"Theodore." A hushed voice. Theodore stirred momentarily before going still again. A shake on his shoulder. "Theodore, wake up." His eyes shot open; he threw out an fist. Hershel caught it easily, his red eyes gazing into Theodore's with an anxious sense of excitement.

"What is it?" Hershel opened his mouth, then paused, glancing around.

"We're getting out of here."

"What?!" Hershel slapped a hand over Theo's mouth, then placed a finger over his.

"Shhh." He paused, looking over when their father stirred. "Theodore, we need to get out of here. Father isn't stable." Hershel's eyes turned sad when he eyed the large, white bandage on the side of Hershel's face. His gaze hardened before he continued. "We need to escape and get help."

"But what about him?"

"What about him?"

"We can't just leave him here." Hershel frowned.

"He hurt you." Theodore raised a hand to the bandage, his eyebrows furrowing. He couldn't move his face much; the stitches would pull and it would bleed again. It would hurt like hell, too.

"I didn't do what he wanted me to do. I was weak."

"Theodore. No." Hershel moved away. "You didn't want to hurt the trespasser. You had every right to not want to. He could have always gotten someone else to."

"He asked me, though." Hershel stared at him for a moment, then stepped away.

"Come on, get ready to go. I have a aircraft waiting." Theodore's eyes widened. He was serious.

"Hershel --"

"No. I won't let you stay and get hurt anymore." He pulled him up; Theodore stumbled a bit before regaining his balance, and paused before moving to change into his uniform. Hershel stopped him. "No. Normal clothing." Theodore blinked before moving to his dresser, opening a drawer and pulling out what he hoped was normal before slipping it on. Hershel watched him, staring at the bruises that were on his younger brother's skin. His gaze moved over his torso.

"He's hurt you before." Hershel's voice was quiet. Theodore glanced over at him as he pulled on his shirt.

"Yeah?" Hershel frowned, his red eyes flashing. Theodore had only been ten when his mother died. Her death had spurred this, the nights of yelling and hitting when Bronev got too drunk or angry to realize who he was hurting. His gaze then shifted to his brother's arms before they widened.

"Where did you get those?" Theodore's stomach dropped; he needed to think of something.

"Training. My partner has been getting better." He pulled his arms through the long sleeves, covering the scars and pink lacerations on them. Hershel's frown deepened, and Theo knew he wasn't buying it. His brother knew him better than anyone. He pulled on some jeans and a pair of shoes. "Is this acceptable?"

Hershel was still staring at his arms before he nodded. "Yeah. Just pull on a jacket and grab anything you want to take that can fit in your pocket." Theodore did so quickly, first pocketing his knife from his dresser before turning to Hershel again. He paused then, turning and staring at the picture frame on the bedside table by his father before picking it up silently and removing the picture, sticking it in his pocket. He froze when his father stirred again, ducking down quickly when his eyes opened. He waited a long moment, shaking and covering his mouth with his hand. If Bronev knew what his sons were doing, there'd be no telling what he'd do to them. He would hurt him to get to Hershel. Hershel seemed to have a high pain tolerance; punishing him was just a waste. That's what their father told him. Hurting Theodore was the only way to get to him.

Hershel's voice reached his ears, hushed, careful. "He's asleep, Theo. Let's go now, before he wakes up for real." Theodore quickly crawled around Bronev's bed and stood shakily to his feet next to his brother. Hershel grabbed his hand tightly. "Don't cry." Theodore raised a hand to his face, wiping away the tears that had started to trail down his face unnoticed. "It's going to be okay soon. I've been talking to someone. He said he'd be willing to help us." Hershel moved to the door, opening it silently and pulling Theo through it, shutting it just as silently.

"I've mapped out the guards' patrol routes. They shouldn't be on the path we're taking now, but we'll need to be quick about it."

Theodore nodded, and let Hershel pull him through the hallways and narrow corridors of Targent. They soon approached the hangar, Hershel moving quickly towards a small helicopter, jumping into the cockpit.

"Get in the back. I can handle driving this on my own." Hershel's voice was still hushed, still urgent, when Theodore jumped in the back, shutting the door and hunching down as the older brother started the engine. Hershel fidgeted with the controls.

"Come on, come on…." He finally managed to lift off just as the alarms started. Hershel cursed, looking back to Theodore's terrified expression. 'It'll be okay', he mouthed. Theo wasn't sure if he believed him until they were fully in the sky, moving away from Targent's base quickly.

Theodore didn't realize he was holding his breath until his exhaled shakily. His hands were clammy and shaky; he clenched them into fists.

He was nervous. He was scared. He felt like he was going to vomit. Hershel glanced back at him again, a worried expression on his face. Theodore could tell that his brother wanted to comfort him, to do anything to help.

He remembered then. He reached into his pocket, grabbing a bottle of pills. They helped him sleep. He'd always had insomnia; he raided the infirmary in Targent to get them before they left -- he knew they'd help.

He tossed them back to Theodore. The younger brother jumped, then picked up the bottle slowly, staring at the label. Hershel knew what was going through Theodore's mind. They weren't prescription medicine, he had made sure of that. They were over the counter -- not as strong as he'd wanted, but they'd do.

Theodore pulled off the lid after a moment, taking a single pill and downing it before closing the lid and placing them in his own pocket. He looked down at his hands then, trembling violently.

A long moment passed before Theodore began to doze off, his head drooping before he jerked it back up. At least he wasn't trembling anymore. He finally laid on his side and closed his eyes. Hershel closed his eyes in relief, then opened them again. Only a little more flying to go, then it would be walking until they reached London, where his friend was waiting for him. He'd been a family friend since before they'd been taken by Targent. It would all be alright. Raymond would be able to help them. He'd always been kind to the two boys. Hershel wouldn't need to worry as much anymore.

Hershel landed the helicopter in a rural area, a field, really, before finally breathing a sigh of relief. The hardest part was over. He jumped out of the cockpit before opening the other door and shaking Theodore lightly.

"Hey, Theo. We've landed." The younger boy sighed before going silent again. Hershel couldn't help but smile. He couldn't quite remember the last time he'd seen Theodore sleeping so peacefully. He'd let him sleep a while before he woke him up.

His eyes drifted to his brother's arms, then. The lacerations on his brother -- those weren't from training. Those cuts were too precise, too plentiful. He hadn't trained in a few days, either. Some of them were recent -- yesterday recent. He rolled up the sleeves on Theodore's arms gently, grabbing one to examine it more closely.

Theodore gasped, jolting into a sitting position and pulling his arm away. His eyes were still hazy with sleep, but he knew what Hershel had been staring at. They gazed at each other for a long moment before Theodore turned his gaze to the floor of the aircraft.

"Are we waiting for your friend?" Theodore asked quietly, holding his arm close to his chest. Hershel frowned slightly.

"We're going to have to walk to him." Theodore nodded minutely. "I think you know him. Do you remember Raymond?" Theo nodded again. Hershel bit his lip. "Are you ready to go?" Another nod. "...Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"You don't seem fine." Theodore looked up at him, eyes hard. Hershel knew that look. He was hiding his real emotions.

"I'm fine." His voice was weak, didn't hold any conviction. "Just… the effects of the pill you gave me." He stood then, pulling his sleeve down and jumping out of the aircraft. "Let's get going."

Hershel stared at him for a long moment before jumping down as well. He started walking, and after a moment, he heard Theodore following him.

London was bustling with people by the time the two arrived there. Hershel looked back to Theodore; he was hoping he'd see a reaction. Theodore's expression was blank, it seemed like he wasn't even aware of his surroundings. He turned and paused, and Theodore continued walking until he bumped into his older brother. He blinked once, twice, then looked up at Hershel.

"What is it?"

"We're in London." Theodore blinked a few times.

"We are?"

"Yes -- yes, we are." Hershel was growing more and more worried for his younger brother the longer he continued acting like this. "Are you really --"

"I'm fine." Theodore answered more quickly than Hershel would have liked. "I'm fine, really."

"Hershel?" The red-eyed man spun around, his eyes falling on a familiar figure.

"Raymond?" Theodore remained silent as a man approached them.

"Thank goodness you're here safe." Raymond looked at Theodore, saw the white bandaging. "Well, mostly safe. What happened?"

"Not out here. Can we go to your place?" Raymond pursed his lips and nodded.

"Yes, yes." The man moved to Theodore then, placed a hand on his shoulder. "It'll be alright now, my boy."

Theodore flinched then, throwing an arm out as if he had expected to be hit. Raymond frowned. "Let's go. My home is not that far from here."

Hershel had been strong until they stepped into Raymond's home, then his shoulders slumped, as if the weight of the world weighed on his shoulders. Theodore was no better, the moment he stepped inside, he moved to the living room, plopping down on the couch and resting his head in his hands. Raymond frowned. These two had been through more than he was aware of. Hershel had only told him the bare minimum, and even then it had been almost too much for Raymond to handle.

Hershel sat next to Theodore, placing a hand on his shoulder. Theo's shoulders drooped even further.

"He's going to be so mad," Theodore finally muttered. Hershel frowned.

"Hey. He doesn't know where we are."

"When he finds us, I'm dead." Raymond frowned. Theodore was not the smiling child he remembered. He was too old for his age. "You know he hurts me when we step out of line."

"He won't find us. I promise he won't." Hershel's voice was quiet, shaky. "I thought this through completely. He won't find us."

"Do you know what he does to me?" Theodore asked. "Do you know what he does to me when we get in trouble?"

"Theodore --"

"He -- he ties me up --"

"What --"

"-- and he…." Theodore shook his head. "Ever since mum died, he's been different."

"What does he do?"

"He… he --" Theodore was beginning to tremble.

"Theodore…." Hershel's voice dripped with realization. "Did he…?"

"Not him." Theodore took a shaky breath. "The agents he favored." A long pause -- Raymond wondered if he should try and help, but soon realized this situation was far out of his experience. "The agents he favored… he would..." Hershel was silent for a moment.

"Theodore, we're safe now."

"Are we?" Theodore looked up from his hands, then, looked Hershel in the eyes. "Are we truly safe?"

Hershel looked at Raymond, his red eyes burning with an emotion Raymond couldn't quite place, then nodded. "We're safe. I promise, we're safe. I won't let him touch you ever again." Theodore sniffed.

"It hurt so much."

"Don't think about it." Hershel pulled Theodore into a tight embrace. "Don't think about it, Theo. We will make sure you're kept away from any of those bastards." He glanced at Raymond again, eyes pleading.

"We'll keep you safe," Raymond finally said. "That, I promise."

Theodore hesitated before nodding. "...Thank you."