Thank you so much for the wonderful reviews! We appreciate them so much!
Also, as a side note, I just wanted to say that while there is Cyrillic in this story, simple responses such as "da" and "nyet" will remain as shown. Everything else in Russian will be Cyrillic. There will be translations at the bottom of every chapter. While the translations aren't spot on (blame Google translate for that), I'm sure they will more than cover what is being said.
With that said, please continue!
Many years passed for them, and Alfred lived up to his promise and helped Ivan whenever he could. Though he learned quickly what a terrible place it was, especially how bad it was for Ivan. But Alfred tried his best to stay bright and strong. Ivan was a big help in that. They would often hug each other until they fell asleep if one of them was "punished", and Alfred even told Ivan all he remembered about America. It wasn't a lot, but it was enough to keep Alfred dreaming about escaping this cold, dreary place where only pain was seen. He tried to convince Ivan to run away too, but Ivan, who was already broken, thought it to be impossible.
Their friendship grew, and they even made other friends they could trust along the way. But eventually their closeness developed into feelings of love and as they hit puberty, slightly less innocent. Ivan on his 18th birthday, like every kid that turned 18, was evaluated and given advanced training in his area of expertise, going into armed forces units of the agency. He learned how to survive in the many different climates, and as a result of no longer being in basic training, he was out from underneath General Winter's thumb. It forced the General to pick a new favorite, and who did he have his eye on? The sunshine blonde, with chlorine eyes, sun kissed skin, as well as a feisty and cheerful disposition.
"Время для вас, чтобы узнать свое место неряшливый мальчишка!" The General growled. That was all the warning Alfred got before his already bruised and cut body was pushed to the ground, face and knees pressed to the hard, cold and unforgiving tiled floor. They were in the general's office and it had been four months since Alfred became a "favorite". The General of course had beaten, scarred, fondled, and even forced Alfred to suck him off before, but never raped him. Alfred felt cold terror fill him as he came to the realization of what was going on, so he naturally he began to fight the General's hold and push up from the ground. His arms were quickly folded painfully behind his back as he was forced back down so hard he bit his tongue. "провести еще!" General Winter barked out and Alfred obeyed his command, knowing that he would just make things worse for himself. He then heard the sound of pants dropping.
Pain, that was all Alfred felt as the General thrust in and out, in and out. He hadn't prepared Alfred, or provided lubrication. Alfred was bleeding from his torn hole. It stung when Winter finally came.
"You may go now." The General commented casually as he took a seat at his desk, now looking over papers. Alfred was now fully dressed in his newly ripped clothes, a blank look on his face as he said "Yes, sir." As he turned to leave, General Winter called "Oh and one more thing Alfred, tell Ivan I said 'hi' and Кажется, моя маленькая снежинка, я был первым 'вырвать' ваш маленький подсолнух." He then gave Alfred a malicious smirk, and made a shooing motion. Alfred gritted his teeth and turned once again, leaving General Winter's office. He could only pick up a couple of words, but he knew he was mocking Ivan. Probably because he was his old favorite, and knew Alfred liked him (and vice versa). Alfred was only able to pick up enough Russian to obey simple commands, but he still memorized the words he said. As he walked toward his and Ivan's room, his emotionless facade withered with every step he took. He was eventually running to the room. Once he got there he threw open the door, letting it slam shut when he stepped in. He found Ivan sitting up in his bed reading with his lamp on. As startled violet eyes met distraught blue, the blonde launched himself across the room and tackled the Russian. Alfred clung to Ivan, hiding his face in his chest. Sobs raked Alfred's body as he cried out his trauma, fear, anger, frustration, and sadness.
"H-H-He f-finally did…hic…it…" Alfred sobbed pitifully into the Russian's chest. Ivan felt his heart freeze over, sharp, icy pangs making his chest ache in the most horrible way. He saw red in his vision, desperately trying not to dig his nails into Alfred's skin. In that moment, Ivan had never felt more helpless in the entire time he had been here. Even whenever he was the General's favorite "toy", it didn't compare to how he was feeling now. Because now, it was someone else other than himself. It was Alfred…sweet, kind, little Alfred who was the subject of Winter's perverse desires. Ivan buried his head into Alfred's crown of golden hair, a few tears slipping down his cheeks and onto the sunshine strands.
"…" He really didn't know what to say. His entire being was conflicted with emotions: anger, regret, frustration, grief, anxiety. The need to murder yet also the need to sit and hug Alfred and chase all his fears away. But he couldn't do anything, because they were trapped here. Forever forced to be the government's and General Winter's toys. Before, the talk of escape had seemed futile to Ivan, not worth the risk. But now? How much worse would it get for them? For Alfred? From the sounds of it, Winter was just beginning the real torture. It wouldn't be long before Alfred wouldn't be able to walk back to the barracks anymore. He'd be forced to sleep in that disgusting bed with that disgusting pig. Once again, Ivan was shaking with barely suppressed anger, the only sound other than the incomprehensible screaming in his head being Alfred's sad sobs.
"H-He t-told me to t-t-tell you something…" Alfred tried wiping away the various tears streaming down his cheeks. He looked up at Ivan's conflicted face, remembering Winter's words. "Кажется, моя маленькая снежинка, я был первым вырвать ваш маленький подсолнух..."
As soon as the words were out of Alfred's mouth, Ivan went livid. Murder poured out of his pores. The word burned in his mind. He wanted nothing more in that moment than to see the General's blood splattered across the room, across the camp. He clenched his gloved hands so hard he thought he'd crack the bones. If it wasn't for the leather gloves, there'd be half crescents on his palms. He wretched himself up from the bed, stomping furiously over to the door.
Alfred jumped up as well and stared, startled, shocked, and afraid as Ivan stormed towards the door. An aura that radiated loathing and murder, wrapped around his best friend and secret crush. But that isn't what frightened him, oh no, though he did sense that if Ivan left the room terrible things would happen. What truly and deeply frightened him at that moment was Ivan leaving him, being left alone. "I-Ivan?" He choked out, grabbing an end of Ivan's scarf weakly. He hated how weak and pathetic he sounded and felt. He hated being so clingy when Ivan had grinned and barred it for so long. Alfred always hugged him after a "meeting" with the General and fell asleep with him when they were younger. Hell, Alfred had been doing so well the last few months, grinning and not complaining about it too much. But right now, he needed comfort and the thought of being alone felt almost as bad as the end of the world. So when Ivan turned to face Alfred with eyes a dark violet from being clouded with rage, he pleaded with Ivan with his now watery blue eyes. 'Please...please don't leave me alone, I need you.'
It was hard not to trudge out that door and barrel his way into the General's quarters. It was hard, but not impossible. It was made possible by seeing the hurt and fear in those beautiful blue eyes that stared up at him, silently begging him to stay. Ivan sighed, feeling his emotions twisting inside of him like a tornado, stirring up his insides and weathering his resolve. However, the most prominent emotion was fear; fear of leaving Alfred alone, fear of what would happen to Alfred next, fear of this, fear of that.
Fear. They lived by that word. It was all they had ever known for these past couple years.
Unwinding Alfred's hand from his scarf, Ivan stepped forward and brought the blonde into a tight hug, resting his head in the crook of Alfred's neck. He felt small hands clasping onto his jacket tightly, the figure in his arms trembling with renewed tears. Running his fingers through Alfred's damp hair, he whispered quietly to him. "Shhhh…do not cry, Fredka. I am right here. I will not leave you." Carefully, he led the trembling blonde over to the bed and sat down with Alfred resting in his lap. The American had his head buried into Ivan's scarf, dampening the material with his tears, adding to the collection of sorrow that was already hosted there. "Shhh…" Ivan purred soothingly into Alfred's ear, easing the blonde's worries away. "I am right here."
Eventually the tears subsided into sniffles, and then Ivan felt the grip on his jacket soften a little. "Thank you...Vanya." Alfred breathed out as he drifted to sleep, relief at Ivan not leaving him allowing him to take the comfort of dreamless rest.
Ivan eased the exhausted blonde down onto the bed, careful not to wake him. Kicking off his boots and jacket, he brought the covers up and around him and Alfred, snuggling closer and wrapping an arm around the blonde's waist. This was how they had been sleeping ever since they'd first met all those years ago. Alfred never used his own bed, always preferring to sleep with Ivan. At first it was to protect Ivan from all the "monsters" in the dark (the real monsters lurked outside in the guard towers). Eventually it grew into a comfortable routine and Alfred no longer spouted his brave excuse.
He nuzzled into the blonde's neck, breathing in the familiar scent of Alfred. He'd have to bathe him tomorrow, scrub him clean of all of Winter's filth. Ivan felt his blood boiling once again at the thought of the general. He focused on trying to quell the murderous rage that was trying to claw its way to the surface. He managed to subdue it for the time being; key word being 'subdue'. He knew that sooner or later he would snap and black out. When he would finally come to, what would he find? Bodies strewn all over the place? Blood everywhere? Would he recognize Alfred out of the crowd? Ivan shivered. He'd only snapped once before, and that was years ago whenever the guards were still able to hold him back fairly well. He remembered it being over another boy abusing Alfred and stealing his food. He remembered seeing the boy throw a punch at Alfred, watching as the kind blonde was smacked to the floor with blood drizzling down his nose. As if it weren't enough, the boy continued to assault Alfred by kicking him repeatedly in his ribs. All it took was looking at Alfred's sweet face scrunched up in pain, covered in tears and blood. Ivan snapped, and whenever he came to, multiple guards were holding him back and the boy was a crumpled heap of blood and broken bones on the ground. He never knew if that boy lived…
But now he was older and much, much stronger than before. He'd gladly give into his raging desires if it weren't for worrying about what would happen to Alfred. The blonde was traumatized after the first time, barely recognizing Ivan. It had taken at least a week for him to warm back up to the Russian. Ivan had never been more guilt ridden in his life. He was afraid that if he went off like that again that Alfred would be caught in the crossfire. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he were to ever hurt Alfred. The boy was that was so kind to him and treated him like a true friend…he treated Ivan like he was loved.
Exhaling sadly, the Russian closed his eyes and forced himself into a restless sleep, visions of red and sounds of screaming filling his head as he slept.
The next morning before classes and before anyone else got up, Ivan woke an exhausted Alfred and dragged him to the bathroom across the hall. Ivan had followed through with his decision to get Alfred clean from Winter's filth, and currently had Alfred in one of the few tubs in the bathroom and was lathering his hair. "I know it's hard to let go sometimes mommy, but I'm 17, a big boy now and can clean myself!" Alfred exclaimed sarcastically and teasingly. He did however make sure that his voice was low enough, so that the bugs in the room couldn't make out their conversation. Alfred was curious and kind of flustered at Ivan's need to wash him himself, he tried not to get his hopes up that Ivan felt the same for him as he did for Ivan. He hissed when some of the soapy water hit some of his cuts.
"I have to scrub these cuts, or else they could become infected." Ivan said sympathetically. He heard Alfred hiss as he rubbed the washcloth over the still tender wounds. "I just had a feeling that maybe you wanted some help, Alfred." He picked up a small bucket and scooped some water up in it before dumping it over Alfred's soapy hair. The blonde westerner let out a pleased sigh at the feeling of warm water rushing over his figure. Ivan felt a small smile tug at the corner of his lips. Over the past night, he had forgotten about how adorable Alfred could be sometimes. It sometimes felt like Alfred was just a child in an almost-a-man's body. That, or he just hadn't lost his youthfulness yet. He went back to Alfred's hair, running his fingers through the damp golden locks and untangling them. It was subtle, but he noticed how the blonde arched into his touch.
Alfred leaned slightly into his touch, enjoying Ivan's hands running through his hair gently. Alfred hummed, "Hmmm, so what did ya want to talk about before everyone woke up?"
Ivan pursed his lips, thinking of how he was going to word his next couple sentences. He was never that good with words. "Do you remember talking about escaping?" He saw recognition on the blonde's face as Alfred nodded. The Russian reached down into the soapy water and pulled the plug on the tub, slowly letting the water empty out. It was hard not to just sit there and gawk at Alfred's body, but he managed to distract himself. Walking over to one of the cabinets, he pulled out a fresh towel. "Step out." He commanded the American. Alfred hoisted himself awkwardly out of the tub, turning at an angle as if trying to hide both sides of himself. Ivan quickly wrapped him up in the towel. "I was...thinking all night long about it."
"Uh huh..." Alfred trailed, blushing slightly and taking the towel wrapping it around his waist. He faced Ivan's eyes apprehensively, but lighted up a bit in hope.
"I have...been thinking about it." Ivan turned his eyes downcast as Alfred began to dress himself, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable. Alfred had already suggested escape once before, but at that time, it was whenever Ivan was the General's favorite. He could handle the torture, so long as Alfred was safe. But now that the situation was reversed...the thought of escape seemed more and more appealing. Giving up, Ivan sighed. "I don't want us to be here. I don't want you to be here."
Now fully dressed, Alfred spun around and grinned at Ivan. "You mean you wanna..?" Oh, Alfred hoped that what he was thinking was true. He'd wanted to escape from this place for years, wanting to taste freedom again. He wanted to show Ivan America, especially the sunflower fields of South Dakota and Kansas. Let him feel the warmth of summer that Russia only briefly experienced. He was positively glowing at the thought, looking at Ivan with so much hope.
Nodding, Ivan couldn't help but reciprocate Alfred's smile. It was always so infectious. "Do you know Ludwig? He is the guard that was transferred here from Western Europe a couple of years ago." He wasn't sure how Alfred could miss him. Ludwig easily stood out, with his slicked back blonde hair, stony expression, and chilly blue eyes. They were the exact opposite of Alfred's warm, sky blue ones.
Alfred blinked, of course he knew Ludwig. Though he was strict, he wasn't cruel and sadistic like most of the guards and trainers. Alfred remembered when he first officially met him.
It was about a year ago. He and this Italian named Feliciano were chosen to clean the mess hall. Alfred and Feli, as Feliciano is commonly called, were trying to make as much fun of the chore as they could. They'd somehow convinced Francis the head chef to let them use his kitchen to cook. Feliciano, not used to the Russian language, got his labels confused and ended up causing a sauce explosion. The guards who found the mess were not happy and someone had to take the heat. While usually Ludwig, who had befriended the younger Italian, would usually save Feliciano, he didn't arrive at the scene on time. Alfred, who saw how terrified his new friend was, instead took the blame for the mess. Apparently when Ludwig did arrive at the cafeteria, a crying Feliciano told him what happened. A week after that incident and Alfred was still healing from the beating he received. He was walking around the halls when Ludwig appeared and thanked him for helping Feliciano, promising to help Alfred whenever he could if he got in trouble.
Alfred blinked out of his flash back, and nodded at Ivan. "Yeah, he helps sometimes if I get in trouble with the other guards. Of course there is only so much he can do." He answered Ivan, looking up at him with curious eyes. "Why?" He inquired.
"Think about it," Ivan spoke thoughtfully, leading Alfred back to the bedroom as soon as he was dressed. "Ludwig is a guard. He knows all the daily routines and routes of the compound." Ivan kept his voice hushed, not wanting the hidden microphones to pick up their conversation. "If anyone would know a safe way out of here, he would. You also said that he would...help you if you ever needed it, correct?" Ivan doubted that Ludwig would risk his spine for something that great of a risk, but it was worth trying. It wasn't as if he would rat on Alfred...would he? No, not with that whiny Italian around. Feliciano wouldn't let him...
Alfred's eyes lit up, "Yeah! We can trust Ludwig, I know for a fact that he would help us. Especially if we convince him and Feli to run too! Ludwig hates how kids are treated here, especially since him and Feli are an item-" Alfred quickly covered his mouth, looking to make sure no one else heard him. When he saw he was clear, he groaned in frustration with himself, "Damn it, I promised Feli I wouldn't tell anybody! Not even you. D-Don't get me wrong Ivan, I trust you, but a promise is a promise..." He trailed off weakly smiling sheepishly at Ivan, hoping he wouldn't take offense and be mad at Alfred for keeping that secret.
"It is alright..." Ivan spoke quietly, but shot Alfred a soft smile to reassure him. "However…would it be a good idea to try and leave with a large group? We could get spotted easily." It's not like Ivan wished this type of treatment on anyone else (because everyone knew that if he and Alfred did manage to get away, the General would just find another favorite. Probably some poor, unsuspecting boy…). But at the moment, the only person he cared for other than himself was Alfred. He didn't have many acquaintances in this camp. After all, what was the use of trying to make friends whenever they would most likely backstab you or end up dead from beatings and exhaustion?
Nyet, Ivan grimaced in thought. That wasn't entirely true. Alfred was the one exception thus far. He doubted, however, how many more exceptions there could actually be.
"I will talk to Ludwig today during training. He should be there." Ludwig was one of the trainers. Albeit being strict and hard, he often extended as much mercy as he could get away with to the trainees. That didn't mean he was easy, per se… "You should talk to Feliciano in the mess hall today. I may not be able to convince Ludwig entirely on my own."
Alfred's brows came together and his lips pursed in thought. "Yes...generally speaking, the less the better. But unfortunately, we need ALL the help we can get. Also, Feli might not seem like much, but he's an amazing escape artist. Ludwig is smart and would be great as back up. I-I know you don't trust many people here Ivan, for good reasons too. I know people who we can trust though. There not many, but with their skills and resolves I know they can help." Alfred took Ivan's hand in both of his and gave him a determined look. "It'll take time to plan this Ivan, but I need you trust me on the people I choose. If you can do that Ivan, we can do this." Alfred knew he was taking a risk, and increasing their chances of getting caught. But he trusted these people. He knew they'd take care of each other and themselves. He also knew he was asking Ivan a lot. The man only truly trusted Alfred. The only other person he somewhat trusted was a Chinese guy by the name of Yao. That was because Yao was cheerful like Alfred. He was just as dedicated to protecting his little (adopted) brother Kiku, another of Alfred's friends, as Ivan was dedicated to protecting Alfred as much as he could. This was a big leap of faith, but Alfred felt it in his bones that together they could finally be free.
"That is already six people..." Ivan said warily. However, Alfred did make sense whenever it came to Ludwig and Feliciano's personal skills. He'd seen how the burly German could handle himself. Whereas the trainees were all tuckered out from running a couple miles, Ludwig could keep trudging on as if it were nothing. And the man had some massive arms on him...not like Ivan didn't. But it would be a lot better to have a second fighter on hand. As for Feliciano, Ivan knew all about his nimbleness. It seemed like what the cowardly Italian lacked in strength and courage, he made up for in speed, agility, and cunning.
Then there was the issue of Yao and Kiku. Ivan knew Yao by passing. They'd exchange words every so often and make the smallest of talk, but nothing more than that. The only thing Ivan knew about Kiku was that he was quiet and respectful. That, and he seemed adept at handling a blade, though there wasn't exactly an abundance of swords in the camp. He could use a knife, but Ivan didn't know if his skills would carry over to that weapon. Sighing and giving in, Ivan gave Alfred's hands a small squeeze back. "Fine. I suppose it is fine." Ivan watched Alfred as he opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off short whenever the door to their barracks busted open. And angry Englishman came barging in.
"AW, SO THAT'S HOW IT IS, HUH?" Arthur growled angrily. "You all are just going to march off into the sunset and leave me here!" Ivan glanced back and forth between the Englishman and Alfred, watching how Alfred stuttered over his words.
"A-Arthur? Keep it down, we'll be caught! And who said we were leaving you? I was planning on taking you and Francis too!" Before Ivan could turn on him, he gave a look that said. 'Shut-up-let-me-handle-this-or-lord-so-help-me-!'
It was true. Arthur was being a bit loud...Ivan hoped that maybe his voice hadn't been picked up. Though, that was a big maybe. Arthur crossed his arms and scoffed. "Well, the way you were speaking about it sounded as though I wasn't going to be included in this little escape. As for that bloody frog, you can leave him. We don't need a bloody pervert trying to molest everyone anyway." Ivan partially agreed with Arthur. Francis was known for his very...risqué attitude. If risqué could describe all the awkward, perverse advances he often made on the Englishman (and sometimes others of the camp). Another thought crossed Ivan's mind and he clenched his hands, hissing under his breath. If he so much as tried to lay his filthy French hands on Alfred...
"I have to agree." Ivan spoke stiffly, and saw that Alfred immediately picked up the tone of his voice.
Alfred decided then and there to NEVER bring up the fact Francis did grope him one or two times when he'd first met him...a punch from Alfred soon changed that though. Sometimes his almost inhuman strength was a blessing. Alfred tilted his head at Arthur's reply and grinned. "You don't mean that Artie! Remember when I caught you two making out in the closet and you swore me to secrecy?" He had to distract Arthur long enough for Francis to swoop in and sweep Arthur away. Speaking of which, here he came now from the same door as Arthur. "That hurts mon lapin, especially after the passionate night we just shared together! But no worries my pet, I know you did not mean it!" The French man winked at Arthur, who blushed and was about to yell at him. "YO-", but was interrupted by Francis addressing Ivan and Alfred. "And mon cher Ivan, I assure you I never laid a hand on your precious Alfred. Well ta-ta Alfred! We will talk about the plans later then, oui?" Francis asked as he dragged Arthur away. Alfred nodded in affirmative, even though he knew Francis couldn't see him. He knew Francis understood. Something that did perk Alfred's curiosity was Ivan's reaction to the possibility of Francis getting fresh with him…and Francis saying he was 'Ivan's precious Alfred'. With questioning eyes, he continued down the hall to their room with Ivan in silence, when they were seated on Ivan's bed, he did voice his curiosity. "What did Francis mean Ivan? And why would Francis hitting on me bother you? He's easy enough to handle."
Sometimes Ivan really did think of his anti-social tendencies as a cursing. He struggled for the correct words. "I, ahh...he was merely referring to the fact that we care about each other. After all, aren't we always looking out for each other, Alfred?" Not wanting to ramble, but unable to stop himself, Ivan continued. "He is French, da? You know how passionate he can get about the smallest things...always tossing around those 'romantic' words of his..." Ivan wished he knew some of those words. To him, Russian wasn't exactly a beautiful sounding language. But then again, that was just him.
Standing up quickly, Ivan spoke in a hurried tone. "I have to get to the training grounds, Alfred. Remember to talk to Feliciano. До свидания." With that, he left the barracks and began traversing across the snowy ground.
Alfred blinked and watched Ivan stride away. "What got him so tongue tied?" He then shrugged it off and left for classes, training, and then...well, Alfred hoped it wouldn't be a repeat of last night.
Кажется, моя маленькая снежинка, я был первым вырвать ваш маленький подсолнух: It seems, my little snowflake, I was the first to pluck your little sunflower
провести еще!: Hold still!
Время для вас, чтобы узнать свое место неряшливый мальчишка: Time for you to learn your place sluttish brat.
До свидания: Goodbye
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