he said as pleasantly as he could. The officer nodded and ran off quickly, shivering. Ivan shrugged.

"North American district?" he muttered as he skimmed his orders for the day.

Odd. Usually, the rat dealt with all the issues on that side of the world himself. Ivan smiled a little. Seems like the east was giving the rat more trouble than he had anticipated. He frowned. That would, however, mean that he had lot less time to finish up.

With a quick swipe, he looked over again the rest of the things he needed to complete. Then he tucked away the board into his inner coat. Tightly, he adjusted the scarf over his mouth to cover up his expressions. Time to spread misfortune.

Lunch came faster than he had expected. As he walked down the hall, he passed a familiar but not friendly face in an overly-stuffy military outfit.

"Ivan," the brunet acknowledged with a nod.

Ivan returned the nod politely, "Toris."

The wonders the rat's rehabilitation methods accomplished. The young man had wanted a strong strategy leader, familiar with the European methods. He got one.

At the very least, Ivan should be glad that their methods had never worked on him. Rather, it left a bitter taste in his mouth. Vividly, Ivan saw a flash of the events two years ago.

Soldiers surrounded them with their guns pointed. He was still bleeding from the last fight and Alfred had looked so confused. Ivan never had a chance to speak with him before they shoved him into that machine.

Then, the Alfred he knew was gone and Ivan was left alone to see the world for what it was. After getting his food, he searched around the packed cafeteria. No Alfred. He went to sit down at his small empty table in the corner. Somehow, it was always the quietest place to be in the cafeteria.

Badump. Badump.

He placed his hand on chest for a short moment.

Although it was impossible, Ivan swore he could almost feel the scarred bulge on his heart, where he had to implant the electronic chip that had saved his mind. The man lowered his hand and shook away the thoughts. He ate very quietly by himself.

Once he was finished, he headed towards the hangar where they kept the planes. Part of him debated whether or not to drop Alfred a visit before he left. The other's workshop would be right around the corner. The corners of lips lifted as he made his turn, taking the long way around. Oh, he just couldn't resist.

He let himself through the back and knocked rapidly at the door from the inside. He eyed Alfred's form near the center and then hurriedly ducked away.

"Who is it?" The man called out, not looking up.

Ivan took his chance to sneak up behind him. Only a step away, his head was quickly met by the cocking of a gun to his forehead.

"Babe, I love you but you know I don't like people barging in here while I'm working."

Ivan huffed. In spite of Alfred earlier procrastination, the younger man was in his working mood again. The silver haired man couldn't help but chuckle at the complete change since this morning. Attitude whiplash.

Sensing his threat was being dismissed, the blond pushed the gun closer, "I will blast your brains across this floor."

"Would you now?" Ivan teased.

"I will bury you six feet under and then bring you flowers everyday." The blond sighed, turning slowly. Not lowering his gun at all. "Sunflowers, of course."

"And wild country roses for you."

A smile crawled onto the other's face, "What do you want?" At last, he lowered his weapon and placed it back where he pulled it out.

"Nothing. I am simply letting you know that I am leaving for the Empire's central states."

North America. Your home.

Alfred grimaced, "How long?"

Ivan tilted his head, "Why? Are you going to miss me?"

Instead of speaking, Alfred gestured for him to come forward. Ivan leaned down but then suddenly he felt a spark of pain in his arm. Automatically, he swung his arm to punch back but his hand was caught, inches away from the other's jaw.

"You'll get one when you get back."

Ivan pulled back his fist away and crossed his arms, "A punch or a kiss?"

There was a wink and then the blond turned back to his worktable "Now shoooo! I've got things to work on, remember?"

The older man wished him luck and strolled to the exit. Just before he turned the knob, he paused. He looked back. A thought suddenly appeared on his tongue, a plea sprouted from his mind. Swiftly, he turned around to speak-

Please, come with me.

-But he didn't and walked out.

Thousands of miles away in a plane, Ivan went through his folders and notes to see what he needed to do. The country was so familiar and foreign to him, more than it ought to be. He turned his head to the window. Pure white clouds floated past as the plane flew through them, a background to that bright clear sky. The silver-haired man sighed as turned away and leaned back into his seat. His bones felt heavy here too.