On The Battlefield
"There is moon out tonight."
And not just any other moon, either, but a moon that shines full, and is dusted in red. An eerie moon to mark the occasion. It shines brightly in the dusk of evening.
The man who spoke stood quietly staring up at that beautiful orb in the sky, blinking away tears as he came to realize that if things were going to fall down as planned, he or his best friend would soon be covered in the same color that dusted the moon.
Blood red.
Ivan sighed heavily, reaching over to paw at his aching heart through the front of his tan great cloak. "Ee will be here soon, da…..Ivan will not be able to stop this…." He muttered, shifting his gaze to the ground as lightning arced across the night sky, illuminating everything within the Russian man's line of sight, and glinting off the man's preferred weapon: his rust incrusted steel spicket. Crude, yes. But effective none-the-less.
Sighing again, Ivan looked up at the moon. "Even heavens weep at sad scene unfolding…." The man drawled tensely in broken English, glaring at the sky above. "Ivan needs no pity…." He mumbled, running a gloved hand through his platinum tresses.
"You could have fooled me, dude…."
Ivan was slow to turn his body towards the man that had addressed him, and he drew in a shakey breath.
"Alfred….You showed….da…"
Alfred, the man who had approached from behind while the Russian behemoth was star gazing, merely shrugged. "Braginski…you know this isn't personal…I have to do what my boss says.…" he tried to explain.
Violet eyes rounded on the shorter, blonde haired man. "Yes…..Ivan is aware…Ivan must do same…."
Alfred ran a hand through his hair, moving his one stray cowlick to the side a bit. "I bet…But I have to fight you…..I don't wanna, dude, but I….I have to…."
Ivan's gaze softened as he stared at the American he had once called comrade…
Once called friend….
And Ivan stared at him for the longest of times before finally speaking.
"Nyet….Alfred does not have to do anything, da…."
"WE have to Ivan….." the American argued, sadly glancing the other man's way.
Ivan sighed, glancing in the opposite direction, already knowing in his aching heart that the man was right. "Da…Da, we do…"
The American flyboy smiled sadly as he started to yank off his aviator jacket, letting it fall where it may on the ground.
This is where thunder sparked to life in the air above, setting into motion what was to occur next. The heavens opened up above, and rain started to pour down onto the hillside where the pair stood, drenching the pair before the inevitable came.
Ivan gave no hesitation, no quarter, as he lunged at the man in front of him, pipe raised in full swing, ready to strike.
And Alfred was ready for him, moving to Ivan's left as swiftly as he could, effectively causing the man's pipe to slam into the mud where his feet once rested. The metal slid deep into the ground between the matching footprints Alfred had left in the dirt. The mud slung up into the air, splattering the Russian's cheek.
A scowl twisted onto the Russian's features as the mud slid down his face. His violet eyes shot to his peripherals, searching for the man that was his adversary. "Where-!"
In the silence, a deafening bang resounded from behind Ivan's hulking body.
Ivan shuddered as pain erupted in his cheek, a sliver of red appearing there. Below him, the ground exploded in a splash of mud and dirt.
"When did Alfred take up gun?..." Ivan mused aloud, standing up, a hand to his stinging cheek. The glare he shot the man looming on the opposite edge of the cliff could have rattled lesser men.
But not Alfred. Alfred stood, undaunted, gun drawn and smoking from the barrel he had pointed at Ivan's head.
"Always pulls to the right…" Alfred muttered, cocking the gun again, readying a second bullet to fire at the Russian hulk. "You pick up a few things when all your enemies prefer close combat….." he teased, chuckling darkly as he backed away from Ivan.
Ivan smirked. "Gun will not protect you…" he whispered menacingly, lifting the now muddy pipe, blood drizzling down his cheek from the slice across his pale face.
Another bang erupted in the downpour.
The bullet zoomed past Ivan's body, missing him entirely.
Ivan's grin stretched further across his face, stretching the wound, causing the bleeding to worsen, painting him in a fiendish red. "Missed Ivan…." He chuckled. Ivan dashed headlong at his enemy, pipe at the ready. The rain caused the pipe to whistle as it descended upon the startled American.
Metal hit metal, and the gun in Alfred's hand flew up into the rain drenched air.
The American flinched back, clutching his hand to his chest. "Son of a-! You Commie Bastard!" The curse hissed through clenched teeth, and Alfred staggered backwards from Ivan. He turned green eyes on the silver haired mammoth, gritting his teeth.
"Hurts?...Too bad…Like Alfred said…..Ivan is Commie Bastard…" Ivan taunted, trying to heckle the flyboy into attacking him on his own terms. The man dropped his silver pipe, and raised his hands up, taking a fighters stance with one arm extended outwards while the other rested against his chest for protection.
The dirty pipe landed on Alfred's prized jacket.
"Damn you! That's my favorite jacket! Stupid Commie!" Alfred roared. He ran at Ivan, tackling him to the ground.
Ivan laughed as they hit the ground, pressing a foot into Alfred's stomach so he could kick him off.
Alfred landed in the mud, but he landed upright. "Damn it! Stay down!"
Ivan smirked, standing up. "Never, Capitalist Pig!"
Alfred bristled. "What you call me!"
Ivan's grin split farther. "Capitalist….Pig."
"Call me that again! I dare you, Commie Bastard!"
"Capitalist Pig!"
Alfred, being the pig-headed, and quick tempered man that Ivan knew him to be, charged at Ivan full force, roaring in anger at the jibe. Closer and closer, fast as lightening the man approached, his feet slapping wetly into the dark mud and earth.
Sweat beaded down Ivan's brow from the exertion of the quick attacks he had used before, his eyes snapping towards the charging man in front of him. The world around him slowed to an almost halt as he stared, all his focus upon the rampaging hulk that worked foot over foot to ram him. The American charged slowly now, allowing Ivan's mind to process exactly what was going on. Every movement, every miniscule detail, was open to Ivan's sight.
A split second.
That was all that it took.
Alfred came within range.
Ivan's muscles flexed.
Then….
It was over.
Ivan snapped his arms out to grasp onto Alfred's forearm, startling the man half to death. Then, using the momentum to aide in the movement, Ivan easily flipped Alfred right over his hulking body, slamming him directly into the mud below, causing a massive splash of dirty rain water and mud to splatter onto Ivan's great coat.
Dazed and confused, Alfred lay upon the ground, blinking his green eyes up at the darkened sky as lightening flitted across the horizon.
Silence followed the thump.
Ivan took in long ragged breaths as he waited for Alfred to approach, to get up, to do anything, exhaustion taking its hold on the Russian man.
Alfred did…nothing.
Ivan grinned, chuckling. "Ivan wins….." he muttered, turning his back to Alfred.
Another bang in the darkness. Lightning lighting up the area at the exact same moment.
Pain blossomed in Ivan's side, causing him to stagger in the illuminated recesses of the hillside. Ivan's hand slowly rose from his sides, moving along his cloak to find the source of the pain. There, on his right side, was a gunshot hole, blood seeping from the wound, blotting the tan of his rough coat in a horrific reddish hue. Ivan felt blood rush up his esophagus, causing the man to choke and splutter for a moment, then fall unceremoniously into the mud below, whilst rain pelted him from above.
The heaven's wept.
Alfred had been lucky, when he hit the ground, there was his gun, laying sideways in the dirt. When Ivan's back was turned, he was able to make a snatch for it, turn, and fire.
He had intended to miss again, to startle Ivan enough to cause him to drop his guard. He had never intended to hit him. Never did he want to cause any REAL damage.
But there Ivan was…
"Commie?..."
Bleeding from a REAL wound that he had inflicted. They were supposed to fight…
Not to kill each other…..
"Ivan…?"
Alfred blanked out, his eyes widening as he watched Ivan fall to his knees. "Ivan shouldn't be like that! He was a proud Russian!" Alfred's mind screamed.
"Ivan…"
Again, Alfred watched Ivan's body. The Russian shuddered in the rain and mud, his cloak drenched. The mud beneath him started to change color, changing from brown to reddish auburn.
So much blood…..
Then Ivan pitched sideways, almost as if he were in slow motion. At least, this was how Alfred pictured it as he watched, tears erupting behind his emerald irises.
"IVAN!"
Alfred drug himself to his feet, stumbling in the ooze that the darkened hillside had become. Struggling as best he could, and tossing the blasted gun as far away as he could, he crossed the short distance between their bodies and threw himself onto the Russian, yanking him up into his protective arms.
"Ivan! Don't you dare! DON'T YOU DARE DIE!" Alfred growled, tears cascading down his mud covered cheeks.
Ivan opened his eyes, looking up Alfred with saddened violet orbs. "Al….?"
Alfred smiled sadly, wiping his face with dirty hands. "Yeah! It's me, dude! Come on….I'm…..I'm sorry! Oh God, Ivan….I'm so sorry….I'm so sorry…I never….."
A finger, covered by mud covered gloves pressed against Alfred's cheek, stopping the mantra entirely.
"I…..was wrong…..Alfred wins….." Ivan choked.
"Don't talk…" Alfred warned, chuckling worriedly. "And no…you were right, Ivan…"
Ivan blinked his tired eyes, gazing up at his conqueror. "Nyet…?"
"I did have a choice…..And I'm choosing to end this…..I won….My boss should be happy enough with what happened…..I'm not going to lose you again….." Alfred whispered, kissing Ivan's brow before he moved to loop his arms under Ivan's legs and shoulders, lifting the larger man with a grunt.
Ivan blinked his eyes closed slowly, leaning into the man trying to correctly carry his form. "….Ivan is glad…."
"Better be….And stay awake…..I'll take you to Ludwig. He'll fix you up in no time…." Alfred murmered, looking down longingly at the man in his arms, a pang of regret inching into his heart at the pain that was now etched onto his rival's…..and lover's…features.
Ivan managed a nod, and then struggled to pull his body up in the man's arms, inching as close as he could.
"I-Ivan! Stay Still!" Alfred choked, startled as the weight in his arms shifted.
But Ivan moved close, and placed a chaste kiss to Alfred's cheek.
"Is like always…..Alfred is always Ivan's equal…and his hero…"
Alfred turned bright red, but Ivan couldn't tell in the dark of the night around the pair.
The rain above stopped slowly as Alfred walked down the hillside, carrying Ivan gingerly in his arms. "…I'm no hero…"
"To Ivan…Alfred is ALWAYS hero…Ivan is sorry about Alfred's jacket…and his shirt…Ivan is bleeding all over…."
"Don't worry…..I got a "great" drycleaner…." He muttered sarcastically.
Ivan chuckled wetly, blood leaking from his lips. "Still….."
Silence followed.
"Don't talk, Commie…" Alfred admonished quietly, hugging the other close. "I'll get a new suit later…"
The rain tapered off, and the sun began to replace the moon on the horizon. Daybreak found the pair, going down the hill in silence, one lover tucked protectively in the arms of the other as they walked, the only sound being footfalls and a silent drip.
"But you definitely owe me a new jacket, dude…."
~OWARI~
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