Synopsis: The deal was that the researchers would feed their own creations: their '2Ps'. However, when Arthur refuses Oliver from feeding off him, the Brit decides to capture his own food source; and hold him hostage. Vampire AU. OllieGil (Oliver x Gilbert; 2P!England x Prussia)

Casually warns that I do not own Hetalia or vampires.

Rated M because hints to sex and swearing. Probably non-con/dub-con, idk which yet. Stockholm syndrome as well? Er- I think, we'll see how this goes. No lemons, whoops. Probably death around somewhere or other. You know how you do.

Two men stood within the tunnel-like hallway, staring down the inside of one of the cells. For a high-tech facility, the cells themselves weren't designed the fanciest. The walls were metal, for the most part, but glossed over with an ivory, plastic-like coating, which made them appear more durable than they probably were. The rest of the hallway mimicked this design, so the entire area they were surrounded in appeared blank; void to life and colour. However, they were smooth to the touch, easy to wash down and clean, and generally more comfortable to sit upon than slabs of concrete, so the scientists found them the ideal source to make their prisons out of. The only things that were different about this hallway compared to the other hallways with cells were two things: the milky film of smoke coming from the first cell, and the unbearable scent of a flowery cherry perfume from the second.

Instead of blocking off the cell with the hallway with a glass door, or maybe a whole wall to block off any chances of escape, the cell was separated from the hall with the cliche tactic: bars. This made it easy to see the inmate that the two men in the hallway were staring down: a brunette male, looking the age of 23, who leaned his head lazily against the bars and smiled up to them. Oliver Kirkland, a three-month-old vampire.

After a moment of silence, the first man scoffed, folding his arms across his lab coat and turning away from the cell. "I refuse," he declared, an English accent poignant on his lips. He glared at the male in the hall with him, refusing to turn his gaze back to the vampire within the cell. Even down the glaringly bright hallway, casting upon the three like unforgiving spotlights, the shorter remained in his position without a fidget in sight.

"We made an agreement with them though, right Artie?" The taller male gave a light frown, his brows furrowing in confusion. "Aren't we supposed to, y'know, feed them?"

"He said he was fine, just a bit hungry," the shorter replied, which made Oliver's strained grin twitch. "The taking of blood for them makes us weaker though, Alfred, surely you have realized that from feeding— What was it you called him again? Albert?"

"Allen," Alfred corrected, now turning to face the cell again. Blue eyes met with those of the brunette inside, before scanning over his thinner figure. Oliver was the splitting image of the shorter male, with a lower height and leaner figure, and how the curves on his face was almost creepily identical to the other. However, there were few unexplained differences between the vampires and their creators. Oliver, for one, had bright cerulean eyes and tousled maroon hair, which was unlike the emerald eyes and dirty blonde shade of hair that Arthur Kirkland had.

"Right." The roll of this blonde's eyes made Alfred's frown deepen, and he turned back to the other. "Well, I am the head of this facility, so I can't afford to let myself down for a minute. I'm still scanning the DNA for inconsistencies every minute we speak." The vampire held hostage merely lay his head on the bars, watching the scene with that stagnant—though tense—grin. "I already get tired enough as it is without half my energy being drained by him every day."

"But—"

"It's not happening, Alfred." The tone was finalizing, and Arthur spun on his heel and began pacing off in the opposite direction. Alfred took a step towards him, reaching a hand to pull him back, but when the other gave a dismissive wave, he stopped in his tracks. "Now, what I told you was clear: Find this vampire a food source. That is all."

Alfred stayed silent as he watched his superior walk off down the halls, his shoes clacking away until he spun around the corridor and slammed a door. Not even the vampire in the cell piped a word during this, merely laying himself against the iron rods that contained him. After a sigh, Alfred turned to the vampire.

"Sorry, bud. I'll find you a good food source soon then, yeah?" The smile he flashed to Oliver attempted to be reassuring, though it came off as slightly awkward. However, it seemed to amuse the person in the cell, as he let out a laugh in return.

"Please, take your lovely little time!" The happy voice wavered in tone, as if keeping a tight lid shut over a pot threatening to boil over. Even after this, there was still that mask of a joyful expression the strange brunette plastered on his features. It was assumed by the other scientists that, after a few more days of this torture, Oliver would become a lot more vicious... "Find me a cute girl, perhaps? Then I could have some fun other than just eating…"

"For sure!" Alfred threw up his fists, laughing a bit more now. "That's the spirit! You don't need that stick-in-the-mud Britch to be happy!"

A wavy giggle echoed from the cage, and though the male inside nodded quickly in response, Alfred still appeared unnerved by the reaction. "I shall look forward to someone ten times— No, perhaps twenty times better! I assure you, I am not worried in the least!"

"Yeah! I'm the hero!" the human declared with a smirk, crossing his arms over his chest and lifting his head up. "I'll get someone ASAP, yo! In fact, I'll look through our options right away! You wanted a girl, yeah?"

Oliver nodded with a note of acceptance purring from his throat. However, just as Alfred turned on his heel to dash off, the vamp piped up yet again.

"Oh, and Alfred, dear?"

Alfred screeched to a halt, stumbling to return to his spot by the cell. "Yeah?"

"I would recommend," he began, flashing his known innocent smile, "that you do not attempt to fix this solution by forcing Arthur and I together again. I am terribly afraid that boy has left such a scar in my stomach... It is simply dreadful! If I were left alone with him, I may just suck him dry!"

Alfred couldn't help but shiver at the threat. It wasn't unknown to the scientists what it was like to be drank severely until unconsciousness. On those first few days of creation, all of the vampires needed practice on how much was the 'right amount' of blood to suck. There was a lot of trial and error. "Noted," he replied, before giving a wary look to the side. His hand reached up to tug at his collar, but other than that, the two were caught in silence.

That was, however, until the blonde took a step toward the cage and offered his wrist to it. The vampire blinked at first, then turned his eyesight upwards with a raised eyebrow. Alfred laughed. "You still hungry though? A hero shouldn't let people die of hunger, yeah? I mean, I have a bit of blood I could share…"

The brunette didn't answer at first. His eyes latched down to the hand, caught in a silent trance. Slowly, his gaze trailed up the boy's arm and across his shoulder, until it landed on the human's kind face. However, when their cerulean eyes met, Oliver suddenly let out a string of laughter. He waved his hand around in dismissal, before sitting back from the bars. "No, no! I am perfectly fine for now!" His eyes flickered down to the hand again, but almost immediately shook itself away. "You go feed that child of yours, Allen. You surely know what he may say of you trying to feed both of us! Honestly, I can hold off for a few more days."

"You sure?" Since Alfred still appeared worried, the vampire slid back against the smooth floor, leaning against a farther wall and kicking one of his legs over the other.

"Absolutely positive! Do you distrust my judgement, dear boy?"

The scientist gave a hum of thought, staring down the vampire. However, he dismissed that smile for what it was and gave a sigh. "Alright, but if you get hungry and we still don't have someone for you…"

Oliver waved him off. "You are far too protective, love. I am fine, I am fine!"

Alfred gave a slight nod, though he perked up a second later to provide a heroic smile and a thumbs up to the brunette. After being waved off, the human spun around and continued on his way, opposite from his superior that walked in moments ago.

Oliver waited there until the rushing footsteps faded off into the distance. After the soft click of the faraway door echoed in the halls, he merely paused. He stared down at the floor with the same blank expression that gazed to that wrist, breaths slow and relaxed, and mind drifting somewhere far away.

A hesitant hand of his raised up to his vision. Those cerulean eyes scanned over the silky covering of his own flesh, before his other hand reached up and traced over the skin of his fingers. He touched down his palm, slowly, gently, until the tips of his nails were grazing over his wrist.

Then, the hand removed itself, and the vampire lurched the wrist towards his lips. He tore into the surface with his fangs, ripping open the paper skin until the throbbing of his body cried in pain and the flow of tainted blood rushed into his throat. The sucking motions he made mimicked desperation, practically breathing in the substance and eagerly allowing the assuring trickle of blood to ooze down his esophagus.

When Oliver finally yanked away from his wrist, the first place his gaze decided to linger was down to his new injury. A look of longing stared down at the raw skin, and once again, those gentle, quivering fingers reached over to stroke over the pounding wrist. However, instead of moving towards his skin yet again, the brunette tugged his arm to his chest, before he tilted over and curled in on himself. No footsteps, no voices, no sound. Only the echo of a few staggering breaths echoed down those lifeless hallways.