Hey there, Fang here.

Here's the next installment, as promised. I really am fighting off my procrastination on this one. I just need to run with this muse for as long as I can.

I hope you enjoy! :)

It had taken a few minutes, but Alfred had finally found suitable ice-pack-like things, large enough to effectively cover the offensive bruise on Arthur's jaw. He couldn't do much in way of an apology in order to fully make up for his aggressive behavior toward his brother during the meeting, but this was as close as he could get. He hadn't seen any sign of Russia anywhere in the building to his relief. He assumed that he had simple gone home, finding himself without anyone to harass.

The American didn't think he had let too much guilt shine through in his expression, but still Arthur somehow knew exactly what he was thinking. It was uncanny how with a single glance, he could unfold any emotion or any fear and tell it to you straight back. Arthur had seen right through the friendly mask he had erected around his guilt at hurting his brother again, and had immediately forgiven him before he had ever said a single word. A surge of affection for his tsundere brother rushed through him, and he gripped the ice packs tighter.

Alfred opened the doors to the outside of the building and half-jogged to where he had left his brother sitting on the bench only a few moments ago.

"Hey, Artie! I got them, bro!" he yelled as he turned the corner. He met with an empty wooden bench.

"Artie?" his voice rang out into empty air as he looked around the area rather confused. Arthur wouldn't have just left like that, would he? Did he leave? Maybe he went to the bathroom or went for a walk, his quickly panicking mind tried to tell him. Or he had decided to head back to his own place, and had simply forgotten to tell Alfred. No…his car was still in the parking lot. But then…?

Trying desperately to keep his suspicions cool and under control, Alfred stepped back into the meeting building to search. The bathroom was empty of people, as were all of the hallways and even the meeting room where they had all been gathered not half an hour ago. Arthur was nowhere to be seen.

Alfred was full-on running now, his anxiety catching up with him in force. Every second that Arthur wasn't in his sight was another point for his worst fears. He rushed out into the daylight and made a beeline for the parking lot. Turning around and around in circles, he searched for something, anything that could be of Arthur's or was a part of Arthur himself.

As he had noticed before, Arthur's car was still right in its perfectly parked place. There was no sign of any struggle, or that Arthur had been there close to it in the past hour or so. Alfred swept his eyes around the rest of the lot, trying to pretend he wasn't looking for one certain car in particular.

He never found that car. It caught him up tightly, and he choked down the fear still pressing into his chest.

Alfred hurried to where Russia's car was parked earlier and started circling the spot, wishing dreadfully that he wouldn't find a damn thing to confirm his growing suspicions.

His hopes were dashed when he bent down on one knee and picked up a silver cufflink from the side of the yellow line of the space. It glinted in the sunlight mockingly. A silver cufflink that had fallen off a British gentleman's jacket.

Alfred clutched the cufflink in his fist, feeling the solid metal stark cold against his skin. His eyebrows drew together, and he was barely able to contain his out-of-control fury.

"ARTHUR!" he shouted out into the sky. Rage, worry, fright, all emotions shot up into life in that one word. It echoed off the buildings and trees, reverberating all around the empty lot.

That bastard. Alfred couldn't even think his name without wanting to crush his shaking fist into the ground. That bastard had…Alfred couldn't wrap his head around it.

Arthur. Arthur was gone. Arthur was gone. Arthur was gone. Arthur. Russia. Arthur. Gone.

Trying to hold his every-growing panic and hate, he stood up, fumbling for his cell phone that now seemed too deep in his jacket pocket for convenience. Dialing furiously, he paced back and forth restlessly four times and listened to three rings before that obnoxious French-accented voice came up over the phone.

"L'Amerique? To what pleasure do I owe this call? Is it possible that you have taken up my offer for that you call 'a romp in the woods'? Because if it is….I was just thinking about you…you moving against me while I pin you against a wall…sweat running down your-"

"Shut up." Alfred's vehement tone cut him off.

"…L'Amerique, you know I was only half-joking-"

"I said to shut the fuck up, France. I'm not calling your ass to listen to you shoot your mouth off about shit like that. You listen to me, and you listen good. Arthur's gone."

Alfred was dashing to his own car, shoving his hands in his pockets for his keys and keeping the phone by his ear with his shoulder.

"…What?" France's disbelieving and confused voice came over the line.

"You heard me, France. He's missing. His car is still here."

"Well, he couldn't have wandered far. Though I do remember that lovely time when he was little that he lost himself in a tree-"

"Russia's car is gone. And I found one of Arthur's cufflinks right next to the parking spot." Alfred spat out.

France's silence spoke volumes.

"But…there could be many explanations for this-"

" Fuck no there isn't! That communist bastard has Artie, damn it!"

"Now you don't-"

"I do know that, France! You have no fucking-"

"L'Amerique, please calm yourself."

"I can't be calm about this, France! For God's sake, my brother is in the clutches of that piece of shit, because there is no other explanation! He isn't anywhere in the building, I've checked myself. And you really think that Arthur would let one of his cufflinks just fall off and not pick it up?! He's a gentleman! He'd rather be caught dead than be missing a cufflink! You didn't see how Russia looked at him after the meeting, France. Hell, I shouldn't have left him alone."

Alfred gritted his teeth as he swung himself into the car. "I'm going there to kill that bastard. That fucking son of a bit-"

"AMERICA!"

France's voice came over so forcefully that Alfred paused just for a moment to breathe. In and out. In and out. Take it slow. He shook his head, and realized he had gripped the inside of the car door so hard, the inside handle was nothing but crushed metal. He cursed and pulled the door shut anyway.

"…Yeah." He murmured into the phone to let France know he was still there.

"For now, let's say that you are right. That Russia does indeed have him for some nefarious purpose."

"He does, fuck it!"

France ignored Alfred's mutterings. "Now…to find our precious L'Angleterre, who could be anywhere…what do you have in mind?"

"…Just call anyone. Everyone. Anyone who can help. I'll call Mattie though, leave him to me. But then meet at Arthur's place. Is that alright?"

"Understood, L'Amerique. And…L'Amerique?"

Alfred leaned back in his seat and sighed. "What?"

"Don't do anything until you know more…I'm sure he's fine."

"Like I could believe that." He ground out through gritted teeth.

With that, Alfred hit 'end call'. He opened his clenched fist to glance at the silver cufflink, glinting in the sunlight hitting the car window. Alfred muttered another curse, and placed the cufflink into the lining of his jacket.

The car roared to life a second later, and Alfred tore out of the parking lot, a lead foot slammed onto the gas. Not even speed limits could possibly have any hold on him now.

Some time later, Alfred skidded into the driveway of Matthew's house. Kicking the door open, he marched up to the house and resisted the urge to just slam the door open and let himself in. It took all his self-control to just simply ring the doorbell and wait like a normal person who hadn't just realized his brother had been kidnapped on his own watch and was now with the most dangerous person in the world at the moment and could be hurt, or worse-

His stream of thoughts were interrupted by Matthew's innocuous opening of the door.

His twin smiled. "Alfred! I was wondering when you would get here." He said quietly. He held up his mug. "Want some? Maple syrup."

Alfred looked at him and said simply, "Come on."

Matthew took a sip, confused.

"What are you on about? Come where?"

"Artie's place."

"I still don't understand, Al…"

Alfred brushed past Matthew into the house, flinging himself onto the couch. He would do anything right now to relieve at least some of this tension. Pacing didn't seem to work, so he didn't even try.

Matthew coughed uncomfortably into his syrup. He stared at his brother as he shut the door silently.

"Alfred, what's going on? Why Arthur's place?"

"Because he's fucking missing. And in danger. And we need to find him. Russia. Russia has him. Arthur needs help." Alfred seemed mentally capable of only short sentences at the pace his brain was running. He turned on the sofa restlessly, unable to sit still.

"What? Al, you're joking. I'm sure he's somewhere-"

"I don't joke about this, Mattie!" Alfred stood up violently, yelling at the top of his lungs. Matthew grew quiet and looked down into his syrup, and Alfred, anger deflated a little, slumped back into the sofa rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Sorry." Alfred offered in ways of apology for his being out of line. Matthew nodded.

Silence reigned the room: Matthew staring, his syrup forgotten in the complications that had arisen today. It was clear that Alfred wasn't about to elaborate any more, or else he really would just jump off the sofa and rush head-first into Russia's country.

Though he had his doubts, Matthew finally stood up, draining the last of syrup. Al just looked at him, his expression unreadable.

"Well then, eh?" Mattie smiled slightly and set down his mug. "Shouldn't we be off then?"

Alfred stared at him a beat, and then finally got the message. He shook his head, and grinned. Before Matthew could do anything else, he found himself wrapped up in a crushing American hug. Alfred let out a bitter, but thankful chuckle.

"Yeah…yeah, we better hit the road."

He released Matthew, and dug into his pocket for his keys as he practically ran to the front door. Matthew followed slowly, still a bit unconvinced.

"Alfred."

His brother turned to look at him, impatience visible in his eyes. Matthew sighed.

"You do know that he could simply just have gone off on his own? It doesn't have to be Russia, you know."

"No. It's him." Alfred shook his head furiously. Matthew tilted his head.

"How do you know?"

Alfred shut his mouth, but the certainty in his eyes shone through. He didn't say anything though, because he didn't have an answer yet.

Author's Comments:

I actually had to split the original Chapter 2 of "Icy Darkness" into two parts for this. I just wrote so much on this part, and then a good 1,500 more words on the second part that I just felt I had enough for two separate chapters.

Expect some good ArthurWhump! in the next chapter if you are reading this for the first time!

Please review, if you would be so kind. For this story in particular. Since this is my first re-write, I find feedback is immensely helpful in this case.

Thank you again!

-Fang