A/N : I said, er, mostly fluff, right? Right.

Chapter 18

Hide and Seek

Alfred could barely keep his hands off of Ludwig these days, and Ludwig was all smiles, very content to stay there within Alfred's arms every time he came forward and grabbed him up.

In fact, Ludwig was so cooperative that he usually squirmed around in Alfred's arms and burrowed away into his neck and shoulder, very fervently snuggling up against him even as they stood upright.

No one had snuggled up to Alfred since he had been a child.

Couldn't get enough of it, couldn't get over the feel of having someone in his arms in the morning. Had always woken up alone.

Alfred hoped, above all else, that Ludwig understood that Alfred wasn't going to be letting him go anytime soon. Hoped that Ludwig felt as strongly for Alfred as Alfred did for him, that this was a mutual falling in love.

Hoped.

Would have crushed him if he had actually gotten the nerve to ask Ludwig to come home, to ask him to marry him one day, to ask him to stay with him forever, only for Ludwig to say that he had been merely wanting a comfortable fling in Ivan's absence. That Alfred just wasn't good enough for the long term.

Woulda keeled over dead.

Ludwig gave no sort of indication that that was the case, seemed very glad to see Alfred, seemed happy to have him there, and always spoke of them in the future tense. 'We will'. Ludwig intended to keep Alfred around, and Alfred did his best to give Ludwig reasons to want him around.

By then, Alfred had already staked his invisible claim on Ludwig, considered him his property as it were, and had absolutely no intentions of ever letting him go.

Would never have been able to explain to anyone how inexplicably astounding it was to sit there on the couch, Ludwig straddling him, holding Ludwig steady by the waist as Ludwig's hands held his face, and to just sit there together, comfortably, foreheads pressed together and murmuring to each other through the night.

Alfred was loud and obnoxious, arrogant, always showing off, and so it was actually a little confusing in a way to feel just as on top of the world when he was quiet in Ludwig's hands. The way his chest tightened and he felt jittery when Ludwig smiled at him. Alfred had only ever had himself, had only ever cared about himself, and caring for someone else so suddenly and so fervently was a little overwhelming.

Alfred went to pick Ludwig up one evening with another dumb bouquet of flowers, and when Ludwig had smiled at him quite blindingly (so close to that smile in the photo!), Alfred had actually tripped over his own feet on the way to the desk.

Felt like Ludwig had cast some spell over him that made him dumber than he already was.

Some of his favorite moments, though, were the times when they lied together on the couch under the blanket and watched television, Ludwig's fingers running mindlessly over his chest. The entrancing sound of Ludwig's deep voice when he muttered and whispered.

Alfred had found his place, and wouldn't leave anytime soon.

Spring came.

The snows began to melt, and didn't come back except for an occasional gentle flurry. Alfred looked forward to the things they could do together in good weather, tried to pretend that everything was perfectly fine. That he and Ludwig were just a normal couple in love, and absolutely no shadows hung over them.

Sometimes, despite Alfred's best efforts, that illusion shattered.

One Friday night, they found themselves on the couch as usual, splitting a bottle of wine in a now rare moment. Things had settled; Ludwig hadn't taken any sleeping pills since Alfred had first denied him one, and hadn't turned to wine to knock himself out. Instead, Ludwig had leaned entirely on Alfred, and now they drank a bottle every other week or so on the weekend, like normal people.

Ludwig was hanging on Alfred's every word as he spoke, and he knew that Ludwig was hoping Alfred would get tipsy and give him more of that Southern accent that Ludwig for some reason actually liked.

Sure enough, Ludwig burrowed a little into Alfred's chest, walked fingers up his shirt, and asked, "Aren't you ever going to teach me some nice Southern slang?"

Alfred snorted, and threw Ludwig a bone by uttering, "I cain't."

Ludwig smiled into Alfred's neck, and purred, "Please?"

Hard to resist Ludwig on a normal day, but when Ludwig lowered his already deep voice into that guttural rumble, Alfred was done for.

He gave in, took a deep breath, and bit down his pride to look over at Ludwig and say, with as much hillbilly twang as he had grown up with, "Alrighty, then! How 'bout tomorrow we go over yonder to the park, 'cause I'm fixin' to lose my marbles stuck all up inside this house—"

Ludwig sat up a little straighter, and asked, eagerly, "Yonder?"

"Bless your heart. Over yonder means over there," Alfred clarified, and Ludwig snorted. "We can go walkin' in the woods and see what kinda varmints we can find out there. Lot's'a boomers around these parts, and y'all got some weird kindly birds, so I reckon we'll..."

Alfred trailed off, smiling away, because Ludwig had started laughing, and couldn't stop.

Alfred smiled over at him, and wasn't offended that time at someone laughing at his accent, because he knew that Ludwig liked it and was laughing because he was happy.

Alfred was captivated by Ludwig, absolutely mesmerized by him, and was perfectly immobile when Ludwig grabbed his collar and pressed his nose into Alfred's, murmuring very sultrily, "I love it when you say 'Ah'."

It was strange how one person could hear Alfred saying 'I' and laugh at him derisively for pronouncing it as 'Ah', and another person just loved it. And what Ludwig loved was obviously the most important thing to Alfred, especially when Ludwig was gazing at him with those lidded eyes, looking one second from jumping him.

Yes, please.

Alfred suddenly burst into a fit of giggles, if only because he felt so ridiculous, and above that so lit up by the closeness of Ludwig. Ludwig made him feel like a hyper little kid without even trying.

At Alfred's laughter, Ludwig dissolved into more of his own, and it was quite a nice moment then, as they butted heads and finished off the last of the wine in between snorts.

Alfred was head over heels for this strange man.

And then Ludwig's phone suddenly rang, in the middle of that laughter, and Ludwig pulled it out and answered it without even looking at it, as he always did, because it was only ever Gilbert or Toris that called him. Alfred hadn't thought anything of it, holding Ludwig up against his chest tightly and feeling nearly giddy.

Ludwig lifted the phone up to his ear and said, airily, "Hallo?"

In a second, his smile had dropped, and Alfred felt a skip of his heart when Ludwig suddenly bolted upright and away from him, jaw clenched and looking suddenly very pale. A sharp inhale, and Alfred was already bristled and ready for a fight as Ludwig's pulse started hammering away in his neck.

Alarm.

Didn't know what was happening, at least until Ludwig suddenly breathed, in a low, distressed voice, "Oh— Please, Ivan, please don't do this—"

A rise of fury, wrath, and then Alfred could hear the voice coming from the phone, screaming, that awful shrieking that only Ivan was capable of. The bastard! How dare he call Ludwig's phone, when Ivan knew that Gilbert monitored Ludwig's phone records so carefully. Was growing bolder and bolder, every time, and Alfred was so angry then that he snatched forward, ripped the phone from Ludwig's hand, brought it up and screamed right back, "Call this number again and I'm gonna kill you!"

Didn't engage, didn't wait for a response, because Ludwig was already upset and Alfred didn't want to make it worse. Just cut the call then, turned the phone off, and bolted over to the door, checking the lock and examining the windows, just in case. Was positively fuming then, stomping as he was, and his motions were jerky and erratic, as Ludwig sat there on the couch and stared down at the coffee table in shock.

The nerve!

Every time Alfred was determined to settle, Ivan came roaring up out of nowhere and knocked everything off of its axis.

After checking the door, Alfred gave in to his childish temper, for one moment, and turned to the side to punch the wall. Not hard enough to make a hole, as he had tried to restrain himself, but enough to cause a pain in his knuckles. Shouldn't've done that, not with Ludwig there, because the wall had already been patched up far too many times, but Alfred sometimes still fell victim to the manner in which he had been raised.

He was so angry then because he felt as if something that was his had been violated. That shaky claim he had on Ludwig was ever insecure, and Ivan was really Alfred's only threat and obstacle to having the life he had always wanted.

Ludwig stared at Alfred from the couch, as he fumed and stomped, and was very still and very quiet. Pretending to be invisible.

Anger vanished, exhausted, and Alfred slumped entirely, raising a hand to his forehead.

Uneasy. Anxious. Thinking back on those nights he had awoken in a fright to a shadow at the window. Sometimes, Alfred wondered if he really had been dreaming after all, if maybe Ivan was a little closer to them than Alfred would have liked, if perhaps encounters had been more frequent than Alfred had known.

When Alfred finally came over and threw himself down beside Ludwig, Ludwig stared straight ahead at the piano and suddenly murmured, "He's never going to let me go. Never. I should..."

Alfred reached out and grabbed Ludwig's hand, trying to lend him a bit of courage.

Ludwig turned his head and looked at Alfred, and drearily uttered, "You should go. I should go back to him, even if Gilbert disowns me. No one else will get hurt that way."

"Not a chance," Alfred hissed, and gave Ludwig's hand a shake to draw him out of that mood.

No way in hell.

Ludwig's pale eyes ran over his face, a momentary scrunching of his brow, before Ludwig leaned sideways and rested against Alfred's shoulder.

Alfred watched the window all night, and didn't sleep much.

The next Monday, when Ludwig was at work, Alfred did a little shopping, and came home to install some better locks on the windows. The house had a security system, yeah, but a rather inefficient one. One that was more for peace of mind rather than actual use. Just a small alarm that would have gone off at the sound of shattering glass, and little more.

Alfred knew that the only reason Ludwig didn't have a good security system was because Ludwig, until recently, had always wanted Ivan to come home. The last thing Ludwig had ever wanted was police involvement.

Alfred installed a second deadbolt on the backdoor, better locks on every window, and a little security camera at the front door that looked over both the porch and the living room window. Nothing fancy, one of those that you had to pull the card out of to watch the video manually, just something for observation.

Wanted to see, once and for all, if he had been dreaming.

As usual, Alfred didn't tell Ludwig about any of it, and didn't need to. Ludwig noticed the camera immediately when they came home, but may not have realized yet that the windows had new locks.

It was Ludwig who looked over at Alfred then, as Alfred held open the door, to ask, "Bad dreams?"

Alfred's turn to nod.

With that renewed air of fear and paranoia, there was no going outside except for work or groceries. No more reprieve of Gilbert's private beach. No enjoying the warming air and blooming flowers. Spring was creeping up prettily, and Ludwig had to watch it all from behind a pane of glass.

Ludwig must have felt so trapped. A little mouse, stuck in the walls because outside there was an invisible cat, ready to pounce on him at the slightest instance of carelessness.

Being cooped up inside constantly was beginning to take a toll on Ludwig. Could see it there so easily, and Alfred tried to think of things he could do to help.

Just wanted to help.

Couldn't stand that line of tension constantly on Ludwig's forehead as he sadly stared out at the flowering trees lining the street.

That Saturday, Alfred packed up his bag with a blanket and some water bottles, made sandwiches and packed them up, too, and Ludwig watched him suspiciously.

"Going somewhere?"

"Yeah," Alfred said, as he threw the strap of the bag over his shoulder. "So are you. Let's go get the car."

Ludwig might have protested or asked more questions if he hadn't been so ready to actually get out of this house for once.

Alfred looked over his shoulder as usual, and when the car was brought out of the parking garage, Ludwig finally asked, "Where are we going?"

"You'll see. Pass me the keys?"

Ludwig lifted his chin, glared a little, but then tossed the keys in Alfred's face. Alfred caught them with a wink, and Ludwig did warn, as they got in, "Don't you dare crash."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Alfred drawled, and meant it.

Now that the snow was gone, anyway. He was from the South, and didn't drive in snow or ice, admittedly, because then he woulda wound up in a ditch somewhere. Ludwig was in safe hands as long as it wasn't winter, and Ludwig trusted him immensely to let him drive that car to god only knew where.

The trip was a little under two hours, and halfway through Ludwig asked again, "Where are we going?"

"To the Delaware river. I know a few nice little picnic spots. Where we'll be all alone, if you know what I mean."

He clapped his palm down on Ludwig's thigh as he said it, giving him a squeeze, and Ludwig rolled his eyes a little before turning his gaze back to the passing scenery.

Ludwig was elated to be out in nature, and Alfred felt the same. A long time coming.

"How do you know your way around here?"

"When I was new to the city I would drive around a lot. Trying to find spots, just for me, you know? I'm from the country. The city was a little much at first. Out here was my favorite place. My private spot."

Ludwig snorted, and playfully said, "Thanks for sharing your secrets with me."

Alfred smiled, and the trees flew by.

When he finally parked the car, it was upon an isolated hill, up a dirt road. Trees all around, rocks and rolling hills and the river down in the valley. Alfred took Ludwig's hand and let him through the forest and up onto a rock that overlooked the river.

When they were sitting upon the blanket and staring out over the water, Ludwig looked happy.

Alfred had found this place many years ago and had claimed it as his own, because in all the times he had come here he had never once encountered another person. Hadn't been here in years, since he had had to sell his car for quick cash.

The sun glinted off the deep blue river, as Ludwig rested against Alfred's side, and they passed the daylight hours just chatting and enjoying being out in the wild.

A much needed getaway.

When the sun fell and the first stars were visible over the pink and orange of sunset, Ludwig kissed his cheek, and murmured, "Thanks."

A surge of pride, and Alfred pulled himself up and extended his hand to Ludwig. He intertwined their fingers and swung their arms back and forth, just like a little kid alright, as they walked back through the woods to the car.

As always, there was absolutely no one else around, and when Alfred was in the vehicle, he hesitated when he went to turn the ignition.

Instead, he quirked a brow, locked the doors, and turned to Ludwig, reaching up and crooking his finger in the air. Ludwig appeared familiarly condescending, even as he obeyed Alfred and leaned across the seat just a bit.

"There's no rush to get home," Alfred said, voice low and likely mischievous.

Alfred was just trying his luck, testing the waters, seeing how far he could get. He had only been half-serious, so he was actually quite shocked to find himself thirty seconds later with the driver's seat pushed all the way back and Ludwig straddling him, the top of Ludwig's head brushing the roof of the car as Alfred tried to suffocate him with his tongue.

The windshield and windows were already quite fogged up, as the cold air outside couldn't keep up with the intense heat inside that automobile.

A little cramped, trying to fit Ludwig's long legs around stocky Alfred as Ludwig could barely fit in between Alfred and the steering wheel, but where there was a will there was a way.

And there was a lot of will, particularly when Ludwig was breathing very heavily.

There was a minor issue, however, when enthusiastic Alfred sank his teeth into Ludwig's pale neck and Ludwig clenched his fingers in Alfred's hair, before the moment was unceremoniously ruined by a noise outside. Just a branch or something, creaking in the heavy March wind. Alfred didn't think anything of it, but Ludwig inhaled and jumped, wrenching back and immediately breathing, in a panic, "What was that?"

Alfred yanked Ludwig back in, reassuring, "Nothin'. Just the wind."

A bad line from a million slasher films, sure, but really, what else would it be? Probably just some damn birds. Alfred was very happy with the opportunity for car-sex, thanks a lot, and didn't want it ruined by sounds from the forest.

Ludwig tried to settle down, refocused on Alfred, and was quick to run his hands under Alfred's shirt and up through his chest hair. Another few wonderful minutes, as Alfred managed to somehow get Ludwig's ankles up on his shoulders and was fumbling with Ludwig's belt.

But at every little sound of nature, every sway of the branches in the wind, every crack of a twig, every little noise, Ludwig would fall still with an inhale and turn wide eyes to the foggy windows. Absolutely paranoid, it seemed, and well...

Kinda killed the mood, for sure, and Ludwig's anxiety was giving Alfred anxiety.

Tried his best to distract Ludwig one more time by grabbing his hips and grinding him down, and it worked for a fraction of a second, as Ludwig grabbed his face and kissed him, but then another twig somewhere cracked. Once more, Ludwig pulled back with a sharp inhale, and looked to the foggy window even though he couldn't see anything at all.

That time, the jitters were too much, and Ludwig finally whispered, "I'm sorry— I can't, I'm just—"

Fuck, fuck, fuck—

"It's fine," Alfred interjected, to save Ludwig the effort, and because by then he was a little nervous, too. That awful feeling of his stomach twisting and adrenaline coursing.

Hated this, all of it, wished it woulda been done and over with, and often nowadays Alfred regretted not listening to Gilbert and Toris and shooting Ivan when he had had a clear chance back at the mansion. Had missed his opportunity, and now was jumping at shadows.

Another cracking branch or twig, as the wind picked up ever more, and Ludwig squirmed off of Alfred and back over into his seat, breathing through his mouth and looking so nervous as he checked to make sure his door was locked.

Without thinking, Alfred did the same.

"Let's go, please," Ludwig whispered, as if afraid to raise his voice, and Alfred could hear the fear there. When he glanced over, Ludwig was sitting up straight as a board, and Alfred finally turned the ignition. But when he meant to turn on the headlights, something forced him still.

Couldn't explain it. Just one of those irrational and unfounded but extremely potent instances of fright.

For a terrible, heart-stopping moment, Alfred's hand fell still there on the handle, because he was ridiculously afraid then of turning on the headlights. Stupid, so stupid, getting the heebie jeebies as a fully grown man, but damn if Alfred didn't feel that shiver of terror under the surface.

Like some awful horror movie, alright, two horny teenagers making out in a car in the middle of nowhere about to be slaughtered. Turning the headlights on just to see a figure standing before the car, someone lurking there in the dark, someone who had been watching the entire while. Things you could hear but couldn't see.

Stupid.

Alfred set his jaw, found his nerve, and flipped the headlights on.

And there was absolutely nothing there in front of the car.

He started driving, as Ludwig ran a palm over his forehead and the bridge of his nose, and after a long silence, Ludwig once more muttered, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Alfred offered, and left it there.

Not satisfied, Ludwig turned to him, and tried, "I liked it out there, I did. We can go back whenever you want. I didn't—"

"It's alright," Alfred once more interjected, as the roads and street lights passed, and Ludwig sighed.

"No," he grumbled, in a stronger voice. "It's not alright. I can't— I don't wanna keep doing this. I'm sick of it. I am. I hate being scared just to go outside. I don't want to be scared at every little damn noise. I want this all to be over."

Alfred glanced at Ludwig, and snorted a little.

The most emotion he had gotten out of Ludwig when it came to this situation. Now that Alfred was taking Ivan's place, Ludwig seemed a little more annoyed that life wasn't going back to a sense of normality.

Hoped that that meant that Ludwig wanted those divorce papers to be signed.

That surge of sudden defiance in Ludwig extended to their arrival home, and as soon as the door was locked behind them, Alfred barely had time to prepare himself before Ludwig had pounced on him and shoved him down onto the couch. And yeah, Alfred was glad for the subsequent ride he got, but he still kinda wished it had gone according to plan.

Alfred had given in to Ludwig's fears rather than assuaging them, and that was a failure on his part.

Over the coming days, the weather perked up, brightened, the air grew yet warmer, and spring was coming about in full force.

Flowers and vibrant leaves.

Ludwig took everything in decent stride, distracting himself from being unable to go out by being constantly affectionate with Alfred. It might have been stifling to another man, perhaps, Ludwig's perpetual snuggling up against him, but Alfred had been as deprived of love as Ludwig and was quite happy for it.

Everything was peaceful, for another two weeks. Alfred didn't take Ludwig back out to that spot, though. Maybe it would be best to wait until all of this was over and done with.

Seemed like it would never happen, at this rate, and Alfred's agitation was ever growing.

Still, he did his job dutifully, and delivered Ludwig safely to work one morning, as always. Something different that time, though, on his way back out of the skyscraper.

He walked out into the street, as he had a hundred times, as the sun was bright overhead. A shadow stopped him mid-step, and he glanced up, squinting in the light.

And oh, that awful shudder than ran through him at the sight.

Ivan.

He stood there on the sidewalk in front of the building, and his grey eyes instantly locked onto Alfred's quite mechanically. He looked quite the wreck, far worse than he had that day at Gilbert's. His skin was pale, a bit wan. His eyes seemed brighter and more frightening, from the shadows beneath them and also from the shadow above, cast by his brow. His clothes were unkempt, dirty. Not expensive, professional clothes this time, but rather just a cheap button-down, lopsided because one of the buttons was threaded into the wrong loop. Ivan's fawn-colored hair was too long, unwashed and hanging in his eyes. Heavy stubble.

Terrifying, as usual, but more so this time perhaps because of how he stood utterly immobile there in the street and just stared at Alfred.

The most frightening man was one no one could understand, and Ivan was just that. Alfred had no sense of him whatsoever, because it was as if Ivan wasn't actually there. Not all there in any sense. Behind some veil, some mist, half-real, borne from some bad dream.

Not really a man as much as some hellish entity.

Even as the crowd bustled around him and cars sped by, as the city exuded life and vibrancy and speed, Ivan just stood there silently, and made not one single visible movement.

Couldn't let Ivan upset him, couldn't show anger or fear or unease, not in front of that terrifying man. Had to be impervious, and so Alfred lifted his chin in confidence, rolled back his shoulders, and asked, so casually, "Hey, you signed those papers yet? Give 'em to me when you're done."

No response.

Ivan merely remained there, still so eerily statuesque, and didn't twitch a single muscle, staring at Alfred unwaveringly and with very few blinks.

This must have been what it felt like to be stared down by a demon straight from hell, surely, as the hairs on the back of Alfred's neck stood up.

If Alfred was as immobile as Ivan then, it was from sheer nerves.

Alfred spoke again, to say, with more command than he actually felt, "Come back here tomorrow and bring me those papers. Got it? Sign 'em. Let's get this over and done with. So I can have him."

Wanted to get a rise out Ivan, something, anything, because that perfectly still stare was creeping him the hell out. Maybe, in some way, he wanted Ivan to anger and charge him, so that he could have an excuse to shoot the son of a bitch once and for all.

Didn't work; Ivan was ever still.

Their awful impasse was mercifully broken when someone knocked into Ivan and drew him at last from his seeming trance. An inhale, as Ivan stood up straight, blinked, and appeared to wake up. Alfred's hand instantly flew to the hilt of his gun in preparation.

No need; Ivan merely tilted his head, frighteningly, stared at Alfred one final time, before he smiled quite crookedly and then abruptly turned and walked away.

Alfred shuddered again, and watched him go, trailing behind him at a distance.

Ivan stepped down into the subway, and Alfred backtracked to return to the office. The building had security, of course, guards who knew well enough Ivan's face and not to let him inside, and so Alfred wasn't exactly needed.

Didn't wanna scare Ludwig by going back inside and staying the entire day.

Shoulda followed Ivan to the end of the line—

He startled himself at that thought, and furiously turned on his heel to bolt down the street and run down into the subway in a frantic search for that big son of bitch. He popped on his toes, looked over the crowd, and then went to the other platform and looked there, too.

Didn't see him.

Shit. Had missed him.

Alfred spat a curse and trudged back out, berating himself for his own stupidity. Following Ivan all the way would have given him a better inkling to Ivan's location, where he was staying, and that was actually pretty fuckin' important.

Sometimes, Alfred was beyond dumb.

The damage was done, though, and when Alfred brought Ludwig home, he just happened to glance up. Another twinge of anxiety.

The camera was gone.

Ha. Not a dream.

Before Ludwig could notice, Alfred shoved him through the frame, a bit roughly, and Ludwig must have known that something was wrong, for he was very quiet again, as he always was when things were uneasy.

Enough was enough. Alfred was sick of Ivan, absolutely over him, sick of the entire notion of him, his very existence, the problems he caused and the fear he brought out.

It was time to start erasing that bastard.

Alfred finally braced himself, inhaled for courage, and reached out to grab Ludwig's arm. He dragged placid Ludwig up to his chest, and then he lifted his hands and ran them under the collar of Ludwig's sweater to draw up the chain.

An awful collapse of Ludwig's face, as he knew what Alfred doing. But he didn't lift his hands, and didn't protest when Alfred unclasped the chain and removed it from his neck. Alfred glanced down at the ring there in his hand, and knew that it wasn't his to just throw away. But he had some position now, didn't he, some say, and so Alfred clenched it up in his fist, and walked to the bedroom. Ludwig followed him, too closely, very clearly fearful about what Alfred was going to do with his wedding ring, and he looked a breath away from tears when Alfred glanced back at him.

Didn't know what else to do but to pull open the dresser, make a space, and then take the wedding photo and place it inside the drawer. He put the chain and ring down atop it, and then gently pushed it shut. Ludwig would have to be the one to finally get rid of that ring, and Alfred let him keep it then because Ludwig finally tossing it aside would be satisfying to Alfred more than he could say.

As far as Alfred was concerned, that was that. Ivan was done and over with, at long last. Could stand out there every day if he wanted, and it would do him no good. Ludwig and Ivan would never be together again, never, and if that meant that one day Alfred would have to shoot Ivan to get the point across then so be it.

And Ludwig knew it, too, because he dissolved into tears at last, but the fact still stood that Ludwig had let Alfred take that ring away from him, and hadn't protested.

Ludwig knew it was time to let go.

Alfred's resolve had at last been cemented. He resigned himself to having no choice but to trust Toris and Gilbert's insinuations of immunity, he settled his own conscience, and above all else he reaffirmed his need to keep Ludwig safe.

The next time he saw Ivan, in whatever circumstance, he would shoot him, unless Ivan was placing those papers in Alfred's hand.

Toris and Gilbert would handle Alfred's fate from there.

In the morning, Ludwig sat up, as Alfred blearily looked up at him and ran a hand down his back. When Ludwig turned to gaze down at him, Alfred could sense that something had shifted.

Peaceful. Serene.

Ludwig looked calm. Happy.

Alfred smiled then, as Ludwig stared down at him, because he knew that Ludwig had finally let go. It had taken immense measures, impossible patience, grand effort, and the offering of everything Alfred possessed, but Ludwig had finally conceded.

Ludwig let Ivan go.

When Ludwig leaned over and kissed Alfred, that was the first day of their new lives.

Us.

Ludwig got out of bed, stood up straight and tall and confident, and it was clear that he no longer intended to let Ivan drag him down. Wouldn't give in, wouldn't bow, wouldn't be afraid, and it was very easy to see that defiance on Ludwig's face.

Ludwig's love and desire had been redirected, paths had split and objectives had changed, and it was time to move on.

Ivan was only a shadow, and eventually he would fade away, however piercingly those pale eyes stared out from the dark.