A/N: Such a long chapter! At least I did it before the school week started again. ^o^ No one would have seen it until next Saturday if I hadn't had finished it today.

Chapter 3

The initial shock of what had happened right before his eyes in such a short space of time had taken almost half an hour to finally relinquish its hold over Ludwig. Feliciano, however, had faired much better as he fussed and fretted. Ludwig felt that he would have much preferred to have taken the whole event like Feliciano had rather than feel the detachment that he now felt.

Feliciano had broken away from his side and retrieved Alfred's now broken glasses from the ground and looked, as Ludwig noticed, as though he was about to cry once more. To Ludwig's amazement though, he didn't.

Much to his surprise, Feliciano started trying to mend them.

It took Ludwig a while to finally understand the Italian's strange actions. Alfred could see without them, not too well, but enough to get by. It wasn't like they were the most vital necessity that needed attending to immediately. Moreover, he didn't have anything to fix them with.

When he finally saw the motive, he felt racked with guilt for not understanding sooner.

Moving silently, he walked to Feliciano and gently took the glasses from him. Feliciano's eyes fell to the floor, his hands feeling suddenly empty. Ludwig glanced at the glasses before depositing them in his pocket. He would let Alfred decide what to do with them – they were his after all.

Ludwig pulled Feliciano to him and held him tight, placing a small kiss on top of his forehead. Sighing, Ludwig kept him close, but his eyes were scanning the area for any weaknesses to the cell.

~*~*~

There were buckets filled to the rim with ice cold water that lined the floor up against the tiled wall. A pair of gloved hands retrieved one and, raising it high, emptied the contents over Arthur's head. Arthur gasped, a primitive fear of drowning tearing at him. Tied down to the table, Arthur struggled against his bonds in a blind panic to the point where his wrists and ankles were bleeding profusely.

Another bucket of water was tipped over him, causing him to desperately gasp for air again, his emerald eyes shining with terror. A wet cloth was then thrust in his mouth before yet more water was tipped over him. Blind terror took over and he began to try to scream, his throat becoming raw with the effort but little, strangulated sounds were the only things to be heard.

This systematically continued before the buckets of water ran out. Arthur was trembling as they removed the wet cloth from in his mouth. They left him tied to the table as they disappeared out of the room to acquire the next piece of torture equipment. Arthur watched them through heavy, half closed eye as they left before drifting into a blissful, black abyss.

~*~*~

Alfred began to stir as he came around. His hands rose to his eyes to rub them subconsciously as he rolled onto his side, suddenly curious about his absent glasses. The world before him was blurred, but he could make out the figures of the German and the Italian.

"Where's Arthur?" He groaned as he couldn't make out the figure of the Englishman.

"They took him". Feliciano told him.

"What?" Alfred asked as he sat up, brushing a hand through his hair, his nose feeling far too delicate to touch as of that time.

"They took him". Ludwig replied. "Just after Arthur punched you".

"I thought they were going to take you". Feliciano said, not realising that Ludwig had paled slightly. "The way they kept looking at you over Arthur's shoulder. I could have sworn it was you they wanted!"

Alfred felt like someone had placed a led brick in his stomach and a clamp on his heart. Up till those comments, he was ready to punch Arthur back. He had at first felt confused. Arthur, not even in the height of temper, had ever struck him. Feliciano though had unwittingly told him the reason for the sudden change in Arthur's values.

He had been protecting him.

"Stupid! Stupid!" Alfred chuntered to himself as he rose himself up from the ground. "God damn you Arthur!"

Feliciano furrowed his eyebrows, confused. "Huh?"

"Arthur knocked Alfred out so that they would take him in place of Alfred because what fun could gained from someone who's unconscious? They can't scream". Ludwig told Feliciano, causing the Italian to go far too pale.

"Thank you for being that blunt". Alfred spat.

"Sorry". Ludwig apologized for his tactless answer. "Oh. These are yours". He retrieved the American's broken glasses from his pocket and handed them to him. Alfred sighed, realising that they were the equivalent of useless. He discarded them to the far corner in frustration before sitting back down, his back against the wall. He sighed before he spoke.

"Any weak points, Ludwig?" He asked.

"The typical one … the exit". Ludwig replied. "I've tried all the bars and bricks for lose ones".

Alfred shook his head in frustration.

"We need to come up with a plan of escape".

~*~*~

Arthur awoke, his head resting on one side and his eyes still heavy. A small, questioning noise escaped his lips as his eyes focused on the blue eyes of the man knelt next to him.

"Alfred?" He whispered.

There was no reply with the exception of a hand brushing through his hair. Suddenly, the hand gripped his hair and pulled his head violently back, nearly tear his hair out. Arthur let out a gasp of pain but no more.

He felt a strange detachment as he waited for the next round of torture to commence. Nearly everything he felt within him was strangely relaxed, peaceful and tranquil. There was fear, but he had relented himself to what was happening; a strange detachment had taken over.

He found his chin in a vice like grip and his head yanked to one side, his green eyes meeting black ones. He tried to turn his head in the direction of his right hand. The bond on his right wrist had been loosened a little, though not enough to get his hand through, and his fingers we're being parted and held tightly.

A cruel, twisted smirk spread across his captors face before blinding pain coursed through his body once more. A metal strip had been crudely shoved beneath his nail and an electric current passed through it. Arthur cried out in agony, trying instinctively to pull his hand away from them, but couldn't.

His back arched as they shoved the metal strip beneath the next finger nail and turned on the current again, this time a bit higher.

The only thing that Arthur could think of between the electric current and the pain was Alfred.

~*~*~

Alfred's hero complex had taken a huge impact. He no longer jumped to the conclusion that everyone was going to be his support while he was going to be the ultimate hero. It wasn't that he felt he would fail; it was the sudden realisation that a hero wasn't a hero without those he had around to help and support him.

The best plan that they could come up with between them was to jump the captors when they entered the cell. That left a few fundamental problems, the most important being that the captors were all armed and ready to fire on them. They had already taken precautions against such an escape attempted. Another fundamental flaw was that they had no idea concerning the lay out of where they were. Were they in an abandoned building? Bunker? (An underground bunker making Alfred skittish thinking there were ghosts around of those previously stationed there). Were they in the countryside or an industrial complex abandoned for some reason? None of them had any ideas. Even if they could escape – where would they go?

"You do realise that when the time comes, that if we have no answers, we will have to take our chances?" Ludwig said matter of factly to Alfred.

"I know". Alfred nodded, his hero complex sparking back up again as his mind sorted through all the potential possibilities that laid before him. Alfred being Alfred though, some were not even worth thinking about. Needless to say, one involved a super hero. "We're all leaving together; Arthur included". Alfred made clear. Even if he had to hunt for him through what could be a labyrinth of corridors, they were all leaving together.

"Agreed". Ludwig nodded. Feliciano sat down close to Ludwig, looking tired and depleted of energy. He rested his head on Ludwig's shoulder and closed his eyes. Alfred watched the two interact closely. He shook his head, dismissing his conclusion as impossible. Ludwig noticed.

"Yes?"

"Nothing". Alfred shrugged.

"Hardly". Ludwig shot back.

"Just thought you both act like a couple". Alfred again shrugged.

"We are". Feliciano smiled, pressing himself against Ludwig side, his arms wrapped around his neck.

Alfred was stunned. "R – r – really?"

"Yeah". Feliciano replied, looking much closer to his usual self again as he pecked Ludwig on the cheek.

"We just didn't feel the need to make our relationship public". Ludwig informed gruffly.

"Well – congratulations!" Alfred beamed. In the back of his mind though he questioned if he and Arthur could ever be the same.

~*~*~

"Aaarrtthhhuuurr!"

Arthur looked over the top of his book to see a young America looking up at him, his blue eyes wide and questioning.

"What's the matter Alfred?" Arthur asked concerned as he recognised the sparkle in Alfred's eyes that usually meant that he had been, or was about to, cry.

"Arthur? … What's death like?" Alfred asked quietly. Arthur was stunned that such a young nation like America could even be thinking of such things, let alone being concerned about them. Alfred climbed onto the sofa next to Arthur and crawled onto his lap, hugging him tightly. "I don't want to die Arthur. It will be cold, dark and lonely, I just know it!"

Arthur blushed with Alfred clinging to him for comfort. He had never been the one people generally turned to for comfort, he was generally the last. This was unexplored ground. As he sat thinking what to say in answer to Alfred's question, he felt Alfred's tears soaking through his shirt. He stopped thinking and instead let instinct take over. He wrapped Alfred up in his arms tightly and wiped the tears away with his thumb from the younger nations cheek. "Who told you of such things?" Arthur asked thinking that if it was France he was going to have to pay him a friendly little visit.

Sniffling, Alfred rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands. "I over heard you talking about it with France".

Arthur was horrified that Alfred was upset over something he said. At least if it was France in isolation it would have been easier to sort out. He couldn't punish France; he remembered clearly that he was the one to bring up the subject.

Pulling Alfred back into a tight embrace, he whispered; "do not concern yourself with such things Alfred". He sensed that that wasn't going to suffice, so before Alfred could disagree with him, he carried on speaking. "You won't be alone either".

"Really?" Alfred asked with glassy red eyes.

"Nope". Arthur smiled at him. "I'll be there". Alfred seemed to brighten with the concept that he wouldn't be alone. Just to add a bit of humour, Arthur added the one off comment that he would never repeat, but instead get incredibly defensive over in the future. "And you won't have to eat any of my cooking".

Alfred laughed before damaging Arthur's legs by jumping up to his knees and wrapping his arms around his neck. "Thanks Arthur!" Arthur was stunned by the sudden reaction but melted and once more wrapped his arms around America, smiling. "As long as your not scared, I'm not".

Arthur's eyes flickered open as the dark shadows were once more back in the room, circling the table. The image of the young, dependent Alfred who always ran to him for help was imprinted on the inside of his eyelids. Every time he blinked he saw him.

As he waited to see what new hell they had brought for him, he felt relieved that, to his knowledge, Alfred was still safe.

Arthur had lost track of time completely as the finally released him from his bonds. He was shoved to the floor where he didn't have the energy to move or to attempt to pick himself up. He felt rough hands grip him and drag him back to his feet, his arms shoved through the sleeves of his shirt and jacket which were to remain unbuttoned.

Arthur didn't dare think to himself that it was over. Perhaps this was another trick. Something to get his hopes up so they could dash them again. As they dragged him back towards the cell to be reunited with the others, he expected any moment for them to turn on him and to beat him within an inch of his life.

The never did.

He only realised that he was back with Alfred, Ludwig and Feliciano again when he heard horrified gasps and 'steady' said by Ludwig to Feliciano. Arthur suddenly found a little strength to make his legs hold his weight as the men stopped supporting him and left, laughing and jesting to one another, pleased with their work, but a little put out that Arthur had not fallen to his knees in defeat. They were disappointed so much that one retraced his steps and struck Arthur's shoulder hard, causing a blinding light of pain behind Arthur's eyes, causing him to fall to his knees.

The laughter and cackling of the men as the left made Alfred shiver. Arthur listened for their laughter to fade before he got his feet back underneath him again and stood up as straight as his energy and body would let him.

Arthur's emerald green, but now dull eyes met Alfred's stunning blue ones as they stared at one another. Arthur's head was slightly angled down and his shoulders hunched, his arms dangling by his sides. It took too much energy, energy he didn't have, to stand up straight and proud again. Every time he moved one of his limbs, a feeling of faintness washed over him, everything going momentarily black.

Feliciano was held back by Ludwig as he attempted to move forward and see if Arthur was okay. Alfred didn't notice the little scuffle behind him, he was too horrified at Arthur's appearance to take his eyes of him. Arthur swayed on his feet. Alfred watched him as closely as his vision would allow him without giving himself a blinding headache.

"Watch him!" Ludwig shouted, alarmed.

Alfred, stunned but acting purely on instincts, caught Arthur just as his knees gave way and gently lowered him to the ground. Arthur wound up sat in his lap, his head propped up by Alfred's shoulder.

"Arthur! Arthur!" Alfred kept repeating his name as his fingers went through his still damp hair before resting the palm of his hand on Arthur's cool cheek. Arthur bit his lip hard as he tried not to cry. He could feel his eyes filling with tears and every time he blinked they threatened to over spill. Alfred placed his fingers under his chin and tilted his head up so he could see his face. Arthur had bitten his lip hard enough to draw blood, so when Alfred saw Arthur's blood stained lips and teeth, he felt his heart lurch with pain and anger.

Alfred shrugged off his jacket and, using the cuff of his shirt, wiped away the crimson blood. Arthur exhaled unsteadily as he watched Alfred tend to him. He never imagined Alfred could tend to him so … tenderly. He had always imagined that he would be something of a clumsy nurse, accidentally hurting him despite trying to help. Arthur found himself admitting to himself that he had been wrong.

Alfred quickly got rid of Arthur's unbuttoned jacket and shirt before placing his jacket around Arthur's shoulders. Arthur had to fight another wave of tears because of Alfred's tender actions towards him. He loved this jacket, and to wrap it around him while he as still wet was something he never expected.

"What did they do to you?" Alfred asked, his eyes wide as he kept discovering new and more vicious looking marks and wounds. He was horrified to think that they would scar, that they would blemish his beautifully soft, Caucasian skin. His old scars were faded; these were going to be striking to the eye for a long while to come. Alfred's fingers hovered above the wounds, not daring to touch them. "Arthur?"

Arthur remained silent. He knew if he tried to speak, he would either break down or lie, and Alfred would be able to see though his lies this time, the evidence marking his body was clear enough for anyone to see. Alfred took the silence as an admission of being the subject of torture, the receiver of a brutal, and physical violence. He brought Arthur's hand up and studied his fingers. He could tell by the hiss that Arthur gave that they were indeed painful to the touch. To his horror though, he noticed that his finger nails had been subjected to something that wasn't a manicure as they had clearly had something forced beneath them. Also, two of Arthur's fingers were dislocated. Alfred felt that he knew what he had to do and so he steadied himself to do it. He had seen enough films to know this worked … hopefully.

Arthur gasped and swallowed hard as Alfred's hands encased his own. Feliciano stood back, eyes wide with horror and having to have Ludwig support him. As Alfred applied pressure to force the fingers back into their correct place, a cracking sound was emitted. Arthur cried out in pain and Alfred fought back doubt that he was doing more harm than good. Feliciano swayed and Ludwig steadied him with a hand to the shoulder, every so often squeezing it to let Feliciano know he was still there.

When the final crack had sounded and Alfred released Arthur's hand, Arthur let a single tear glide down his cheek. Alfred didn't notice though as Arthur pressed his cheek against Alfred's shirt, allowing the pain pass.

"Thank you". He whispered, his eyes becoming heavy again. His voice sounded forced and his raw throat pained him greatly.

"What happened?" Alfred asked quietly, but feeling a raging fire growing inside of him. Who ever did this to Arthur was going to pay.

"You're okay, that's all that matters. You're okay". Arthur mumbled the last part over and over to himself as his eyes closed. "You're okay".

Alfred listened to Arthur mutterings. He felt Arthur go limp in his arms, and protectively, he tightened his embrace, trying to give Arthur as much security as possible.

"You protected me". America mumbled to himself, but Feliciano and Ludwig, who had witnessed everything, over heard. "Even now, after everything I did to you, after all the times I taunted you, tease you about your cooking … even after the war of Independence … you still protects me, placing yourself directly in the way of danger so to deflect it from me. Oh Arthur ..." Alfred buried his face into Arthur's neck and shoulder. Ludwig could see he wasn't crying, but instead an intense look of craving for vengeance was present.

He watched as Alfred continued to brush a hand through Arthur's hair, his eyes conveying his emotions; from anger to sorrow, to fear to hatred to love.

God help the men who did that to Arthur, Ludwig thought to himself. God help them.

TBC...

A/N: Anyone who has watched King Arthur will know where I got the dislocated fingers scene from. I have been dying to use that scene in my work for years! I can't die happy just yet; I have the drowning scene in the Abyss to include somehow before I can do that! ^o^