Why so serious?

Did Matthew hear that right? Did Yekaterina just invite him to go to the bathroom with her? He wanted to go but he was still so shy when it comes to her. "I-I..." He blushed a bit as he went close to the door. He moved his hand towards the door knob but he chickened out and closed the door instead. "You go on ahead, I'll look for more clues and stuff!"

Matthew sighed. He wished that he was brave enough to show Yekaterina how much he loved her but he was too scared. He was afraid that maybe, if he did something, Yekaterina would get scared. And, that would be the least thing that he wanted to do. They could always do this some other time... he hoped.

**

It doesn't make any sense to Arthur. If he could do all of these things, why did he need Francis for? "What did your employer promise you that you're willing to do all of this? Surely, it's not just money..." With his strength and all of his mutants, he could rob every single bank and even get rid of Francis, himself! Why is he going to all this trouble to catch him? It didn't make any sense to Arthur at all.

"I don't want anything from you. The only reason I'm interested in you at all is because I'm being paid to be."

"Well then, why don't you take me to him and get it over with?" Arthur sighed. There was no escape. He would have to go and face Francis anyway, so why not now? The sooner that he sees Francis, the sooner that he would go through a lot of pain and die. And after that, nothing could ever hurt him again.

Though she hadn't really expected anything- Matthew was shy about these kind of things, a gentleman until the very end, even when she wanted him to be anything but- Yekaterina couldn't help the disappointed sigh that escaped her when the door clicked shut without another body entering the room. She was a grown woman, and she had needs, after all. Why wouldn't she want to share that kind of closeness and sensuality with her current partner- the man she loved? The whole 'wait until marriage' thing had never appealed to her. But Matthew... Well, Matthew was Matthew. She sighed again. She loved the man, that was for absolute certain, but some of his habits left her a little bit lonely.

Feeling a little less hopeful than she had minutes earlier, Yekaterina stepped into the shower and began to wash herself. It was a small stall, just like most hotel showers, but at that moment, with only her inside, it felt very, very large and empty. Even the hot water didn't warm her up the way she wanted.

Yekaterina showered quickly, unwilling to spend extra time alone in that bathroom. She dried herself off and wrapped herself in her towel, allowing her hair to drip-dry onto her shoulders, and pushed open the bathroom door. Matthew was still in the room, she knew- she couldn't meet his eyes, moving over to the suitcase where her clothes were located and picking out some clean ones to wear. "The shower is open," she told him bluntly. "Go clean yourself up. We have to go see Alfred."

***

Braginsky chuckled. "Where do you think I'm taking you now? Dinner and a movie?" He snorted and shoved Arthur forward again. "The only reason you weren't given to Mr. Bonnefoy earlier was that he wasn't here when we arrived. He had some other business to take care of somewhere else." What that business was, he didn't know and didn't really care. It didn't have anything to do him or his goals, after all.

But he kept silent about Arthur's first question. Why would he willingly work for Bonnefoy? There was a good reason, and one he wasn't about to share at a time like this.

Matthew sighed. Yekaterina was mad at him, wasn't she? He knew that Yekaterina won't want to be with him if he continued to be like that but he wanted to wait for the right time. He went into the bathroom and took a shower.

After that, he quickly put on some clothes an went out to meet up with Yekaterina. He didn't want to make her more upset than she already was. Matthew looked over at Yekaterina and offered his hand out to her. He really hoped that she wasn't mad at him. But, if she was, it was fine because he deserved it. "Um, right. Shall we go then?"

**

Arthur blushed in embarrassment. "Th-that's not what I meant, you bloody fool!" Who does he think he is? Arthur wanted to strangle him but he stopped himself. He knew that he could never win against this man. He let out a frustrated sigh and moved faster. Arthur didn't want Braginsky pushing him around.

Arthur realized that Braginsky didn't answer his first question but decided not to ask again because he no longer wants to talk to Braginsky about anything.

When Matthew offered her his hand, Yekaterina stared at it for a moment. If she took it, that would mean forgiveness, and a willingness on her part to overlook this and move forward. But she had done that before- so many times before- and nothing had ever come of that, so this time, she just shook her head and left his hand untouched. It may have been selfish, and perhaps even a little bit cruel, and she knew that they would need to work together to deal with her brother and whatever he had gotten himself into, but Yekaterina had never claimed to be perfect.

"Let's go," she said as she stood up on her own, tucking her laptop into its satchel and looping that around her shoulder. She forced her gaze away from Matthew's face- she was upset with him, yes, yet the way his sweet face would crumple with disappointment and sadness would always tug at her heart. She couldn't have that right then, not while she was trying to keep herself from giving in again.

They made their way quickly down to where her car was parked, and settled themselves into the front seats. Yekaterina never once met Matthew's gaze or replied with more than short, clipped sentences during the drive to the hospital. Once there, she parked with a lot more care than she'd shown during their last trip, and slammed her door shut as she stepped outside.

***

Arthur was getting annoying. Braginsky wanted nothing more than to fix up that tongue and those vocal chords, to make Arthur into another voiceless creation whose fear and anger wouldn't grate on his eardrums whenever he spoke to them. But he couldn't risk experimenting on the man, at least not before Bonnefoy had gotten what he wanted. Coming all this way, risking this much, and then throwing it away before Braginsky had received his prize... That would have been utterly foolish.

Finally, after several hallways and two flights of steps, they came across the right door. It looked almost exactly like all of the other ones they had passed- metallic, rounded, thick, and heavy- but as this was the doorway to Bonnefoy's own chambers, the man's like of the gaudier side of things was blatantly apparent. A golden nameplate marked the center of his door, surrounded by what appeared to be tiny, faint paintings of some kind of abstract designs. It suited Bonnefoy perfectly. Braginsky, on the other hand, thought it looked ridiculous and was a waste of time and effort.

He knocked harshly upon the door, just once, just enough to announce their presence to whoever was inside. After a moment, the door swung open, and Braginsky shoved Arthur inside.

Matthew felt his heart break when Yekaterina refused to grab his hand. He knew that this would happen but he never actually thought that Yekaterina would do something like this. He smiled sadly, maybe Yekaterina was trying to tell him something? Maybe, he just wasn't good enough for her? Maybe she was trying to test him and he failed?

He tried to talk to her but she still seemed to be pretty upset. He wanted to fix things with her but it seems that she does not want to anymore. Maybe, he really did screw up this time. Matthew sighed, if she doesn't want him anymore, then he would set her free.

He kept quiet the whole time and he accepted the harsh treatment that he was getting from Yekaterina. He opened the door to the room where Alfred was staying and waited for her to go inside, keeping a straight face. He didn't want look weak in front of her now. He followed her inside and immediately went close to Alfred. "Hey, How are you feeling?"

**

Arthur wondered how much longer 'til they get there. He wasn't exactly what you would call 'physically fit'. Now, he wished that he took those gym classes seriously. It didn't help that Braginsky was right behind him, pushing him harshly.

Finally, for what seemed like hours and hours of walking, they finally found Bonnefoy's chambers. Arthur fell to the ground as he was shoved inside by Braginsky. He quickly got up and glared at Braginsky but flinched as he heard a familiar voice call out to him. He turned around and saw that it was none other than his old acquaintance, Francis Bonnefoy.

The moment that Matthew and Yekaterina stepped through the doorway, Alfred knew that something had happened between them. Their tense posture, the forced lack of contact, their seeming inability to meet each other's eyes... But despite a brief flicker of sorrow for his brother's sake, Alfred couldn't seem to bring himself to care about their interpersonal problems. It all paled beside the danger Arthur was probably in- the danger that Alfred had been too stupid and weak to save him from.

"I'm fine," he said in response to Matt's question, shifting slightly on the bed and refusing to wince as his cuts pulled and stretched. "I don't even need these stitches. I should be out there, doing something about all this, not cooped up in a bed like this."

After another moment of awkward silence, Alfred let out an annoyed grunt and demanded, "So what did you find? Where's Arthur? What are they doing to him? What's going on?"

***

"Bonjour, Arthur," Francis greeted with a faint smile, swirling his wine around in its glass- a vintage red, very old and very good, perfect for occasions such as this one. He didn't move from where he was reclining back in his chair, merely continued to watch Arthur as he took in everything around him. The man didn't seem too bruised. Good.

"I take it you have some questions for me. I certainly would, if I were stolen away from my friends and family and brought out to some mysterious place like this, with only the smallest of hints as to why." He took a sip of the wine, though his gaze didn't waver in its intensity. "Go on now, ask away. I'll see if I can answer any of them to your satisfaction."

He enjoyed hearing himself talk. It was something others tended to frown upon, but he couldn't resist the sound of his own voice, particularly when that voice was being used to torment his enemies and gain him exactly what he wanted.

Matthew didn't know what to do. He doesn't really know anything about what's happening. "I have no idea, really. All we know is that Braginsky took Arthur to an island somewhere near Angel City. But, don't worry about that now. You should rest, you're injuries haven't even started to heal yet." Arthur was probably dead now, anyway. All they had to worry about now was to catch Braginsky and keep him locked up forever so that these things would never happen again.

"If you want to know more, you should ask her. She knows much more than I do." Matthew pointed to Yekaterina, avoiding eye-contact. He knew that Yekaterina was doing the same.

**

Arthur wanted to strangle Bonnefoy. If only he was stronger, he'd break his face so hard that even his mom won't recognize him once he's done with him.Arthur knew that Bonnefoy hated it when he was ignored so he decided to keep quiet. He already knew what the man wanted from him and just as he said the last time, he would never give it to him no matter how much they tortured him. Even if they killed him.

He gave Bonnefoy the iciest glare that he could muster. He swore, if he ever got out of here, he wouldn't stop until that bloody frog isn't locked up behind bars.

Matthew sounded... disheartened. Alfred's heart sank in his chest, though he tried his hardest to keep from any assumptions. Instead, he turned to Yekaterina and regarded her hopefully. "So, do you know anything about this?" Please, he added mentally, please say you do, please say you know how to solve all of this and how to save my Arthur.

But Yekaterina just shook her head, her lips downturned and her gaze sympathetic. "I'm sorry, Alfred. I wasn't able to find much more information. All I know is something about a maze below the factory, and an old fort out in the islands, and data about the fishing industry." She closed her eyes and shook her head. "I don't want to sound as though this is the end, but I don't know if we'll be able to find out all of the answers in time to... save Arthur."

"We will!" Alfred sat bolt upright in his bed, ignoring the pain that shot up his side. His eyes were wild, his teeth bared, and he knew he looked the very definition of insanity, but at that moment he couldn't have cared less. "We're going to find it. We're going to find it soon. I am not going to let Arthur die!"

The words hung in the air, an ultimatum that all three of them knew he absolutely believed in, the one thing keeping him from falling down and giving up. They couldn't take that away from him. They just couldn't.

***

After a long few minutes of pure silence, Francis' lips twitched. "The silent treatment, Arthur?" he sneered as he set his wineglass down on the table in front of him with a bit more force than necessary. One of his many uniformed servants and guards quickly wiped up the drops of red that splattered against the wood. "I would have expected it from a sullen teenager, not a grown man like yourself. And especially not when I was going out of my way to be kind to you."

He wasn't expecting an answer to that, so he continued onwards, not allowing a pause for Arthur to speak. "If you won't respond to my kindness, then, I'll have to try another approach." He snapped his fingers, and the guard who had just cleaned up his wine stepped forward again. "Please, help loosen Mr. Kirkland's tongue. I'm afraid it may have gotten stuck in his mouth."

The guard moved towards Arthur, broad and imposing, his eyes unreadable behind his thick sunglasses. Just before he reached where Arthur was standing, though, Francis spoke again. "One more chance, Arthur. How about we have a nice, civilized conversation like the two businessmen we are? Or do I really need to resort to brutish violence to get you to talk?"

Matthew couldn't take it anymore. He had to stop Alfred from doing this to himself. "Alfred! Stop thinking so much about Arthur, will you?!" He raised his voice, hoping to get Alfred's attention. "You're hurt very badly because of him yet you still worry about him! We're not even sure if he's still alive or not!" Matthew knew that Alfred has strong feelings for Arthur ever since the first time he had met him as Coyote Soldier. But, to risk his own life for someone like Arthur?

"Alfred, as your brother, I'm telling you that you should forget all about Arthur! What did you ever like about him anyway? I'm sure that there are still others out there that are much better for you! Don't go out there to kill yourself just for him!" Matthew knew that Alfred would probably be upset but right now, he didn't care. He wanted Alfred to realize how stupid he was being.

"Alfred, you need to trust me on this! Just focus on getting better... We'll go save Arthur right after your wounds heal..." If he's still alive "Alright?" Matthew reached out to pat Alfred on the shoulder, hoping that his brother would understand.

**

Arthur was terrified. He knew that he said that he was prepared to suffer a lot-and even die- rather than to give Francis those documents that he wanted. But, right now that this huge man was standing in front of him, Arthur was starting to have second thoughts...

Arthur shook his head. He promised himself that he would never give in, no matter what Francis does to him, and that's what he was going to do. Arthur remained quiet and just glared right back at Francis. There was nothing else that he could do. He held his breath as he waited for the worst thing that could happen.

The hospital room was silent. Yekaterina stood by the door, her hands over her mouth, staring wide-eyed at Matthew. She almost couldn't slide her gaze across to Alfred, fearful of what she might see. But she did. What she saw was exactly as she had imagined.

Alfred looked furious, cheeks flushed, eyes narrowed, brows lowered, head tilted downwards slightly so that he glowered up at his brother. Though he was the one with stitches, bandaged and laying in a hospital bed, of the three of them in the room right then, he was by far the most dangerous. Yekaterina hesitantly reached out towards Matthew's arm. "He didn't mean that," she whispered to Alfred. "He said it without thinking."

But Alfred didn't even glance at her, too preoccupied with staring down Matthew. "Stop thinking about him?" he asked, voice soft and low, and it was even worse than if he'd screamed the words. "Forget about him? Let him die?" He chuckled humorlessly. "I could never forgive myself if I did that. This is my fault for not protecting him in the first place."

A moment of quiet passed, and then Alfred moved again. Eyes burning, he glared at Matthew and shoved his hand away. "If you're not going to help me save him, you can leave. You might be my brother, but I'm already at the hospital. I don't need another nurse." He spat the last word. "I don't care what you think. I'm getting out of here as soon as I can, and I'm going to go save Arthur. I won't let him die." He finally glanced back at Yekaterina, and met her gaze. She nodded in acceptance.

***

Letting out a put-upon sigh, Francis shook his head and waved his guard forward again. "I guess you leave me no choice then. Armand, do whatever it takes to make him talk."

The guard cracked his knuckles and reached out, grabbing Arthur by the collar of his shirt and lifting him so that only his toes could touch the ground. The other heavily muscled arm drew back, fingers curled into a thick fist, aiming right for Arthur's face. He waited only a moment, barely enough time for a syllable to escape from Arthur's mouth if he had decided to speak, before that fist swung forward.

"Alfred! Stop being stupid! You know that you're not going to be able to get out of the hospital anytime soon! Can't you see that this Arthur is ruining your life?!" Matthew frowned. Why can't Alfred see that his life is more important than Arthur's?!

"Nobody said that you had to protect him! Didn't you just meet him? Why is he so important to you now?! He's not that special!" Matthew was furious. Why was Alfred being so hard-headed? Why couldn't he see that he was only thinking about his well-being?

"Fine, then! Do what you want! But don't say I didn't warn you!" Matthew walked out of the hospital room. He couldn't believe that his brother was this stupid! But, what did he care? Nobody needed him anyway. Maybe it was better if he just disappeared.

**

Arthur flew a few feet away as he was punched by Armand. It hurt. It hurt a lot. He felt like he was hit by a bunch of bricks. Arthur's head started to hurt a lot and he felt like he was about to pass out from too much pain but his pride wouldn't let him. He was going to get through this. He slowly stood back up and glared back at Francis.

"I love him!" Alfred yelled out after Matthew's retreating back. "I fucking love him!" And if that wasn't a good enough reason to want to protect someone, to want to save someone's life, he didn't know what was.

The lack of a third person in the hospital room made the small space seem suddenly so much larger and emptier. Alfred glared at the empty doorway for a minute, before turning towards Yekaterina. "So? Are you going to follow him or what?" Though he refused to admit it, he sincerely hoped she was going to stay. He wasn't sure he could do all of this on his own.

"No," she replied softly, shaking her head. "I'm not going to follow him. I know what you're going through, and I know that we both need to see this thing through until the very end. But Alfred, please, at least try to listen to Matthew. Don't throw your life away for Arthur. I might not know him well, but he would never have wanted that, I'm sure of it."

A heavy sigh escaped Alfred's lips, and he allowed his head to slump forward in abrupt weariness. "I know. I don't want to die, and I know he wouldn't want me to die, but... I can't just let him suffer out there all alone. Not when I can still save him."

Yekaterina smiled gently, moving forward until she was close enough to squeeze his shoulder, understanding clear in her gaze. "Not when we can still save him, you mean."

"Yeah." Alfred chuckled. "Yeah, we."

***

Armand's fist swung again and again and again, snapping through the air to connect sharply with Arthur's body. The pain must have been unbearable- Armand was no weakling, that was certain. But it seemed that Arthur still had that damnable obstinate streak that he'd shown back when he and Francis had known each other. Not even this level of physical torment could break him... Not yet, at least.

Once the beating had gone on long enough, Francis rolled his eyes and demanded, "Stop, Armand. We'll have to finish this later." The guard obediently let Arthur's body fall to the floor. Francis turned to stare at Braginsky, who hadn't moved from his spot in the doorway. "Take him back to his room. I don't think we need to bother with the shackles this time. I doubt he'll be able to move much."

But Braginsky just stood there, frowning. "I'm not your dog. I did as you asked and brought him here, and I want my payment."

"And you'll have it, once it gets here," Francis snapped. "What do I look like, some kind of human vending machine? I don't carry around those kind of chemicals in my pockets." He waved a condescending hand at Braginsky. "Now take him back to his room."

Arthur knew that Francis won't kill him yet. His body hurt so much. He couldn't move anymore so he let Braginsky pulled him harshly to his room. Arthur didn't really expect much but he never really expected to be treated like this. He thought that they might actually consider treating him nicely so that he'd give them what they want... not that he would, of course. It seemed that Francis knew him too well.

Braginsky threw Arthur inside the room and angrily slammed the door shut. Arthur fell to the ground and curled up on the floor. Arthur was sure that Francis would have a lot more guards just like Armand, so escaping would be futile.

Arthur smiled sadly to himself. Did anyone even notice that he was gone? Well, he'd been gone for a while now and he wonders if anyone tried to at least ask the police to go and fine him. Arthur sighed, he didn't need to know because he already knew.

Arthur closed his eyes and tried to go to sleep. That way, he wouldn't be able to feel pain even if it was just for a short time.

The days passed by far too slowly for Alfred's tastes. Only three sunrises had lightened the morning sky, and only three sunsets had darkened the evening, but to him, it felt as though months and months were slipping through his fingers. Every second that he spent in that hospital bed left him restless and snappish, prone to lashing out at the poor nursing staff who were only trying to help him. He knew in the back of his mind that it wasn't their fault, but he couldn't stay there. He had so much to do, so much resting on his shoulders, and he was wasting time lying there on the hard mattress. Besides, he'd been getting stronger and stronger with every passing day, even if his stitches weren't due to come out for another week or two.

On the eve of that third day, just as the sun was beginning to disappear over the horizon, Alfred, with the somewhat reluctant help of Yekaterina, forcefully checked himself out. The doctors and nurses were not all that saddened to see him go. He doubted if he'd ever want to have be checked back in there- he'd made something of a bad name for himself over the course of his stay.

Neither of them had seen Matthew since his walkout three days earlier. When Yekaterina returned to their hotel room, it had been to see only her bags there, with no trace of Matthew to be seen. However, it seemed that the bill for the room had already been paid, along with several more days in advance... Still, the bed seemed cold and empty.

As they walked through the hospital's front doors, bundled up against the chilly air, Alfred cast a quick glance around them. He didn't see anything suspicious. It was half a relief, and half a disappointment- if someone out of the ordinary was lurking about, it might have been a perfect lead to wherever Arthur was being held. But nothing.

Nothing.

***

For Braginsky, the days hadn't gone by any faster. He'd spent them waiting around on Francis' metal island, checking in constantly on the details and location of his payment. His part of this job was done, and he had no interest in entangling himself further in it. All he wanted was the reward he had been promised for completing his task.

But it seemed that Francis was in no hurry to pay him off, and kept fielding his questions with "It's coming" or "It's on its way" or "Stop asking, I will give it to you as soon as it gets here". And then, of course, there was always something for Braginsky to do. Most of it involved Arthur Kirkland- escorting him places, holding him back, making sure he was chained. For the past two days, it had been to make sure that no food made its way into Arthur's cell. Pain wasn't getting them anywhere, so Francis had obviously decided to try another form of torture.

Swinging open the door to Arthur's room, Braginsky cast a pitiless eye down at the captive man. "Are you hungry yet? Do you want to talk?"

Only a few days have passed but it felt like he'd been tortured for years. His body was all bruised up and he thinks that some of his bones were already broken.

But, for the past few days, Francis had not ordered Armand to beat him up but instead they didn't let him eat. Normally, Arthur didn't mind much because he was used to not eating. But, right now, he really wanted to go out and eat. Then, he remembered the first time that Alfred had invited him out to eat. He wished that he could be able to do that again with him but it would be impossible. Even if he did get out of here, Arthur was sure that Alfred would be disgusted by him. And he would go and tell him that Arthur was right. That he was ugly and that he only felt sorry for him that's why he said that he'd try to work things out with him.

Arthur snapped out of his thoughts as he heard Braginsky call him. He looked up and glared at him. He refused to talk to anyone in this place, no matter how badly they torture him.

The trip back to Alfred's apartment was a quick one. He gathered what he needed- his uniform, his weapons, the prototype of his hoverboard, any other small gadget or tool that he thought he might need- and made his way back down to the car where Yekaterina was waiting for him. To his annoyance, she was treating him incredibly gently, probably due to the stitches still holding his wounds closed. But he didn't need the babying- he wasn't dying.

"So we have almost no leads, except for Braginsky taking him to some island," he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest as he watched the city scenery pass by the car window. It all looked so bland and dull. He wanted Arthur there beside him, Arthur who would laugh and blush and splutter, Arthur who he could pull into his arms and kiss over and over and tell him that he loved him.

Yet Arthur wasn't there, and he wouldn't ever be there again unless Alfred could go and save him from the danger he was in. His hands clenched into fists where they rested on his legs.

***

No speech. Braginsky had come to expect that from Arthur. He hadn't heard the man's voice for days, not since he'd gone and met with Francis that first time. In some ways, it was a welcome respite from Francis' incessant prattling- Braginky was certainly getting tired of that. But in others, it was nothing more than an annoyance. He had a feeling that his payment conveniently wouldn't come until Arthur revealed his secrets, and Braginsky had worked hard for that. He wasn't about to give it up because Arthur felt like being a stubborn mule.

"Get up," he snapped down at Arthur's weary, bruised form. "It's dinner time, and Francis wants to talk to you again." Or try to talk, at the very least.

Arthur didn't know if Braginsky was blind or if he was just that cold-hearted. But who was he to complain? He was just a prisoner and nothing more. He tried to stand up on his own but he found that he couldn't. He used the wall to help himself stand up. There was nothing else that he could do. Maybe, if he followed them, they'd at least treat him better. But, that was just wishful thinking.

Arthur sighed and walked over towards Braginsky. He still refused to talk. He wasn't even sure that he could, anymore. His whole body hurts. Moving hurts, Walking hurts... Even breathing hurts. He wished that he didn't have to move anymore. He wished that he could just lie down and sleep, and never wake up again. That would be so much better than to stay alive like this.

Arthur knew that he shouldn't think stuff like that but there was just nothing that made him want to live anymore. It was hopeless. He was never going to get out of here. He was going to die.

Arthur slipped and fell to the ground. He let out a silent scream and he found himself unable to stand up anymore. He was sure that Braginsky would go and beat him up again. He curled up on the floor and hugged himself tight, waiting for Braginsky to go and hit him for falling down.

Research. Yekaterina hated the word. Once Alfred had arrived back at her hotel room- along with a few snooty looks from the hotel staff who had gotten the wrong idea of her bringing a second man back with her- that was all they had done, huddling around her laptop and pouring through sites she had already looked at earlier. But Alfred wouldn't allow her to skip any of them, and she supposed he had good reason. Any tiny detail might have been the one they for which they were searching so hard.

Old forts. Military history. Fishing history. An interview with a fisherman. A Save the Earth!-fueled cleaning project. More history. More history. A lack of fish around the area recently, supposedly due to overfishing.

In other words, nothing that could help them. Nothing at all.

Yekaterina sighed and clicked on the next link. Just as she expected, there was nothing of importance within its website. She glanced over at Alfred's weary but focused face. "Alfred, there's nothing here that can help us."

"Keep going," he whispered as though he hadn't heard her. But she wasn't blind- she could see the pain in his eyes, the slump in his shoulders. She sighed again, more gently this time, and scrolled downwards.

***

All was going rather well, if somewhat slowly due to Arthur's state. Braginsky was sure they would be at Francis' rooms shortly, where he would leave Arthur to whatever his fate was and go back to his own sparsely furnished rooms to wait. But of course, he couldn't be so lucky- Arthur just had to go and stumble and fall to the floor.

Letting out an annoyed groan, Braginsky reached down and grabbed at Arthur, hauling him back to his feet without a thought to the man's injuries. "Now is not the time to be taking a nap," he snarled, and shoved Arthur forward. As he did so, his fingers touched something hard for a moment, something that let out a faint click that could easily have just been a figment of his imagination. He decided that it was- there was no point in making himself deal with something that was really Francis' problem. "Go!"

Arthur bit his lip and tried to suppress any sound from coming out of his mouth. It was embarrassing that he had to depend on Braginsky for him to stand back up. He wished that Braginsky had just let him stay there and rest for a little while. But, that just wasn't possible.

He held his breath and did his best to try and ignore the pain that he was feeling. He tried to walk a little bit faster, thinking that 'the sooner he got there, the sooner Francis would beat him up and then he would be able to rest again'. It wouldn't help his condition but at least he got to rest, even if it's just for a little bit. He just wished that Braginsky would stop pushing him around so much.

But, he forgot that Braginsky was a cruel man. Braginsky continued to pushed him to go faster and Arthur almost fell to the ground. It was a good thing that he hit a wall. It hurt, yes but it was better than to fall to the floor.

Arthur looked around as he heard a sound that sounded familiar to him. He thought about what is was but he really had no idea what it was. He shrugged and continued to walk, trying to walk faster so that Braginsky won't push him anymore. He just wished that it wasn't some of Brasginsky's monsters or Francis' newest machines that could torture him to death.

Alfred was slumping down further in his chair, disheartened, watching as Yekaterina scrolled through yet another unhelpful link, when he heard it. That sound- that sound! He could have recognized it anywhere. Leaping to his feet, and ignoring the pain that shot through his side at the sudden movement, and raced over to where his uniform lay. There- the radar was blinking, buzzing, reading coordinates for a signal that he knew so, so well. He lifted it up and stared disbelievingly at it for a moment.

"Alfred?" Yekaterina called from where she was still seated at the computer, watching him curiously. "What is it?"

"A miracle," Alfred replied breathlessly, unable to stop the ridiculous smile that spread out across his face. "It's a fucking miracle."

Because there, pinpointed on the radar, was one tiny, tiny dot that was telling him clearly where Arthur was being held. It made no sense- it was out in the middle of the ocean, not on any of the islands nearby- but it was moving, and even though he knew there were other possibilities, other horrible possibilities, Alfred's heart leapt at the suddenly very real chance that Arthur was still alive.

***

By the time they'd reached Francis' rooms, Braginsky was more than sick of Arthur Kirkland. The man was weak and injured, and kept stumbling and falling and making utter fools out of them both. Braginsky hated people like that. So it was with much relief that he flung Arthur through Francis' doorway, uncaring of where he landed, and turned around and walked away. If Francis needed him that badly, he would call for him.

Inside the room, Francis was seated at a large dining table covered with various types of food, dressed in an expensive suit and sipping at some more of his favorite wine. He cast a bored eye over Arthur's appearance before sighing. "You look horrible, mon cher. Come, why don't you sit at the table with me and have some dinner? Doesn't it look delicious?" He lifted the lid on one of the platters. "Mm, roast duck. My chef makes the most wonderful duck you've ever tasted. Wouldn't you like to try some?"

Arthur was sure that Braginsky was already so tired of having to deal with him. It was obvious because of the look in his face. He doesn't blame him though. He would get tired too if he had to deal with such a stubborn man like himself. As Braginsky continued with his harsh ways, Arthur just continued to stand up each time that he fell.

By the time they've arrived to where Francis was, he immediately caught the smell of something delicious. His stomach grumbled and he finally realized how hungry he was. But, he mustn't give in. This was Francis' plan, right? To make him tell where those documents are by bribing him with food... And, he wasn't even sure if he would get fed after telling him, not that he would.

Arthur glared at Francis. It won't work. If he gave in now, all of the things that he worked so hard to endure would be all in vain. He had endured much worse than this, so it shouldn't be that hard, right?

"We can't just go out there and take him back, Alfred," Yekaterina tried to explain yet again. Her last two attempts had fallen on deaf ears, and somehow she expected this one to do so as well. She sighed, crossing her arms and staring at the closed bathroom door. "There is no point in putting on your suit. We need to come up with some kind of plan."

"I have a plan," Alfred called back, bracing himself against the sink as he struggled to pull the tight spandex up his leg without pulling too hard on his stitches. "It goes like this- we go out there, we take out Braginsky and whoever else he's with, and we bring Arthur back here, safe and sound." He left out the part of that plan where he kissed Arthur senseless- he didn't think that was the kind of thing Yekaterina would care about.

"But we have no idea what's out there! If the signal is coming from the ocean, it must mean they're on some kind of ship. Ships have defenses, Alfred. And if the person behind all of this is anything like my brother, he will have every entrance and exit to that ship covered," Yekaterina insisted. "Not to mention that the last time you went up against Ivan's creations, you were nearly killed! We need a plan."

Alfred heaved a sigh. Maybe she was right... The more he thought about it, the less excitement and adrenaline clouded his judgement, and the more he realized that he couldn't just go and throw himself into the unknown like that, not if he really wanted to save Arthur. Slipping his uniform back off- he'd only managed to get one leg in to begin with- and pulling up his pants again, he pushed open the door and peered sheepishly out at Yekaterina. "So, what is the plan, then?"

***

After several long moments of silence, Francis tutted lightly and set the lid back down. "Duck is not your favorite, I presume? You're missing out, Arthur. But very well." His hand skimmed along the table a bit, fingers grazing over the lids and platters as he listed off what was sitting there. "Beef Wellington, stuffed quail, shrimp scampi... The words themselves are like food for the ears, are they not?" He kept his gaze focused intently on Arthur's reaction.

And then he finally came to the last platter- his secret weapon. Arthur was hungry, he was sure of it. Even the most obstinate of men would have to break when confronted with their human needs, especially if that need was promised to be fulfilled by something delicious. "Ah, and what's this? I don't remember ordering the chef to cook this for me." He lifted the platter into his hands and held it where Arthur could see clearly what lay atop it. "Fish and chips. How strange that it would show up at such a fancy table. I suppose I should just throw it away..." He beckoned towards one of the guards, holding out the plate as if he did intend to get rid of it, and watched Arthur carefully from the corner of his eye.

Arthur's stomach grumbled. The food smelled so delicious and he was so hungry. But, he wasn't going to lose just because of a duck! Even if it was made by the best chef in the world!

Arthur tried to think of other things to distract himself. He looked around and saw nothing but walls. Okay, so he needed to think about something else. His family? No. His friends? He didn't have any. His acquaintances? He has too many. Alfred...? He didn't want to feel sad and unloved right now. Maybe, later...

Damn. There was nothing else that he could think about... And the wonderful aroma of the food was really distracting... But! He was sure that he could his self-control was more than enough for him to endure this. He was sure of it! Nothing would--

But wait... was that...? It can't be, could it? Arthur's eyes widened as he looked at the dish Francis was holding. It was! Bloody hell. Fish and chips! This.. this fiend! He knew that Arthur was absolutely in love with that dish! It looked so delicious. He used all of his will power to try and stop himself from jumping towards Francis and shoving it all in his mouth. But he snapped out from all of his fantasies when he heard Francis insulting his favourite dish like that. And even threatening to throw it away! In front of him!

Arthur glared at Francis. He wouldn't DARE throw such a good dish away, would he? A dish like that deserved to be eaten! Not to be thrown away like it was nothing! He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth but realized that this was what Francis wanted. Arthur did his best to relax and act as if he didn't care. He would show Francis that he would never lose to him.

Sighing, Yekaterina shook her head. "There is no plan, Alfred. Haven't you been listening? Right now, we are at a major disadvantage, in that our enemies know about us but we know almost nothing about them or what they intend to do. Without some idea of their plans, we can't come up with our own. It just wouldn't work."

"But..." She was right, though, and Alfred knew it. That didn't mean he had to accept it happily. "How are we supposed to figure out what they want, then?" he demanded. "The only person who would know is Arthur, and he's the one we're going to save!" None of this was helping. What were they supposed to do, sit around and wait for something to just fall into their laps?

He must have spoken his thoughts aloud, for Yekaterina shook her head once again. "Not sit around, no. We have Arthur's vague location, which must mean we have the location of whoever wanted my brother to take him. And if Arthur was the target, he must have or know something that they want. Is there anything you can think of, anything he might have known?"

Alfred thought about that for a moment. "Well, he is the boss of a big newspaper... He probably knows a lot about all different kinds of things. Do you think something in there might be what they're after?"

"I have no idea," she said honestly, "but it's our only lead, and I say it's worth a shot."

***

Ah, so it seemed that Arthur was still intending to hold out. Francis stared at him a moment longer, then set the platter of fish and chips back down on the table. "Obstinate as always, I see. But the human body does not like to starve, Arthur, and eventually you will give in, or I will have to send someone to force-feed you raw egg every morning so you don't die on me." He tapped his finger on the edge of the plate. "Of course, though, you could still just tell me what I want to know, and then you could eat to your heart's desire. The choice seems simple enough to me."

Those documents... Every day that he didn't have them in his hands was another day that someone else could potentially take them. Only a few knew of their existence, after all, and several of those few had more than enough intelligence and manpower to find them. Francis would so hate to lose out to any of his colleagues, though, especially when so much was on the line. So he sat there and waited for Arthur to break.

Natalia knew that she needed to get back to her dear brother. But, she thinks that he wouldn't accept him back if she had not brought anything with her anything that might be useful to him. They already have Arthur Kirkland... So, what could she bring to her brother?

She thought for a moment. Why did they need Kirkland again? Something about some documents... documents that could change the world. Natalia's eyes widened. That's it! That's what she needed to bring to Ivan! She needed to find those documents and bring them to her dear brother! That way, he would be able to forgive her and they could be together once more!

She stood up and grabbed her coat. She was going to get those documents, no matter what the cost was.

**

Arthur knew that Francis was right. He would surely die if he didn't eat anything. But, he refused to say anything to Francis. If he said where he hid those documents, he would still die but along with countless others. It just wasn't worth it. He didn't need to drag all those innocent people down with him.

He turned away from the plate in front of him, trying not to go and stuff everything on it in his mouth like an animal. He can do this. Just a few more minutes, Francis would be tired of this and then he would be sent back to his room. Just a few more minutes...