When You Can't Beat Them, Become One
Sometimes there are things you'd rather not do. Like the dishes. Or laundry. Or running a massive network of syndicated crime. Small things. Ivan never intended to take over the mob, and Yao never meant to go near it again. Russia/China
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Author's Note: This chapter just needs to go away. It was born as extra!fail (moreso than usual, that is) and will die as exra!fail. =___=; It also just needs to be posted so that we can move past the fact that it exists and onto the rest of the fic. So, apologies in advance. =___=;;;;;;;;
Also, there's some random back-story on Germania and Rome here. I'm strongly debating making them a not-so-hint-e official couple (if there are objections, just comment~), so I figured they needed it. *laughs*
Warnings: Blood, more fighting, Ivan being ebvil (a cute form of evil). Poor Natalia loses it. ^__^; *pets her* Mild swearing. Debatably joking mentions of bondage (read: police handcuffs), Germania/Rome (more obvious than usual). There's also a random OC, but he's a middle-aged male Russian mafia member. Not much Mary-sue potential there. *laughs* Oh, and Hetalia isn't mine. XD
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A grey-blue light blanketed the surrounding world (was it the moon?), while images flicked by, grainy and stained like an old silent film. He'd never known why they were called 'silent:' you could always hear something.
In the background, the noises continued as all else seemed to fade.
-
Hmn?
Katyusha?
Natalia?
Something about metal.
The sink?
No...
That was right: he'd killed.
---
"Sir, with all due respect--"
"Sgt. Rome, you know I you and your partner both in the highest regard, and would love to help if I could, but in this situation my hands are tied."
"Tied my ass! You're the chief of our city's police! If you want to do something, do it!" the usually upbeat Italian slammed his palms to his boss's desk, causing the rest of the room to shake in the process. Rome was a man who rarely got angry, but heaven help those around him when he did.
"I'm sorry, but--"
"But what?! The phones are ringing off the hooks with reports of gunshots and screams coming from a house occupied by--"
"Rome." the voice was familiar, but its tone uncharacteristically pleading.
"You, shut up," the brunette officer spun, roughly poking his partner for emphasis, "I'm not in the mood for your obedience crap right now." Germania winced, and took a step back. It had only been one finger, but damn did it hurt.
Times like these were why Rome and Germania to be assigned as partners. So, technically, Germania was supposed to be trying to stop the other man from murdering their boss, but given the situation, he couldn't be bothered to disagree.
Rome had been an excellent officer, young and passionate with record-breaking arrest rates. Once he set his sights on a task, it would be conquered. Targets would be overtaken. The only problem was that this also seemed to include the administration: Rome didn't stand for corruption, and no one could stand against Rome.
He was fired--several times, actually, and were it not for the sharp rise in crime following his removal from the force, the man would probably still be out of a job. Uncontrollable as he may be, the Italian was a necessary force for city's continued functioning.
Then in came Germania, fresh out of the military and thoroughly conditioned to accept orders. The two had been made a tentative match in hopes that some of Germania's obedience would rub off on their loose-cannon ace. No one had been expecting much; Rome's partners never stayed long, but a small chance was better than none.
A week after his new partner's arrival, Rome caught an officer taking money in exchange for dismissing a reported case of domestic violence. That went over just about as well with Rome as the brunette's outburst did with Germania. When the confrontation ended with Rome knocked out cold and handcuffed to the bars of a holding cell, the match was been solidified. For good.
It took a few years, many broken bones as well as a ridiculous number of cut, scrapes and bruises, but the two eventually settled into a steady, reliable unit: Germania kept Rome in line, and Rome kept Germania from acting like a robot. It worked out well. Most of the time.
"Those kids could be dead--probably are dead, and you're---"
Germania's attention darted from his partner's potentially lethal tirade to the faint buzzing in his pocket. A beep notified him of an incoming call. The blond retrieved his phone before stepping from the room without a word.
Any hopes the police chief had of escaping harm followed the German Sgt. out the door.
-- Forty-five minutes earlier --
Her brother giggled, his breath ragged and arm dragging, gently tracing lines in the frozen earth. The beige coat he'd received last winter had been torn was now soaked in a mixture of blood and snow. Just how much of that blood was his own?
"Katyusha? Why are you apologising?" Ivan voice held the same sing-song tones as usual, but the light in his usually watchful gaze had been replaced by a dulled screen. It was plain to see that no one was home. Not that this came as a surprise. He'd broken five people like porcelain dolls. He didn't even shoot or poison them--the bodies were just smashed. Yekaterina had never even heard of something so brutal.
Oh, please, God, forgive him. Forgive me. Ivan is only a little boy. I should have done more...he was just trying to help. I--
"Kat-yu-sha?" the silver-blond sang, tapping her on the shoulder gently to catch the girl's eye, "what is it?" she wanted to scream.
"Why don't we go inside and have you sit down, Ivan. I'm sure you'll feel better in a bit." in any other condition, he would have noticed the shaking in her voice. The fact that he didn't was further cause for concern.
This was all wrong.
"Net," Ivan's eyes hardened, suddenly snapping back to awareness, "I'll be fine, but these people might not stop, da? We need to get you and Natalia somewhere safe."
"B-brother?" it was Natalia. She stood barefoot in the snow, wide-eyed and smiling, tears sneaking down her face, "what happened, brother?"
"Hello Natalia," Ivan smiled, "we were just about to go and get you." the girl tiled her head, but otherwise didn't respond, "You and Katyusha are going to have to leave."
Small feet lifted, their pace quickening as Natalia fled the sight of what she could only describe as a nightmare.
What has brother done? Brother would never do this! But, he did. I see it before me. So, does that mean that brother is not himself...? Did he go away?
No. No, brother is himself. He is himself and he will stay. He is here! Together with me. We'll always be together. Always, always...
"Brother will come with us?" Natalia's arms sunk into Ivan's sides as she nuzzled into his stomach, "We can be one, then. Together?"
She really was so terrifying, "N-net. Not right now, Natalia. Maybe later. There are a few things I have to take care of first."
"No. Brother will come." Eee! When did this person grow nails sharp enough to be felt through a thick coat?!
"But...uh...Natalia, it's just like when I do the dishes while you and Katyusha head upstairs for a bath~" the young Russian giggled, "I'll come and join you once I'm done with some chores. You two will just go ahead."
Her grip tightened, "But after that, you'll come and be with me?"
"Uh, I'll come and be with you both, da?"
"Forever?"
Humans didn't live that long, but, "Da..."
"Brother and I will be one forever?"
Ivan winced, "N-not exactly...?" Yekatarina shot him a pleading look: Natalia was just very, very. very scared and looking for comfort...probably, "I mean, that's because, Katyusha will be there, too!"
"Together forever, together, together~"
"Uhm...da..." as much as Ivan loved his little sister, being around her for much longer, let alone the rest of time, was quickly becoming a terrifying notion, "Bu-but, before that, you need to be a good girl and do as I say, da?"
"Yes, brother. Anything if it's for brother~" Natalia stared up adoringly from where she kept an anaconda-like grasp on his waist. Blood from his coat had smeared across her face and the look in her eyes was positively the most horrifying thing Ivan had ever seen.
"I-is there any...uhm..." was there even a place his sisters could go to be safe? Anyone they went to would become involved, and it was no use involving someone who couldn't fight back. To rely upon a good hiding place alone was foolish, but...
The detectives. The Italian one, rude as he was, appeared furious at the mere thought of someone hurting children, and his partner clearly knew his way around the human mind. Doubtless, either man would be hell to fight. Ivan didn't like them (especially the fair-haired one...), but there was something about both men that inspired trust.
"Did the officers you spoke to while I was out leave contact information?"
"Hmn? Oh, yes, only Sgt. Germania, though," darn, that was the blond, wasn't it? "Rome forgot his at the station."
"Ah, at least we have one, da?" the pressure around his waist increased, "N-natalia? Could you go and find the number that Sgt. Germania left?" maybe he could get her off by asking for a favour...
"Sister has it in her pocket." Natalia cooed, giving Ivan an extra squeeze.
Oww.
---
Ivan stood with his sisters at the edge of a small park. When he and Katyusha were younger, they would sneak out together at night and climb one of the trees there. If you sat on just the right branch, it was possible to see the games being played at the city's sports arena across the way. The distance wasn't bad, either--only a kilometre or so from their home. Ivan had never liked baseball himself, but he did like spending time with Katyusha and they both liked climbing trees.
There was a game on tonight, and it would be preposterous for anyone to stage an attack in the midst of the scattered crowd. Just enough people to deter open shows of violence, but not enough to provide cover for a covert strike. Banners, signposts and trees blocked the view from above, making sniper shots near impossible.
It was an assassin's nightmare.
"You'll wait here, da?" Ivan looked at his sisters: they'd changed into sets of clean clothes after having washed up and now looked like perfectly normal girls. Natalia sported her schoolbag, while Katyusha held a large rucksack. Each had taken only their essentials.
Ivan, on the other hand, wasn't quite as presentable. He'd washed the blood off, but no matter how hard he scrubbed, his coat remained stained. Being as it was winter and he owned no other suitable outerwear, he had to make do. At least Katyusha had mended the holes and tears.
"I'm sure the marks will come out." Katyusha comforted, sensing the source of her brother's silence.
"Da, thank you Katyusha." how embarrassing to be caught worrying about a coat during a crisis!
"Do you have to go, brother?" Natalia. She'd calmed down somewhat, but the mention of Ivan leaving still made her a bit...uh...clingy...
"Mn. We'll meet up later, though, okay?"
"And then brother and I will join?"
The boy decided to pretend that 're-join' had been said instead of 'join' and continued: "Katyusha will be there too, da~" he turned, eyeing the nearby stadium carefully. There was a phone-booth a block away, but Ivan wondered if there mightn't be a public phone inside...no, best to go somewhere private, "I love you two very much, da? Be careful," the girls nodded, though Yekaterina was openly bawling and Natalia was trying not to cry, "Good! Now, I'm going to leave, so pretend you don't know me, da?" He smiled.
If Ivan had thought he could hug them and be able to let go, he would. As was, he gave a short nod of parting before turning to walk away.
Please, let us meet again.
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Germania had never much liked phones. In fact, he had never got on well with modern technology in general (one of the few things he and Rome could agree on). If someone wanted to say something to him, they could either a.) go find him, or b.) write him a letter. On paper. Computers were just about the only things worse than phones. Phones at least could come in useful now and again--like when you wanted to leave a room but wouldn't otherwise be allowed to.
The phone opened with a snap while the blond raised the device to his ear, "Your name?" conversation via phones was another thing the man didn't care for. Even with caller I.D, you never knew to whom you were speaking until you asked.
"There are two people outside of the entrance to the sports arena. Get to them as soon as you can, da?"
"Who is thi--"
"Uvidimsia, Sgt. Germania~" with that, the line went dead.
Germania clicked his phone shut, glaring at the blasted device it as if doing so could curse the caller into receiving exceptional amounts of physical pain. Despite the fact that he was good at taking orders, Germania didn't like being told what to do. Especially by creepy little brats.
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The blond detective stepped into the police chief's office to find the storm of fury that was his partner. The brunette was still in a heated 'discussion' with their boss. How the sound hadn't carried more clearly into the hallways was a mystery, "Rome. We're going for a drive."
"No, we're not. And when the Hell did you get back in here?"
"Just now. And we are. Grab your coat."
"Listen, Germania, I--" the Italian growled in frustration as his partner threw a jacket at his head. That was it. He'd been good about violence, but Germania really needed to be hit. Didn't he see that these kid's lives were at stake?!
The chief allowed a particularly unmanly squeak to sneak past his lips as Rome swung for his partner's head.
The throw missed its target, connecting instead with Germania's hand, where it was promptly caught in one end of a handcuff. The other clamped into place soon after.
Shit. That's right. This guy knows how to fight and is quick with the restraints.
Rome forcefully ignored the voice in the back of his head cackling about something having to do with the word 'kinky.' It may be generated by his own brain, but he still didn't want to know. Not now, at least...
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Germania had never been a man of many words, but the chief wished that he would sometimes let those around him know what he was doing. It made all the difference between 'I'm throwing my partner in a cell because he's being aggressive,' and 'I'm taking my partner home to 'work off' some aggression.'
If you get what that means...
For a pair of BDSM fetishists, they sure are effective officers...
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"Listen, you kinky bastard--" ergh, there was that voice again! And this time he'd said the thought out loud.
"What?" Germania didn't even turn around to look as he all but literally dragged Rome through the halls of the station. They were getting weird stares, but that wasn't anything unusual. What wasn't there to stare at? Especially given his own good looks...
Rome went skidding forward as a sudden tug almost sent him slamming into the station's front door. He was strangely reminded of when he'd decided to conquer some mob-run bar and Germania handcuffed him to the wheel of their car for the night. Apparently, raiding criminal hot-spots without warrant is a crime. Pfff!
Actually, to be more accurate about it, the blond had handcuffed Rome to the wheel so that the he could be more easily tied into the seat. It was only as an afterthought that the cuffs were left on. That had been weird-stare central, but at least they eventually got to do the raid.
"Why did you stop me? You realise what's happening?!"
"Actually, were something to have been happening, it would currently be done."
"How can you be so fucking heartle... wait...were?" As in conditional tense usage? Like, 'if such a thing were to be the case...?' "Fine, I get the point. I'll follow."
"I wasn't giving you a choice."
"You smug---Oww! What the heck?! Quit tugging that! It hurts!"
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Germania had taken his personal car instead of their police cruiser. He never drove his own car for work. It wasn't particularly expensive, but the blond was profusely paranoid about--actually, Rome had no idea what about. The blond was just antsy and paranoid in general.
Something was up.
"You can unchain me now, you know."
"Probably."
"You probably know or you could probably unchain me?"
"A little bit of both; I'm currently occupied by driving."
"Then pull the fuck over!" the Germania sighed in exasperation, as if what his partner was asking were totally unreasonable, but did as he was told, "why are we out here, anyway? I followed 'cause it sounded like you knew something."
"No, you followed because I was dragging you. You stopped struggling because you thought that I know something, which I do."
"...bastard. What is it, then?"
Germania produced the keys from some unseen pocket and proceeded to release his reluctant passenger, "It's about that call I took in the middle of your argument. I think it was Ivan Braginski."
"Wait, what? Isn't that the one you said was really creepy?"
The blond nodded, smoothly manoeuvring the car had been idling back into the stream of traffic, "He called, notified me that there were two people outside of the entrance to the city sports arena that we should go find post haste."
"That was it?"
"No, he also said something along the lines of 'see you' in Russian."
"Uhm... that is creepy."
"Indeed. But, creepy as he is, I believe he has his family's best interests at heart. Thinking back on when I spoke to him, I'm fairly certain he'd been trying to chase me off in order to defend his sisters."
"Oh, yeah, 'cause you made them cry. Jerk."
"You met them. They're fragile."
"Doesn't that make it worse?!"
"Depends who you're asking, but that Braginski boy certainly thought. I can't see him tolerating much when it comes to harming his sisters. If he's alive, then so are they."
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Ivan watched from the safety of a shaded corner across the as a markedly nondescript-looking vehicle pulled up to the curb near where his sisters stood. He tensed, momentarily nervous that the car's occupants might be dangerous, but soon a familiar brunette head popped out and all fears were allayed. Sgt. Rome waved Natalia and Yekaterina over while Sgt. Germania busied himself analysing the area.
Analysis was never good. Especially when it was being done by that man; Ivan got the feeling the older blond didn't miss much.
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If anything, the Braginski house was more of a mess when Ivan returned to it than it had been before he left. It was also on fire.
After a little more than an hour of searching, he confirmed that the bodies were also missing. Either that or they had burnt along with the building.
The sound of a snapping twig and a string of Russian swears alerted Ivan to the presence of another. He faced the direction of the newcomer, grip tightening on his faucet pipe, but smile never faltering. Ivan had never known how convenient fallen branches could be until people started trying to kill him, "I should thank you for disposing of the bodies for me. I've never done it before, so it would have been difficult, da?"
A soft grind and a click was his only reply. Another gun?
"I've already been shot a few times tonight. I'm not sure if you noticed, but I'm still standing, da."
"I'm a good shot." the speaker was male, with short, dusky-brown hair, and an angular face. He wore the same dark clothing as the men that had attacked Ivan's home, but carried with him only one weapon. No mask, no gloves, nothing to his identity. Whoever he was, his primary occupation wasn't that of a killer.
Ivan hummed, "But I'm decently far away and it's dark. I could dodge, da? How long have you been out?"
"Since long before you arrived. Why? You think I came here just for you?" the brunette gave a rough laugh, and pulled the trigger. He missed.
Another shot. Another miss.
And again.
Why were his hands shaking? He wasn't scared, but...
"You're having trouble shooting, da?"
Miss.
Miss.
Miss again.
What was with him today? He'd wasted more than half of his rounds. It was this blasted shivering.
The man blinked, startled, as he realised that he'd lost his concentration and let the brat get close enough to strike with his metal rod. It also decreased the chances of a shot missing.
The brunette pushed down on the trigger, but instead of the familiar blasting noise, heard a crack. His legs gave way under him, and he fell, knees smashed, to the snow.
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Looking down, he giggled in delight, kicking the firearm easily from his opponent's hand.
All things considered, it was a bit unusual that Ivan had noticed: the man's body was shaking. The uniform gloves seemed to be only to avoid leaving fingerprints, and the face-covering ski-masks to hide one's identity, but they also did something else: provide warmth. It was well below freezing, and would have made sense to wear heavier clothes. If this person were a member of some sort of crime cover-up team, it would make sense to dress light and move quickly. But having sat in wait, watching Ivan for over an hour (and accounting for the time he'd been outside before that), there was little to no chance that the man wasn't in a state of moderate, nearing severe hypothermia. Shaking, loss of feeling, confusion, uncooperative muscles--it was the worst condition for a marksman to try to shoot in. His hands might even refuse to move.
"Prosti menya~ It seems that every time someone points a weapon at me, my attackers end up on the ground. It's bad to hurt people, but everyone keeps refusing to play nice and get along." the boy knelt, applying light pressure to the older man's now-smashed knees.
"Shhhiii---the fuck is wrong with you?!" Ivan ground down harder and let loose a short laugh; this person was funny! Had he forgotten that he'd been trying to kill the boy a moment earlier? "I mean--fu--what do you want from me?"
"Ah! That's much better!" the pressure let up and the assassin sighed in relief. There was crazy and then there was Crazy. This kid was Crazy with a capital 'c.' It was no real surprise--he'd met the brat's father and could only imagine the sort of head-games a person like that would inflict on an innocent brat, "Now, I'd like you to tell me who sent you and why."
"You nuts? If I do that, the boss'll kill me!"
The boy frowned, "Da, but if you don't, then I'll kill you."
Somehow, that wasn't hard to believe. Better to appease the deamon before you than the one soon to come... "We're from the Russian mafia. The boss sent us since it's policy to kill traitors and their families. I'm just part of the recon team."
"Why their families?" silvery-blond bangs dusted across large purple eyes as the youth tilted his head in genuine confusion.
"Your eyes are purple." a stupid statement, but the man had never seen anything even remotely like it.
"Da. But that has nothing to do with what I was asking." another giggle.
Shit, even if this kid doesn't smash me to death with his metal pipe or whatever it is, I might still die of fear.
"What's your name?" Got'ta regain the upper ground. Bring him back to my pace.
"Hmmn... that wasn't a bad attempt, but you go first~" fuck. So the boy was just like his dad when it came to reading people...
"Gleb."
"I'm Ivan. It's nice to meet you."
"Uh, yeah." y'know, in the way that having my kneecaps smashed can count as 'nice.'
"I asked before, but why the family, too?"
"Blackmail. No one wants their families dead. It also prevents little bouts of revenge like yours." Gleb was rather surprised to have his statement met with a laugh.
"I'm not interested in avenging my father, da. It was kind of funny to hear how he died," Funny? Yeah, sure the guy was an evil shit, but funny? "he let his pride in his ability to read others get in the way of his reading others~"
Well, when he put it like that, it kind of was ironic. Gleb smiled.
"Ah! You smiled! We have the same sense of humour, da!"
"Yeah, I guess." well, it was amusing...
"What sort of person is your boss?" by this point, the boy looked simply delighted. It was as if his family weren't marked for death and his house weren't burning a few yards away.
"Eh, he's a bit of a jerk. Good at what he does, though. Why?"
"He's good at it? Isn't he a bit overcautious? Surely, if your group is as strong as you say, it wouldn't need to worry about revenge attempts from children~"
"Children grow into adults," Gleb looked Ivan up and down, noting his seemingly solid frame and the steady way he held himself. His file'd said he was twelve. If he was able to take out a full team and the recon agent at twelve, what would he be capable of as an adult? How transparent would others' minds become? "even a person who's harmless when he or she's little, could turn into something dangerous when big."
The boy hummed, "To me that just sounds like he's afraid of his weakness being seen. Kind of like a tiny dog that always barks, da?" Gleb looked on in wonder as the boy stood and dusted the snow from his jacket. He moved to the gun and pocketed it before turning to leave, "it was brave of you to not talk, da? Even after I hurt you, you still didn't say a thing~ How loyal!" he giggled, kicking the older man closer to the burning building before heading off into the nearby trees. Was he trying to stop Gleb from freezing? "Hmmn, but I'm just a little boy... children don't know much, da? They're even sloppy enough to mistake things like courage and loyalty for defeat~" another giggle danced through the air as the boy dissapeared from sight, "Uvidimsia, Gleb!"
The sound of the boy's cheerful gait followed him into the woods, and Gleb felt his abnormally racing heart slow in his chest. He hadn't noticed it been beating so quickly. What had that been about? Not only leaving his enemy alive, but also providing an excuse? Braginski senior was a creep, but this junior was...
The injured man wasn't certain about the other's motivation, but he did know one thing for sure: kid or no, Ivan wasn't someone he wanted to cross.
God help us if he ever grows to be an adult.
---
Ivan smiled to himself, humming into the frigid night air. He had made good progress this evening. Not only were his sisters relatively safe, but evidence of any crime had been taken care of. He'd also learnt a few things, and placed a foothold for future use. It was really better than he could have hoped for.
What he needed now was more information:
It's very poor judgement indeed to move a piece without knowing the terms of the game.
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Ending Note:
Russian:
Net - No.
Uvidimsia! - Something along the lines of 'see you!'
Gleb - A common boy's name. It's pronounced GLYEB (caps show emphasis). Totally random, but Ivan's name would be pronounced eeVAHN. EYEvan is a non-Russian way of saying the name. :3
Prosti menya - An informal apology. You'd use it with friends. Ivan's just being cute and snuggly.
Random Notes:
Late chapter is late, but long chapter is also long! '__'; Hopefully that makes up for it? X___x;;; The next chapter should be out sooner. Sorry again for the delay! ^__^;
Oh, Rome. Poor, poor Rome. Please excuse the police chief's bizarre theory that having alternative interests should somehow decrease your work performance. '__'; He's a bit dumb like that (which is why he gets written out! :D Yay! ).
Ahaha, and Gleb. The poor thing. Whatever he's thinking Ivan's up to is totally wrong. *laughs*
For anyone wondering, yes, the hypothermia is General Winter in the AU-verse. Ivan, may the freezing bitter, arse-numbing winter always be on your side. XD
A random apology for not having Yao show up yet. I hope that Ivan's story is worth reading on its own for now. I really want to explain why he is how he is and the reasons behind his actions before getting into any romance, because as much as I love the guy, Ivan can be a bit cruel. I don't plan to take that aspect of his character away, so he'll need fairly careful development to make any snuggly-lovey non-abusive relationship reasonable. '__';;; Once Yao does come in, he's going to be the main focus for some time, so, with luck that'll make up for his current absence. ^__^;;; But, yes--sorry about the wait! __;
Annd, if you read, please review! Even a word or two to let me know that you're reading would be fine. Reviews are my life-blood and speed updates, so, uh... please? You can send ebvil (live evil, only more cute) mini!Ivan after your enemies if you do? :D [ WTF XDD ]
Until next time~