AN: Takes place between the last chapter and the epilogue of Agents of Metal Part 3. Builds on "The Past is Alive." Probably owes more than a little to ArmageddonClan's work. And yes, it's basically an excuse to write some more fluff :) Named after the classic Iron Maiden song from their debut album.
...
The steel-grey Ka came to a halt on the gravel driveway in front of Vlad the Forger's small two-story cottage. It was already past midnight, and very dark. But the light was on to welcome the two Agents.
The drive had not been as hair-raising as the one in the stolen red SCEPTRE car, but still, it could have meant trouble. The bullet-pierced windshield would certainly have made the cops curious, as well as the loaded semiautomatic in the glove box, the only weapon they had left for themselves. All the rest had been loaded aboard the IAC before Erik had taken off.
It was sort of like his internal clock had been reset, and Ian did not even feel tired at this point. At least on the surface. But behind that, he knew he had to be close to his limit, mentally, emotionally and physically.
After the short tender moment when Jo had recalled the Ka's steering wheel, she had kept quiet. But she had been dutifully awake, scanning the traffic for any signs of trouble.
Ian turned to her. "This is Vlad's place," he said.
"Right," Jo answered.
They exited the small hatchback and Ian rang the doorbell after locking the car.
Only perhaps ten seconds passed, and the door opened. Vlad looked just like Ian last remembered, the wavy black hair, a friendly expression on his face. Though Ian could understand that part of the friendliness had to do with the pay he would receive from the Agency for hosting them and preparing their false identities.
More precisely, the pay would come from Hermann Grieg's company. As there were not many actual Agents alive to speak of at this point. Well – the Agents had served their purpose. The rogue planet had been repelled and SCEPTRE / THRONE was basically no more.
It was tiring to even think of that now. To be able to stay at Vlad's place while he took care of practical matters would be immensely relieving. That practically only left Ian to ponder the next most critical thing on his mind, of whether Jo's memory would recover more, and how long it would take.
Ian just had to remind himself that he was practically guilty of everything bad that had happened to her. But still, they were both alive, physically relatively unharmed. Except for Ian's heart no longer being organic, but that was possibly even an improvement? In any case, everything could have ended up much worse.
"Come in," Vlad said.
Ian and Jo followed him to the small living room. The TV was on, and an epic orchestral theme rang out from the speakers, as a sword was being forged in a fire behind the opening credits.
Ian recognized the movie - Conan the Barbarian.
"It's a classic," Vlad said. "But don't worry, I won't recite quotes from it. Rather, you must be hungry? I'll make some tea and sandwiches. And you can use the guest bedroom on the second floor."
"That's kind, all of that," Jo answered.
They sat down on the living room sofa as Vlad went away to the kitchen. For some reason, the movie seemed to evoke some long-lost memories. But Ian couldn't exactly pinpoint them.
Until it hit him. Lucas. The SCEPTRE training. It was just a short flash, like most of them. They had been discussing what's best in life, like in the scene later in the movie. But Ian no longer remembered his answer.
For a brief moment, Ian considered whether it was wise to even speak about it. But to hell with it, he thought then. It would be preferable to just silence. He had talked about his SCEPTRE past to Jo many times, but of course now she wouldn't actually remember that, so he had to take that into account.
Ian turned to Jo. "On your recording to yourself, you said I had been trained by the enemy. And that's exactly right. From time to time … I have these memory flashes too. Some of them are quite disturbing. I just had one, related to this film. See, during the training I had this friend, Lucas..."
The tale was honestly quite complicated, and Ian tried to take as many shortcuts as he could. But Jo seemed interested in listening. It was something to pass the time, in the very least.
Just as Vlad brought the food and drinks on the low table, Ian got to the very compressed ending. "I guess – he had fulfilled his purpose. He was at peace when his steam finally ran out."
"Tragic. Maybe there wasn't anything else left for him," Jo observed.
Ian noted she had put her hand on top of his. Very appropriate, except –
The words were out kind of by instinct. "Jo, you don't have to do that, if it's not what you really feel –"
In an instant her expression got a lot colder.
"Right," she said and withdrew the hand.
They ate and drank in silence. At this point Conan's parents had been murdered by Thulsa Doom, and he had been sold to slavery, grinding the wheel of pain endlessly. That was very fitting. And Ian thought, fuck, why couldn't I just keep my mouth shut?
Vlad spoke up.
"You know, most EU countries have an extradition treaty with the States. So you should change your appearance, and we better do the identities the proper way. As well as the registration for the car. It will take more time, and cost more. But you probably aren't in a hurry?"
Ian didn't even register all of the words. But he could agree. There was no hurry. Plenty of time for more mistakes. Digging himself into a hole properly. In the worst case, plenty of time to wait for a recovery that would never come.
Fuck.