How about someone else
A/N – Hello everyone! Guess what, we have arrived at the final chapter of this fucked-up tale of organized crime and illicit romance. You might think this is being cut short, but my intention has been from the very start to make this short and striking ;) I don't know to what extent it really is striking, but I've done my best. I want to thank you guys so much for the support you've given this fic, it really means a lot to me! That being said, enjoy ;)
Tsvetan Borisov – Bulgaria
"Tino?"
Hood pulled low over his forehead, Berwald leaned against a lamp post across from the indicated diner. It was still early, almost half an hour left until the established time, but he was surveilling the area beforehand. Did he expect any nasty surprises? That was an understatement.
"Yes?" the familiar voice he was already missing – badly – came from the other end of the line.
"H-How are you? Is everything okay?" What could he even ask that the Finn wouldn't find suspicious? Or maybe this phone call in itself was suspicious? Berwald didn't know, but he just needed to hear his boyfriend's voice before he delved straight into the stupidest and very likely most dangerous thing he'd ever done.
"Uh… yeah, I'm fine, I guess. Completely broke and with the police after my ass, but otherwise okay. You?"
The Swede bit his lip, clutching the phone and pressing it closer to his ear. There was an almost palpable tension in the other's voice that made him fearful. "I actually wanted to say that I might be able to get some help and-… The only thing I'm slightly worried about is that the inside person who's agreed to help me gave me Arthur's Kirkland's number…"
"Oh?" Tino asked non-committal.
"It was Kirkland who told you I am a cop, wasn't it?" The other didn't answer right away and Berwald went on before he could. It had been a mistake to bring this up, damn. "What I mean to say, do you think I can trust him? Do you think he'll want to help me after-…" Fuck, stop stirring the shit! "I mean help me get the police off your back?"
"You're saying it as if it were possible," the gun dealer observed coldly, pretty much failing to keep the hurt from his tone.
"It is! It really fucking is! All I need to do is prove you were actually working for someone else! That you weren't the actual gun-dealer, that you were a front for someone else!"
A sigh. "… but that's not true, is no one else I'm working for, or with for that matter."
"I know, but I'm hoping that the Magic Club might be able to help us with this! We need another gun dealer we can frame, link them to Vargas and the Russians, or maybe there's no need for that, just link them to you. My guy said they could do that, Arthur could do that… if he doesn't kill me first. Because as things are, he's got no reason to trust me." And Tino had no reason to trust him either…
"Ber, you do realize that I can't do anything to guarantee your protection, right? But I think that if Arthur had wanted to do you in, he would have taken care of it the moment he'd found out."
"Maybe he didn't because he thought you would-"
God, how had he not thought of this before?! Kirkland knew the truth and he could expose Tino to the Russians, if he hadn't already! Was Tino really okay?! What if Ivan was listening to his every word now, a gun held to his boyfriend's head?! Panic gripped him and suddenly he couldn't think straight.
"No one wants to kill a cop unless there is no other solution," Tino told him. "Not even the Magic Club. I don't know about your inside guy though, he stands to lose everything if you suddenly decide to expose him."
Berwald hunched against the lamp post, staring at his boots. "I already took that risk when I went to talk to him in the first place and… it doesn't really matter. But Tino… just tell me that you're safe."
"Berwald, I'm not going to tell you where I am. But I am safe, at least for now."
"I love you."
Some five minutes before the established time, the Swede walked into the diner and sat down absently at one of the tables with cheap red faux leather seats, ordering a black coffee. What if Kirkland wasn't even planning on showing up? It was a little past lunch-time and there were quite a few people inside too, not the shady spot the Magic Club would have chosen if they'd had any foul intentions. Or maybe they didn't even need a shady spot? Tino had told him that Arthur had executed a gang member in the middle of the street, in broad daylight…
"Hey, Berwald," the eccentric Englishman greeted, slipping smoothly into the seat across from the detective, followed by Alin who plopped lazily next to him, resting his elbows on the table.
Most unfortunately, the creepy Norwegian named Bondevik who never spoke but probably ate souls for breakfast sat down right next to Berwald, observing him intently.
"You don't look too good, mate," Arthur pointed without irony. "Things getting stressful lately?"
The Swede took a deep breath and straightened his back, despite Bondevik's unnerving stare. "Look, like I said on the phone, I need your help to keep Tino out of prison and Feliks told me you can make things happen," he stated firmly (or at least he hoped it had sounded that way).
"'Make things happen', wow, we're flattered," Alin laughed. "But speaking of happening, this is one thing I really didn't think would happen!"
"You mean-"
"I mean you risking everything for little Tino. I think it's incredible."
"Incredibly stupid," Bondevik observed, the unexpected sound of his voice nearly making Berwald flinch. It was every bit as sinister as the man himself, the unreal tone of an evil fairy.
"Love is not stupid, you troll!" the Romanian scowled at him, plucking the thin menu from his hands forcefully.
The smiling waitress who had served the detective earlier returned to their table to take the newcomers' order and the three ordered various cringe-worthy flavors of milkshake.
"Love's not stupid when it's really love and not some bullshit," Arthur agreed, his smile disappearing. "So, mate, you said you had an idea on how to go about fixing Tino's problem?"
Berwald was still tense like a bow, uncertain if he was out of the woods yet, but he leaned forward over the table struggling to appear determined and confident. "Look, Arthur, before we talk of this, I must ask you something first. I want to know if Tino is safe right now."
The green-eyed blond tilted his head, genuinely surprised. "What do you mean? Why wouldn't he be?"
"I mean… Ivan and the others didn't find my leaving suspicious or anything?"
The other shrugged. "They weren't planning on sticking together anyway, now that the Italians have been dealt with. Tino left shortly after you, he told Ivan you were going ahead to see if there was anything left back at his shop. Which was zilch, by the way." He sighed. "You didn't think I'd get Tino into shit by telling Ivan your true business, whatever it was, did you?"
Berwald cleared his throat, pushing his glasses up his nose. He'd gone down all avenues in his mind, if he were completely honest. "Actually, Feliks had an idea and I believe it might work. If I was able to find another gun dealer and prove that Tino was only a front for his business, then the focus would be shifted off him and then I could get him off radar completely, in time. But I need a 'legit' gun dealer for this, someone who's got all the necessary connects to bring in the guns and also a solidly established network of clients."
Arthur nodded thoughtfully, bushy eyebrows rising as he pondered, in a manner which made the Swede hopeful.
"That might actually work," Bondevik stated, leaning forward on his elbows in turn, this time not to creep Berwald out (although the man's vibe alone was enough to accomplish that) but to stare intently at the Romanian. "We might even know just the man for the job. Don't we, Alin?"
"Ah, yes," the Englishman agreed. "Lukas is right, we do know someone who kind of fits the description! None other than your Bulgarian friend, Boris-… Boris-ov?"
"Tsvetan Borisov," the Norwegian supplied with precision.
"Borisov is a complete fucktard, remember? That's why we refused to work with him…" Alin looked uncomfortable now for some reason, shoulders sagging slightly as he seemed to withdraw into the backrest.
Bondevik smiled a tiny, almost imperceptible, icy smirk. "He does the job though… And if I remember correctly we refused to work with him because he broke your heart," he snorted lightly, smirk widening. "Think about it, Alin, this is a great opportunity to fuck him back real good…"
"Hey, hey, hey! This isn't about fucking anyone back, it's about helping Tino!" Arthur intervened. "Alin, we think he fits the profile and he could be saddled with this. But the question is, is he worth screwing? Or better said, worth not screwing? I mean, would that impact us negatively? Is he of any use to us right now?"
"No. Of use he really isn't. Fuck him for all I care," the Romanian shrugged eventually.
"Good, then it's settled."
Tsvetan Borisov turned out to be an unexpectedly good catch – his gun dealing business was actually quite significant and he'd sold to the Italians as well at some point, even if they'd not exactly been satisfied with the delivered goods and had decided to switch to a different supplier - namely Tino - later on. Feliks' and the Magic Club's effectiveness and efficiency in helping 'wrap up' Lovino and Feliciano Vargas' case was quite frightening, if Berwald was completely honest. Still, they got the job done and once Borisov and the Italian brothers were convicted, the case was no longer in the 'spotlight'. For now, the Chief Inspector had to settle for what they'd gotten, especially because it seemed that Ivan Braginski and the two girls had vanished off the face of the earth. Also, since their crew had been decimated in the recent war, there was no one left to provide any information on their business and the police didn't have anything on them aside from the confrontation and the confiscated remnants of what had been an impressive arsenal.
But by far the best thing of all was that the Magic Club had agreed to help him free of charge - out of friendship for Tino – and it was a blessing really because the Swede couldn't have possibly afforded what he could only assume was normally a substantial fee for such a work.
Now only one thing remained painfully uncertain – his relationship with Tino.
There was absolutely no guarantee that even under these circumstances the Finn was going to accept to see him again, let alone resume their romance. Berwald had hurt him and betrayed his trust, there was no question about it, and Tino had made it very clear that he didn't take these things well.
Still, against all odds, two months later Tino finally accepted to meet Berwald.
He was rather fearful, not daring to hope anything.
On the phone Tino's voice had still been quite cold and the gun dealer had refused to give him any information about where he was staying and his current plans (not that Berwald had actually dared to ask either). He'd also been the one to pick the meeting place and the setting wasn't encouraging either. Maybe Tino had only waited for the detective to do the job and get him off the hook and now wanted to kill him anyway, for the sake of upholding his personal standards and against all logic and reason Berwald could neither blame him nor heed the silent warning in his head and stay away. He wanted to be with Tino again, he needed him, it was a visceral want he simply could not fight.
He was going to meet his fate, whatever that was, the Swede decided as he climbed the rusty stairs leading to the abandoned building's rooftop. He hadn't even taken a gun with him this time. His hand shook slightly on the doorknob as the door leading to the rooftop swung open with a tired creak, revealing the sight of Tino perched up on a small container with his back to the exit. The Finn sat hunched over, elbows in his lap and head hung low and he flinched visibly at the sound of Berwald's footsteps.
"Tino?"
The gun dealer finally raised his head and Berwald could see how bad the other looked – tired and worse for wear, the pallor of his childish face almost sickly. He blinked slowly and his lips twitched into an attempted smile for which he clearly lacked the energy.
"Baby, it's over now. Everything is going to be alright, they're not looking for you anymore!" the detective assured him, reaching out to wrap his arms around the smaller blond automatically. He held tightly, lips pressing a hurried kiss into Tino's soft hair.
To his relief, Tino didn't resist his embrace, didn't reject his touch. His forehead rested against the Swede's shoulder silently for a few moments, body limp, before he finally returned the embrace, tilting his face up and allowing Berwald to bring their mouths together. And again, it just felt so fucking right that nothing else mattered and all efforts, all the danger, it had been all more than worth it! Tino pressed closer against his body, as if seeking his warmth, dainty fingers cupping the detective's face and he was just so happy-
Suddenly, the door creaked open again behind them and the sight of Lukas Bondevik startled them both. The Norwegian was alone this time and his unexpected appearance obviously puzzled Tino as much as it did Berwald.
"Well, well, what do you know… Alin was right, this is incredible," the creepy blond stated, again smiling in that utterly disturbing fashion. "I honestly thought it was a joke, or some scheme to get your hands on Väinämöinen, but it looks like you've really gone rogue now, Oxenstierna… Is that what this is? Man, this chubby little guy who wears the ugliest fucking clothes in history bent over once when he was dead drunk and that was enough to turn you? Shit, you're seriously lame…"
The detective turned brusquely, shocked, being met with the sight of Bondevik's drawn gun, pointed at them.
"W-What are you doing?! What's your-"
"My problem?" the Norwegian snorted, pulling out a police badge out of his back pocket with his free hand and holding it up demonstratively. "I would say it's your problem actually!"
Berwald flinched painfully, refusing to believe this was happening, while behind him he heard the distinctive click of other guns being drawn, Tino's twin Berettas now aimed at Bondevik in turn. He hadn't even realized that Tino had them on him earlier.
"Do you think you can even move before I shoot you both?" Lukas wondered mockingly. "I'd really put the guns down if I were you…"
"Are you seriously going to try that with me?" the Finn asked calmly, tilting his head in challenge and gaze narrowing ever-so-slightly. His grip on the guns remained perfectly steady. "With the Reaper?"
The police officer scowled, ceasing to savor the moment. Now he was getting pissed off. "Are you somehow implying that this is a stalemate?"
"Tino, there's no need to-" the Swede tried, getting in front of his boyfriend, but he was pushed aside, gently but firmly.
"No. Fire your gun and let's see who dies first," the smaller blond prompted Bondevik, in the same glacial tone. "Come on, you runway motherfucker!"
"So you wanted to get us both, is that it? You played this game because you wanted to get Tino too?" the detective asked, hoping to distract the Norwegian and prevent what could have very well been a disaster. But that made no sense though, because Bondevik had known Tino long before any of this and he could have delivered him (and his Magic Club colleagues too) into to the police's hands long ago, it wasn't as if he lacked evidence against any of them! What the hell had he been waiting for?!
The other snorted again. "Do you really take me for an idiot? Look, I don't care what Arthur says, or Alin, they're both kind of soft to be honest, but I don't want to do this for free, okay? If they don't want any money it's their problem, but I do."
"How much?" the gun dealer asked innocently, but Berwald had a strong feeling it was only for conversation's sake. None of them had any money as far as he knew.
"One hundred thousand dollars," Lukas Bondevik stated. "Get them in one week or I will tell the Chief Inspector what your deal really is, Oxenstierna. What do you say, Santa? Do you want your boyfriend to get fucked with capital F?"
The Finn bit his bottom lip, smiling and shaking his head. "That's what I thought. I can get you the money, sure, but how do I know you won't keep asking for more? Because that's how this shit works, isn't it? So, why shouldn't I just tell your friends what's the deal with you and see how disappointed they'll be?"
"Clearly, you could do that, but I've taken precautions – if anything happens to me, the info will be sent to the police instantly."
Tino sighed dramatically, lowering his guns. "Fuck. Okay, I'll get the money for you until next week…"
The Norwegian grinned broadly. "You do that. I knew we could understand each other." Saying that, he turned on his heels and went back through the door, not even bothering to close it fully in his wake.
"Oh, fuck! Tino, I don't think we-"
"Lukas has been very naughty…" Tino concluded, shaking his head again as he tucked his guns away and pulled out his phone. "Well, Arthur will take care of this, don't worry," he added with a small, innocent smile.
THE END
A/N – So an open ending, ha! Who do you think won in the end? Also, Norway is the most beautiful Hetalian in my humble view, but he can be creepy af.
Reviews and comments are LOVE ;)
