I just love this AU and mattimir is slowly taking over my mind. (The rating will most probably go up.)
I'm not a native speaker of English. I'm sorry for all the stupid mistakes you'll find in this. We're not on good terms with articles.
The first thing Vladimir registers upon waking up is pain. His right side is burning with it and it seems to be radiating onto his whole torso. It wouldn't be the first time he wakes up to such a state so he isn't in much of a shock and regains his composure quite quickly. He swallows a groan of pain and finally takes in his surroundings.
He has no idea where he is.
It's day outside and huge unblinded windows are letting the morning light in. He's not sure what day it is, though. He's lying on a couch in a flat he has never been in before. It's simple, spacious, and holds no obvious clue as to whom it belongs to. He tries to recall the last thing he remembers before waking up here... Anatoly's body. Revenge. Bombings. The Masked Man. The questions about Fisk. Dying… How did he end up here? This can't be the afterlife, it's too nice.The pain is definitely not a reward and the couch is far from comfortable but still, this is more than he deserved for his sins. Maybe he's in a coma and this is some kind of twisted dream?
Vladimir looks back to his own figure. He's shirtless so he can clearly see his wounds has been treated to, there are fresh stitches on his side. Maybe he is alive after all - but how? Then his Marks catch his eye and distract him from assessing the damage done to his body. Most of the Marks have been on his skin for years, some decades, and he's used to the sight, but there's something drawing his gaze, something disrupted in the view.
The star on his left collarbone is bleeding.
Every child learns about the Marks pretty soon in their lives. It's impossible not to spot them. Everyone's skin is ornamented with them - words and pictures, in black and in colour, vivid or fading… People are covered in their life story, and though most of the Marks are metaphorical and some have a meaning known only to the owner, you can learn a lot about a person just from a single glance. Marks appear on one's skin when something important happens in their lives, as an aftermath, a memory you won't ever be able to wipe.
You can never control what appears on your body nor you can change what's already been inked into your skin. Some try to add tattoos of their own design but there's always something off about the artificial ink. You can always tell apart a tattoo from a Mark, the former always somehow screaming counterfeit. Though some cover themselves in so much artificial ink, the Marks are not so conspicuous, but you can neither fully hide them, nor truly remove them. It has yet to be discovered what really stands behind the phenomenon of the Marks, what is the pattern of their emergence, why do they appear after some events but they do not in some situations that one would consider significant.
The biggest mystery are the soulmate Marks.
Upon meeting one's soulmate, a Mark forms on your skin, a symbol of your bond to the other person. Both soulmates are ornamented with the same Mark, but it cannot point you in the direction of your soulmate beforehand, it does not give you his or her name. It is simply a symbol that may mean everything to you or nothing. But if you have a matching set of Marks, then the other person is supposed to be the one destined to be with you. Many do not believe it even when they encounter the person with a matching Mark. Some chose to ignore the Marks. Some wait patiently for theirs, for years and decades. Some never get it.
Vladimir never cared much for the soulmate Mark. His first Mark, one that appeared after his mother's death, after Anatoly and him were left under "care" of their drunkard father, was identical to one on his brother's body. He still remembers how scared they were when they both started feeling this weird stinging sensation on the skin on their chest. Then a matching pair of stars appeared on their collarbones, a symbol of brotherhood and their bond. While they never read it as the soulmate Mark, they never cared much for the actual one. They had each other and it was enough. There is no place for love and soulmates in this twisted cruel world.
But now, in this strange flat, after Vladimir almost died, his most precious Mark is changed. The star over his heart is darker, a line of dripping blood starts in the middle of it and goes on down his torso for about ten centimetres. It must have changed upon the discovery of Anatoly's cold body but Vladimir didn't exactly have time to see how the ink reflected his brother's death on his skin. Revenge was definitely more important than the damned Marks.
It is not unheard of for the already existing Marks to change. But it is the first time for Vladimir and this is just cruel.
He finds himself unable to look away. His eyes fixed on the bleeding star on his skin, he feels his heartbeat quicken up, his breathing becomes more ragged, and grief hits him with double force.
"Are you okay?"
Vladimir jumps at the query which brings a new wave of pain in his side and the world blurs for a moment. Then the man who asked the question comes into view. It's the Masked Man, the vigilante who apparently likes to ask a lot of questions and keep his enemies alive. The mask is still in place on the his face but he's wearing a suit, full on white shirt and tie, and the combination evokes such a discord in Vladimir's mind that he actually forgets the man expects an answer from him.
"Are you okay?" the Mask repeats himself, this time talking slower and a little bit louder.
"Where the fuck am I, засранец?"
"Yeah, you're okay," a small smile appears on the man's lips and he does up the last button of his shirt. The movement draws Vladimir's gaze towards the man's neck and he notices part of a Mark protruding from the Mask's clothing. Just two curved lines, connecting in one place just above the shirt's collar. It's the first Mark of the Mask that he got a glimpse of. As a vigilante who wants his identity kept secret, the man is right to keep them out of sight. "You're in my flat."
"You really are stupid," Vladimir says, incredulously. "Why not just let me die?"
The man tilts his head and bites into his lower lip, as if he was looking for the answer of the question himself. "You're now my only shot at getting Fisk," he replies finally.
Vladimir smiles cruelly but the man seems unfazed by his expression, one that Vladimir knows has put fear into many men. "Why you think I will help you?" he spats when the non-verbal threat evokes no response.
"I am now your best shot at getting Fisk," the Mask says, a little bit amused and definitely proud of himself. "And getting your revenge." He puts on his jacket, collects a briefcase from the table, and sets off towards the exit from the flat. Vladimir watches him closely, like a predator who was put in a cage with another beast of prey. The man is by the door when he turns around to acknowledge again the Russian mobster on his couch.
"Stay put and don't mess up your stitches. They won't be as pretty as they are now when I'm the one sewing you together."
He takes of the Mask just before opening the door and disappears behind them. The only thing Vladimir caught a glimpse of was a mop of brown hair. Not much to go on.
"Пошелнахуй, " Vladimir yells after him. It makes him feel a little bit better.
Vladimir takes a deep breath. He should be trying to get out of here now. Mask just left him here to his own devices. So careless, that кретин.
But moving do seem like an undertaking requiring too much effort to bother with. And where would he go in such a state? He lifts his left hand to hover his fingertips above the stitching, not really touching but taking in the damage nonetheless. That really wouldn't be a desired turn of events if his wound re-opened.
He retreats his hand to lay it back on the couch where it was so far lying inert by his side. This is when he sees it.
A completely new Mark.
On the inside of his left forearm there's a Mark. It's quite big, taking about half the space between his elbow and wrist. It's a simple picture of an eye that's crossed by a scar. Any symbolic value of the latter is not hard to decipher. He was never vain and not a person to stare at the reflection of his own face in the mirror but he knows his own scar. How it starts above his eyebrow and then cuts down to bifurcate in the middle of his cheek. A reminder of his time in the Siberian prison, better than any Mark that could appear on his skin after that time.
That's not the part of the Mark that draws his attention, though. The eye itself is what confuses him. The iris is red, almost blurred. There's no pupil. It seems blind.
"Что это должно означать?"
| tbc |
DICTIONARY:
засранец - kind of like "little shit" but in a fully pejorative way - not the way we affectionately call our favourite characters little shits XD
Пошел на хуй - fuck you
кретин - cretin
Что это должно означать? - what is that supposed to mean?
It's hard for me to translate all the curses faithfully. I am Polish and I learnt some Russian at university so adding Russian phrases while writing Vladimir comes quite naturally to me. And some of the beauty of the curses is untranslatable into English. I do love Slavic languages for their smorgasbord of swear words!
I'll love you and make you pancakes if you leave a review :3