Hey, all! I'm *so* sorry this chapter took me forever and a day to get out and I'm also *so* sorry it sucks so much...
I started this story when I was away in Russia and it was so much easier for me to write it there; all the inspiration!
Anyway, without further ado... Chapter three.
The first thing Matt noticed was the ferocity of those piercing ruby eyes. They were staring right at him and Matt shrunk back a little behind the gaze, feeling like everything about him was exposed for this stranger to see. An unruly mop of snow white hair rested atop his head, wild and untamed just like the man probably was. Matt also noticed just how pale the man's skin was, especially compared to the dark colour of his shirt. He figured it was from having to stay hidden for so long; if he was a criminal, the only real source of light must have been that from the moon at night. But even then, he was too pale and Matt found himself staring, eyes flickering over his the rest of his form.
This man was unlike anybody Matt had ever seen before. He was a skinny man, but he could see from his arms that he was fairly toned. Matt assumed that under the loose, casual clothing he was wearing, he could see the soft outlines of his muscles. What surprised him the most was how young he looked. His face was youthful but hardened; he had definitely had some interesting life experiences for somebody who appeared to be only a year or two older than Matt, if that. His face was also surprisingly expressive for somebody who lived a life of crime; his expressions gave nothing away as to what the man could be thinking, but the blond was thankful that he seemed to experience emotions just like him.
The man blinked, taking in the sorry sight that was the kid laying before him. That was the first thing the kid wanted to say? Not "Where am I?" or "Why am I here?" or any of those other stock phrases people generally asked when they were taken? He stayed quiet for another minute, waiting to see if the pleas would continue or he would get to the questions.
When it didn't seem like the kid had any more questions to ask, he threw his head back and laughed, the sound filling the room. Matt tilted his head, throwing a quizzical look at him. He had no idea what was so funny; he didn't say anything weird as far as he was concerned.
Oh no, he's crazy… He's going to kill me for sure…
The laughter finally stopped, red orbs focusing on Matt once again. "Oh, that's a good one! You're pretty funny, kid! I kind of like you." If that was supposed to reassure Matt in any way, it did the exact opposite. His words, laced with what he believed to be a German accent, only served to make the sentence that much scarier.
That confirmed it; this man was definitely crazy. Matt tried to back away again, forgetting his back was already up against the wall. This was it for him, he could feel it; he would never see Al or his Papa or Dad ever again, there would be no more hockey or maple syrup with a hint of pancakes…
With the strange man in front of him, there was nowhere to go. Even if he could surprise him with an attack or dash past him, he would have no idea what to do next. With his luck he would run straight into a dead end or into his kidnapper. The man seemed unstable as it was; Matt didn't want to risk potentially angering him by trying to escape. But where would he even go once he got out? He had watched plenty of movies with Al; he was probably in the middle of nowhere, somewhere where nobody would ever find him or hear him scream. Even if he did escape, there would be no hope for him finding his way back.
Matt stared at him, working up the courage to summon his voice again. "W-What?" he squeaked out in the same soft tone as before, wishing that for just five minutes he could have his brother's courage.
He laughed that same strange high-pitched laugh, wiping tears out of his eyes. "O-Oh, you're too much!" He took several deep breaths, trying to get himself to stop laughing and fill his lungs with oxygen. "I haven't laughed that much in a while! I needed that. You're a fun one; I'm glad I took you and not your brother."
Matt's eyes widened. "Al? You wanted Al…?" So he wasn't the real target after all. "What did you want him for?" He didn't even notice how much easier it was to get himself to speak now; the words were flowing out of him.
So I wasn't the target after all. I guess I should've known…
The man took a seat on one of the chairs and shrugged, looking incredibly relaxed. "It didn't matter which one of you I took, really. As far as I'm concerned, you're both the same. Either one of you would be able to get me what I wanted. You just happened to be there."
That was a low blow for Matt. As much as he loved his younger brother, he hated it when people compared and confused them. Alfred may have been Matthew's twin, but they were two completely different people. Their personalities were nothing alike and as far as he was concerned, they looked different enough where people could tell them apart without too much trouble. Their eyes weren't even the same colour! He was his own person; why couldn't anybody see that? He lost track of just how many times people mistook him for Alfred if they even noticed him at all.
"We're not the same!" Matt cried, his voice stronger and louder than it had been since he was taken. Indigo eyes met surprised ruby ones and the man leaned forward in his chair, intrigued by the kid's sudden outburst. "We're different!" There wasn't much that could make Matt raise his voice or even get angry, but he was Matthew Williams and he wanted others to know that too. "I'm Matthew! Not Alfred!"
The red-eyed man raised his hands in mock surrender, a grin plastered on his face. The blond was getting so worked up! He liked watching him like this, liked seeing the fire in those indigo eyes. So, his name was Matthew? It was cute; fitting, even. "Okay, Matthew, okay. I didn't think you had that in you!"
Matt blinked at hearing the accented voice of his kidnapper speak his name, tensing slightly. "Y-You know my name…?"
Now it was his turn to take on the surprised look. "Yeah, you just said it as you were ranting. Remember?"
Matt looked away nervously. "O-Oh yeah…" He forced a soft laugh, wishing he was anywhere else but here right now. He turned his attention to the door, trying to think of the best possible escape plan. This man was setting him on-edge and all he wanted was for his natural powers of invisibility to kick in and let him disappear from this nightmare. He could be forgotten and walk right out without a hassle. When he got out of this, his first priority would be to work on summoning those powers at will.
He decided to look around the room, trying to get a better feel for the strange man in front of him. The room itself was nothing special; the walls were a plain, ordinary colour one could expect to find in any common house. There was nothing ornate about the furniture; it was the most basic set Matt had seen in a long time.
If Papa was here he'd have a heart attack about the overall layout of the room…
His Papa had a love for fashion and had a keen eye for decorating. The home they all shared was decorated by his Papa with suggestions he took here and there from the boys—Alfred wanted nothing more than to have a big picture of the Justice League in the living room so he could see it when they all watched TV and despite the fact it clashed with the rest of the setup, he let it slide because it was for his boy. Everything in the house looked lavish and fancy; he could do a lot with a little.
"I mean, I don't know your brother, but I'm sure you guys are nothing alike."
Matt stared at the man, not even bothering to hide the surprised expression on his face. "You…what?"
He just shrugged. "I have a brother too, so I get it. I'm the older one, but…" He shook his head and Matt could swear he heard a hint of sadness and regret in that normally cheerful voice. It was strange to hear his voice like this after the carefree tone with which he normally spoke and the loud, obnoxious laughing. "So, just…yeah, I get the whole brother thing."
Matt didn't know what to say to that. He understood him…? But nobody did. Nobody really paid him any attention long enough to understand him. This man was supposed to be his captor, but here he was sharing personal information with him. He was more than confused. Conversations with anyone other than Al or his family made Matt incredibly nervous; he decided to just stay quiet and go back to looking for an acceptable means of escape.
"Don't even think about it, kid." Matt looked away from the door again to see him relaxed in his chair, casting a sideways glance at the door. The chair was leaning back on its two legs; he was effortlessly keeping himself balanced. "Where are you gonna go? You can't get past me. Don't make me have to knock you out again. You're fun to talk to and you look a lot nicer when you're awake."
Matt's eyes widened. Was he being that obvious in his plans to escape or was this just something the other was used to? He preferred staying awake, even if this was a terrifying experience that would possibly require several long therapy sessions. Awake, at least, he had the ability to fight back if needed. Whether that would get him anywhere or not was another story. He may have been tall, but the other was definitely stronger.
Defending himself wasn't the only reason he wanted to stay awake. If he knocked him out and then suddenly decided he wanted to move somewhere else, any chance of him getting a lock on his location and reporting back to Al would be lost. If there was only a way to get in contact with him…
Matt thought back to just before he was taken. He was lounging on the couch, checking the time on his mobile as he channel surfed.
…The phone! If his phone was still in his pocket, maybe Al could track him with it. Hopefully Al was busy putting all that movie crime scene knowledge to some use and would think of doing that. Or at least call for help. Hope fluttered in Matt's heart at the thought. He'd be saved soon enough and all would be well. Were there people out there looking for him right now? Was his brother worried sick?
…Did Al even realise he was gone?
Matt would apologise profusely for it when the two were reunited. And if their parents found out… Being the children of both English and French parents meant things could get very colourful at their place. His English father had a short temper and was quick to blow; he could fire off a chain of insults faster than anyone Matt had ever seen before. And his Papa, his French Papa, was incredibly overprotective of them when he wasn't trying to calm the Englishman down. Of Matthew especially.
When he found out that anything happened to his baby, there would be hell to pay and Papa would make sure that they got what was coming.
"Cute plan, kid," he said with a smirk, clearly still amused. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a phone, the small Canadian maple leaf charm swinging as he waved it around. "But that's not going to work."
Matt was shocked. Was this guy a mind reader as well as a criminal? He must have been; that's the only way he could have known to pull the phone out at the exact time he started thinking about it. Which could explain why he was never caught…
"No, I'm not a mind reader. I'm just awesome, that's all! That and I know a few tricks. I think we're going to have a good time."
Matt forced a laugh. "Y-Yeah… You are going to let me go, right…?"
The phone was stuffed back into his pocket, leaving Matt wondering if he was ever going to see it again. As long as he kept it on, it didn't matter. They would find him. Matt was sure of it. "If you behave and do everything I say, you might just get to live to see your family again."
Matt swallowed hard. What choice did he have? He was running out of ideas. Maybe he could appease him in some way. "W-Well what do you want? Money…? My parents can pay if you're looking for a ransom or something…"
"I just need you to follow my instructions and everything will work out just fine, okay?"
"Okay…" Matt focused his gaze on the floor, struggling against the rope that tied his hand. In situations like this he would twiddle his thumbs or hug his favourite polar bear plushie that had more names over the years than Matt could even remember. How he missed it…
"Look, if you promise not to try to run or do anything stupid, I'll untie your hands, okay? Does that sound good?" Matt's head snapped up. All he could bring himself to do was nod dumbly, surprised by the sudden kindness. It took most of Matt's courage not to inch away from the man as he approached, visibly tensing as he moved behind him and out of sight. "Just for now, though, since we're inside. I'm not going to keep being this nice later."
The ropes slid from his wrists, the blond rubbing gingerly at the chafed skin. It felt nice to have the use of his hands again; hopefully it would stay that way for a while. "T-Thanks, uhm…" He rubbed his wrist a little harder, hoping the pain would distract him long enough to get the one question off his mind. "W-What's your name…?"
With a wide grin, he walked over to the table, picking up the small cordless phone. "Kesesesese! You want to know who I am?"
He pulled out Matt's phone again, glancing from his screen to the phone in his hand and back again, punching in numbers. Finally he brought the phone to his ear, pausing for a few seconds, grin still in place. "The name's Gilbert, kid. Gilbert Beilschmidt."
Indigo eyes widened. The Gilbert Beilschmidt was the carefree looking man before him…?
Alfred blinked. What was with all these hard to pronounce names lately? First Braginsky, then Laurinaitis, and now Beilschmidt? "So this Gilbert person is the one who has my brother? You're sure of this?"
Ivan sighed, not even bothering to correct the blond on his earlier attempt—if it could be called that—of the pronunciation of the surname. "Again, I have said I am not sure. I just cannot see anybody else it would be."
"Well you're the police! It's your job to know! You have to track down the bad guys and bring them to justice!"
Ivan rubbed his temples and turned to Toris, the smaller man having no difficulty figuring out what was on Ivan's mind. The kid was getting on Ivan's last nerve faster than anyone he had ever seen before. It was practically a new record. Toris occasionally enjoyed watching Ivan getting mad when the cause of it wasn't him or either of his partners. He was still only slightly annoyed, but was quickly making his way towards irritated. Alfred didn't have to try very hard to get under Ivan's skin. If the Russian started getting any angrier, Toris would step in, but for now, he would silently enjoy the scene in front of him.
"Alfred, we are police officers, da? Not superheroes. We only know what we can find out and right now that is not much. We will be going after the criminals when we have enough of a lead to go off of. A hunch is certainly not enough."
"What? But you guys are always on the case! You can track down the bad guys in no time flat in all the movies I've seen! Or are you just trying to keep your justice-bringing powers secret?" Alfred beamed, a wide grin on his face as he looked at the two officers.
Ivan groaned and Toris had to keep himself from laughing. Was this kid serious? He obviously watched way too many movies and had deluded himself into thinking that everything worked the same way in real life as it did on the big screen. "And when a new lead presents itself, we will follow up on it, you can rest assured. But complaining and getting on my nerves is not going to help either of us at all, so I suggest you tone it down."
"Whoa, dude!" Alfred crossed his arms and pouted, getting in Ivan's face. "First off, I don't complain. Second, you'd be pretty fucked up to not be worrying about your brother being whisked away by some crazy international criminal! And now you've told me you know the guy and haven't done a damn thing about it!"
"Alfred, you have our word that we will do everything we can to find Matthew. So just calm down…" Toris tried, desperately hoping he would be able to prevent the storm that was brewing in the room.
Ivan stared at the boy in silence for a moment before throwing his head back and laughing a laugh that caused Toris to flinch and shrink back. "Прости меня! If you think you can do better, then by all means, feel free to take over the investigation! I am sure I will not have to explain protocol to you and I can expect the case to be closed by the start of business tomorrow, da?"
Toris stepped in-between the two, giving Ivan a stern look before turning to Alfred. "Leave it to us, okay? There are just certain rules that have to be followed and we don't always get results right away… But we've got some evidence and that's as good a starting point as ever."
Ivan took a step back, shaking his head. Alfred fixed his ocean eyes on the ground, sighing loudly. "Fine… I guess that's okay with me for now… But I'm going to be there for whatever happens next." Suddenly a wide grin appeared on his face and he stared right into Toris' emerald eyes. "You guys need me! I can help you."
"Absolutely not."
Alfred glared at Ivan. "Why not? I can help, really! Nobody knows Mattie better than I do and I know lots about catching bad guys!"
Ivan moved so he was mere inches away from the blond, narrowing his eyes. "There is no help you can provide us. You are a child who thinks he will be able to be some kind of hero by saving his brother. You will only get in my way."
"You don't know me, dude. Maybe that's how it is where you're from, but there isn't anything Alfred Jones can't do!"
Ivan just smirked. "Where I am from, annoying children such as yourself would not be so daring to speak to their elders like that."
"What did you say?!" Alfred stood on his toes to try and match Ivan's height, staring into those bright violet orbs. Neither one of them looked away, trying to prove their strength to the other. Alfred didn't blink. Neither did Ivan. Toris could feel the air in the room growing thicker, heavier, and thought it would be a great time for the two of them to start heading back to the precinct.
Before he could get a word out, the phone in the living room rang loudly, playing its annoying tune. Alfred and Ivan blinked, turning their attention to the phone. Toris walked over to the table, slowly reaching out to answer it.
"Wait," Ivan said, stepping away from the dumbstruck blond. Toris froze where he was, looking over as Ivan passed him by. "I am going to handle this."
The phone rang again, Toris nodding and stepping back to stand next to Alfred. They exchanged equally confused glances, Alfred's eyes silently asking just what was happening, to which Toris simply shrugged. Asking him was pointless; he was as much in the dark as Alfred was. If his hunch was correct, he had an idea as to just what was about to happen, but until then, he'd keep his mouth shut.
Ivan finally picked up the phone, answering with a simple "Hello?"
There was a laugh from the other end and Ivan raised an eyebrow, smirking. "I'm looking to speak with someone; maybe you know him? He's large, Russian, kind of an asshole…"
"Is there something I can do for you?" he answered, a hint of playfulness in his voice.
"Oh, hey, Ivan. I'm so glad you answered. Actually, I was just hoping you'd be the one to answer. It's been a while since we've talked, hasn't it?"
Ivan chuckled, leaning slightly against the small table. "Da, it has been quite a while, Gilbert. How about we start with where you have taken the kid and we can all go home early today?"
Alfred's eyes widened. "Did you just say 'Gilbert'?! As in the guy who has my brother?!" Alfred saw red. Without thinking, the blond made a beeline toward the phone, desperate to get his hands on it and find out just where his older brother is and what kind of horrible things he did to him.
Toris pulled him back by the collar before he could get any closer to Ivan, shaking his head. "What are you doing?!" he shouted, trying desperately to get away from the brunet who was surprisingly stronger than he looked.
"Alfred, don't! Let him handle it…"
"Now, now, Ivan," came the mocking voice through the receiver, and Ivan could practically see the grin on his face as he spoke. "I'm the one holding the cards here, after all. Shouldn't you be a little nicer to me?"
Ivan sighed. Arguing with the psychopath would get him nowhere at the moment, especially when he was so in the dark. Best to play along and strike when the odds were more in his favour. "What is it you want, Gilbert?"
"Well since you asked…"
Прости меня: I'm sorry/forgive me.