"Captain!"

A tall, tanned black haired man dressed in a red overcoat, his black hat perched on his head, tilted just a bit to the side, the white feathers tinted red leaning over to the ground. His sea green eyes opened as the sailor who had called him made his way over, breathing and panting heavily. "Captain, I see a ship in the far west!"

"Oh?" the captain replied, amused. "Is it of any importance?"

The sailor nodded. "The scouts could see treasure sprawled away on the deck, weaponry and barrels of drinks enough to last for years!"

The Spanish captain smirked. "So what're you men waiting for?! Prepare for a raid!" All the soldiers and sailors hollered at their captain's words and grabbed whatever tools they could find, and steered their ships towards their new plunder. The captain stepped into his quarters, his boots clinking on the wooden floor. He grabbed a blade from his desk. "The seas have been quiet. I've missed some action,"

He smirked once again and ran his gloved hand over the silver blade. Suddenly, a loud boom sent the ship shaking and the captain dropped his blade on the ground in surprise. His eyes widened as he heard his men screaming; many of which sounded more out of fear than out of joy. Many didn't even sound like his men! Another boom sounded and an explosion was heard, this time, even closer. The green eyed brunette furrowed his brows. Are we being attacked?! He thought as he grabbed his weapon and ran out his door to see fire and red splattering everywhere. There were dead bodies sprawled across his floor and he bristled to see that they were his men. He saw the rest of his men trying to fend out other pale skinned men who were laughing merrily as they slashed and chopped. He growled at the remaining soldiers. "What are you imbeciles doing letting yourself be beaten by these pale roughnecks?!"

"There are legion of ships heading this way, captain Carriedo!" the soldiers cried and the captain bristled as he pulled out his blade to kill the oncoming men.

It seemed fruitless, though, there were too many enemies coming. But he didn't feel the need to give up.

Not yet.

"At least these ones can put up a fight." A low baritone voice sounded and the captain snapped his eyes up to see a blond haired man in a long black coat which was tinted red, his eyes a lighter green than the man staring up at him. The blond looked down to see the brunette and smirked. "Are you their captain?"

The man in question just growled as he brought forth his sword. "What is it to you?"

The blond hopped down and with cat like reflexes, made his way behind the green eyed brunette and put a sword to his neck before the other even had a chance to react. "Because, my good sir, your ships are about to be plundered." The Spanish captain growled even more and attempted to move, but the blonde's firm arms kept him in place. "No, no, no, my good sir," the blond snarled, "You ought to remain still if you want to live, don't you think?"

The Spaniard gritted his teeth. "Better death than to live while being humiliated by the like of you British!"

The blond Englishman smirked. "May be so, but I prefer to keep you alive for such a reason. I want to have fun with you, Captain Antonio Fernandez Carriedo."

That was all the Spanish man heard before darkness overcame him.

–

Antonio opened his eyes to meet a familiar mop of blond hair and bright green eyes. He snarled at the man but found that his arms and feet were shackled in chains. His wrists and ankles began to bruise as he thrashed around, attempting to grab at his abductor to injure him.

The blond just laughed at his expense and smiled as he sat on the bedside chair. "Nice to see you haven't lost your vigour despite being sick," he said with a chuckle.

Antonio frowned as he heard the other man's words. "Sick?" He made out with a voice he didn't know had gone hoarse.

The blond rolled his eyes. "Fever and rough coughing. Out for about two days. I think it's safe to assume that you're sick."

Antonio realized that he felt tired and throat was raw as he tried to make out words. The blond saw that and grabbed a glass of water from the table behind him. He held the glass with one hand and held Antonio's head up with the other as the Spanish man drank.

Antonio was asleep ever so quickly but he swore he felt the blond gently stroking his hair.

–

The next time Antonio awoke, he didn't know what to think. His chains had come off and he looked and felt less sick. What had awoken his from his slumber was that of the Brit rummaging through the room, the loud clatter of metal and stones, valuable and not, hitting the ground. Antonio was so close to saying, Can't you do this quieter? But the Brit had such a desperate and panicked look on his face, he didn't know if he should be laughing because his captor was in such a state, or to be bothered to worry. He heard the Englishman make a string of curses as he continued looking for something around the room, throwing every non-important thing to the ground.

Finally, he spared a glance at the Spaniard and looked firmly at the man. He walked over, his eyes narrowed into a glare as he towered over Antonio. "How long have you been on the sea?" He asked.

"Far longer than you, I assure you," Antonio replied briskly. The British pirate gave a vile smirk and grasped the other's hands in chains again and pulled him by his upper arm outside the door. He was practically dragging the tanned male over the deck of the ship. The other men on the deck laughed at Antonio, making the Spanish man glare in anger. He eyed the rough hand on his arm and gritted his teeth.

He'd make this man pay.

Then, a short man bearing a sword and scope, trotted over to them."Sir Kirkland, there is an army of ships waiting by the next current," he said.

The blond clicked his tongue. "Those bloody bastards have the nerve to stand against me? Show 'em the wrath of the British Empire!" He snarled and the men hurried, getting ready all weaponry, canons and swords all the same. The blond smirked and continued on his way to drag Antonio up the stairs, and into another room. He threw Antonio against the wall and resumed rummaging through the many cabinets and drawers.

The Spanish man glanced around. He saw gold and other gems sprawled out on the ground in a small bag. The rug on the floor gave for wealth, the cabinets and the things being thrown on the ground resembled value.

Antonio eyed the blond. "You're Arthur Kirkland?" He asked and the man in question smirked. "I am," he replied, not even pausing to look at him.

Then he stopped. He pulled out a tiny clear bottle filled with red liquid and sealed shut with a cork. He pulled it out and took a big whiff. A smile made its way onto the pirate's face and he closed it again, stuffing it in his coat. He the reached into a drawer and pulled out another chain and clasped it around Antonio's neck and pulled it, much to Antonio's reluctance.

Arthur pulled on the chain binding his neck and licked his lips. "Such a pretty face," he purred, "Too bad I'm going to have to kill you." He brought his face closer to Antonio's and planted a rough kiss on him. He slowly sucked on the tanned male's lip and shoved his tongue in, free to roam and explore, and to plunder. Antonio resisted and pulled back as he felt the other male's arms on him, but Arthur just pulled him closer again. A second passed and Arthur pulled away, his hand gently grazing over the Spanish man's chin. He looked at the bound and glaring male with a blank face and got up and turned away, heading for the door.

"I'm going into battle. When this door will be opened again, well, God knows, I suppose." With that, he tossed the key to the chains' and shackles' locks on the bed beside their captor and turned to flash the Spaniard one last look.

Antonio's glare melted away as he saw the look on Arthur's face. He walked back and whispered into his ear.

"Forgive this one's mistake,"

The blond smiled softly as he turned and walked past the door, ignoring Antonio's calls and attempts to pull him back. Even ignoring the tears.

The next time that door opened, it was after countless explosions and shakes. After countless screams and sounds of weapons clashing. But no one dared to approach the door, and Antonio sat there, uselessly trying to get the key that was now thrown onto the ground. So when the door opened, Antonio was expecting to be Arthur again.

But no, the door was kicked down and Francis's long blond hair and blue coat peered through. "Antonio, mon ami!" the Frenchman cried as he ran to the Spanish man, dropping the rifle he bore to the ground and to unlock the chains and shackles.

"Francis?" Antonio gasped incredulously at his friend and rubbed the bruises on his wrists and ankles. "You were the one whose ships were parked away?"

Francis nodded and gave the shaking Spaniard a hand up. "Goodness, Antonio! Your clothes!" he pointed to the tattered white undershirt and brown pants that he had been wearing.

Antonio chuckled. "Well, I don't they let their prisoners were the clothing filled with artillery."

"Maybe not," Francis replied, "But certainly zhe English don't put zheir prisoners in zhe captain's quarters."

Antonio gave the now wrecked room one last glance. No wonder it had looked so extravagant. Now the only question is why he would put him in here. And those words of his…

Antonio was shook away as Francis helped him down on the shore of the island. "What were you doing here anyway?" he asked the Frenchman.

Francis shrugged. "We were hoping for some good stuff, but zhe damned crew hid it all away when we raided. Zhey pushed our ships back, but we managed to get zhis one. All to loss though."

Antonio nodded. "You mean you didn't see the captain?"

"Non, I met 'im and we clashed a bit. I was almost winning! So close to killing 'im! But 'e just 'ad to pull out zhat poisoned blood sword of 'is." Francis grumbled.

Antonio nodded, relieved.

I want you here.

He shook his head trying to deny it.

I want you safe.

Denial was not working, not for this one.

I need you to tell me. What are you doing to me?

Antonio shook his head and sighed. He looked to his french friend and wondered what had become of the English pirate. He stood up and brushed his pants. "I'm going to go."

"Go?" Francis looked at him confused. "Where?"

Antonio shrugged and trotted away. He didn't know where he was going; this island was unknown territory to him.

Yet he continued to go forward and up, climbing through thickets of trees and branches, till he came upon a small brown spotted rabbit, carrying a small dirtied white cloth covered in red splotches all over it. The rabbit perked its ears at Antonio, then it proceeded to scamper off into the woods.

And for some unknown reason, Antonio felt possessed to follow it. He struggled to keep up with the smaller animal and his eyes widened as it ran around trees and hid into a small cave like entrance.

"Oh, no you don't!" the Spanish man yelled as he ran into the entrance, but was met with the most divergent sight his eyes had graced him with.

Arthur looked up with much effort and kindly greeted the bunny that had got him the cloth and wiped at the gash on his side. He winced in pain as another taller figure marched right in after the rabbit. He made way for his sword, thinking that it might be one of the Frog's men. Instead, he was met with the Spaniard that was previously his prisoner. Arthur chuckled dryly at Antonio's bewildered and downright shocked face.

"Crazy coincidence, ay?" the Englishman chuckled, then winced as his ribs were pulled.

Antonio glanced a tab bit worriedly at the bloodied pirate. "Uh, are you okay?"

Arthur gritted his teeth as he attempted to quench the obvious blood flow from his abdomen and shivered as he felt lightheaded. The sword in his hand fell with a clink and he doubled over in pain. He inwardly grimaced, thinking how the Spanish pirate probably is planning of different ways of doing him in.

Antonio inched closer and knelt down, to see Arthur on the same eye level. He'd heard so many stories about the great captain Arthur Kirkland of the British Empire, and though the many times, he had dreamt of taking the said captain down, he had never once thought he'd get such a close up view on him. Especially when he was in pain over something Antonio hadn't caused. Or at least, Antonio thought he hadn't caused it.

Nonetheless, Antonio grabbed the various pieces of cloth idling around the panting blond; some of them were handed to him by the brown spotted rabbit, to whom he nodded thankfully at.

Antonio wrapped them around the torn flesh and tied them securely to stop the blood flow. Arthur winced and gasped as the movement surged the pain through his body. Antonio mumbled a small apology as he continued to wipe the sweat and blood off. The Englishman's coat and shirt lay abandoned on the ground as the pale chest heaved up and down in an attempt to find air.

After Antonio's handiwork, Arthur fell into a dreamless sleep. The last thing he remembered was the soft and gentle movements the tanned male made as he rubbed the cloth against the blond's drenched skin.

–

Antonio woke up as he felt cold liquid drip down his forehead. He flickered his tired eyes open as he wrenched himself from the bed sheets he had tangled himself into. He looked around his large room and could hear the TV faintly in the other room. So it had all been a dream. He shook his head. It's been awhile since I dreamt of the past. I wonder if Arturo remember sit.

Antonio cracked a small smile that ended up looking just like a grimace. Shaking his head, h turned and his eyes widened as he saw a certain blond Englishman in the chair at his desk, sleeping in a position that is bound to be awkward.

Then, the door to his room clicked open and a blond Frenchman stepped in. His eyes widened and he smiled. "Antonio! You're awake!" he said, then proceeded to hug the Spaniard.

Antonio continued looking at Arthur. "What is he doing here?" he asked Francis.

Francis in turn gave a small smile. "When you collapsed at zhe meeting, it was 'im who insisted zhat he take you 'ome. I came a day later to check up on you to see your fever drastically reduced and 'im not willing to leave your side for even one moment."

Antonio smiled. "I suppose his hard work has paid off then, huh?"

Francis smiled and took the other blond off the chair and cradled him in his arms. "Come, let's get you fed and 'im into a bed." he said to Antonio who climbed off and followed the Frenchman out. Francis made a quick stop to the guest room and came back chuckling.

Antonio furrowed his brows. "What's wrong?"

Francis just laughed. "Oh, non, non, Arthur was just mumbling something about zhe olden days."

"Huh? What did he say?" the confused emerald eyed male.

Francis just laughed as he walked off to the kitchen.