Archive of Our Own ^beta

“I’m home,” Sigma calls out into the apartment as he steps inside. “They were out of taro ice cream, so I got oreo instead. I'll make you a milkshake if you want.”

He walks to the kitchen and puts the ice cream in the freezer. By the time he's closing it and hasn't received a response, he calls out again. “Atsushi? Are you home?”

The silence is unusual—Atsushi doesn't normally go out unexpectedly, especially if he's expecting Sigma to be home; they both prefer knowing where the other is at any given time, with their respective issues. He makes his way through the apartment, checking both the bedroom and the bathroom and coming up empty.

It's probably nothing. Maybe he was craving some sweets and went to the store and will be back any minute. Even though Sigma did say he was bringing ice cream home. No reason to worry.

He pulls out his phone and presses on Atsushi’s contact name.

It rings three and half times.

“Took you long enough. We were starting to think you'd never notice.”

What? No. That’s not Atsushi. It’s not even Japanese, and the voice that responds is far too deep and cocky to belong to his boyfriend even if it was. Sigma’s heart seizes, and he asks a question he already knows the answer to. “Who are you? Why do you have Atsushi's phone?”

The call disconnects, and Sigma only has a moment to be upset about it before his phone is ringing with a video call, Baby ✨💕👑 taking up his screen on top of his own fearful expression.

He presses accept, and his frozen heart sinks to his stomach as own visage is replaced with another.

“No,” he says, practically no more than a breath of a sound. “How are you— How did you find me?”

Arnaud grins. “Come on. You did a good job playing keep-away for a long time, but you couldn't hide from us forever. We own you, Albert.”

It’s the first time he’s heard any French since he ran away, and it’s terrible how distressing his mother tongue is to hear now. At least out of his mouth.

Sigma shakes his head, practically on instinct, and the French spills out smoothly like he hasn’t gone years without breathing a word of it. “No. You can't…”

“Oh, sorry, you don't go by that anymore, do you, Sigma? Changed your whole identity to get away from us, and yet here we are. Together again.”

“I won't go back,” he forces out. “I will never go back with you. I'm out, I'm done.”

Arnaud is unbothered. “I thought you might say that. Seems like you forgot whose phone we're using, A.C. We already made sure to get leverage.” He walks a few steps, adjusting the camera until another face takes up the screen, purpling with bruises and gagged with duct tape.

The floor vanishes underneath Sigma's feet, threatening to swallow him whole, as his blood runs cold.

“Atsushi,” he says, voice breaking before he clenches his jaw. “What did you do to him?”

“He’s weak, but he's feisty,” Arnaud says causally. “He put up a fight—we had no choice but to use force, it's hardly our fault.”

“He's not a part of this. He's worthless to you, let him go.”

“Oh, but he isn't, is he?” He fists his fingers into Atsushi's hair and yanks his head up. The mic just barely picks up the pained sound he makes, and it fills Sigma with fear, anger—guilt. “We’ve been watching you for a while now. He's the only person in your life you willingly interact with. You go to work, you run errands, and you have him. We've seen it all, Albert. We’ve seen how you look at him, how you love him. So, if you don't want anything to happen to your precious little boyfriend, you'll come back.”

Atsushi’s eyes dart between Sigma and Arnaud fearfully, before he looks at the camera and frantically shakes his head.

“Don't worry, sweetheart,” Sigma tries to soothe him, flipping back to Japanese. “I'll get you out of there. I promise.”

Whatever Atsushi tries to say is muted by the tape as he shakes his head and yanks at his bindings, his expression pleading.

Arnaud shoves his head back down. “His location will be texted to you. You have till midnight to choose: your lover or your freedom. Choose wisely, Albert—you won’t be able to change your mind once you do.”

The phone goes blank as the call ends, the screen reflecting his own horrified expression.

Sigma’s legs collapse underneath him. He crashes to his hands and knees, fingers curling on the hardwood as he hyperventilates. How? How could this happen? He was so careful. Even Atsushi doesn’t know his real name, all his papers have his new identity, god, he’s not even on the same continent anymore.

He must’ve gotten careless. He’d gotten so comfortable in his safe, normal life with Atsushi, he must’ve relaxed too much. Stopped watching over his shoulder at every moment. For a wonderful, peaceful moment, he let himself believe he could just be Sigma Ivanov: florist, boyfriend, and experienced shower-singer.

But Albert Camus’ sins will haunt him forever.

Atsushi is in danger, and it’s all his fault. He has to save him, he has to fix this, but how? He could—would—exchange his life for Atsushi’s, but he knows damn well that if he shows up that won’t happen. They’ll just keep them both, and Atsushi will become a prisoner right along with him.

That can’t happen. Not to him. Sigma loves him too much to let him go through anything like that, especially when he’s only a year or two out of his own cell.

He takes a deep breath, then another, until he feels more grounded.

He can’t do this on his own. But he knows someone who can.

Standing back up, Sigma has to go to his settings to unblock the contact before he can hover his thumb over the call button.

God, why can’t he press it? It’s like there’s a forcefield over the button, stopping him from getting too close. This is the last person he wants to call, but he has to, he has to, for Atsushi. He’d walk over hot coals for him, so he can certainly make one phone call.

His whole body practically shaking, he presses the button and puts the phone to his ear.

Each ring feels like a punch in the gut.

For Atsushi. For the one person he loves, the one person who showed him kindness when no one else would.

The line clicks through, and the familiar sound of Japanese in a thick Russian accent comes cheerily across the line. “If this is my balloon guy, you’re late, and I’m going to kill you for it. If you’re not my balloon guy, I may kill you anyway just for funsies. I’m in that kind of silly mood.”

Sigma’s breath is caught in his throat, and he has to swallow before he can force a sound out. “Hi, Nikolai,” he says. Then, after a moment, “It’s me.”

There’s a pause before Nikolai responds, and when he does, he sounds like he’s got that smile on his face, the one that always sent a shiver up Sigma’s spine. “Well, well, well,” he purrs. “Has my dear Sigma come to his senses and come crawling back after all this time?”

“Breaking up with you was me coming to my senses,” he snaps, before sighing heavily. “No. Nikolai… They found me.”

Nikolai tuts him condescendingly. “And after I worked so hard to build you a new life. You knew you had to be careful, Sigsy. I should’ve known you wouldn’t be able to handle it on your own.” He lets out an over-exaggerated, dramatic sigh. “Alright, then, come on over and we’ll get you hidden again. Maybe now you’ll have been reminded what happens if you don’t have me around and won’t be stupid enough to leave, hmm?”

Sigma’s skin crawls with every word out of his mouth. “I’m not getting back together with you. I don’t need a new identity, I need your help. They took someone from me, and I don’t know how to save him. If I go and give myself in, they won’t just let him go, I know it. They’ll either keep him too or they’ll outright kill him.”

“Someone? I see. So you’ve found yourself a new man, did you? What’s he like? Dish!”

“I am not gossiping with you right now, I called you for help.”

Nikolai giggles. “Oh, I know, I know. So you called up the boyfriend you so coldly and cruelly dumped and blocked to help rescue your new beau? I didn’t know you could be so callous. I like this new side of you. Mrow.”

He grits his teeth. “Are you going to help me or not?”

“I certainly could.” Sigma pictures him boredly examining his nails, like someone’s life isn’t on the line. “But my services don’t come free, babygirl.”

“Don’t call me that,” he says sharply. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “What do you want?”

He hums thoughtfully, though they both know he knows full well what he’s going to request. “I think a few romps in the hay would cover my fee, don’t you?”

“Absolutely not.”

“C’mon, babygirl. Come back to Daddy, for old time’s sake.”

“No.”

“Aww, have you grown a backbone?” Nikolai coos. “I still remember when I found you, you know. Roaming the streets, freshly escaped and traumatized, desperate for love and protection. So pliant underneath me, so eager to please.”

Sigma doesn’t know how much more of this he can take. He swallows down bile. “I have love, and I don’t need your protection anymore. I won’t have sex with you.”

“Alrighty then!” he chirps. “Good luck on your own, buh-bye!”

“Nikolai, please,” Sigma says quickly, feeling his only chance to save Atsushi slipping through his fingers like grains of sand. His voice turns pleading, desperate. “If you ever cared about me like you claimed to, then please. I can't do this myself. I'll do anything else, anything that won't betray him. If you want ten million yen, I will rob a goddamn bank, so I am begging you. Help me save him.”

After a moment, there’s a contemplative hum across the line. “You did always beg so sweetly for me. Such a good little pet you were. Oh, fine, I suppose I can offer my services. Darn me and my big heart.”

Sigma breathes a sigh of relief, his body untensing. “Thank you.”

“And in return, you’ll leave my number unblocked, and one day I will reach out to you with a favor. And you’ll do it, no questions asked.”

He grits his teeth, trying not to think of what horrible thing this horrible man will force him to do. That bridge can be crossed later. Right now, all that matters is getting Atsushi back. “Deal.”

“Great! Send me your address, and I’ll be there A-S-A-possible.”

The line clicks off, and Sigma slumps down in the nearest chair, feeling a lot like he just sold his soul to the devil.

Well. He would do worse, for Atsushi.

For him, he would become the devil himself if he had to.

Sigma thinks he’s mentally prepared for Nikolai to waltz back into his life, tells himself it’s only temporary, just a one-time thing to save Atsushi. (And whatever and wherever the favor will be.)

Nothing could prepare him to have Nikolai actually in front of him again years after he’d ran off.

His ex wastes no time wrapping him in a hug, pulling them flush together, uncaring that Sigma makes no move to hug him back, muscles tense in his embrace. “Ooh, babygirl, how I missed you!” he coos.

Sigma shoves him off, leveling him a glare that rolls right off him, and he notices that for the first time he’s eye level with him. Nikolai had always taken some sick pleasure in almost towering over him, but now that Sigma’s everyday footwear is heels, they’re finally on even ground. “I’m not your babygirl. I didn’t like it then, and I don’t like it now.”

Nikolai mrows again, curling his fingers like a cat swiping its claws. “Feisty little thing you’ve become. You think you’d be grateful to the one who took you in and built you a new life from scratch, receiving nothing in return.”

…Nothing? Nothing? Sigma grits his teeth, fingers clenching into fists. “I gave you everything,” he hisses. “I had nothing but the rags on my back, and you made me feel like I had to be so grateful, like I couldn’t deny you a single thing. I cared for you, I slept with you, I submitted to you. I let you own me completely because you made me think that’s what love was, and I regret every moment I spent in your sadistic grip.”

It should bother him—it would bother any normal person, and Sigma wants to see Nikolai’s face cloud with hurt or regret or any modicum of negative emotion. It doesn’t. He tilts his head with a humming sound, visibly unbothered.

“Love comes in many forms,” he says thoughtfully before shrugging the whole thing off. “But if we’re not going to catch up on old times, I suppose we should just get on with rescuing your little…” He waves his hand vaguely. “...boy toy.”

Atsushi is so much more than that, but Sigma doesn’t bother to correct him. He pulls out his phone to show him the text with the location, and immediately Nikolai’s pulling out a laptop out of thin air and opening it up on the table. “Step one: see what we’re working with.” His fingers fly across the keyboard with an efficiency that always left Sigma a little bit awed. “Aaand, there he is!”

Sigma blinks at the screen. “What am I looking at?”

“Blueprints, of course! We don’t know exactly where they’ll be keeping your little slut—”

“Nikolai.”

“Well, it’s not like I know his name, silly,” Nikolai huffs. “Anywho, we can take an educated guess and plan our route from there. All these little groups, they all think the same way. Simple-minded creatures, every one of them. If only they could experience true freedom.”

Sigma sighs. Nikolai has never made a lick of sense, and apparently nothing’s changed in four-odd years. “Okay. So what then?”

A grin stretches across Nikolai’s face. “We raid the cache, of course.”

It takes long enough to set everything up that Sigma’s a nervous wreck, worried they’ll be too late. It’s half past eleven, a little later maybe, when the two of them crouch at the entrance to the warehouse, and Sigma is terrified that Arnaud won’t wait till the deadline, won’t give him the time he promised.

If anything else happens to Atsushi…

Sigma doesn’t even know how to finish that sentence. Maybe he’ll go feral, destroy everything. Maybe he’ll self-destruct, fall back into Nikolai’s arms so he doesn’t have to be alone forever. Maybe he’ll just give up, follow Atsushi into the afterlife and pray they can be together again in death.

He doesn’t know. And he desperately hopes he doesn’t have to find out.

“Ready, babygirl?” Nikolai asks, voice practically a purr. Sigma ignores the flirtation and gives a single, determined nod.

“Ready.”

They both pull out the pins of their grenades and roll them into the room, filling the space with thick smoke as multiple people shout in surprise. Loud French fills the room as orders get barked, and Sigma has to forcibly keep his cool hearing Arnaud in person again. He can do this. He has to do this.

Nikolai jumps right into the room, gleefully yelling something in Russian that, from the tone of it, Sigma can only assume is a Scarface quote, as he presses the triggers on his machine guns and lets loose.

“Be careful!” Sigma hisses. “Don’t forget Atsushi is in there too! If you hit him in the crossfire, you’re next!”

“Don’t worry, dear, I know what I’m doing!” Nikolai sings.

Taking a deep breath, Sigma jumps into the fray as well, picking off Frenchmen like Napoleon in heels.

He can’t see much through the smoke, but he can make out just enough to fire his shots into something besides empty air. Everytime he hears a body crash to the ground, he feels nothing. Not the glee Nikolai shows, not a sense of accomplishment—all he thinks is that with each one, he’s that tiny bit closer to saving the one person who never should’ve been brought here in the first place.

“Nikolai!” he shouts, firing a shot just in time to prevent a knife from being embedded in his back.

Nikolai tilts his head at the body before turning a grin on Sigma. “Aww, you do care!” he coos.

“Focus!” Sigma snaps, just as Nikolai fires right next to his head, another member collapsing behind him. Sigma lets out a breath. “You’re gonna get us killed.”

“Relax, shnookums, Daddy won’t let anything bad happen to his babygirl.”

Sigma grits his teeth against the pet names. He can’t let himself get distracted by Nikolai being Nikolai, not with so much on the line.

It takes long enough to get through the mass of people that the smoke is half cleared by the time Sigma is whipping his head around to make sure there’s no one else. “Why did he have to bring so many of them?” he murmurs in frustration. “I didn’t even know he had this many underlings.”

“ALBERT!”

Sigma snaps his head up toward the sound, to the metal walkway above, eyes widening when he sees Atsushi, held tight against Arnaud’s body, a gun pressed into his temple. “Atsushi!” he calls in his lover’s language, heart pounding. “I’m coming! You’re going to be fine, I swear!”

Arnaud lets out an angry snarl, digging the gun in, jostling Atsushi as he squeezes his eyes shut against the assault. “You can’t win this,” he spits, and it doesn’t sound as venomous in a romance language, but it still leaves Sigma tensing. “You may have gotten past my men, but I still have your precious boyfriend. I still have control.”

“You’ve lost, Arnaud,” Sigma says, just loud enough for his voice to travel. “Let him go.”

“No! You will hand yourself back over, or he dies. You don’t get to win this!”

Sigma clenches his jaw, fear and fury warring within him. What should he do? He can’t take the shot from this distance—a couple centimeters off and he’ll hit Atsushi instead. He can’t risk that. But what else can he do? He wracks his brain for something, anything to get Atsushi safely out of this mess.

“You’re running out of time, Albert!”

“It doesn’t have to be like this!” Sigma shouts. “We can all walk away!”

“Three!”

“Stop this!”

“Two!”

“ARNAUD!”

“One!”

Sigma’s heart stops entirely. He can’t do this. He’s going to fail, Atsushi’s going to die—

“Don’t forget about lil ol’ me!” Nikolai sings, practically appearing out of thin air behind Arnaud, pressing the tip of a knife into either side of his neck. He shrieks, “Vive la révolution, cock nugget!” and stabs the knives in to the hilts.

Blood spurts out of the wounds intensely enough that he must have hit arteries or a jugular or something, which is unsurprising—that’s exactly the kind of thing Nikolai would be able to do with little effort.

Arnaud stumbles, gurgling, his grip on Atsushi falling as his weight pushes him forward, and Sigma watches with wide eyes as he tips forward over the railing, bound limbs stopping him from catching himself, and—

It’s like it happens in slow motion, forcing him to watch as Atsushi falls who knows how many meters just as he’d thought he was safe, that he’d succeeded, that he’d saved him.

A harsh breath escapes him, an agonized scream, as he jumps forward, rushing toward the point of impact, hoping, begging, praying—

He tackles Atsushi just before he hits the ground, arms wrapping around him as they slam into the floor and roll a few times before settling. His breath comes in heavy pants as he squeezes him close, heart rate going haywire. Fuck. Holy shit. That was too close. He could have— God, he almost did.

It takes everything in him to not cry, though he’s noticeably shaking. He doesn’t even know how long he stays like that, holding Atsushi close as if to release him is to go against God himself. It feels like an eternity before he finally pulls away to look Atsushi in the eye, only to be hit with a face full of duct tape.

“Sorry,” Sigma gasps, reaching forward to carefully peel it off, not wanting to cause anymore pain. He immediately reaches to undo his bindings. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart, if I thought— If I had known they would find me, that they would come after you, I would have never—”

“Don’t,” Atsushi interrupts, and Sigma’s heart seizes. This is it. Atsushi’s been through too much because of him, there’s too much trauma, he’s too angry about the lying, any of the million reasons that Atsushi could justifiably give for why he’s going to break up with him and walk out of his life forever.

The ropes fall from Atsushi’s arms and he hisses with pain as he pulls them forward, and Sigma moves to sit in front of him, taking an arm between his hands and massaging life back into it.

“Atsushi,” he starts.

“Dont apologize,” Atsushi interrupts softly, and Sigma’s eyes widen in surprise. “I thought… God, I thought you were gonna die, or they’d keep you and I’d lose you forever. I thought this was the end.” His voice breaks at the end like he’s trying not to cry, and Sigma’s heart both breaks and warms at the same time.

“Oh, love,” he breathes, leaning in and giving him a sweet, gentle kiss. “You’ll never lose me. And I will never let this happen to you again, I swear. I’ll protect you, always.”

Atsushi smiles softly, closing his eyes and pressing their foreheads together. “Thank you for saving me,” he murmurs.

“As if there was ever a question.”

Atsushi is the one to lean into the next kiss, and they stay like that for far too long, lips languidly meeting lips, seeking comfort in each other, pouring their love between them. It’s a perfect moment.

For a while.

“Ooh, is it makeout time? Me next, me next!” Nikolai squeals, practically jumping onto Sigma, making his muscles lock up. “Smoochie, smoochie!”

“No,” Sigma says bluntly.

“Awww, babygirl, pleeease! Just a little smooch for Daddy! As a reward for saving your special friend!”

“No.”

Nikolai pouts. “You’ve grown so cruel.”

Sigma shrugs him off and stands, helping Atsushi to his feet as well, before turning toward Nikolai. “We’re done. Thank you for your help, but he’s safe now. You are no longer needed. Goodbye, Nikolai.”

Nikolai presses a hand to his heart with a dramatic whine. “Oof. Right in the left ventricle. Alright, alright, I’ll leave you be. But don’t forget, Sigma dear: I call—”

“I know,” he interrupts sharply. “I will. Now leave.”

Nikolai gives a wide, creepy grin before flouncing away. “Toodle-oo! Don’t forget protection!”

When he’s out of his sight, Sigma lets out a sigh. “Finally,” he murmurs, pushing his fingers though his hair. God, Nikolai's exhausting. Four years was not enough of a break to have to deal with him all evening again.

"Sigma?" Atsushi says softly.

Worth it, though. Nikolai would do it all over again, for him.

He turns around, giving the first smile he's had in him since the moment he heard Arnaud's voice. He takes Atsushi's hand in his own and holds it to his face, closing his eyes at the comforting sensation of having his first—his only—love safe and with him once more. He presses a kiss to his palm before opening his eyes.

"Let's go home."

Atsushi's smile is small, and he nods. "Yeah. Please."

Sigma drops his hand but doesn't let it go, threading their fingers together as he pulls him toward the exit, stepping over bodies, ignoring the way his stomach clenches. He had to do it. They left him no choice.

He refuses to feel guilty.

"Sigma," Atsushi prompts warily, and Sigma hums as if to prompt him. "Who was that?"

Sigma's finger's squeeze Atsushi's instinctively as he tenses. He takes a beat before asking, "Which one?"

"A-all of them. But especially the one who…helped? He seemed very…familiar. With you. Important, maybe?"

Sigma whirls around. "He is nothing to me," he snaps, feeling a wave of guilt when Atsushi startles, eyes wide. Sigma sighs. "I'm sorry. I— I promise, I will explain everything, alright? Just… Let's go home first. Okay? Get you settled under a blanket with some hot chocolate or ice cream, whatever you want."

Atsushi nods, giving him another small smile. "Okay."

Sigma gives him another sweet kiss before pulling him out of the warehouse.

He'll explain everything. If he's lucky, if Atsushi is unreasonably understanding, maybe he won't even leave him after he does.

He looks back at Atsushi for a moment, sees the way he follows him unquestioningly, trusting Sigma to lead him safely home, and he smiles.

Sigma can return the favor and trust in him too.