This is an idea that's been stuck in my head for awhile now. Then it expanded into a monster too big to just toss out. Most of the show has been changed, and there's plenty of violence and pain and betrayal.

Like always, hope you enjoy and don't forget to check me out on archive of our own under the same name.

The door opened, slammed shut.

Victor glanced up from his spot on the couch, Makkachin still snoring softly from where he was curled up underneath Victor's legs. The poodle didn't even flinch at the noise- a true testament to just how frequently Yuri's moods struck him- as Victor lazily flipped to the next page of his book.

From the quick glimpse he saw, Yuri looked like he normally did. The plastic rings in the store bags were looped around his thin arms as he moved from living room to kitchen. He was stomping his feet- which was strange- and hadn't taken his shoes off at the door- which was wrong.

"How was the grocery run?" Victor asked casually, book still open in his hands but he was no longer paying any attention to what the words said.

Yuri didn't reply, and that was when Victor realized something serious was bothering the youth. Yuri never missed the opportunity to throw some sort of insult or remark about how useless Victor was at the older man. Victor never took any offense to it, still remembered the day the greatest superhero of all time showed up at his doorstep with a prudent ten-year-old child trailing behind him.

"This is Victor," Nikolai had informed the child not unkindly, "He's going to take care of you from now on."

Yuri had just nodded at the time, small hands still squeezing at his grandfather's sleeve as he asked in a small tentative voice, "You'll come back for me soon though, right?"

Nikolai had nodded, ruffling pale hair before planting a kiss somewhere amongst it and promised, "Soon."

Soon came and soon went.

Nikolai never returned.

He was still alive, of course, living somewhere in Moscow and from what Victor's heard it's gotten really bad. It wasn't a wonder why he wished to get his last living relative out as quickly as he had, but it still must have been hard for ten-year-old Yuri, who'd already lost both his parents to this lifestyle.

"Do you need any help?" Victor asked next because that felt a little more direct, and Yuri could only dodge him for so long.

The response Victor received was the sound of one of the bags tipping over before all of its contents spilled over the tabletop and onto the wooden floor. Yuri cursed softly, Victor setting his book on the table as he turned to see the kid crouched over the scattered oranges and potatoes as he gathered them in his arms.

"Yuri?" Victor inquired shifting from sitting to standing with the silent grace of a swan, but Yuri didn't acknowledge his presence as he grabbed another bag from under the sink to dump his burden in.

Something serious then, and that realization was enough to send something acidic to twist the insides of Victor's stomach. Dark images and even darker thoughts raced through Victor's brain for a moment before he swallowed, regaining his grasp on reality.

Yuri was fine- he made it back home to him. He was alive and relatively unharmed, though five years living with him Victor realized Yuri knew how to hide those sorts of things from him when he wanted.

He can't hide pain, though. It's the one thing Victor's always able to pick up on because the thought of Yuri hiding pain from him is enough to make Victor's vision whiten, and he's always afraid of what's waiting for him when his vision clears once more because pain means another person was involved. That someone else had caused harm to the teenager, and Victor sees people in peril all the time, but Yuri in danger awakens a terribly dark instinct burrowed away beneath the usual careless charm Victor carries with him.

Maybe that had been why Nikolai picked Victor five years ago when he could've chosen someone who wasn't like him- that didn't hold the same lifestyle he was obviously trying to keep his grandson in- and Victor wasn't sure if he liked the fact that he understood Nikolai on that perspective. That, in terms of rude teenagers, they were synchronized.

He couldn't imagine a life without Yuri in it, which was only part of the reason that when Yuri moved to open a cabinet to put the sugar in Victor snuck up behind him and captured his lithe frame. His fingers looped easily around his wrist- a concern if Victor hadn't seen the kid eat before- while his other hand pressed firmly against the side of Yuri's hip.

By some unforeseen nature, Victor was an openly affectionate person. It was perhaps one of the major factors on why Yuri was not, which was probably why the teenager thought that when Victor touched or held him that wasn't a hug it didn't mean much. It was just Victor being Victor- and though he's not technically wrong he's not correct on that assumption.

When Victor holds him like this he's checking places that's easy to cover up. When he holds the boy's hips he's not trying to seduce the kid into doing anything foolish or irresponsible with him but making sure no one else has either, and Yuri didn't flinch away like he was in pain or hiding anything.

He tensed, muscles constricting and not releasing, as he froze against Victor's touch. Victor didn't move, didn't release him, as he allowed himself to relax fractionally at the realization that Yuri wasn't upset because he'd been mugged on his way to the grocery store.

"What do you think you are doing?" Yuri growled enunciating each word with a hiss as Victor drew the body closer to him, burrowing his nose in the pale hair and reminding himself that the kid was there and safe and not physically injured- though that still left the mystery on what could be upsetting him.

He was still dressed in his school uniform so Victor supposed school could've been a major factor. Yuri didn't make friends easily, stood out because he looked more feminine than masculine. Victor did as well- had always used that to his advantage- but Yuri constantly tried covering it up which only made him stick out more.

Not to mention that he wasn't born, raised, or even had visited St Petersburg before they were suddenly dumped on each other, and outsiders stuck out- especially in high school where kids were unusually cruel and cliquish and new kids hardly ever lasted- and it wouldn't have been the first time Yuri came home angry about something trivial that happened.

This anger was different. This anger wasn't sporadic or childish- it was real, pulsing with the beat of his heart and making his eyes burn brighter than any star Victor's ever seen. Victor hated it- had seen it on victim's faces he's rescued, the ones that had given up hope on anyone finding them but refusing to be broken by their captors.

Yuri wasn't gone, and it didn't matter where someone would take him if they tried. Victor would rip all of Russia apart if that's what it took until he found the kid. He'd burn it down, despite his disdain for fire, and he wouldn't stop- wouldn't rest- until the kid was back with him. Then he'd make those who tried to take him pay, and it wouldn't come as a surprise if someone had to step in to stop him- so it was a really good thing Yuri wasn't gone.

He was still angry, and Victor was no closer at figuring out why though.

"Yura?" Victor murmured as he reminded himself that Yuri being there was real and whatever was troubling him Victor could fix- would fix even if it killed him- he just needed to figure out what that was.

Yuri twisted in his hold, and Victor knew if he really wanted to he could keep it. Then he'd be pining the kid against the counters, which he didn't want. He never wanted to force Yuri into anything, so Yuri escaped relatively easy.

Sea foam eyes sparkled back at him, narrowed and furious and worried about something Victor still didn't know. Victor didn't like that- any of it- and wished the teenager still didn't close him off when it came to things bothering him.

"What? Why are you looking at me like I killed your mutt? He's still sleeping where he always does," Yuri snapped flippantly, hands curling into fists around the countertop behind him as he pressed most of his weight against it as he tried getting as much distance between them as possible.

Victor huffed at the jab against Makkachin, never appreciated it when Yuri used him as a means to get at Victor but that was probably why he did it. It was also another sign that whatever had Yuri so upset was serious and definitely something Victor needed to know.

"First of all," Victor replied slowly making sure to phrase his words carefully, "Makkachin isn't a mutt. He's a pure bred and perfect in every single way," Yuri rolled his eyes but didn't offer any counter arguments, "and, secondly, I know when you're dodging my questions."

"What questions?" Yuri demanded sounding shrill and cornered as he curled his shoulders in on himself defensively, "You've only impeded me at putting away the groceries and smell my hair like a creepy weirdo."

Victor smiled at the kid- sad and soft and loving- as he inquired, "Would you like to start with how your day's been or do you just want to tell me what's bothering you?"

Yuri turned his head away as he admitted softly, "I punched the self-check-out machine because my stupid card maxed out again."

Victor's chest loosened because that was so painfully average. If it was anyone but Yuri he'd probably get angry too, making him worry about something so mundane.

"Take mine next time," he shrugged like it was nothing, but Yuri was already shaking his head so there was probably something he's still missing.

"Yours maxed out last week so I called the bank. We're broke, Victor, and grandpa's had to start going to the doctor to see about his back," Yuri explained, "Not to mention our bills and rent and the fact that winter is practically here, and the cold might not bother you but it definitely bothers everyone else."

Money.

Yuri was fifteen and worrying about money because Victor really sucked at this whole guardian thing- had grown too accustomed to being roommates and just that.

Before he got a chance to reply there was a loud piercing sound that echoed around the small apartment. Yuri's eyes flickered in the direction of Victor's room, face growing long and sad as realization filtered in.

"I can stay," Victor offered vaguely remembering some promise he made about a Disney marathon once Yuri came home from school and he deserved the chance to act like a child.

Yuri shook his head, eyes reflecting a sadness he'll never verbally admit is there, as he reminded in a soft whisper, "People depend on you. I washed your suit. It should be in your closest."

Victor reached out to ruffle Yuri's hair as he whispered softly, "I'll be home before dinner, and I'll place an ad for a new roommate tomorrow," before he moved away.

Yuri followed him, sputtering at the thought of sharing the place with another person and why couldn't Victor get a job like normal people? Except Victor wasn't normal and was the only hero St. Petersburg had and couldn't neglect all his responsibilities.

Only the ones that mattered, a small traitorous voice piped up from the back of his head and Victor spun around so he could capture Yuri against him.

"A new roommate can help with the bills and rent and food," Victor argued and he knew it was the most sensible answer but there were so many technicalities he wasn't even sure it was possible- but he'd continue being optimistic.

"We only have two rooms," Yuri shot back sounding furious, "Not to mention you literally have a secret double life. That's not something you can really hide."

"Those sound like tomorrow's problems for tomorrow's me," Victor chided before planting another kiss against the kid's temple.

Yuri was glaring at him from underneath his bangs, fists curling and uncurling, as he muttered darkly, "That sounds like you trying to get out of being an adult."

"I'm not. I promise," Victor reassured already moving away because the alarm was still ringing, but Yuri was watching him go with a sad expression and it all just seemed so wrong.

"I'll be here when you get back," Yuri finally just promised as he turned away and moved back to the kitchen and Victor swallowed, nodded before he allowed himself to slip into his bedroom.

He found his phone underneath a pile of clothes Yuri had left neatly folded on Victor's chair several days with the command for him to actually put it up. Now they were strewn and crumpled, and it was just another reminder on how Victor's failed at being the responsible adult Yuri deserved.

Robbery was flashing across the screen in bolded letters, and Victor almost crushed the phone in his hand. He forgot that, whenever Yuri leaves in the morning, he switched it over to alert him to minimum threat level. It was a habit he didn't want the teenager to know about- especially considering he picked it up after Yuri got attacked once going to the grocery store.

Now it was distracting him from his duties as Yuri's guardian, and he shivered at the thought of walking back in there to explain that Victor wasn't really feeling that particular thing so he forced himself to put on his outfit and mask and was out the fire escape in the span of five minutes.

He tried not to think about how he was leaving Yuri by himself while he was still tense about their money situation or how because of the career he chose he had to break yet another promise to the youth or how Yuri didn't even mention movie night because he knew Victor would've dropped it all if he'd only asked.

Sometimes it really sucked having an over mature fifteen-year-old teenager as a roommate while saving the world in his free time.

{…}

Victor didn't recognize the villain, but it obviously wasn't a normal robber the police could eventually track and throw away in a cell somewhere. He was short with black hair slicked away from pale features and eyes that smoldered with his ire- not that Victor processed any of that upon first glance.

All he saw was skintight spandex that stuck in all the right places as the figure shook a small brown bag filled with stolen diamonds with a broad smile stretched over his gorgeous features. Victor already hated him.

The figure- the villain, Victor supposed- was standing three roofs over from the jewelry store. From the street he was out of sight as he counted the poured out sample of the diamonds. They were small and reminded Victor of miniature ice cubes, and they sparkled wonderfully underneath the Russian sun. He hadn't seen Victor yet, was smiling way too smugly at his own cleverness.

"I do not think those are yours," Victor spoke up, watching as the man was on his feet and facing him within the span of a second; Victor continued to stare, arms crossed and face tilted to the side as if he was considering something.

Chestnut eyes took in Victor's frame before settling on his face and he inquired, "It's a little early for the Halloween party, and I'm not entirely sure most people will get it but A for effort."

Victor internally cringed at the jab. It wasn't that his uniform was anything spectacular but at least he wasn't wearing spandex.

"For your information," Victor corrected slowly stepping forward as he kept his gaze on the man before him, "I'm here to stop you. My name is Ice King."

The villain laughed.

His eyes were glimmering with dark humor as he used his free hand to try and smother the peals of laughter spilling out. Impossibly Victor found that even more irritating then when he'd insulted his costume.

"I'm so sorry," the villain apologized removing his hand and gathering himself once more before cocking his head to the side and explaining, "That's just the cutest thing I've heard all day. Ice King? What, did a five year old give you that name?"

Five year old Victor curled in the dark corners of the orphanage he'd been raised in whenever he lost control of the cold. The older boys had laughed at him then too- called him such mean and inappropriate names- before abandoning him like everyone else in Victor's life.

It hadn't been his fault. He never asked for his greatest curse, and when he'd been young and frightened with the cold as his only friend he'd settled on the name Ice King. He didn't know anything else- whether he'd be good or evil- but he decided firmly that that was going to be his name and people usually didn't laugh at it.

Victor took a step forward, hand outstretched in front of him, as he demanded in his best threatening tone, "Give me the diamonds or face the repercussions of the law."

The villain stopped laughing as he considered him for a long moment. His hip was cocked to the side as dark eyes continued to study him, and Victor was tired of all the staring.

He thrust his hand out further as he demanded on the verge of anger, "Give me. The. Diamonds."

A smile spread across the villain's face as something in his eyes changed and he brought the diamonds closer to himself as he goaded, "No."

Victor smirked- twisted and menacing and not at all heroic- as he took another step forward rolling his head and shoulders as he admitted in an almost flirtatious tone, "I was hoping you'd say that," because this was the reason he left a fifteen year old by himself in their modest apartment breaking yet another promise he's just going to pretend like he forgot about because that was easier and the cowards way out but no one ever accused Victor of being brave.

The villain was probably anticipating that remark as the next moment he was gone, leaping backwards and landing with a shocking grace on the next rooftop over. His muscles flexed underneath his spandex, and Victor found himself unable to look away.

"You want this little prince?" he teased shaking the bag of diamonds, the priceless rocks rattling in the bag before the villain tied the string to his belt and warned, "It's not going to be easy."

Victor leaped forward, and he was considerably older than others he's met but years of ice skating honed all his muscles and grace and it was almost too easy. The villain didn't look impressed. His eyes just sparkled like he'd finally found a good challenge.

"Fair warning," Victor spoke as he swung out with his leg towards the villain's head, "I never lose."

The villain danced back, catching Victor's ankle with the flat of his palm before twisting violently. Victor felt his other foot leave the ground as he was forced to roll with the motion. His fingertips started to tingle, and he had to suck in a deep breath as he landed with the grace of one of those cats in those videos Yuri forces him to watch.

Ice shot from his hand the moment his feet flattened on the roof. He got to relish in the brief moment of shock as he struck his target. The villain went down, ice crystals clinging to black fabric and dark hair and long eyelashes and somehow he looked even more erotic.

Victor straightened back up, staring down at the man with a cross between pity and disgust. That was until the villain suddenly burst out in loud cawing laughter.

"Oh this is just too good," he noted reaching up to brush the ice from his face, "A superhero with actual superpowers. I thought for certain that those were all extinct."

"You thought wrong," Victor shrugged because it came as a shock to a lot of people- especially considering those born with the natural ability of anything were usually shunned from society.

The man turned backwards on his hands, flipping with his hips before landing back on the balls of his feet. He was smiling, teeth glimmering and eyes sparkling and he looked dangerous- not that Victor was concerned.

"Well this is definitely a game changer," the villain noted as he placed his palms together.

Victor felt rather than heard a sharp ring as his stomach dropped and despair nearly overwhelmed him. He felt sick and confused and disoriented and he couldn't remember where he was or what he was doing or who he was with. It was a strange sensation- one he's never felt before- and then, suddenly, the villain was there swinging out with his leg.

Victor went to block but even he realized his movements were too sloppy. Too slow. And the back of the villain's foot connected with his side and he was sent toppling over.

He managed to catch himself, turning just in time to see the fist. That time he did manage to catch it, just out of sheer surprise and adrenaline, and his hold was released easily with a knee into his stomach. Victor coughed, felt something inside of him bruise, before he was shoved backwards.

Victor stumbled back, feet unsteady and head spinning in confusing circles, the back of his ankle catching the edge of the roof and something overtook him as he started downwards. Blue eyes widened in surprise, panic clawing its way up his throat and his mouth opened but nothing came out.

A hand caught the front of his suit, saving him at the last moment.

Two dark eyes peered back at him, that victorious smile already stretching over pale features. Victor wouldn't have been surprised if he could hear the way Victor's heart was thumping around inside his chest.

"Like that little prince?" the villain asked in a teasing tone and mocking smile, "You can go ahead and mark this day down as the day you were beaten by the Masked Phantom."

Victor wanted to scoff- to make fun at the ridiculous name- and not only did he run around in his high school theater tights but he had the gall to poke fun at Victor's name when he went around called something like that?

He didn't get the chance to voice any of that. Not when the hand suddenly disappeared and he went tumbling backwards, hands grappling for a hold on something, anything, before he went crashing into the dumpster beneath him.

Something squished under his weight as a liquid he'd rather not know the origin too oozed out from beneath him. He groaned, head spinning and vision swirling and his entire body was numb in a way that promised pain for him in the morning.

At least that eerie feeling had disappeared, clearing his mind enough that he could recognize the sensation as anxiety which was ridiculous because Victor Nikiforov most definitely did not have anxiety. Yet he knew that's what he'd felt, in the middle of battle, and if someone was truly capable of controlling others' emotions like that then his immediate stop should become priority.

"Oy! You in the dumpster!" an angry man's voice shouted, and Victor groaned again because could he not have peace for five minutes- he really needed to gather his breath.

He rolled over- followed by more squishing and squelching as Victor's stomach rolled at the possibilities of what he was laying in- and he caught sight of a pudgy man glaring at him from the alleyway. He was balding and old and almost embarrassingly ugly as beady black eyes glared up at him.

"What?" Victor demanded trying to keep his voice light and friendly despite the fact that the longer he was surrounded by trash the more agitated he got.

The man's eyes seemed to take him in to his fullest and he only seemed to grow more upset at what he saw.

"You're Ice Prince, aren't you?" the man demanded, and Victor cringed because he wasn't a prince regardless of what other people tried calling him; he was a king- strong and majestic and didn't bow down to anyone.

"Ice King," Victor corrected instead, moving to clamber out of the trash can except the bag he'd place his palm against for support imploded under the stress and he ended up face first in rotten fruit and discarded toys that seemed a little suspicious to Victor.

"Whatever," the man brushed off still sounding angry like he was the one surrounded by other people's filth, "Listen that man you just lost to stole my diamonds. I need them back or someone's going to pay."

"Of course sir," Victor nodded managing to re-gather himself enough to start back over the lip of the dumpster.

"That means that if I don't get them back then I'm charging you for them," the man clarified, and Victor's brain faltered enough that he miscalculated and ended up busting his butt on the concrete but at least he was out of the dumpster as he stared up at the man with a stunned expression, "What do you mean you're charging me? I didn't lose them."

The man pointed a pudgy finger in his face, and Victor had to resist the urge to swat it away like an upset toddler.

"They were right there," the man reasoned with more authority than he held at the moment, "and you lost them. There. You're responsible."

Victor did swat the finger out from his face then, rising to his feet. The man shrunk back slightly but Victor couldn't reason if that was because of his smell or if he managed to look threatening despite the fact that he was covered in garbage.

"I'll get you you're stupid diamonds back," Victor ground out but the villain- the Black Phantom- was already gone and Victor was dying for a shower and a week's worth of rest.

A hand caught his wrist on his way past and the man clicked his tongue at him once more as he chided, "You can't just leave. There's still police reports needed to be filled out. I was just robbed."

Victor gawked at him because there was no way he was serious but he was looking at him like he was and he wasn't letting go of Victor's wrist easily.

"No," Victor responded because he didn't want to- he wanted home and a shower and to cuddle with Makkachin as he read his book.

The man's face darkened as he demanded with surprising bravado, "Well you're a superhero aren't you? You're not above the law, and the law says that you need to fill out paperwork."

Victor opened his mouth to argue but knew there was nothing he could've said so he somehow ended up dressed in his light blue uniform smelling like a dumpster in the downtown precinct filling out so many paper's his hands were starting to cramp.

"There. I'm done," he declared slapping the clipboard of forms on the front desk, "Can I go now?"

The woman gave him a sympathetic glance as she sighed, "Oh honey, those weren't the incident reports. These are the incident reports you need to have filled out."

She brought out another clipboard from underneath her desk, and Victor bit back the urge to groan out loud. He just accepted the papers and his pen before making his way to the spot beside the diamond store manager who hadn't stopped babbling since they arrived, and it took everything Victor have to not continuous beat his head against the clipboard.

Today was unraveling into the worst one he's had in a while.

{…}

It was dark when he got out.

He groaned for what's felt like the millionth time in the last couple of hours. His hand was cramped and tight and he'd answered so many questions he didn't really know what his name was or if he was a witness, victim, or bystander. All he knew was there was a very long very promising shower waiting for him at home.

It was an almost thirty minute walk and since no one would stop to give him a ride he was stuck walking the entire way. The only consolation was that it wasn't hot, and he'd never been happier to see the bland building or plain wooden door- and it was a happiness that lasted all of five minutes.

Yuri was on the couch, curled up and sleeping in what looked to be an uncomfortable position. Strands of blonde hair dangled over pale features and he looked incredibly vulnerable whenever he slept. He was still dressed in his school uniform, Makkachin sprawled comfortably against his legs and Victor realized he must've stayed up waiting on him.

I'll be back before dinner, Victor had promised and he knew it was technically his fault this time but he still felt like an incredible failure all of a sudden.

Forgetting about the coveted shower he ended up sitting on the coffee table staring down at Yuri's lax features. Before- when Yuri first arrived- Victor would spend almost every night watching the kid sleep as he tried to figure out what he'd done to be burdened with such a loud and disrespectful brat.

He still didn't know, but his views had changed slightly. Yuri no longer looked like a burden but a gift and Victor couldn't think of anything grand or heroic that would've presented Nikolai into leaving his young grandson in his care. Whatever it was Victor wanted to know because nothing could convince him that he deserved the kid he'd repeatedly hurt and held a trail of more broken promises than Victor cared to admit.

"I'm sorry Yura," Victor breathed softly resisting the urge to touch the kid's hair and cheek, "I seem to keep forgetting how young you really are."

Yuri shifted at the sound of Victor's voice, causing the older man to tense as he watched and waited holding his breath. Bleary eyes blinked open as Yuri groaned and shifted before he sat upright fist rubbing at his eyes.

Then he was looking at him, and he wasn't wearing a pleasant expression.

"Victor, what the hell happened to you?" Yuri started before he gagged clamping both hands over his mouth and he hissed, "You smell repulsive."

"I've had a long day," Victor admitted rising to his feet suddenly self-conscious and yearning for that shower once more.

"Well you're stinking up the place," Yuri screamed at him swatting at his arms and torso and legs as he started shoving him out of the room, "Go shower. Now. My eyes are watering."

"Alright, alright, alright," Victor protested as the youth continued to forcefully shove him towards the small bathroom, "I'm going. I'm going. Can you-"

They made it to the bathroom with a final push and Yuri interrupted with a harsh, "No," before the door was slamming shut and Victor was finally surrounded by that blissful silence he'd yearned for the entire time he was forced to sit beside the most talkative victim he's ever had to deal with.

It suddenly felt very sad and incredibly lonely and Victor rubbed at his aching eyes, the smell finally getting to him.

When he finally exited the shower almost an hour and a half later there was a bowl of leftovers set on the kitchen table for him along with a glass of milk and Yuri was asleep on the couch once more. Victor smiled at the gesture, grateful for the food even if it had grown cold by the time Victor forced himself away from the warm spray of the shower.

Placing his dishes in the sink he flipped off the kitchen light before he gathered Yuri's small form in his arms. The kid was growing and it wouldn't be much longer before Victor would no longer be able to carry him, legs wrapped around his waist and arms dangling over his shoulders, as the kid's soft snores disappeared somewhere against Victor's chest.

The kid didn't even stir as Victor carried him to his room, tucking him in his bed before propping himself on the edge, and he tenderly ran his fingers through the soft blonde strands, and Victor's days had certainly been full of moments he'd rather not remember but, sitting there, watching the small chest rise and fall in easy rhythm, made it all worth it.