Chapter 9: Heroes Don't Sneak

"I always find it's easier to see the world in black and white. Grey? I don't know what to do with grey."
-Garrus Vakarian, Mass Effect 2

Alfred quickly found himself getting used to going on patrol with Ivan. There was something exciting about it; getting dressed up every night, meeting him in an alleyway somewhere so that no one could see them, discussing their next target to the faint dim of a lighter, the thrill of bringing justice in the right way. Had Ivan not been Ivan, Alfred would have deemed him a worthy sidekick, but he was far too intricate for such a title.

It was like an unending streak of date nights, only without, you know, the actual dating. True, they were together, put on some nice clothes, talked with each other, held hands when one pulled the other into hiding- ahem. But it wasn't like dating at all, despite those factors. They didn't really talk about their private lives, or Alfred would ask and Ivan would refuse to answer. They didn't stare lovingly into the other's eyes like blubbering dopes. They didn't kiss at the end of their 'dates'… Although Alfred was sure that if he allowed the emotional blockage to break, he would want Ivan to kiss him breathless.

Instead he thrived on the thrill of sneaking away into the night, of capturing true baddies by the collar. Ivan's name and fame diminished under the guise of Alfred's heroic antics until he was nothing but a memory. Alfred couldn't possibly imagine being content with people forgetting about his existence, but Ivan couldn't care less. Said it only aided him in achieving his goal. Sadly, Alfred hadn't foreseen everything.

It happened one non-particular Friday evening, when instead of going away with Ivan he was invited to dinner over at his brother's place. Matt and Gilbert were celebrating their two-year anniversary, and of course Alfred was the first the join in with the festivities. However, after some glasses of wine and banter about the reality of zombie apocalypse games, Matthew got oddly inquisitive.

"Say Alfred, I haven't hear anything about Ivan lately. What's that all about?"

Alfred, more than a little intoxicated himself, waved his hand in dismissive gesture, drink all but spilling from his glass as he swayed it around. "Oh that, I got him to stop a looooooong time ago bro, don't worry about that."

Gilbert was singing a song as he put their plates in the kitchen, but Matthew frowned through his daze. "What do you mean? You put him to jail without anyone noticing? Usually when you catch a bad guy the media's the first to know about it!" If one thing, Matthew never got less articulate when he was buzzed, only a little more loose or – if the situation called for it – a little more open about his thoughts.

"Pssssht, you worry too much bro!" Alfred laughed, twinge of nervousness suppressed by a veil of alcohol.

Matthew frowned into his glass, radar work of his brain a tad slow but still working as hard as it could. Gilbert came in with dessert, Alfred howling appreciatively. But before he was allowed his share of cake, Matthew suddenly grabbed him by the wrist.

"Ow! What the hell Mattie, let me eat my-"

"Alfred. You… You didn't put Ivan in jail, did you?"

Alfred frowned, unsure what the other was getting at. "…So?"

"Then what did you do with him?"

Under different circumstances he could have conjured up a lie of some sorts. Not now. Still caught in Matthew's hold, he half-shrugged. "Does it matter bro? As long as he ain't killing people no more, he's no threat!"

Matthew's grip grew painful, Alfred squirming around uncomfortably. "You know where he is, don't you? You know where he is and you're not handing him over to the police."

"Whatever!" Alfred burst through his brother's unending line of questions, throwing his hands up in the air and out of Matthew's grasp. "Does it even fucking matter?! As long as he ain't hurting anyone, does it-"

"He killed people Alfred. You know that better than anyone else. He can't escape justice."

"But maybe he had a good reason to!"

"What on earth would be a good reason to rob people of their lives?"

"I'm not saying it was a good thing to do but that doesn't necessarily mean he's evil!"

"Murderers are evil Alfred!"

"Well then maybe not all evil is the same!"

Gilbert sat frozen between the two bickering brothers, gaping open-mouthed at the way their faces contorted into angry sneers. Matthew was leaning heavily over the table, lips drawn back in a furious hiss, while Alfred was practically flexing his muscles as he leant back in his chair. "…Anyone want cake?" he tried, but it was in vain.

"Why are you protecting him Alfred? Why?!"

"I ain't protecting him!"

"Bullshit!"

"No! He'd only need my protection if he really was evil, but he's not! He's actually quite a good guy! Okay he killed a few but-"

"Alfred, you actually like him?!"

Alfred stuttered, wanted to deny all accusations, but the blush spilling faintly onto his features betrayed his true feelings. Matthew was absolutely astonished for a full minute, Gilbert not sure whether he should try and joke away the weird atmosphere or comfort his lover. Then, Matthew shot out of his chair, walked around the table and roughly pulled Alfred up.

"Hey, what are ya doin'?!"

"Clearly you can't think straight, so I'm taking you to Ivan right now."

"The hell?! Why?"

"Because we're going to arrest him."

"No way."

"Yes way. You've somehow convinced yourself to like a murderer. The only way to get rid of those, those… delusions, is by getting rid of the source. Ivan's going to jail. Killers deserve to go there."

"No- Mattie, let go."

"It's for your own good Al."

"No- LET GO!"

He hadn't meant to do it, he really hadn't. It was out of pure frustration that he swung his hand up. He wasn't aiming for Matthew at all, never would think himself capable of the act. Which is why the sound of skin slapping together sent a weird monotone peep to his ears. Eyes widening, he could only watch as Matthew's hands shot up to cover his cheek, figure crippling and hunching as he slowly sunk to the ground, knees hugged tightly to his body. He couldn't believe this was happening.

Chair scraping back, Gilbert was at Matthew's side in an instant. He was saying something, probably telling Matthew it wasn't that bad and that he should put some ice on it, but the words didn't register with Alfred. Blood was pumping in his ears, vision black at the edges. He had never hit Matthew before. Never, not once in his lifetime. Not even when they were kids, when roughhousing was a part of daily exercise, he never hit Matthew. Never.

Finally, when the ice holding him back seemed to melt, he shot to action. Kneeling down next to Matthew, he held his hands out, moved them in the air, unsure where to place them. "Oh God Mattie I'm so sorry I didn't mean to, please don't be- I, I'll get you some ice, please be-"

"…Get out."

Alfred hackled, choking on his own spit. "W-what?"

Matthew's head snapped up, look in those gentle eyes both fierce and cold. "Get out Alfred. Now. Before I do things I'll regret."

Alfred wanted to protest, but Gilbert slowly shook his head at him, a silent request to leave Matt alone for a while. Alfred deflated, nodding once. He stood on wobbly legs and left, hoping some time alone would heal the wound he had inflicted- and not just the physical one.

xoxox

He shouldn't be calling Ivan right after this. He shouldn't feel the need to be with him. Ivan was the source of the problem, just like Matthew had said. He knew that all too well. Ivan may not necessarily be evil, he was still a very morally ambiguous man. Not the kind of guy good-natured people should be hanging out with. Because of Ivan he had left the path of pure virtue, had begun doubting his actions, had struck Matthew. Because of Ivan he could no longer imagine himself roaming the streets alone, heart aflutter every time he met up with the other.

When exactly did he realize he had fallen for Ivan? Maybe he'd known all along, maybe it happened the first time he pleasured himself to the thought of those leering amethysts. It didn't matter- he could never be with Ivan that way. It was the least he could do to protect himself from further harm. Being with Ivan had no future, no good outcome. It would be sneaking about, a mere thrill-seeking. A mere temporary fling.

Which is exactly why his fingers pounded in that already familiar number. Ivan didn't question the strange hour of his calling, simply told him he would arrive shortly. It was only after opening the door to that dishevelled coup of platinum that Alfred realized he'd never had Ivan in his house before.

Ivan took small interest in the room, couch having a definite Alfred-shape melted into it, lack of a kitchen only separated by a crate which could have been called a table. Alfred didn't live the luxurious life, despite earning enough. Most of his money went to video games and good food, not furniture.

"What is wrong?" Ivan asked after being seated with a glass of cola, which he casually spiked with a hint of vodka.

"Why would anything have to be wrong?" Alfred asked, Ivan sending him a look that only proved he eyed quite befuddled. Patting the empty space next to him, those usually mocking eyes were friendly as he invited him over. Who knew Ivan had it in him to show such normal emotions?

Alfred hesitated, then sauntered over like a cautious animal, eyes cast down when his rear hit the cushions. Ivan's smile was open, asking wordlessly for him to tell his story. Alfred couldn't look at him, folding and unfolding his hands in his lap, suddenly afraid his body would betray how much their closeness was affecting him. He'd never known about that unconscious need to lay his head on someone's shoulder, but there it was, and he simply had to think over and around it.

"I… I had a fight with my brother."

"Ah, Matthew?"

Alfred wanted to frown, but pouted instead. "I'd ask you how you know, but then I'd just be repeating earlier conversations."

"Clever boy. Why did you fight?"

Alfred shuffled around, toes curling inside his grey woollen socks. A gift from Mattie, he now realized, making the situation even more awkward.

"About uh, about you." As soon as he said it, he could feel his ears flushing red. Okay, this was far more embarrassing now that he thought about it. Maybe inviting Ivan over was the worst thing he possibly could have done, maybe it would be the death of him.

Ivan paused, then slowly set his drink aside. Alfred panicked at the deliberate movements, his story spilling from his mouth like a tidal wave.

"Matt- he knows, that I'm not planning to bring you to court. I don't think he knows we're actually teaming up, or maybe he does, but then he'd probably have killed me even more. But he kept calling you a murderer, and I know that technically you are, but he just made so, so angry, and I- I hit him. I didn't want to, but I hit him, and God you should've seen the look on his face, like I was betraying him. I'm never gonna forget about that look. But this- what we're doing is wrong right? Or not? I don't know anymore Ivan, I'm all confused and maybe I should just stop trying to be a hero because I clearly ain't one, because who the fuck ever heard of heroes sneaking through the night with someone who's known to the public as a villain, and-"

His breath broke in a surprised sob when an arm firmly pressed him to a broad chest. His cheek was stuffed against the soft fabric of a knitted pullover, perhaps something Ivan had made himself. The angle was a bit awkward, his figure bent to the side in an odd crook, glasses digging into his flesh. But then Ivan put his other arm around Alfred as well, tucked the smaller man's head against his neck to the nice scent of his scarf, and when those hands began rubbing soothing circles Alfred felt himself trembling.

"I am sorry for putting you through this, dorogoy. You are free to leave any time if that would make you feel better. Just let me do the work, and I promise to keep quiet and not make my actions known. I won't be a bother to you, and I can slip away once my work is done."

Alfred chewed his lips, question burning his tongue and finally his lips as the air was forced out of him.

"So… you're gonna leave once your work here is done? Just like that?"

The words had been a bit muffled by Ivan's clothes, but he heard them nonetheless. Gently tucking his callused finger pads under Alfred's chin, he tilted his head up. Alfred shivered at the way those eyes studied him, lips sealed tightly.

A thumb began stroking his cheekbone, Alfred feeling a blush forming underneath. He couldn't have looked away even if he wanted to.

"Would you miss me?" Ivan muttered, long eyelashes stroking his porcelain cheeks. Alfred swallowed, adam's apple bobbing against the knuckles resting to his throat. He couldn't answer, left speechless by the invisible bridge of electricity buzzing between their faces.

So close. Too close.

He shouldn't want to kiss a killer. It wasn't just morally ambiguous, it was plain wrong. Good or bad, or something in between, murder was murder.

But when the other still hadn't moved in after several moments of staying so close, an involuntary whine gurgled out of him. A soft keening noise, something begging to be touched, caressed and held, something needing intimacy and tenderness. He was the Iron Eagle, protector of the helpless, college student who loved weight lifting and video games about war. But right now he didn't feel powerful at all, moment of breaking growing closer the longer he couldn't feel those lips upon his own. He didn't know if he'd be able to handle rejection right now, not his pride, nor his heart.

Which is maybe why it was better that they were interrupted by someone bursting through the door.