Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Life couldn't get any better, no could it? I had work lined up for the next few months; work only I could do. It was delightful, really, to be so indispensable. By chance, I've managed to become the field expert in psychopathic killers. The sole expert, in the whole Northern New England region! Job security sure is sweet.

You may be wondering, how can someone become such an expert on a small percentage of the population whose minds seem so radically different from ours? Well, yours. The only way to understand someone is to be like them. I'm different from most psychopathic killers, I'm proud to say I've been clean for years. When given the choice between being with the law and being put on death row, you could see my train of thought. By the good graces of law enforcement, I was able to reform and rejoin society.

All the people I work with-police, detectives, even the government-they all know about my past. It's why they work with me. They also like to remind me a little too much about what would happen if I step out of line. Oh yes, they love to use Ol' Sparky as a scare tactic to keep me in line.

But being in such high demand isn't always a good thing. It's how I ended up deep in the forests of Maine, hunting down a particularly strange killer who had been described to me as "highly dangerous" and "sporadic". I've dealt with people described like this before, but the urgency of the call and the initial scene made me almost believe he wanted to be caught. So that had me thinking twice.

"Here" happened to be an old abandoned mansion, hidden away amidst trees and greenery. I stood in front of the entryway, admiring the architecture and contemplating what lay inside. From what I heard, this individual was prone to setting up traps to give himself the upper hand. Luckily, I had been much faster arriving than I thought, and now I hoped to catch him mid-preparation. The mansion was a vast area to prep for just one man.

Ready to act, I started walking around to the back of the house, looking for a rear entrance. I was able to locate the back porch, fitted with a rather large, rather broken sliding glass door. Since this would be the perfect place for a trap to have been set up, I was mildly surprised there wasn't. And more than mildly worried. Not setting up traps to give him the advantage meant he believed he already had an advantage, and I'm not quite sure how I liked that. I called in the waiting back-up before cautiously entering the building.

Now inside the house, I proceeded slowly and meticulously; searching for any signs of the man I was looking for. Dust was stirring in the air, covering every surface in a thick layer. A thick layer broken up by fresh footprints. This house was too far out in the country for many squatters to come in; it had to be the man I was looking for. No footprints went up either staircase, so I could stick to the ground floor. Room after room turned up nothing but dust and an uneasy feeling that I was being watched.

I had only a few more rooms to check; where could this man be? Getting to the salon of the house, after carefully searching behind the couches, I noticed a peculiar arrangement on the dusty coffee table.

What the...?

As I stepped closer to the objects on the table, my blood ran cold.

A photo. Of something. Why that? Why now? Only one other person knew about it, it can't be him!

Click.

Oh, of course it was him. The wraith, the avenger. His name unknown, the criminal underground shook whenever he struck. And he was right behind me.

I made a start for the floor-to-ceiling windows leading to the outside, to safety, but stopped abruptly when a shot flew past my ear.

"Now now now, we can't have that, now can we?" I knew that voice, I knew it. Deep and edged with ice, it commanded without effort. And for only the second time in my life, I was afraid.

"Let's turn around, hmm? It'll be much better for you."

Foolishly hoping it would extend my life, I slowly turned around. And there he was.

I never knew his name, but just then I finally got a look at him. Long, that's what stuck. From his long, black overcoat to his long stark blond hair. His tall, lanky frame to his long arms, long legs. Long, long, long. And the long silence. Oh, God.

After an eternity, he gestured to the photo with his outstretched pistol.

"Didn't think you'd see them again, hm? Thought you'd buried them, thought...no one knew? Well, they're back. For you." A flash of a smile, sharp and predatory.

I said nothing, staring at him; his face framed by his hair. His long hair... Another long pause.

"Tell me, do you remember their last words? Their begging? I certainly do. It's always nice when they beg, isn't it?" The ghost of a smirk pinned me to my past as a spider is pinned to a board.

They did beg, they did. I was shaking, my fists clenched; I was furious. Furious that he'd finally caught up to me. In the euphoria of having a new life, I'd grown complacent. I hadn't buried them deep enough.

"Ah!" He sounded pleasantly surprised. "You do, don't you? Your own wife and child. How...tragic."

The last word he dropped like a bomb. They were the only reason I was doing this. As I had listened to the screams of my wife and son fading from memory, I vowed then and there that nothing like that horrible day would ever happen again. So I hoped the backup team was on its way, and stalled.

"You don't understand. If you did, you would walk away." Nothing. Desperately, I tried again. "I'm one of you. I can help you out of this; I know they're hunting you. I—"

"And who is helping them, I wonder? I don't need your assistance with anything, much less with this mess you got me into." He paused, head tilted slightly. "And you know I'm not 'one of you'. I'm the hunter, you're the prey. And that's why I'm here."

I met his gaze, grey and unwavering, straining to find anything to postpone the inevitable, and came up empty.

"You're not going anywhere."

Defeated, I sunk to my knees as the oh so small human part of me was overcome with pent up grief. The monster within just wanted it to end.

"Oh, shall we do this execution-style? This is really up to you."

"Just do what you came to do, I don't care anymore."

He paused, considering my answer. "Very well."

I felt the muzzle of the pistol press against my head.

"You have answered to me, now you shall answer to them. Good night."

And it was over.

Chapter Text

As the man's body slumped to the side, I couldn't help but admire how picturesque it was. His reaction to being reminded of his deed was priceless. But still, how could someone kill their own wife and child? Even I couldn't if I ever needed to. Though it's pretty hypocritical coming from someone who also killed family. Whoops.

I moved away from the body, contemplating my next move. If I had calculated everything right, any backup he would have called would be on its way right now. I could leave to strike again to further grab his attention...or I could stay.

No. I wasn't ready just yet. So deciding to leave, I quickly moved to the rear of the house, where my late friend had made his entrance. Because the tree line grew closest to the back of the house, it strategically made sense to use that as an exit. Stepping through the broken sliding door and onto the porch, I noticed the grass was much too trampled for one person.

Obviously, that meant there was more than one person.

Just as I had come to that conclusion, a fully armed police squadron burst from the foliage with various firearms trained at me. As a defensive reaction, I raised my own gun to meet them, quickly calculating how I could take out as many as possible while retaining as few injuries as I could. They really pulled out the big guns to catch me, didn't they? I was dimly glad they hadn't brought dogs with them. Things had a nasty bite.

From behind me, in the house, I heard "Drop the gun and put your hands in the air! You are under arrest for first-degree murder!"

By the sound following the shout, I estimated about five policemen behind me. By that assessment, I decided, for now, it would be smart to play it safe. At least until I could spot some kind of opening.

So: gun on the ground, hands in the air, I watched as the state police chief strode towards me.

Finally.

He stopped in front of me, looked me up and down, and smirked.

"Well well well, look who we have here. It seems to me you've finally been caught! And a grand chase you've lead over the country."

I stood in silence, thinking how ironic it was; just a few minutes ago I was in a strikingly similar confrontation, but on the other side of the gun. There was also, I remember, considerably fewer guns before.

"Heh, I don't think you can weasel out of this one, what with you being surrounded and everything," he said, gesturing to my hands, still in the air. As he was talking, I couldn't help but feel something was different. Not that it mattered right now.

"Oh, I can't? We'll see about that."

"Really? You just murdered a hardworking man of the law in cold blood. That itself would call for at least a life sentence. But amid everything else you've done..." His expression hardened. "You know what you have coming."

Taking advantage of my effect on people, I smiled. As usual, it worked like a charm. Proven by his small, involuntary, step back.

"And yet you don't know the most basic information about the people you hire. Remember the unsolved case of the murder of his wife and child? Well," I closed my eyes. I had his attention, now to strike. "You let the murderer into your ranks; you gave him the perfect cover to kill and kill again."

Opening my eyes, I saw the reaction I was expecting to see. The look of shock and disbelief was there and gone in an instant, but it had been there. Maybe he was surprised I would spin such a tale to slander the Maine police force's favorite expert. Or maybe he did believe me.

Darkness clouded his face as he lifted a finger. Suddenly, I was on the ground in the most incredible pain. Memories, nightmares from the past flashed by, more pain. Tasers. Of course, they would have tasers. I looked up through involuntary tears to see the chief looking down at me in disgust. He kicked me in the side, bringing a moan and more pain.

"You're despicable. I can't believe you're my flesh and blood." Rolling onto my stomach, I attempted to get up. I returned his insult with another smile, although through the pain it was more of a grimace.

"Same to you, brother dear."

He snarled and kicked me again, making me lose my balance and my smile. "Get him up and in cuffs. All of you standing by, I want your weapons trained on him at all times. Do not let him escape." As he finished ordering his men, he looked back down at me. After giving me one more dirty look, he turned and left.

Now I took a serious moment to assess my situation. Where I was--still in pain, now handcuffed, and without a weapon--there wasn't much I could do. I could finally think about what was so strange about our short-lived confrontation; I was taller than him. I had always thought he was the taller; it had been that way when I had last seen him, but apparently not anymore.

I was quite rudely ripped from my thoughts as I was paraded through a heavily armed crowd to a heavily armored vehicle, shoved unceremoniously in, and driven away.

Chapter Text

The first thing I noticed was that, with my hands cuffed behind my back, I couldn't put my seatbelt on, much less actually get onto the seat and in a more comfortable position. Much awkward and fruitless scrambling led me to that conclusion. They didn't really care much about comfort, did they?

So I resigned to my fate on the floor.

I didn't know if whoever pushed me in intended it, but from my grand position with the floor mats prevented me from seeing much out the window. So, consequently, I couldn't see where I was being taken. Great for them, not so much for me.

The next thing I noticed was even if I was in a position to look out the window, they were tinted to such an extreme the back seat was lit by a lightbulb due to lack of sunlight. So the fact that I was on the floor wasn't strategic, it was to make me uncomfortable. Or just easy for them.

I struggled for a few minutes in an attempt to get into a more comfortable position and largely succeeded. The last thing I noticed was the partition between me and the front of the car. I had a feeling that whatever material it was made out of would be ridiculously difficult to break on my own, so any attempt to get at the driver was out. So again, it would probably be best to wait this out and see if I could get into a better position.

After a few minutes of trying to study the turns made by the driver, we hit what felt like a gravel road. I realized that if I couldn't judge our speed, I couldn't know where we were. And I certainly didn't know any gravel road where I thought we would be. So I gave up.

At one point, several minutes in, the gravel road ended and a smoother ride prevailed. I relaxed a bit and breathed a small sigh of relief. Suddenly the driver made an abrupt stop. The door flew open and I was blinded by the sudden abundance of light. As suddenly as it appeared, it was blocked out by a body.

Ah, my brother.

He looked at me disdainfully down at my position on the floor. I looked back up at him.

"Your people aren't very considerate, are they, David?"

He didn't answer me but instead grabbed me by the arm pulling me bodily from the vehicle.

Apparently, he wasn't very considerate either.

"You don't have any shame, do you?" His voice sounded strange.

I glanced at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

He gestured to the car. "You just sit on the floor like an animal, without a care in the world."

I glared, exasperated, at him. "Why don't you try maneuvering from the floor to the seat without the use of your arms. It's not as easy as you might think."

He ignored me and called someone forward. As they were talking- most likely about me - someone came up from behind me and slipped a blindfold over my eyes. A young woman's voice came from behind.

"The blindfold is just a precaution as you are not allowed to view the facility. Do not attempt to remove it."

"Oh."

As I was dragged around the compound, I was stripped of all my belonging that they deemed dangerous. Essentially, everything. To get my overcoat off, they had to remove the cuffs, but I could feel the muzzle of a weapon pressed into my skull the entire time. They took my shirt off as well, for good measure.

Finally, they had managed to remove everything they saw necessary, leaving me standing in my underwear. I was actually surprised they didn't just go all the way and strip me bare.

I heard a muddled conversation followed may the sound of multiple guns cocking. I stiffened in response. Someone went behind me and removed the cuffs and I understood what the presumably many guns were pointed at and why. What felt like clothes hit me in the chest and I barely caught them before they fell to the floor.

For the next few minutes, I slowly and carefully put on the clothes they so graciously threw at me, taking extra care to not dislodge the blindfold still blocking my sight. Any hope of staying in one piece would be dashed if one of these idiots found the smallest reason to shoot.

Once finished, I slowly raised my hands in the air. Almost immediately they were snatched out of the air and painfully wrenched behind my back. With the cuffs back on, someone grabbed my arm and started dragging me. I tried my best to keep upright, but it was a bit difficult as I had to walk sideways at a precariously fast pace. I'm sure my shoulder bruised over from the number of doors I slammed into.

Eventually, we came to a stop and I heard a door opening. There was a glorious exchange involving me being pushed from one person to another, followed by the door slamming shut. Hands were placed firmly on my shoulders, guiding me to a chair. My hands were uncuffed, my arms placed onto the arms of the chair and clamped down. I could feel my legs being clamped to the legs of the chair. They were really taking every precaution to keep me in place.

Once I had become one with the chair, someone decided it would finally be a good idea to remove the blindfold. The sudden flood of light overloaded my eyes for a brief moment before my vision cleared. And of course, who would be seated across from me? My brother, very good.

David struck a very commanding figure, perhaps to put me on edge. It didn't work very well at all. I smiled at him.

"Well, this certainly isn't how I expected us to finally meet, brother."

He leaned forward. "Don't you ever. Call me that. You are not my brother, you're a mistake."

I looked at him, hurt. "A mistake? Oh, you wound me. How could you say such a thing?"

One moment he was sitting, the next he was inches from my face. Threw me off a little.

"Years. Years we have hounded you. Ever since that night, you have done nothing but kill. How many years? How many people? Only God knows what else you've done." The low, dangerous tone of his voice almost mirrored mine. Threw me off even more. But I refused to answer.

My refusal made him furious. And that wasn't the only thing getting to him, I could tell something was straining him and he was going to take it out on me.

"You don't show any remorse for those people, any feeling whatsoever. Don't. You feel. Anything?" His fist hit the table at each pause.

I steadily met his gaze. Oh, if only he knew. "I'm afraid I can't answer that."

"Monster." He turned to the young officer standing next to him. "I want maximum security for this one. He doesn't see the light of day." The officer nodded and began to move forward.

"Hang on."

Both froze and looked at me. I looked back at David.

"Something's bothering you, isn't it?"

Chapter Text

"Something's bothering you, isn't it?"

I was met with blank stares. Slowly, David motioned the officer to step back. Then he turned back to me.

"Oh really? You're just trying to avoid being in a cell. I know."

"And I know that if you do put me in the lovely cell you have awaiting me, then you will have no hope of finding your daughter." Silence and a wide-eyed stare.

Bingo.

He slammed his fists right in front of me, startling me slightly.

"Where is she?" He demanded.

"Oh, I can't tell you just ye--"

"WHERE IS SHE!?"

Maintaining my composure, I met his glare coolly. He seemed to realize he couldn't strong-arm his way through and sat down heavily in his chair. "Don't you know where she is?"

Pleading. He was pleading to me. The raw emotion slipped through my façade and struck a chord somewhere deep. That merited a sincere response from me.

"Yes, I do."

He looked up quickly at me. "You do?"

"Yes."

"But you won't tell me?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"Conditions, brother."

Again, he slammed his fists into the table and got up. "Goddammit, Hank! You're acting so childish! Is that what she is to you!? A goddamned bargaining chip!? Your own fucking niece!" He was behind me now. "I guarantee you, when we find her there will be nothing left tying you to this earth!"

"Oh well that just gives me even less incentive to tell you, now doesn't it!? You don't even know half the story and already you're making wild, baseless accusations! Trying to strong-arm your way through everything is going to get her ki--"

He grabbed a great fistful of my hair and pulled back hard, cutting me off. My eyes widened at the force in which my head collided with the chair. That, combined with the hair pulling, sent more waves of pain down my spine.

"Get her killed!? Is that what you were going to say!? Frankly, I'm surprised you haven't killed her yet yourself, you psychopathic little freak!"

Of course, being in extreme pain and facing the possibility of having a large chunk of hair ripped from my skull, I couldn't answer. Then he started twisting.

A gasp escaped me as the new wave of agony rippled through my scalp. Now I definitely couldn't answer.

"Colonel." A female voice from a corner of the room. "Colonel, he can't say anything with you abusing him like that. If you want answers, you need to stop hurting him." Finally, a voice of reason.

The pain lessened considerably, but his grip still held.

"What, are you feeling sorry for him?"

"I'd rather you not," I managed to say before he started to twist again.

"Not at all. You are just asking a question and then making it near impossible for him to answer you."

He let go of my hair and pushed my head forward. I heard him take a step back.

"Well?"

I took a deep breath. Oh, be still my beating heart. Once I had calmed down and trusted myself to speak, I began.

Chapter Text

"You know why I'm doing this? Because I can't get her back myself. Contrary to what you believe, I do look after family."

David snorted behind me. "You really expect me to believe you?"

"No. But ever since I heard what had happened, I managed to find where she's being kept. Think of it as an exchange of favors, a fair trial in exchange for her location. I know you'll stand a better chance than me."

He was quiet for a considerable amount of time. Finally, he moved to the young woman and whispered some instructions to her. She nodded and David glared at me as he and the other officer exited the small room.

For a few minutes, she stayed where she was; watching. So I watched her in return; assessing, analyzing. I came to the conclusion that while she was no one to really worry about, she could still cause me considerable trouble.

She then decided to break the silence.

"Tell me, what do you know about a rogue organization located in the heart of Siberia?"

Her voice was disarmingly soft and soothing, especially after David.

"Why would you need to know?"

She paused for a moment and seemed to come to a conclusion. "They are a very enigmatic group. Not much is known about them. Only two things are certain. A single man has escaped alive with the knowledge that could destroy them." She leaned in close, holding my gaze. "And they will stop at nothing to see that man dead."

"Oh what, are you one of them and you're working to weed this man out? What does this mean to you?" Think I'm overly cautious? You're probably right.

She looked confused. "What? No! I'm CIA, this man may be instrumental in preventing them from regrouping and causing untold damage. I'm aware you have multiple sources in the underground who could help."

I thought about it, finally reaching a decision. Not a very hard one. "That would be nice if you were able to do that, they are quite annoying."

"If you can help me find this man, they will become decidedly less annoying. I could even talk to your brother about granting you clemency."

"Well, when you put it that way, then maybe I'll consider it."

Just then the door behind me slammed open.

"Maybe I'll consider it if you let my daughter go."

"Sold."

Silence. Golden.

"Really? Just like that?"

I sighed. "That's what I've been trying to get at. Although with slightly more conditions than I had hoped. It'll have to be good enough."

"Well then," he let out a breath. "What do you need?"

"My phone, first of all. And arms that can move."

He groaned. "Fine, I can get you that." And he left the room again.

The young woman pulled out a small remote and pressed a button. Instantly I could move my arms again. The first thing I did was tend to my aching scalp, making sure nothing was getting ready to fall out and cause lasting damage. Then I realized my legs were still clamped down. Hm, apparently they didn't trust me completely. So I crossed my arms and waited for David to return with my phone.

A few minutes later he came in carrying it in his hand.

"This is a really interesting device. It appears to be a normal model, but it's much heavier. The OS seems different as well."

"That's because it's a custom job." I put my hand out to receive it. "A favor from a while back."

"Hm." He placed it in my hand.

Phone in hand, I was about to get started when I realized something. I looked up at my brother, who was waiting expectantly.

"What?"

"A password is private for a reason."

He looked away, disgusted. Now with prying eyes away, I could unlock my phone. Just a few seconds after he looked away, I could see my brother's gaze creeping back to the screen.

Once I was done, I leaned back.

"You'll get the coordinates momentarily, though I'm wondering what you did to piss off the mob" Locked and asleep, I set my phone down.

"The mob? What does this have to do with the mob!?"

"You didn't know...?

He was distracted then by his own phone buzzing. When he pulled it out, the screen lit up and displayed the coordinates. He studied them for a few seconds before groaning, "Oh no, I think I know what this is about." He turned to me and asked, "How did you find her?"

I shrugged. "Asking the right questions to the right people. Oh yeah, she's under lock and key. And twenty-four-hour surveillance. Who knows how long she'll last." David looked at me in horror. I glanced at him and sighed. "I told you I wouldn't be able to get her on my own."

He looked at me, then at his phone again, before running out the door.

Now I turned to face the woman.

"There. I've completed that part of the bargain, let me go and we'll see about the rest."

She looked me over for a few seconds, obviously deciding whether she could trust me. Ultimately she came to a decision.

"Come on," she said as she released my legs. Sweet freedom. "We're moving to a more comfortable setting." She looked at me meaningfully as I got up. "Need I remind you of the position you are in?"

"Oh, no no. I know. I'll be good."

"Then follow me."

To the officer just outside, she said, "Tell him we'll be in his office if he comes back looking for us." The officer nodded and we continued on our way.

Ah, freedom.

Chapter Text

It was surreal I tell you, very surreal.

After about six minutes of walking and five or six glares from passing officers, we seemed to have made it to our destination. I must say again, it felt weird to be walking through a police station and not having people trying to gun me down. Just walking as if I belong here. Surreal.

We stepped into my brother's office and she motioned me to sit down.

After a few minutes of sitting in complete silence, David came back.

"You really trust him to be running around?" he said to the woman while glaring at me.

"He is an unarmed man amongst dozens of armed officers. He understands that, he'll cooperate," she replied, as I coolly met his glare.

Sighing, he sank into his char, suddenly looking very tired. "Alright, task force has been notified." He paused, seeming to gather his thoughts, before turning to the young woman. "I guess he's in your hands now."

I raised my eyebrow at this last remark, but nonetheless faced the young woman.

"Right." She pulled a folder out of her jacket and started sifting through papers. I sat expectantly, waiting for her to finish, until she was finally ready.

"So," she said, looking at me. "Tell me what you know about this group in Russia."

"You already asked me this."

"Yes, but you didn't answer."

I closed my eyes, thinking for a minute about what to say.

"They have a name, you know."

The young woman looked slightly taken aback, before leaning in closer. "What do you mean?"

I sighed. "I mean they have a name."

"Yes, you said that." She seemed to be annoyed.

"I don't know how I could be any clearer."

She looked down. "Maybe you can tell us the name and elaborate on how you know it."

I looked down at the floor, hands clasped together. Should I? Yes. After all, what choice did I have? As with my niece, I couldn't handle this on my own either.

"They call themselves Osvobozhdenyie, or Liberation in English." When I looked up, the woman was furiously writing in her folder. She paused and looked up.

"How do you spell that?"

I got up and moved to the desk. Kneeling beside her, I took a pen form David's desk and wrote:

Освобождение

On a piece of paper. I glanced up and saw her look of disbelief, a look that followed me back to my seat.

"I said I would help you find the man you have been looking for."

"Are you just going to repeat questions and be pedantic?"

Both the woman and I looked at David in surprise; he had been silent throughout the whole exchange. Seems he still resents me.

"No," I looked at him pointedly, "I was going to say you don't need my help for that." Now to wait for that to sink in.

The woman looked back at me. "What are you trying to say...?"

I returned my gaze to her, spreading my arms. "You've already found him."

They both stared at me in silence before David spoke.

"You?" His voice was barely a whisper.

I just looked back at him, neither confirming nor denying it.

The woman recovered first and started asking questions so quickly I couldn't answer. I held up a hand to stem the flow of inquiries and she stopped, looking slightly embarrassed.

"I can answer your questions," I stated, "but not so fast."

She nodded and began again.

"How long were you there?"

"Five years, I believe."

A slight intake of breath. "What did they do with you?"

"The same thing they did to the other four hundred odd people they had."

"And what was that?"

"Human experimentation."

She looked up at me. "Really?"

"Yes"

"And what, may I ask, were they experimenting for?"

"It may be best if I just show you."

I got up again and moved back to where she sat by the desk. Picking up a piece of paper from her folder I asked, "This isn't terribly important, is it?"

"No, why...?"

"Perfect."

And I ripped the sheet in half.

Instantly I heard a mew of surprise from the young woman and a start of anger from across the desk.

"What the-? What are you doing!?" David exclaimed as he moved to get out of his chair.

I held up a finger to halt his rise. "I'm not finished."

Carefully, I placed the two torn halves of the paper on the desk, making sure both could see. Then, commanding their full attention, I placed my finger on the tear and traced it. I came away feeling drained.

They were left staring at a now intact sheet of paper.

"What...?" The young woman gingerly picked up the piece of paper.

"Cassandra, what does this mean...?"

The young woman - Cassandra - was still mesmerized by the sheet of paper. "I've never seen anything quite like this."

"That's because, as far as I know, I'm the only one who can do it. I think it's a form of telekinesis."

Cassandra finally tore her gaze from the paper and fixed it on me. "Telekinesis? How?"

"I don't know."

Silence followed me once again to my seat. When I was settled down, I began.