Chapter two ahoy! Sit back and enjoy~
Ivan had taken on The Captain before—countless times, countless occasions.
Their first battle had occurred when Ivan was but a member of Heta-College's teaching council. He was in-line for the position of headmaster, and Alfred had just been a famous college-student face in the school newspaper.
It was around the fifth time Ivan had donned the black, grey and red suit. He kept a red mask over the top of his face, almost in a Phantom-of-the-Opera manner of style, as his means of concealing his identity.
The first time he'd taken on the persona of Doctor Viktor, he'd watched his father do the work with his sister Natalia by his side. They'd broken into the City Hall's informational office and took what they needed for the mayor's assassination.
The second time had been the assassination itself. While Ivan had been more interested in the planning grounds of the project, helping his father set the stage for the murder and delving into the technological mazes of the planning process, his sister had been itching to get her hand on a gun.
The plan was to give the public official a near-silent death. They'd shoot him in the head from a vantage point as he paraded downtown between the buildings. Of course, a hero simply had to be there and ruin the well-prepared murder.
It had been Emerald-Eyes, the cat-like hero who Ivan now knew to be the stuck-up English professor, Arthur Kirkland. After a successful struggle, he'd broken the gun and it seemed their plan was over; however Natalia was dead-set on finishing the job. She'd taken their father's sling-cord then swung down into the middle of the parade, laughing maniacally as she fired her carry-on pistol.
Arthur could do nothing, and so he'd made his escape while Ivan tried to wrap his mind around the fact that his sister had just straight-up publicly murdered someone.
After that first mission, he'd initially branded them a duo: the villainous Russian siblings. He dubbed himself to be the "brains", as they called it, while Natalia was to be his "brawn", the executor. But of course, through growth and experience, they've both learned to balance-out the two aspects within themselves, and eventually, Ivan had taken a liking to spilling political blood.
His fifth job was then to be his first solo-job. It was simple—rob a bank, get the money. All on his own.
He'd already had five dead security guards and a partially cracked safe when The Captain had showed up, dressed in a blaring red and white suit flecked with blue here and there.
"Hey! Where ya Russian-off to, Doctor Viktor?" It had been the most American, most obnoxious thing Ivan had ever heard in his life. The pun had initially caught him unawares, but the fist swinging toward his face successfully snapped him out of it.
At first, he thought he would easily be able to break the young hero's arm off with his super strength, until he found out that the prick had some super strength of his own. Further into the fight, Ivan was a little more than disgruntled to find out that it far surpassed his.
Doctor Viktor had created a crater within a wall upon punching it; The Captain had accidentally kicked his entire body right through another.
Needless to say, the fight didn't end in Ivan's favor. He'd gone home that night with a sore jaw and a thirst for revenge. He was aware that The Captain was as new at his job as he was—clumsy with his strength, a little too heavy on the cocky puns. But he grew, they both did.
Ivan got faster, smarter, stronger. He'd learned to balance out his planning and execution, combined with the careful application of his abilities. The Captain's strength grew as well. He'd eventually gotten rid of his initial clumsiness, gained the ability to constantly mislead Ivan with what his next move would be, and kept his impulsive nature in check, but the puns stayed, of course.
Ivan could read The Captain like no other. He knew how he moved, what cocky pun he'd pull out next, and when he was stalling for time or trying to prevent it. But still, he was almost always one step ahead, always managing to stop Ivan before he could steal or kill what he needed to.
However sometimes, Ivan got the upper hand.
He would never forget the day Ivan had killed his target right in front of the hero assigned to protect her. It was the first murder Alfred failed to prevent.
The woman was a high-ranking business contender of the company Ivan's uncle ran. She'd gotten a sniff of some "illegal" work underground, so of course, as a birthday treat, he took on the job of taking her down. After the bombs he'd planted had gone off, The Captain's arm was pinned down under a wall of concrete, too large even for him to quickly maneuver out of, and Ivan had the woman in his grasp with a knife to her neck. Doctor Viktor looked down at the helpless hero, ecstatic at the look of utter panic, before he smiled, making sure he would see.
"You could have stopped me, Captain! This is your fault."
Blood was drawn, right in front of the helpless man. Ivan's lips would randomly twitch up in a smile for days after that, as he recalled The Captain's broken scream and the tears that slipped through the mask.
The hero had become more guarded after that. With every success, he would smile at Ivan in retaliation of that first failure, and with every defeat, his normally upbeat mood would do a hundred-and-eighty-degree flip into darkness.
When Ivan first registered himself falling in love with Alfred F. Jones, he came to the conclusion that he could never, ever truly bring himself to hurt the man—not counting any explicit times in bed, of course.
Alfred was simply so… alive. He was a bright, bouncing, enthusiastic light that touched every dark corner in Ivan's heart. Whenever he got upset, Ivan felt the overwhelming urge to wipe the frown off his face. Whenever Alfred tried to apologize after an argument, Ivan would never let him think it was his fault. Besides, who remembers who's fault after any argument, anyways?
He simply wanted Alfred to be… Alfred. Ivan knew that he could never corrupt him with the villainous side of himself, and so he made the choice never to tell his boyfriend. He'd keep it a secret from him down to his grave.
So of course, upon finding out that Ivan had indeed hurt, broken, and even mortally wounded his boyfriend-slash-enemy multiple times in the past, he wasn't sure how he could face him ever again.
The pleading blue eyes that cried for the dead business woman were the same ones that smiled at him as he was handed a mug of morning coffee. The hand that he'd crushed under a car was the same one that caressed his cheek in the most loving manner possible. The lips that spat out cocky insults and threats were the same ones that pressed against his own now.
How could Ivan hurt him again?
The super villain's current disposition was one he'd hoped he would never be in.
Natalia's solution to the hero-infested-manor problem would be to simply kill the minister at work. The documents she'd stolen from the Manor's office entailed a diplomatic-relations meeting to be held at the City Council office on November the twenty-first—two days from then.
Since there would be no way to sneak anything into the hall, they would crash through the windows and saunter into the place, guns and grenades in hand, then shoot the minister before covering their tracks with explosions. Crude and rather vague, but even Ivan could see no other way to get around the heroes constantly guarding the Manor.
Assuming the heroes knew nothing of the meeting, based on the secrecy of the documents Natalia had gathered, Viktor and Silver Knife would be free from a messy fight.
Ivan didn't like how utterly spontaneous their actions would be. Granted, they've gone through some form of planning, but the circumstances were still vague. And yet there he was, grenades at his sides, guns in his hand, on the rooftop just outside the windows to the City Hall's meeting office.
Ivan had been worrying back and forth about whether or not the heroes would show up. Of course they won't! They don't know about this meeting! But what if they did? What if they were informed somehow? What if Alfred showed up? How was Ivan going to fight?
No, no. It was alright. Natalia was staking out the surrounding area, making sure there were no heroes present. It was okay.
With a clack of her heels, Silver Knife set herself down by Ivan's side, crouched low with guns in each hand. "No heroes. We're clear."
Ivan nodded. The meeting would have been almost halfway through; it was now or never.
Together, the two grappled ropes to the rooftop, securing the ends along their belts. In complete sync, they ran down the roof, jumped, and swung around in a perfect arc to crash into the wide meeting-hall windows.
After the initial landing shock, Ivan found himself crouched right in front of the elongated meeting table, baffled politicians on either side screaming at the shattered glass. Quickly, his eyes scanned the room for the wrinkly old face of the minister, who he found stumbling around in a panic in the middle of the room.
He pointed his gun and called to his sister, "Over there!"
His target was locked and ready to fire—this would finally be done with!—when something metallic and painful flung the gun off his hand, sending Ivan stumbling back.
"Oh no you don't!" Emerald-Eyes was there, holding the double-doors open at the opposite end of the room. Politicians scrambled to the exit while the cat-like hero made his way to where Natalia stood, at the edge of the table clutching a bleeding hand.
Ivan was ready to charge in and help his sister when a large force knocked him over the meeting table. Without missing a beat, he spun around coming masked face-to-masked face with the red, white and blue splattered hero: The Captain.
He smiled down at Ivan, familiar cocky grin in check. This time around, the grin was all too familiar for the villain's liking.
Absolutely everything about this man whom he'd hated for years now screamed Alfred. It made Ivan's head spin, and it certainly wasn't because of the blow to his back.
Alfred had what looked to be a curved dagger in his hand, ready to attack. "Not this time, Viktor," he sneered and dove forward.
He might have been aiming for Ivan's sleeve, but the Russian dodged. He took advantage of Alfred's momentum and pushed him up and away before getting up himself. Taking a quick look around, Ivan cursed. The politicians were gone, the last of them having scrambled out the door when The Captain took him down. There was no way the minister would be killed now—the operation was over.
Shit.
The Captain quickly got up and dove again, his blade swinging dangerously close. Ivan resisted to urge to grab another gun from his belt in favor of dodging. They were both on the table—Alfred desperately trying to take him down and Ivan barely missing every swing.
He missed a punch to the face but took a kick to the gut, which sent the villain tumbling over swivel-chairs and onto the floor.
Sensing the hero coming down on him, he quickly rolled to the side where Alfred's fist made a crater where his head had just been. Breathing hard, he got up and sent The Captain sprawling back with a kick to the gut. He winced at the hero's pained grunt.
Taking the momentary distraction, Ivan looked across the room to see Emerald-Eyes in close hand-to-hand combat with his sister, who'd pulled out her twin daggers with her guns knocked out of her hands.
"This is your last fight, Viktor!" Alfred yelled from his place by the meeting table. Ivan looked back to see him cocking the pistol he'd dropped earlier, now aimed directly at him. He froze.
Alfred wouldn't shoot him—not fatally anyway. He'd aim for his arms or legs, nothing more. In those quick two seconds of hesitation, Ivan decided he'd do the same and feel guilty later.
He quickly slipped his back-up gun out and fired two shots, both of which the hero quickly dodged.
He rolled as another shot was fired his way and stopped himself from blindly shooting back.
One, two, three, four, five, six…Ivan counted the shots as he dodged. Then—nothing. Clicking. Followed by immediate swearing.
Alfred dropped the gun and glared, seeing Ivan's hand grasped around a still-loaded pistol. The hero seemed ready to dive forward anyway when a pained scream had both their heads whipping around.
Emerald-Eyes' arm was pinned down on the table, one of Natalia's blades sticking out of it. Said woman was across the room, by the double doors, with her straps of grenades thrown at her feet. Before Ivan could react, she fired three shots from another gun aimed straight at Alfred. One found its target.
"You may have stopped us from killing the minister, but there's still a hell of a lot of people in this building, and someone's going to die!" Natalia screamed, taking a grenade in one hand. She sent Ivan a momentary look, run, before pulling the pin, dropping the bomb, and running towards the window.
Ivan's last view of the scene was The Captain clutching his midsection, stumbling towards the black-suited hero who'd just pulled the blade out of his arm, before Natalia shoved him out the glassless window sending them both crashing into the ground two floors below.
Not two seconds from the crash, Ivan was hauled up to his feet again, before being dragged across the courtyard in a speedy daze. Natalia had just barely gotten them across the outer wall when the much anticipated explosion hit, knocking Ivan off his feet and sending shrapnel flying over everywhere.
Even as Natalia was screeching for him to get a move on, Ivan couldn't help but look back at the massive fireball erupting from the collapsing building. Flames and debris were all around it as a steady column of black smoke rose from the broken windows.
Ivan had never felt such a strong sense of fear in his life.
[9:32 p.m.] Alfred: "Hey babe! Got sum issues with Matthew here at home. Imma be home late.. don't wait up, k? Luv u~"
[9:35 p.m.]: "Ok. I'm out with Nat, I won't be home till midnight. Be careful, luv u 2."
[9:41 p.m.]: Alfred: "Ah ok. I might be home a lil earlier tho. gtg luv u."
Ivan glared at his phone screen, rereading the text messages over and over.
The explosion at the City Hall was all over the news; the death toll was estimated to be at least two so far, so Natalia got her wish. Fortunately for them, one of those two was the minister who had, according to eye-witnesses, stumbled and fell during the stampede. Unable to get up and move quickly enough, he'd been crushed by debris from the explosion. His body was found an hour after the fire was put-out, still alive. He'd been silenced at the hospital.
It was now eleven p.m., six hours from the nasty encounter at the City Hall. Ivan had been worrying his arse off over Alfred with only two meek little text messages to account for his well-being. At least he was alive.
Jesus, if he was ever mortally wounded it would be Ivan's fault. He was shot in the side for Pete's sake! And what about Arthur? The man had a blade go through his arm. Ivan made a mental note to allow him a week or two off of work if he ever asked for it.
Finally, after about an hour of sitting in the darkness of his living room hidden in the corner, he heard the lock jingle. With the click, the front door was pushed open and he could spot Alfred's figure stumble in.
The lights remained off, keeping Ivan well-hidden in shadow. The man had plopped himself down on the couch allowing Ivan to get a good view of his pained grimace, aided by the light spilling in from the balcony.
With a start, Ivan realized that Alfred was still in his super suit. His mask was gone, but the spandex body remained. It was burnt and charred in many places, exposing bruised and bloodied skin. There was a remarkably white sash of cloth tied around his midsection, stained with a darkness Ivan could only assume to be blood from his bullet wound.
Slowly, the hero pulled off the sash, then the upper half of his suit, exposing wounds, burns and bruises everywhere. Then, with several painful hisses, pulled off the lower half leaving him in a pair of black boxers. Alfred then stumbled off into the shower, faintly muttering something about useless guns leaving Ivan to resist the urge to punch himself right then and there.
"I'm fine Matthew. Yeah, yeah—it's okay! Jeeze, calm down bro."
Alfred had his phone between his shoulder and cheek, his hands busy with trying to bandage the bullet wound around his midsection. He was plopped down on the sofa with his super suit still in a heap on the floor.
Ivan however, was still hidden around the corner, watching and listening intently. His initial intentions were to leave as soon as Alfred left for the bathroom, then waltz back in pretending that he'd just arrived home, but curiosity overtook him upon hearing his phone ring and now he had to wait until his boyfriend left the living room again.
"What does the news say? Was everyone alive?"
A faint, muffled voice made its way through the speaker, before Alfred sighed and grimaced. "H-how 'bout the minister? We saw him run out of the doors…" Another pause, before the American groaned in defeat and took his head in his hands. With his eyes shining in the dim light, he looked ready to cry, and indeed he was. "God… I'm sorry Matthew… No, don't apologize—it's not your fault. I know, I know…. Hey—I had to help with the rescue somehow, thanks for sending Francis to help."
So that's what had taken him so long; he'd gone back to help evacuate the City Hall, with the help of some Francis, apparently.
"Yeah, yeah… And Arthur…? Ouch. Yeah, okay, I'll talk Ivan into giving him the week off… Me? Dude, I can't let Ivan know I got shot! Ugh, and what am I gonna do about these wounds? Stupid Viktor… Yeah, I'll um… just tell Ivan…"
He paused, glancing hopefully at his phone. Ivan could almost hear his brother's loud groan from the other line.
"Well he just won't have to see me naked for a week then!—What? I can handle it! Oh, shut up, Matt."
Again, Alfred hissed in pain as he finished up bandaging his wound. His arm reached around his waist, flexing a pair of scabbed-over scars running across his bicep. The hero glanced at them for a moment, before turning his attention to a wide gash on his knee.
"Yes, Matthew, I'm fine. I promise. Mmhmm… Yeah, Viktor will have hell to pay the next time I see him."
Alfred chuckled at something Matthew said, before muttering his final goodbyes and hanging up.
Ivan watched him finish patching up the rest of his wounds, punctuated with a lot of winces, before he headed off to the bedroom, scooping up his ruined super suit and medical supplies.
Now, Ivan didn't know what to do. It may have been a messy, albeit successful end to one mission, but the Russian had an itching feeling that it was only the start of something horrible. He knew he had to stop it, end this problem as quickly as possible, but he had no idea how.
He just hoped it didn't involve Alfred finding out the truth about him.
Alright, don't panic, I will be giving this a proper ending! If the suspense is getting to you, then it's practically killing me. XD
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading this thus far! Leave a review and tell me what you think! :D It'll give me more motivation to writeee~~
~Nish