This fic was inspired by a Tumblr post by december-dragon like a few weeks ago, took me forever to do, but I did it! And fair warning, this is gonna be a kinda long one (and the ending is not, exactly, happy).

I don't own anything, I promise.

Please read and enjoy.

Another one. Another assignment, another person. Ivan was used to it, being a body guard. He got new people all the time. Not because they died, of course, but because he always finished his job with the rich person safe and intact. This one was difficult, Ivan could tell because of the money being offered, but that was fine. He could handle anything, he hadn't encountered anything yet that he wasn't able to handle.

He had clear instructions to go to the mansion dressed in a suit, no weapons. The client would provide the guns he would use. Ivan didn't enjoy the idea, but he could get used to it. One thing he would not negotiate would be the scarf his sister had made him. Both of his sisters were staying in Russia while he lived in America, where apparently the need for Russian bodyguards was very high.

Ivan walked quickly, his dress shoes clicking slightly as he walked along the sidewalk. This new client lived fairly close to New York City, where he apparently did most of his work, whatever that was Ivan would learn soon, in a fairly impressive home. Ivan looked at it in wonder from the gate that closed it off from the rest of the world. He pressed the red button that he knew from experience would get him into the security of the mansion, who would soon be superfluous.

"Name and purpose, please?" a man said over the speaker.

"Ivan Braginski," he sighed. Security always made him irritated. "I'm here for the bodyguard job."

Without even a reply, there was a buzz sound and the gate opened slowly in front of him. Ivan walked calmly down the long drive way, looking in interest at the large house. Maybe the reason the reward was so high was because he was rich from some fluke and didn't know how to properly spend money on his own. Once Ivan walked up to the front door, the door was opened for him by some of the workers and security in dark sunglasses and ear pieces regarded him closely.

"We'll need you to take off the scarf and stand still," one of them stepped forward, holding out his hand, which Ivan regarded carefully.

"Touch my scarf and I will break your hand," Ivan said simply and the man retracted his hand, looking at him even more carefully. Ivan smirked slightly and took off his scarf, folding it carefully and setting it on a nearby table. He nodded to the men, who swiftly pat him down and discovered nothing, quite a shock. Ivan had hidden a single knife on him, just in case, but they would never know that.

"We'll show you to the room you'll be meeting Mr. Jones," one of them nodded as Ivan wrapped the scarf back around his neck just as carefully as he took it off. He followed them through the entry hallway and into what looked like a small sitting room. Everything was very elegant and well put together, all of the colors matched perfectly and the designs flowed to the room. This was by far one of the better decorated homes Ivan had ever seen. Maybe this client was a bit more…eloquent than most people. If he was one to pay attention to detail, he might become obnoxious, something Ivan was not looking forward to.

He was sat down at a small table with little sandwiches and he was asked if he wanted coffee or tea and he refused both. Then they left him alone, saying that Mr. Jones would be there shortly. Ivan took this time to run through whatever information he had in his head to go off of. His client was named Alfred Jones. His job description was a little…dodgy, but it was something akin to working for the police. He worked in the city, but lived fairly far away. If he was anything like most of the clients he'd had, he would generally ignore him, so any personality quirks that could come from him wouldn't matter. At least, Ivan hoped.

He sat, alone, in that room for at least 20 minutes. He was used to big shots being late, they did it often, they didn't care about small people like him. Ivan tapped his finger on the table in front of him and he was actually very tempted to try one of the sandwiches, but he usually tried not to take offered food. He preferred food he could afford and bought himself.

Finally, finally, the door practically burst open on the other end of the room. Ivan stood, it was only the polite thing to do, as he watched the man rush into the room, his eyes wide and startled and it was obvious that he had been running.

"Jesus Christ, okay, thanks, you're still here," Alfred Jones panted as he walked quickly up to him. Ivan hadn't known what to expect, but the sunny blonde in front of him with bright, innocent, blue eyes that conveyed only trust behind incredibly expensive glasses was nothing he had thought about. His suit was also expensive, boasting a very slight, red tint about it. It was crisp, like he just put it on. "Thanks for not totally ditching me, I kept telling them not to schedule so much shit in a row because, damn, do rich people love talking. God, I'm sorry, I just realized I was talking too much, too. Hi," Alfred finally stopped to breath once he held out his hand to Ivan. "I'm Alfred. You?"

"Ivan," he introduced himself, taking the hand carefully. Okay, he wasn't quite expecting this.

"Right, Ivan," Alfred nodded. "You…uh…you took the job, right?"

"Da," Ivan nodded and Alfred finally retracted his hand, fiddling with his cuffs.

"Okay, okay," Alfred almost ran a hand through is hair, but winced once it came in contact with the gelled substance and moved his hand back to his cuff. "Right, then, a few things to run through really quick because, like I said, they don't listen and I've got a thing coming up, like, right now because for some reason they don't think you're important."

"Remember to breathe," Ivan said simply and Alfred blinked at him before laughing.

"I like you," Alfred smiled. "Okay, so, um, first thing's first. My stylist has been getting pissed at me recently because I keep messing up his hard work every day. So I can't get dirty. On top of, you know, not dying and stuff." He laughed slightly, a happy lilt with no hidden agenda. Something new to this line of business. Ivan nodded. "And another thing...all of the others, before you, they've all quit."

"Considering the money you are offering," Ivan smiled, "I was not expecting this to be easy."

"Great, perfect," Alfred smiled. "Got myself a hard ass this time. Anyway, like I said, gotta get going. I've got this job thing in the city, it'll probably take a little bit, are you ready to go?"

"I will need at least one gun," Ivan said.

"Right," Alfred nodded, walking past him to the door Ivan walked in. Ivan followed him closely behind. This was interesting, truly. Ivan had never really met someone that could actually talk to him like he was a human being. Alfred was a…refreshing change, to say the least. "So," he started talking as they walked down the hallway, towards the front entrance, "I kinda work for the police, in a way, okay? I…communicate with gangs and make deals with them and the police. It's not exactly…legal, okay? But I've got this deal going. The police can't exactly make the gangs completely die down, so I'm around to make sure that less people die and get hurt, you know?"

"Okay," Ivan nodded. He didn't quite care about the gray line between legal and not legal. He took jobs with money, regardless of where the money came from. Alfred seemed like one of the most down to Earth people he'd ever met in this line of work. Ivan couldn't help but wonder how he acted around gangs and such.

"They've got specific rules," Alfred continued and looked at one of the guards before motioning to Ivan. The guard gave him his pistol. Ivan took it with a smile. "I'm allowed a driver. He can't come in with me. I'm allowed one guard with one gun. Usually, nothing bad happens, but sometimes they have it out for me. Because I am working for NYPD."

"Do they abide by the same rules?" Ivan asked curiously. He couldn't help being a little informal around Alfred, considering how he acted all the time.

"Most of the time?" Alfred shrugged, walking towards the main door and allowing guards to open it for him. That explained the amount of guards, though. There were gangs everywhere that may or may not want him dead based on the deals they make. "They've got their hidden guys and sometimes they come in knowing they're not gonna make a deal, but I mean I haven't died yet, right?"

"You are going to make me very nervous, very fast," Ivan chuckled slightly, following Alfred to a sleek, black car that was parked in front of the mansion. He weighed the gun in his hand before hiding it in a place that wouldn't make the gang members nervous. Alfred just laughed, flashing him a smile, before climbing gracefully into the car, leaving the door open for Ivan, curiously enough. Ivan climbed in after him, sitting beside Alfred, who sat with perfect posture to make sure the creases in his clothes stayed still. "I take it you cannot wear a seatbelt because of your suit?"

"Correct," Alfred smiled. "Hope you can manage that."

"For now," Ivan nodded. "I will have to make a few changes here and there for your safety. Do you wear a vest?"

"Like, the bullet proof one?" Alfred asked. "Yeah, my stylist hates the way it makes my chest look or something stupid like that, but that's Feliks, so whatever. Yeah, I don't leave the house without it, it makes me antsy."

"I understand," Ivan chuckled.

"I'll get you one, since the rules and shit I had to give you because of my security said you couldn't bring one," Alfred groaned. "I hate rules so much."

"Rules keep you alive," Ivan said, looking out the window. "And well dressed."

"Obviously," Alfred laughed. "You know, you're really different from the rest of them. The other bodyguards, I mean. They're all kinda stuffy and don't really talk back to me."

"I only think it's polite to respond," Ivan nodded. "If it is any consolation, you are far different than most of my other clients. You actually make conversation."

"Yeah, rich people suck," Alfred nodded with a smile, leaning back just slightly. "Don't worry, you're not missing anything with them not talking to you. It's all about champagne and the next line of suits that some designer I don't know is going to come out with."

"Oh, I know," Ivan smirked. "Bodyguards hear a lot more than you think."

"You gotta tell me some of the stories you've got," Alfred laughed. "I bet you have some pretty good ones."

"I did learn from guarding both Francis Bonnefoy and Arthur Kirkland that they are both cheating on their wives with each other," Ivan mused, thinking of people he had guarded that Alfred would know, and Alfred burst out with loud laughter, enough to make the poor driver in the front jump.

"Holy shit, are you serious?" Alfred held onto his stomach, he was laughing so hard. "I totally called that when I had dinner with them a month ago!" Ivan simply smirked, watching as the landscape very quickly morphed into the sky scrapers around them. Ivan didn't mind New York City, he rather enjoyed the people there.

After a short while of idle chatter, they arrived at a rather shabby motel and Alfred didn't so much as blink before he left the car without warning. Ivan sighed and followed after him. The first thing he noticed about his client was the fact that Alfred was no longer smiling. Ivan raised a curious eyebrow at the serious expression decorating his face, somewhat similar to a scowl, and seemed to make him fill his body a little more, make him seem more…muscular and well-built than he did when he was slumping in the back of a seat, laughing his ass off.

Alfred hardly waited for him to catch up before looking at a small piece of paper he pulled from his pocket and went to a simple door. He rapped on the door five times before standing back, allowing his shoulders to slump just slightly but still look intimidating enough to show that he knew what he was doing.

An Italian man opened the door, Ivan knew because he had at least seen glimpses of him before, him and his brother were fairly well-known in the gang scene in New York. The Vargas Twins. This was the older one, who regarded Alfred boredly before glaring at Ivan. He nodded them inside, where Ivan saw their body guard, the man hadn't changed out with anyone in years, which showed a massive amount of dedication. Ludwig, a German, Ivan had never learned his last name, though.

The younger twin was sitting at a desk in the room, typing very quickly on a laptop, a little briefcase beside him, which Ivan noticed was handcuffed to his wrist.

"Hello," the younger twin, Feliciano, hummed and Alfred nodded, shoving is hands into his pockets, standing beside the unused bed and Ivan stood near him. He could tell that Ludwig was hiding his gun in the same location as him and the twins actually had knives, based on the way they were walking.

"So, you got another one, huh?" the older one, Lovino, scoffed, standing beside him. "The last one quit, too?"

"Yeah," Alfred said gruffly. "It was after that dealing with Sadiq went south."

"Shouldn't have asked him to move his entire group further into the city for only a million," Feliciano shrugged, glancing back at them, a small, slightly dangerous smile playing on his lips. "Even I wouldn't do that."

"I asked the police for more money," Alfred shrugged, but that usual, bright smile didn't so much as make a slight appearance. "This is Ivan, started today."

"Think I've heard about you," Feliciano hummed, standing up and grabbing hold of the brief case. Alfred held out his hands as Feliciano placed it on his palms. "As always, you know how much shit I went through to get all of this information."

"And I've got your preferred method of payment all ready for you," Alfred nodded as Lovino stepped forward and unlocked the briefcase. Inside there were various documents and pictures, all of which were very incriminating.

"You're just lucky Heracles and I recently had a falling out," Feliciano smiled brightly, as Alfred examined the information. He nodded and closed the case and Feliciano unlocked himself from the case.

"It's the usual code," Lovino noted.

"Thanks," Alfred said. "Pleasure, as always."

"A little sad I didn't get to see the new guy show off his stuff," Feliciano sighed. "We'll try again next time, okay?"

"Sure thing," Alfred nodded. "Ivan." Alfred nodded towards the door and started walking to the door. Ivan nodded to Ludwig, who nodded back, and followed Alfred to the car outside. Alfred leaned close to him. "When we get in the car, get out your gun, just in case." Ivan nodded. He and Alfred climbed into the car and Alfred stared out a window while Ivan pulled out his gun, following his gaze. "They've cheated me before, so I just wanna make sure as we pull away. I can usually trust these guys, they're the ones that I've been working with the longest."

"Well, this job certainly won't be boring," Ivan noted as the car drove away and Alfred fell back into a slight laugh.

Ivan looked around curiously as they walked into the bar, Alfred with his usual poker face on. Ivan had grown used to it over the past few days. It was only a mask, as far as he could tell. The real Alfred, behind the scenes, was down to Earth, loved to laugh and make jokes, and loved including Ivan and anyone else working for him in on the conversation.

A bullet proof vest rested comfortably against Ivan's chest as he followed Alfred, who plopped down on a stool, motioning for Ivan to do the same. Alfred looked around and, apparently after not finding his client soon enough, cracked a smile.

"You wanna drink?" Alfred asked him. "I'll buy."

"You do not have to," Ivan said with a small wave of his hand, looking around the crowded room. There were far too many ways for someone to try to pull something on Alfred and he would have to be aware.

"Come on, I want to," Alfred leaned towards him. "You're way too stressed out, man."

"That is mostly due to you," Ivan chided him and Alfred pouted. "Fine, if it will make you feel better, I will have one drink."

"Awesome!" Alfred cheered. "What'll ya have?"

Ivan looked up at the bottles of various alcohols decorating the wall behind the busy bartenders. He told Alfred the first vodka that caught his eye. Anything else this bar had didn't have enough alcohol to give him a good enough buzz with one drink.

"Vodka, huh?" Alfred leaned back, looking up at the bottles. "Okay, sure. Guess I didn't expect anything else." He laughed before catching the bartender's attention and ordering two glasses. "So, we're waiting for this guy named Mathias, alright? Blonde, spiked up hair, usually really obnoxious. Usually, his bodyguard's gonna be this big guy, Berwald, blonde with glasses, can't miss him."

Ivan nodded as the shot glasses were given to them and he happily took it in one drink. Alfred seemed apprehensive at first and Ivan glanced at the bartenders, who were whispering at each other, looking at them. Three, fairly short people, one with silvery hair, two with blonde hair. Ivan immediately didn't trust them. Alfred took his shot a little roughly, nearly coughing it up but keeping it down as he laughed slightly.

"Damn," Alfred laughed. "Never done that before."

"You have never had vodka?" Ivan asked curiously.

"Nope," Alfred blinked. "Not bad, gotta say." Ivan curiously watched as the silver-haired one poured two more shot glasses of vodka and placed them in front of them without Alfred noticing. Ivan raised a curious brow. Alfred finally noticed them. "Hey, I mean, I don't mind," Alfred shrugged.

"Then allow me to pick which one I want," Ivan nodded, taking the glass closest to Alfred, just in case. It was a very pointed placement, so Ivan would have to be careful. His own vodka shot was the least likely to be drugged, if anything else, not that it was immensely likely. Alfred hardly seemed to notice, taking his own shot and Ivan followed after him shortly. He was hardly one to be affected by just two shots, if anything it made him even more alert. The three at the bar had taken definite interest in him, looking at them carefully. Ivan made sure he knew exactly where his gun was resting, quickly noting to make sure Alfred was also wearing his vest under his suit, the small bulk making it extremely evident.

"Dude, you're fun to be around," Alfred laughed after coughing down his drink.

"I am glad," Ivan said, "Fredka."

"Fredka?" Alfred raised an eyebrow. "What's that, some kinda nickname?"

"Da," Ivan nodded, fighting back a small blush when he realized he'd done it accidentally. He wasn't supposed to be getting close to his clients.

"Cool," Alfred smirked. Ivan kept a close eye on the men at the bar, who were taking in each of their movements, but no one was making a big show about anything yet. "How about for you? It's kinda hard to come up with a cool nickname for ya."

Ivan had no idea what came over him, but there was no harm in allowing for a nickname… "My sisters call me Vanya."

"Vanya," Alfred echoed. "Heh, that's kinda cute."

"Good," Ivan nodded. "Now, I will need you to brace yourself."

"Huh?" Alfred asked, leaning closer to him. Ivan saw the three make a move towards, no doubt, where their guns were stored, and Ivan wasted no time. He tackled Alfred to the ground from the stool, going with him with enough momentum to roll over him. He was able to go to a kneeling position, practically straddling Alfred's sides, as he pointed his gun towards the three at the bar. The people in the bar made some noise of panic, but nothing serious. They were used to this. "Ow," Alfred whimpered, nursing his slightly injured head, but Ivan had made sure that the fall would not have done anything serious to him.

Ivan kept his gun level to the other three, who now had their guns out.

"Wow, Feli was right about this new one," someone laughed, walking through the small crowd that was leaving the building. Blonde hair, spiked, really cocky air about him. Ivan could only guess.

"What the hell, Mathias?" Alfred snapped, forcefully pulling his façade back on, even with vodka in his system for the first time. Ivan didn't move. Ivan noticed the large, blonde bodyguard behind the man, who was holding a gun steady to Ivan, who kept Alfred out of range.

"Figured a little alcohol could've gotten you to loosen up," Mathias laughed.

"You're hilarious," Alfred dead-panned. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Cancelling our deal," Mathias said simply. "Let's settle this amicably, I don't spill your blood, I give you free drinks, everyone walks away okay. I don't wanna be someone's lapdog anymore. Get enough shit about it from the Vargas Twins already."

"You're not a lapdog," Alfred groaned, obviously growing uncomfortable with their position, but Ivan was obviously stronger. "There's a clear deal. You want more money?"

"You think I could be bought?" Mathias laughed. "I'm not like a bodyguard, kid! Especially not like your new one. I've seen him around a bunch of high profiles before, he's only in it for the money. It's kinda sad, don't you think?" Ivan flinched, just slightly. He hardly kept most of his money, he sent it off to his sisters, he didn't need to pay a lot to live if he kept giving jobs with shelter. So, yes, he was in it for the money, but not for himself.

"Hey," Alfred muttered, sitting up slightly on his elbows. "Fine. You want the deal off? It's off. No blood, okay?"

"Deal," Mathias said, nodding to the three at the bar. "My big guy drops his as soon as yours drops his."

"Ivan," Alfred said clearly. It was an order. But Ivan knew better. He could see the look in Mathias' eyes. He didn't budge. "Ivan."

"Nyet," Ivan said simply and the other three slowly tried to raise their guns, but Mathias waived them off.

"You did get a smart one, I'll give you that," Mathias laughed, walking to the main door, nodding to Berwald as the other three followed him out. Ivan acted as quickly as possible, turning over and keeping his body as low as possible to Alfred's. The gunshot was silenced, but it still rang in Ivan's ears as he felt the bullet slam into him, digging into the bulletproof vest, but not getting far. Ivan pointed his gun behind him and fired once, twice, and Berwald jogged off.

"Holy shit, Ivan!" Alfred gushed, pushing Ivan off of him. Ivan groaned in pain as he sat on the ground, testing out his shoulder, which had been shot. He winced, but he was sure he'd be fine in the morning. "Are you okay?"

"Most of the others never asked that question," Ivan chuckled.

"Well, I'm not them," Alfred muttered, quickly standing up and holding out a hand for Ivan to take. "Let's get out of here, I'll check that out just in case on the car ride back."

"You're not dirty, right?" Ivan muttered, taking the hand with his uninjured arm. The floor hadn't looked incredibly dirty, but he had to make sure that Alfred was perfectly crisp and clean like he was always delivered to him. Ivan had met Feliks, the man did not intimidate him, but he had also seen Feliks when Alfred came home with windswept hair. He…had proven himself to Ivan.

"I'm good, start worrying about yourself for once," Alfred smiled slightly.

"That's not a part of my job," Ivan nodded and Alfred lead him quickly to their car, keeping out a close eye for the others. As soon as they sat down and the car started moving, Ivan gently rubbed his shoulder, wincing in pain.

"This is when most of them quit, you know," Alfred sighed, looking at Ivan expectantly. "They're all good shooting at people right until they get shot at."

"They are wusses," Ivan said simply. "I have dealt with worse, do not worry, I am not that weak."

"Cool," Alfred gave him a lopsided smile. "Now, take off your shirt, I've gotta check that damage."

"Do not trouble yourself, I can do that on my own," Ivan assured him.

"It's your fucking shoulder, dude," Alfred dead-panned. "How are you going to look at it?"

"I will guess, as usual," Ivan smiled and Alfred remained unamused. "Fine," Ivan sighed. "The scarf stays."

"Never seen you without it, never expected to," Alfred shrugged as Ivan carefully peeled off his jacket and shirt, acting very delicate around the scarf. He turned to allow Alfred to assess the damage done to the bulletproof vest. "Okay, well, we're getting you a new one. That was really close to point blank, you're really lucky it didn't actually hit you."

"It hit me," Ivan nodded. "I'm sure you've felt it before."

"Nope," Alfred shook his head, looking at him genuinely interested.

"It feels like being punched by a boulder," Ivan chuckled. "Best description I've heard." He winced as he rolled his shoulder.

"Let's see if there's a bruise, then," Alfred said and Ivan slowly complied. No one except for his sisters had cared for him this much, not even himself. Had this been a normal job, not involving Alfred Jones, he would have gone home, taken some pain pills, and allowed it to heal on it's own. Ivan carefully took off the vest and placed it with the rest of his clothes.

Alfred's hands darted out to ghost across the sensitive skin on his shoulder and Ivan fought back a wince. It hurt quite a bit.

"I'm sorry," Alfred muttered.

"You have nothing to apologize for, I did my job," Ivan shook his head.

"No," Alfred shook his head, tracing a rather large circle that Ivan supposed was his bruise. "It was my fault for not being careful enough."

"I am here so you do not have to be careful," Ivan pressed and winced when Alfred's hands accidentally pressed too hard into the tender skin.

"I wish I could do the same for you," Alfred huffed.

Ivan looked out the window carefully as they approached this new meeting place. It was some time in the middle of the night, apparently the only time these people wanted to talk to Alfred, and they were at what appeared to be an old recreation center. They were to meet these people at the pool, apparently. Ivan immediately didn't trust it, but Alfred had hired him for a reason, after all. Alfred could be relaxed and didn't need to worry about anything as long as Ivan was around.

They left the car and Alfred placed on his usual façade and walked forward with purpose, Ivan as close as possible to him.

"On a scale of one to ten, how bad of an idea is this?" Alfred asked as they walked through the entrance.

"Nine," Ivan answered honestly and Alfred let out a small breath.

"Go ahead and get out your gun," Alfred instructed and Ivan complied. "This is Roderich, if anything else, I can explain." Ivan nodded and they moved forward silently. There were boards and caution tape everywhere, a sign at the front boasting that it was to be torn down shortly. Ivan looked around carefully, looking for anything that would possibly cause harm to Alfred. He caught a glimpse of something upstairs, near where the weight lifting equipment would have been.

"Move faster," Ivan suggested and Alfred did as he was instructed. There was a sign clearly marked for the pool and Ivan knew they would go through a locker room first. Alfred opened the door and it loudly echoed in the empty, silent building. Ivan barely heard footsteps, Alfred didn't hear it, and the door closed. Ivan gripped onto Alfred's arm. "Ten."

"I knew it was sketchy," Alfred muttered. "He was just offering a good deal and I-"

"Be quiet," Ivan shushed him as they walked by a row of tall lockers. They were quiet for a moment before the door opened loudly. Ivan glanced quickly at the locks, noting that they were built-in. When this place was open, they must have supplied the codes when you came in or something similar. Ivan acted quickly, opening a locker that was slightly ajar and forcing Alfred inside. "Stay here," Ivan instructed and noticed Alfred's eyes widen in almost fear.

"What?" he asked, his voice oddly quiet. Ivan shut the door quietly, testing the lock just in case and finding it closed.

Ivan then ran through the locker room, towards the pool, making sure the sound of his footsteps were loud. Another pair of footsteps followed after him. He slammed open the door to the pool and stumbled to a stop before he tumbled into the empty indent in the ground. He pulled his gun on the only person he could see in the room, a man in a crisp suit and black hair with glasses. Someone came out behind him, panting from the run. Ivan heard the click of a gun behind him.

"So the news about you was correct," the man in front of him, who Ivan assumed was Roderich, said calmly. "Where is Alfred."

"I will not tell you," Ivan said.

"He's somewhere in the locker room," the man behind him said. "I saw both of them go in."

Two more people came into the pool from another entrance, both of their guns on him. One was a woman, another a man with slightly longer, blonde hair. "Gilbert, go ahead and look for him," Roderich said calmly and the man behind him started to move. Ivan wasted no time. He swiftly turned around and shot Gilbert in the stomach, he never quite liked killing someone unless he absolutely had to. He hadn't put a silencer on his gun for the purpose of hiding it better, so the shot echoed loudly around them.

Ivan knew he had to act very, very quickly, all considering and ducked just in time to avoid being shot himself. Gilbert tumbled to the ground, holding onto his stomach, which wasn't bleeding. So he had a vest on as well…He was moaning in pain, his gun on the ground. Ivan decided to shoot the woman first, managing to hit her shoulder in a spot where the vest wasn't and she dropped her gun, kneeling to the ground in pain. There wasn't anything to hide behind in the pool so Ivan was forced to jump into the pool to avoid another bullet, sliding down the closest side and going down 10 feet. He poised his gun at the people that he could still see and fired three shots at the last body guard still standing. He didn't know if this man was wearing a vest, he most likely was, but he fell to the ground, at the very least in pain.

"Be sure to tell Alfred that our deal is off," Roderich nodded to him, frowning as he looked to his three guards.

"Leave before I shoot you myself," Ivan warned, resting his gun at Roderich's head.

"Tell him that he can still contact me if he wants to make a new, different deal," Roderich nodded to him. Ivan waited until all three of the guards and Roderich had walked out of the main door. He quickly walked to the short, four-foot-tall side of the pool and climbed out, walking through the main doors. He could hear the stumbling footsteps and watched quietly as the four made their way out of the main door. Ivan still didn't even let his guard down until he walked out of the front door of the building and saw a car that wasn't Alfred's drive away. Well, that was fairly easy.

Ivan walked back to the locker room, where he…oddly enough heard whimpering. He found the closed locker and the whimpering stopped.

"I-Ivan?" Alfred muttered, almost pathetically.

"Everything is fine, they're gone," Ivan said simply, kneeling down to listen carefully to the tumblers of the lock to try to unlock it properly.

"Please don't leave me alone again," Alfred whimpered. Ivan stopped for a moment before he looked up, into the small slits that enabled him to see inside. Alfred's wide, blue eyes were staring at him.

"Do you not like small spaces?" Ivan asked carefully and Alfred shook his head quickly. He was breathing very deeply. "I am sorry, I didn't know."

"I-It's cool," Alfred muttered. "S-Saved my life and shit, you…uh…know…"

"I will add that to the list of rules," Ivan nodded and swiftly went back to trying to unlock it.

"Please hurry," Alfred begged.

"I'm going as fast as I can," Ivan said, hearing one number click into place.

"Vanya, please," Alfred mumbled and Ivan looked up at the slits in the locker but didn't stand up higher.

"I'm right here, Fredka," Ivan said simply. "I will not leave you again." Alfred took very long breaths as he attempted to control himself. Another number clicked. "Almost done."

"For the love of fucking God," Alfred muttered, letting out a shaky breath.

"Do you want me to keep talking?" Ivan asked. "I can, if that will help you."

"I-I'll be okay," Alfred muttered. Finally, the last number clicked and Ivan opened the door. Alfred immediately tumbled forward and pulled Ivan into a very tight hug. Ivan allowed Alfred to let out a few, long breaths.

"I am sorry," Ivan apologized again.

"It's okay, you didn't know," Alfred muttered and pulled back with a shaky smile. "I'll get over it soon, no worries."

"As long as you are sure," Ivan nodded. No other client before had ever trusted Ivan so much, even going so far as to touch him, let alone hug him. He couldn't stop the small smile that appeared on his face. "You finally called me Vanya."

"Yeah," Alfred mumbled, a small blush rising to his face as he straightened out his suit. It had been a few weeks since that time at the bar and Alfred had only really called him Ivan. Ivan hadn't even been able to call him Fredka under normal circumstances. "I…uh, forgot, I guess? I just kind a spilled out back there. Sorry."

"Do not apologize when you do not have to," Ivan supplied and Alfred nodded with a small smile.

"Thanks," Alfred said. "For saving my life again."

"It is my job," Ivan said and Alfred's smile faltered, just slightly. But Ivan pretended not to notice.

It was a fancy place for dinner, Ivan had to admit. It was Italian, but he didn't think it would be anything else, all considering. Alfred sat at a table with Feliciano and Lovino while Ivan sat with Ludwig at a nearby table. Neither of them so much as looked at each other, focusing on their clients and keeping them safe, just in case. These two had always been amicable with Alfred, but Ivan had to be on guard just in case.

Alfred had an envelope in his pocket with money, a way to pay them as a part of their usual agreement. They were just supposed to have a nice dinner and then go their separate ways. Recently, however, Ivan had noticed and more and more gangs were severing their ties with Alfred. It set him on edge more than he could say. And not just as a bodyguard. The idea of seeing Alfred dead, or even just injured, made him feel sick. He'd grown so close to Alfred, he wasn't sure if he could live with himself if he allowed something bad to happen to him. He wasn't guarding Alfred anymore just because it was a job. He was a friend…perhaps even more than that.

Ivan watched carefully. He'd only seen Alfred out of his suit a handful of times. He was more relaxed that way, more willing to act like a normal person. Completely unlike the man he was acting as now. With a straight face and perfect posture. Not a speck of food coming close to his clothing. The more Ivan thought about the man behind the façade, the more he realized that he might just think about Alfred as more than a friend.

Ivan's attention was alerted to Ludwig, who shifted his hand calmly do his lap. It would have been a normal movement, had his gun not been stored in his pants that day. Ivan narrowed his eyes suspiciously. He shifted just slightly to give him easier access to his own gun.

"So, I hope there are no hard feelings," Feliciano's voice was clear as they finished their meal. Ivan had hardly even touched his own. "But I've got this great offer recently that's way better than what you've been offering."

"What, do you want more money?" Alfred asked bluntly and Feliciano smiled sweetly.

"Idiot, don't give even more fucking money to the gangs," Lovino rolled his eyes.

"You may have had that falling out with Sadiq, but I didn't," Feliciano hummed. "And then not to mention the fact that Roderich's still pissed about your little guard shooting Eliza." Alfred blinked before glancing back at Ivan for a short second. Ivan hadn't told him about what had happened at the pool. He shrugged slightly and Alfred continued.

"He was acting on his own then," Alfred sighed. "Really, do you just want a better deal or something?"

"No," Feliciano hummed. "I've got a nice deal on my own."

"And this deal involves…" Alfred raised an eyebrow. Ludwig glanced at Ivan, who sent him a small glare.

"You should've been a little more cautious about meeting us here, rather than the usual motel," Feliciano winked and Ivan stood at the same time as Ludwig. The other bodyguard had his gun pointed at Alfred while Ivan had his gun on Ludwig, watching for just a single move to retaliate. Just as Ivan was beginning to expect, the rest of the restaurant didn't so much as bat an eye.

"Don't…" Alfred sighed, fighting back a hand that wanted to run through his hair. "C'mon, guys, let's just have a little chat, no need to get guns involved, alright?"

"No chance," Lovino scoffed, standing up and nodding to the entrance.

"Try not to move, alright?" Feliciano offered with a smile, standing up and following his brother out of the building.

"Alfred, get down, now," Ivan said quickly and the rest of the restaurant either left or pulled out their own gun. Alfred's eyes widened in surprise, his façade dropping slightly. "Alfred."

"Right on it," Alfred muttered and ducked down quickly. Ivan didn't shoot Ludwig first. There was a man with a machine gun that he could see from far away and shot that man down first. He wasn't wearing a vest. But Ivan found that he didn't mind, only because his aim was on Alfred. Ivan cursed as he felt a few bullets slam into his chest, into the vest he was wearing and he stumbled slightly, ducking behind a rather large pillar. He could see that Alfred had made it to the kitchen safely as more bullets fired around him. Only half of them were paying attention to Ivan, trying to get rid of the "small" obstacle that was in their way.

He needed to get all of their attention.

He turned his attention to Ludwig, who had managed to find Alfred and Ivan fired all of the shots left in his gun. Ludwig stumbled, but he had a vest. A single bullet made it into his thigh. Ivan got a few extra bullets coming his way for all of his troubles. He cursed under his breath.

He ran forward as fast as he could, thankful that most of the others around them were reloading. He was quick to catch up to Ludwig, pinning the man in front of him as he faced his back to the kitchen and forward to the others. When Ludwig started fighting back, Ivan kicked his injured leg harshly.

Okay…what now?

He was broken out of his panning when he heard shooting behind him and saw a few people in front of him fall down. He glanced back and saw Alfred holding a gun. He should have figured Alfred would know at least a little about protecting himself. Ivan reacted quickly, taking Ludwig by surprise by wrenching his gun from his hand, and he shot a few others down as well. There was only a small handful left to take care of now.

"Fredka, please stay back," Ivan sighed, tightening his arm around Ludwig's neck until the man passed out and he laid him down, ducking back over to his pillar. Alfred ducked back to the kitchen. On his way over, Ivan had picked up a gun from someone who had fallen and it had a few bullets left. Ivan took a deep breath to clear his head before moving once again.

This time as he stepped out the others around him acted fast enough to shoot him in his arm, luckily not his dominant arm, and he cringed, but he had to keep moving. He shot a few times, managing to make a few fall, though one of them stayed up, a vest protecting them well enough. Ivan gritted his teeth, noting that he was out of bullets yet again. He ran forward quickly, sliding to the ground in front of a body and yanking their gun into his hand. He was shot twice in the chest and once in his good shoulder. Ivan winced as he shot another one down, but noticed too late that one of the last few still standing had picked up the machine gun. Ivan fired too late.

It seemed to happen all too slow, the pain that washed through him as the bullets finally made it into his chest. The sight as another person's bullets made the last of the men around him fall, finally. Ivan fell back numbly, blinking up at the ceiling, allowing the pain to throb in his chest, his arm, his shoulder…he could have sworn he felt something in his leg, too…

"I-Ivan," Alfred panted, his head swimming into Ivan's vision. Ivan could hear his own breathing clearly ringing through his head. "Holy shit, Ivan, please, stay with me."

"It's nothing big," Ivan muttered, his voice surprisingly hoarse.

"Shit…you're bleeding really badly," Alfred pressed his hands onto Ivan's chest and Ivan looked down. He could clearly see the red dyeing his shirt and blinked at it in interest. Alfred's hands turned red rather quickly and the red swam up his shirt.

"You are…" Ivan winced at an excruciating wave of pain, "getting dirty."

"I don't give a shit right now, Vanya," Alfred shook his head. "Please….just…just stay awake," Alfred muttered. He looked around frantically, maybe trying to find someone to help him.

"I'm okay," Ivan assured him, lied to him. "How are you?"

"Not a scratch, thanks to you," Alfred smiled shakily, pressing a little harder, but Ivan was finding quickly that he couldn't quite feel it.

"G-Good," Ivan forced through his lips.

"Vanya, please," Alfred begged. "You've gotta stay with me, alrigth? Please…You can't…you can't leave me."

"You will find another bodyguard," Ivan offered. His vision blacked out for a second, but he could focus on Alfred just a little longer. "I…I trust you."

"No…no, there's….you can't," Alfred shook his head violently. "Please, no, please. I can't find…someone like you again. Oh, God," Alfred looked down and Ivan followed his gaze. So much red. Another short blackout. He tried to focus on Alfred, he really did. He wanted to, so bad. But he was starting to feel cold. He almost…wanted to black out again. This time for good.

"I'll be okay," Ivan lied, forcing out his voice.

"Please," Alfred muttered, shaking his head, he was trembling, at least Ivan thought he was, but he wasn't quite sure. That may have actually been him. "You can't…die…please. God…You should've quit." Alfred started looking around again and Ivan black out, this time for a little longer, at least it felt like longer. He was almost a little sad that he saw light again. But seeing Alfred's face was worth it.

"You should….go," Ivan muttered. "It…may not…be saf…"

"I'm not leaving you, okay?" Alfred snapped. Ivan blinked. "Okay? You're not gonna die, alright?"

"S-sure," Ivan sighed, fighting back the need to close his eyes. Alfred's hands were so…red…

"You can't die," Alfred shook his head, his eyes shimmering, or was that just Ivan's vision swimming again? It seemed like the only thing he could focus on was Alfred. "You…you can't…Not until I tell you how much I love you."

Ivan blinked, staring up at Alfred, who looked him right in the eye, still pressing hard onto his chest. Even in his murky mind, it kind of made sense…the reason why he liked Alfred so much. The reason he smiled so much around him. The reason he considered this so much more than a job. Ivan loved him.

Ivan mustered up all of his strength he had left, finding it immensely difficult to actually form words and force them through his throat. It felt like it took all of his energy from him, nearly plunging him back into that darkness.

"I-"