A/N: Ermm... I'm so sorry it took months for this. I hope you people still remember this. I wasn't able to write much since the last time because the awful things that were thrown at me got worse, but now, it's fine. I think. Plus, this story was longer than I thought. It's not gonna reach pass ten chapters though.

And a big thank you to the people who reviewed and gave advice and such. They really, really help me.

This chapter is not edited so please feel free to point out any mistakes that need revision. Thanks.

And oh, this might not be a big deal and such, but the only reason I'm posting tonight is because I'm already ensured a slot to one of the best (if not the best) universities in the country. I'm just so happy and I hope that by updating this I am able to share that happiness.

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters...

Matthew needed to get away. With the help of Detective Bonnefoy, he ends up living with Ivan Braginski who wants nothing to do with his mess, but later accepts the boy's presence. When "he" finds Matthew and threatens to take him away, what would Ivan do to keep his new found joy? AU. RusCan.

There it was again, a piece of creamy white paper with the same cursive script, stuck inside one of the books he was returning to the shelves.

'You're better off without them, Matthew.'

They always had the same feel. Someone was out to get him.

For some reason, whoever was sending them knows exactly what he'll be doing thus, ensuring that nobody but him gets the messages.

It wasn't surprising, really. It was the sixth one he got and probably only the fourth one he'll tell Gilbert and, sadly, Ivan too.

'"You ready to go?" The sudden presence of the voice made the bespectacled boy jump. And Matthew decided the three letters Gilbert and Ivan were aware of were enough. As swiftly as he could, he slipped the sheet back into the book and inserted it in the shelf. "Hey, 'you alright? Did you get another one?"

Gilbert's piercing gaze was daring him to lie. And lie, he did. "No, no, I'm fine. Let's go." The older looked at him straight in the eye and he did his best not to flinch. The detective had always had an extraordinary perception; it was no wonder why he quickly sped to the top of the agency. "If you say so," he said shrugging, his tone, in disbelief.

A voice at the back of Matthew's head whispered he'll regret this. Maybe he would, but what was another one in a sea of thousands?

o0o0o

Ivan sat on the steps of his back porch. The sun was still up but it won't be for long. He gazed over the little budding flowers that his housemate had planted one day. Some of them had started to bloom and it was odd finding colourful bulbs amidst his desolated backyard. The flowers were small and its colours ranged from red, purple, pink, orange, and such. Although the memory of Matthew's asking him permission was vague, Ivan was sure he had mindlessly said yes. He must admit that the Canadian did pretty nice. For a place that reeked of death, the flowers were looking well taken care of.

He held a glass of vodka – just a single glass to calm his nerves – as his minds drifts back to the afternoon he found out about Matthew's obsessive follower.

'You can never hide from me.'

It was a shock of course: for someone as meek as Matthew to have somebody like that. Ivan couldn't even comprehend. The boy was simple and unnoticeable; he might as well be invisible. He dressed plainly and wasn't even like most guys his age. His voice was smooth and gentle, much like a girl's and he just too frail… or at least he looked like it. Sure he was really smart and kind and he made the best pancakes. And his voice wasn't all that bad. In fact, he finds it soothing. He also never seemed to mind his creepy mood swings. Heck, Matthew even took the liberty of taking care of him when he got too drunk.

So, okay, maybe he has his strong points to.

But seriously, a stalker?

The only reason Ivan was suddenly noticing the boy with the weak presence was because he got a taste of his kindness. Did the stalker feel like this too? Did he also feel obligated to take care of the boy? Because that was precisely what Ivan was feeling. After all that, he just couldn't let Matthew on his own. He didn't know plenty about him, just that he needed to hide from that one guy. It doesn't seem like it was the only thing weighing down on his shoulders though or maybe Ivan was just thinking too deeply into it. Well, either way, once in, he couldn't just leave them, now that that Prussian (as he calls himself) albino is starting to trust him a little with Matthew.

He breathed and ran a hand through his hair before taking the last sip of the strong liquid.

'Honestly, I don't know what I'm doing worrying over things that does not involve me. They only asked for a place to stay, da? So why bother?' Then a question regarding Matthew's safety would randomly pop up and Ivan just couldn't let the matter go. He sincerely enjoyed the Canadian's presence. 'He'd been so nice; perhaps it's just appropriate to return the favour.' The smile never falters from his lips. 'Ah~ Matthew, such a problem you are.'

He stood from his position and dusted off his pants.

For a while, he eyed the bottle of vodka that sat on top of his dinner table. It was tempting but he knew better. He grabbed the neck and proceeded to place it in one of the many liquor cabinets in the house.

He checked the pantry and fridge hoping to start an early dinner. 'Matthew would be home soon. I wonder what to make.' What to make turned out not to be the problem. There wasn't anything in stock. Ivan frowned. They'd been so over the incident that they've neglected their supplies. 'It's too late to do shopping now.' He thought for a while before coming to the safest conclusion.

o0o0o

When Matthew entered the house, he saw Ivan browsing through different printouts. The sun had just gone down and he was feeling exhausted. The most recent note was safely hidden in his bag. It felt uneasy walking home with Gilbert that afternoon. He was given odd and sceptical looks throughout the trip. It was as if Gilbert was egging him to tell the truth which he didn't do in the end anyway.

"I'm back."

"How are you, Mattie?" Ivan greeted with his ever-so-present smile. His treatment had become warmer and there was indifference between both male.

"Fine, thank you. What are those?"

"We're out of a lot of things so I decided it's better to have food delivered tonight. I asked a co-worker to send these to me. What do you think?"

Indeed, the stacks of paper were advertisements of several places in town. Matthew immediately separated the pizza houses for he had had enough of those back with Alfred. If it weren't too greasy, the other places offered overpriced dishes. He couldn't tell which was worse.

"Let's just have Chinese." He said. "Is that alright?"

"Of course," Ivan affirmed. He reorganized the papers and carelessly tossed them over the fridge. He picked up the phone and dialled the number.

Matthew went upstairs to change into more comfortable clothes. As he did, he couldn't shake off the feeling of being watched. It's funny, he thought, how he seemed to be one of those girls in slasher movies that his cousin loved to watched (thought deathly afraid of them at the same time). His heart rate was rising and he could feel the temperature in the room drop.

Then, he noticed the slightly ajar window.

'It's nothing. It's nothing.' He chants as he walked to close it.

Downstairs, Ivan's fingers tapped against the wooden table in rhythm. His brows were in a crease and a small frown was etched on his lips. On his other hand was his phone flashing a message from a neighbour: Ivan, the man's there again.

o0o0o

Toris was the Lithuanian born brunette who lived nearest to Ivan. He had lost his mother, father and two siblings in a house fire back in his country and had no known relatives. Ever since, he left Lithuania to start anew. Two years after moving in one of the rooms of house, Ivan bought what was now his own home. Being the kind and polite neighbour he is, Toris had offered a hand when Ivan was moving boxes in. Nonetheless, he was, as civilly as Ivan could, rejected. The first impression of the man was definitely rude. But slowly, this minor contempt was replaced by admiration as he realized what a hard worker Ivan was. Once or twice they had gone out drinking and shared a few things here and there that, by Ivan's standard, made them good friends. It meant much more to Toris when he learned that Ivan didn't like to keep many.

He lived with two other in a little cosy house a few meters away from Ivan. The bungalow with five bedrooms with three which consist of their own bathrooms, a decent living room, kitchen area, and a porch perfect for afternoon tea was more or less three decades old. Its stone walls were painted brick red and the window sills were cob-free. It looked like a town house from the Black Forest – a newly built one, at least.

Toris, after seldom haunting dreams from the tragic accident, would often take a walk around the neighbourhood. He enjoyed the peace he so ever rarely got during the day. But one particular night, as he was nearing Ivan's property, the brunette saw a lone man standing by the other side of the street. He had tipped his head and greeted: "Good evening, Sir." And although it was dark and neither the moonlight nor the street lights were enough to give him a view of his face, Toris swears the man let out a small growl-like rumble to mark his dissatisfaction.

And he knew from experience not to let even the slightest thing go unnoticed.

o0o0o

It was not long before Ivan caught Matthew's letter. Of course, at first he thought that maybe it was a coincidence: the shady man and Matthew's letters. But when his Lithuanian friend notified him for the second time, his suspicions grew.

Every time he tries to catch the man, he fails. Telling Matthew was out of the question. He's been nervous wreck since the first incident what more if he knows? Of course, it would've done good to tell Beilschmidt about this but really, where was his proof. He doubts anyone has seen the man's face because if they had, they would have been hunting him down and he wouldn't have gotten this far.

He sends his thanks to Toris and resumed his position.

Once or twice he'd seen the man's back and that's that. The culprit is always already on the run whenever he steps out the door and he's moving as quickly as he could. It was maddening how useless he was being. It was even more infuriating why he refused to let Gilbert and Francis know about the man: Matthew might not want to run away anymore, but there's no guarantee the older two would let him do what he wants.

The soft pitter-patter of the floor told him of Matthew's presence. Instantly, he put on his smile. "Mattie, why don't we eat out tonight?" Though startled, Matthew had no qualms.

As they went out of the door that evening, Ivan turned his head to the trees and bushes where Toris had said the man was hiding. He smirked and confidently placed an arm around his younger companion's shoulder. "It's getting cold, da?"

'No one will touch him. Nyet. Matthew will be fine here.' He chanted at the back of his mind.

o0o0o

Unusual was an understatement to how Ivan started acting after Matthew came back from his room. First, he was called by a pet name which was only usually used by the people closest to him. Not even Tino or Berwald had reached that point yet. He didn't dislike it. Sure, it was a shock, but he had to be honest: it sort of felt nice. It was as if their relationship was getting better and stronger with each line being crossed. Secondly and the stranger one too was that upon getting out of the house, the Russian man had put his arms around him. Now this was a whole new matter completely.

Ivan probably doesn't know the inner turmoil he was causing the Canadian. Because it felt too nice and comfortable and it had Matthew wishing the car was parked several more blocks away. And it made him hate himself for ever thinking Ivan was the same as him 'cause surely he wasn't. What was he thinking? Surely it wasn't that. After all, there were more serious problems at hand. For example, the letters that never cease to reach him.

There was one thing Matthew was sure of amidst all the tumult, It was that it doesn't matter when he started feeling more for his housemate (landlord) because it has to stop immediately.

Sitting in the crowded Chinese restaurant, the young lad couldn't help but feel nostalgic about his life back in America. He remembers Alfred and his uncanny love for fast food and how he would always drag his older cousin along for a burger or two at the oddest times. It didn't matter whether the place was packed and that they had to wait over an hour for the food; as long as Alfred gets his burgers. It was all worth it.

"Matthew," Ivan called softly as he beckoned for him to pick his order.

"Ah yes, yes, sorry." He looked over the menu and chose the ones he was fond of. "I'll take this and this and just water please. Thank you." He said pointing his finger over the dishes' names which were written in Chinese characters.

Ivan, on the other hand, had no trouble saying their names in Chinese. Whether it was because of the frequency of time he ate there or he really knew how to read them, Matthew did not know. And perhaps, never will.

Though the two male had opted to share their meals as much as they could the previous days, Matthew had never seen Ivan with so many dish. While he had the basic shrimp fried rice, egg rolls, and chicken, Ivan's side of the table had twice as much.

They ate while having an idle chat about nothing in particular. They talked about the old movie they had watched, the breed of dog that would fit them, or places that has the perfect beach. And though they were eating at the same pace, Ivan finished just as soon as Matthew did. When the bill came, Ivan had offered to pay. "After all, I was the one who invited us out." He smiled. And the gesture said everything else.

You can't refuse what I had just said.

Matthew found it a little embarrassing to be paid for by Ivan like a lady, but didn't protest farther after that smile. Somehow he would repay him one way or another.

o0o0o

The place was in the middle of the commercial district and the only available parking space that night was a few blocks away. Matthew was blithely following Ivan as he led the way. The night has gotten deep and only a few establishments remained open aside the pubs and bars. The sudden halt of his companion made him look at the sign in front of them.

Ivan lifted his hands and pointed: "Why don't you and I have a drink?" He turned to look at Matthew and instead of his manipulative grin was a welcoming childish smile. "You don't have classes tomorrow, da?" He added, "My treat."

Matthew didn't mind. He wasn't really a drinker but once in a while was okay. That was only if Ivan stops treating him like he was indeed of constant protection and pampering. After all, it would be troublesome if he misinterprets the Russian. No one but him would end up hurt.

They sat at the back of the room where less people were. They downed their glasses in silence watching people dance to the upbeat music.

"Do you often come here?" Matthew asked trying his hardest to be heard over the noise. Ivan shook his head. "I've been here once and that was five years ago." He took a sip before continuing, "I don't like crowded places." "Me neither."

Thirty more minutes later, Matthew was starting to have double visions. On the other hand, Ivan was just as sober as they had started.

'These are no match for the ones I have at home,' he thinks.

Noticing the droop in the blond man's eyes, Ivan offered to go home. "I'll go get the car, wait for me here." He stood from his chair and was about to leave when Matthew grabbed onto his sleeves. His head was down and his other hand was gripping the side of the table, forcing his self to stand up. "But you—you… drank too." He said trying not to slur.

Ivan smiled and gently took Matthew's hands. If what he did next were out of impulse or whatsoever, he wasn't sure and doesn't care anyway. He bowed a little to meet the other's level and pressed his lips on the back of the blond's hand. "You trust me, da?" The latter looked at him with lazy eyes, perhaps not processing the situation properly, and nodded. "Then I won't let anything happen." He let go of the hand and slightly pat Matthew on the head. "Just wait for me here, 'kay?"

o0o0o

The wheels of his precious car were slashed open. That was all it took to get all the alcohol out of his system. His first thought was that he'd kill whoever did this and the second was a question: who did this? And being the big Russian guy that practically everyone tried not to mess with, he could only think of one person (that is beside Gilbert, because surely that man wasn't afraid of him, if anything, Gilbert disliked him).

This was a warning.

He ran as quickly as he could back to Matthew.

Relief washed over him as Matthew's figure came into view. But instead of being alone in the table like he had expected, two other people were there. One was tall and intimidating and the other who was shorter by much in comparison just oozed warmth and friendliness.

"Oh, hi, you must be Ivan." The shorter man said getting up from the chair.

"Da. And you are…?" Ivan didn't mean to sound rude but circumstances had not allowed him to be less cold towards the strangers.

"Oh, pardon me. I'm Tino and this is Berwald-" the one who was introduced as Berwald nodded in acknowledgement "- we know Matthew from college."

"Man was trying to hit on Matt," Berwald said in an accent that made it difficult for Ivan to understand him completely. But as he sort out what was said, his eyes hardened.

"Yeah, and Matthew was trying to push him away while saying that you were coming ba—" the sound of a gunshot broke off Tino's sentence. Every person in the room panicked. Girls ran as quickly as they could out of scene while the other men ran to scene.

In the male's restroom, a guy was bleeding to his death. A pool of red was forming around him from the wound on his chest. Tino blanched considerably in recognition.

"That's the man we warded off…" Berwald trailed.

Beside them, Ivan was supporting a passed out Matthew.