I promised you I'd make it up to you guys and ah! You have been absolutely wonderful UwU
the reviews and popularity of this are actually making me smile a whole lot and I could kiss most of you for how generous you've been!
I hope you have had an incredible week and I'll see you guys in another few days feel free to write a comment and I'll make sure to reply to it as soon as I can

Butterfly Caught - Massive Attack

The last he'd seen Mathias had only been a couple of hours ago and just before he sat himself down for a meal made purely of whatever fruit was left in the fridge the Dane shuffled through looking exhausted and the bags under his eyes unbelievably noticeable. Lars acknowledged his presence with a welcoming nod and continued on scraping the remnants of his barely meal onto his fork, comfort food he told himself to make up for the days he'd been worried sick enough to the point of hardly ever eating. Eventually the burden of anxiety and an unexplainable sadness had weighed itself down on him and he'd ransacked the cupboards and freezer for something to smother the tight feeling in his chest. Now more than ever was he pleased to have something to occupy his mouth rather than the words that threatened to pour from him in the form of accusations.

He'd spent most of the day going through the thin sheets of paper with blurred photos of the Dane to try and see if they held any explanation to his behaviour and all he got from them was the same empty eyes and lazy smile that he'd seen in the family photo. However each photo that progressed up until before he ran away the first time from the boys home had become more sinister, as if he were hiding something. The single photo found after he was brought back held an expression more similar to how the Mathias now. However the version of him now had left purple bruising on his neck in a flash of violence and caused him to jump when Mathias sat down beside him, unscrewing a bottle of something that smelt too overpowering to be something allowed to be downed straight and yet that was exactly what the other had done. His lips around the opening he dragged from the bottle, wincing as he did so and Lars tried to tell himself he wasn't watching from the corner of his eye in mixed worry and awe.

Once it was put back down and Mathias' hand was clamped around his mouth to stop himself from spitting it back out did he relax again and continue eating nonchalantly and patiently waited for Mathias say something. Before the words came out of his mouth he knew he'd forgive him no matter what he said.

Love sucked.

"I confuse you and mess with your head yet you don't push me away or yell at me." The Dane said once he'd got his bearings and had his head pressed against the back of the sofa. "I admire that. Your composure, though it's not fair is it? You've dealt with more of my shit than anybody else and everyday I act heartless. And I..." Mathias eyed up his bared neck and very quickly turned his gaze elsewhere. "I'm so sorry."

He would yell at him and scream the city down to rubble if he wasn't kept in the dark about how Mathias would reciprocate the actions he wished to express but did not. Returning his gaze in front of him he put his plate down and held his head in his hands, elbows pressed to his knees and he sighed into them.

"I don't understand it myself Mathias. I really don't." His voice sounded too quiet for his liking but biting back the urge to repeat it louder he continued on. "I just wish you'd tell me something for once. Lukas was right I know nothing."

"You talked to him."

"I thought you would have known."

"I guessed that you might have." He went for the bottle again. "What did he tell you?"

"Nothing more than what I already put together plus a little extra about your relationship with him in the beginning."

"He can be inventive when he's aiming for something." The cap was cracked off and he dragged down a lot more than before. Lars caught his arm as soon as Mathias began to drink more and more deeply as if he were trying to empty the bottle.

"Don't." He dragged his fingers around the neck of the glass and pulled it away from him and beside his half eaten plate. "Not tonight I'm not babying you tonight."

"I lasted years without somebody babying me Lars, I don't..." Mathias sighed and slumped forward, his arms hanging limply at his sides and one of which the Dutchman chose to take in his own hands. "I don't need to be treated like a child."

With a gentle tug Mathias was lying on his lap and Lars kept his hold on his arm tight until he'd relaxed some. His free hand immediately found it's way into the light strands that fell across his forehead, and even as the Dane looked up at him questionably Lars had shook his head and silently shushed him. This would have to do as some middle ground for now, an apology or a compromise he didn't care but he'd been starved of little moments like these for a little longer than he preferred.

Lars rolled up the sleeve that was pulled down past the Dane's wrist and without asking for permission turned his arm to the pale forearm that was decorated in intricate tattooing that reached the elbows. Beneath it all and pressing his fingertips to the shapes of cigarette burns and ghostly white cross hatching of thin lines he tried to find a pulse point. It was unsettling at first to feel the sluggish thrumming under the pressure of his fingers, the tenuous muscular throbbing that stuttered and seemingly nervous as Mathias tensed up. He didn't need to be treated as if he were only a younger child, he needed a support however if the lines that followed some of the tattoos and others that weren't covered and contrasted clearly against the pure black suggested anything.

"Stop idolising them they're disgusting." Mathias' tone was bitter however he made no move to pull it away.

"I'm not idolising something I'm ashamed to have as well. I'm in awe of the fact you're still here despite it all." Lars tightened his faint smile till his lips were worn thin. "You're fucked in the head and probably one of the worst sufferers of a personality disorder I've come across. Your ideas of self medication are destructive and you lash out without thinking but it doesn't seem to be something you can control easily. I don't know a single fucking thing about what you've been through so I can't judge you. Mathias...even if you're scarred and got a war going on in that head. I'm not going to give up on trying to help."

When he felt the other starting to pull away in what he suspected to be shame he pulled the wrist to his lips just over the thickest evidence of his struggles like he was sealing his words with a promise over a battle ground and cupped his hand over the back of Mathias'. Briefly he noticed the remainders of what appeared to be glittery black nail polish around the edges where skin met nail and red still coated one thumb. The ends of his fingers grazed raw skin that was uselessly covered in pathetically placed bandages that probably only covered the worst of the damage.

"What did you hit?" He said quietly as he let go to investigate the wounds. Gravel still stuck to edges of barely scabbed skin and flaying edges of the plasters.

"Fucked up my hand punching a wall nothing spectacular." Came the distance reply, Mathias rolled over to pressed his face against the other's stomach and he took his arm back, his words carving into Lars' gut. "Burst of frustration it's alright it'll heal."

Lars was fully aware of that however still with two fingers pressed against the compulsive tapping of the Dane's heart under thin skin and heavy marking in a reminder of I'm here, I'm here, I'm alive. He wasn't entirely sure if everything did.

xxx

When the afternoon sun began to warm the wooden flooring did Lars chose to slip out from under the daydreaming blonde that had taken purchase on his lap and went to look for clean bandages and rubbing alcohol. His feet kissed the ground as it warmed and cooled in some places and trying to hold himself the shock of being over aware of the dramatic and strange changes in the temperature he curled his toes under his feet and searched just a little faster.

Back sitting in front of the Dane he worked quietly under the watchful and silent gaze however glazed over. Whatever it was that was running through the other's head left him in a state that was unable to argue with the care and left Lars to his own thoughts. His thoughts that were constantly haunted with the other's name face voice and smell, and Lars ticked through the boxes of infestation, oppression and eventual possession that had created the extra little ponderings at the back of his head. It was aggravating and addictive in the way a masochist found and craved pain. As he was about to get up to dispose of the filthy bandages did the other finally move with a small smile on his face, one of those chilling ones that held an underlying message and was powerful enough no matter how faint to keep him rooted to the spot. It was one that changed from the message to another the more studious he grew and he could swear he could even taste the mirth on the tip of his tongue when the light glinted just so across those thin lips and cut off his earlier need to learn about the curious blonde. The smile that reminded him that even if he didn't understand the Dane, perhaps that was the other's aim all along.
To remain a painfully obvious mystery.

"Do you ever get angry about not being able to fly?" Mathias practically whispered. Lars settled himself down for another philosophical twist to his counterpart's words. "It's disappointing to not stretch out your arms and just...vault into the air. Just shrug off the weight of life and everything and just soar into the air."

"Would the air be your wings Mathias?" He decided to entertain the other for a few moments and entertain his need for the intense heat coming off the blonde's skin.

"Nej...that's too predictable. It'd be desires...dreams...wishes the unfulfilled desires. It'd be more magical that way." Mathias sighed and rolled over to wrap his arms tight around Lars' waist. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have lashed out at you none of this is your fault."

"What is to blame then?"

"It's something I started myself. Don't worry about it but...it'll all be alright soon there's just a few more things to do before it's alright." He paused, sucking in a sharp breath. "By the way...What time is it?" The Dane's voice cracked and broke within that short sentence in a way that clawed painfully at Lars' heartstrings. A pathetic attempt at a change of subject it seemed. Sighing he slipped back under Mathias with his head cradled on his lap.

"It's nearly four why?"

The other shot up and nearly stumbled over his feet trying to untangle himself from the makeshift jacket blanket. Much more calmly and co-ordinated Lars followed after the cursing blonde.

"Once again. Why?"

"Fuck, shit fuck fuck fuck fuck. Party social event thing disgusting but I've got to go fuck fuck fuck." He watched from the door as Mathias disappeared into his wardrobe and came back out with numerous ties, suits, shirts and shoes piled up in his arms only to be dumped on the bed. "I can't be late to this again crap fuck UUGH."

The whine that came from the frantic Dane was comical, he looked seconds away from pulling his hair out of his skull in frustration and when his hands went to tangle in the messy gold locks Lars had to be the one to untangle them and laugh quietly as the other looked up at him in confusion.

"You don't usually go to these sort of things do you?"

"If it's out of the country I usually do but ah..." Mathias continued trying to gel his hair against his head. "I've got keep up appearances. I haven't been 'around' lately."

"...Oh." He let go and studied over the mountain of fabric. "Go for the white trim."

Mathias gave him a grateful smile and nodded, completely by passing a silk shirt the same shade as his eyes for a crimson red and disappeared for a few moments. He came back out hopping with one shoe on and still fighting with the other and Lars shook his head as even though the other was obviously not ready for whatever this was he still managed to look damn good in a state of panic. Wordlessly he found himself with a suit of his own in his hands, the handle digging painfully into his palms and he stared the Dane down who had sat himself self legged on the ground with a knee bending in a way a knee shouldn't be bent while he did up his laces.

"What's this."

"Your suit get ready you're coming with me."

"Who said?"

"I did and last time I checked I'm higher up the social classes than you and you're going to fucking listen to me or so help me I am not calling Natalia again on such short notice."

"Who's Natalia?"

"Ex girlfriend and when i say ex I mean ex ex ex since I was like 17 now hurry the fuck up we don't have all night." Mathias got to his feet and practically ran to the bathroom, a comb clawing it's way through his hair in the process. By the time Lars had caught up the blonde was struggling with flattening his hair into a comb over and creating a perfect bow tie simultaneously. The glare that was shot in his direction when he didn't make a move to follow through with what sounded more like an order than an invitation shot ice through his bones and numbly he went to get changed, confused by the sudden charge of fear that spread tendrils through his veins.

Maybe he was reminded of the Dane's authority but nonetheless he changed quickly and made a half ass attempted with his hair. The suit inverted to Mathias' black trim on a white whereas Mathias' was white trim on black. When he was standing out front of the penthouse complex with the Dane jittering on the spot with a backpack in his hands did he receive a nod of approval from him and a warm hand pressed against the deep navy of his inner shirt right over the beating of his own heart and he could of sworn it stopped for a few seconds that felt like an eternity when cool lips pressed against his cheek and a smile along with it.

xxx

Lars tried not laugh when he was spun inside, the Dane much too enthusiastic for such a formal setting. People in various coloured suits eyed them up irritably and some of them even showing immediate fawning over the blonde who was clutching onto his hand and later his upper arm. The variety of people didn't show, all of them polished and stiff some of them with obvious affection and jealousy talking to Mathias or glancing in the brunette's direction who stared them down just as levelly until their gaze wandered elsewhere. In most cases Lars would have appreciated his counterpart's charisma but for the time being it struck a nerve when people were much too comfortable swanning up to him.

Eventually a much too touchy girl in an over exposing dress and an artfully styled bun of brown hair whispered into Mathias' ear and had him apologising profusely to the Dutchman as he tore away to a table that held more straight backed men and woman and some faces remained entirely familiar like the tall and stoic faced Swede who Mathias took a seat next to and quickly struck conversation with. The heavy smell of the woman's perfume who the Dane had warmly called Elizabeta lingered for a few minutes longer with Mathias' cologne before it left Lars altogether watching on confused.

Mathias sat beside the taller Swede with a bright smile a musical laugh and a comfortable hand resting on the glassy eyed male's shoulder. He didn't have his glasses on tonight Lars noted, must have been contacts. A few camera clicks had Lars thinking those photos would end up in some paper or somewhere online in the next few hours but if the other two noticed they paid it no mind. However when the Dane leaned across with an arm resting across the other's shoulders and another hand looking as if it were slipping under the table to clutch at his knee to whisper something into Berwald's ear did Lars start to feel a mild and irrational irritation at the whole set up.

That should be him.

Digging his nails into his palm he moved as far away as he couple from the pair and swiped a couple of glassed of wine for himself on the way, blatantly ignoring the stares he received.

He tried not to pay the man no mind who sidled up to his side, non-nonchalantly sipping from a glass of champagne and trying to get his attention with a loud cough. Eventually when the other realised Lars would say nothing the smaller male shook his head irritably and began a one sided conversation.

"How did it feel spinning in the Devil's grip?" Lukas said around the curve of a champagne glass. His thin fingers wrapped around the delicate stem in a way that suggested he was no more happy with the set up than Lars was. However he knew for a fact the Norwegian would fit much better into the grouping than the Dutchman would have. He simply shrugged and pulled a seat up for himself, his chest pressed against the back of the chair and his arms hooked around the back of the wood with each of his own glasses in each hand.

He felt the Norwegian's glare rather than saw it as he remained silent. "I've been looking into everything a little more around our Danish acquaintance." Lars' eye twitched at the last word and his grip tightened around the neck of his glass but he made no effort to say a word. "Strangely enough there's no personal records, no birth certificate, graduation forms, anything about him being the army nothing. So it got me thinking further. What exactly is he involved in..."

"Perhaps they prefer the broken ones, they would easier to...remake and manipulate I guess. And it's clear that Mathias is anything but put together. It's unfortunate that whatever they're doing they can't do it to affectively remove whatever is going on in their heads. It appears his...mental state is being exploited from how downhill he's gotten as of late. Compromised as such." Lukas sighed and continued to examine his nails. "Whatever information is on Mathias is lost or not recorded. Eduard couldn't find a single thing on him anywhere. Despite what's in the media he may as well be dead."

He sighed and swirled the last of his wine around in the bottom of his glass and frowned down. A heavy weight setting in his stomach and chest. "And you're telling me this...?"

"What I'm trying to say is that whatever he's involved with is obviously not something you should let yourself get sucked into. I'm going to leave before he notices me conversing with you but..." His sharp stare was enough of a warning. "This is something big enough that even I don't know about it and I've know him a fuck load longer than you have. Do not. Get attached."

"Yes sir." He said sardonically. "What else do you know."

"He's potentially hostile and indefinitely dangerous. I know he spends his time dosed up on something consistently and I know he's taken a liking to a partially unfortunate excuse for a human being that goes by the name of Lars Peeters."

"I think my 'date' is finished with his business you better go."

"I was just about to." Lukas said stiffly and disappeared into the crowd.

By finished he thought that the blonde would end up coming up to him but in the end he watched him slip away with the noticeably tipsy brunette who was much more touchy feely than before for Lars' liking and getting a lid on his anger he ended up outside with a bottle of half empty wine to replace the glasses and was thankful for the fresh air. Fuck this he thought, a bunch of rich assholes getting fucked in more than one sense of the word was too much for him to really want to deal with. And he was stupid enough to think that the night would be pleasantly spent at Mathias' side but rather he stayed on the sidelines watching him sift from person to person as he so pleased.

Resting his arms over the railing and pressing his head against the cool metal he appreciated the harsh wind that blew through his half assed attempt at a tamed hairstyle and effectively began to clear his head a bit more.

However he couldn't find himself resenting the moment or the setting, in the past year he'd known the Dane no matter how infrequent he was around it felt as if he'd been given a jolt of awareness as to what life really could be. Feeling free to do as you pleased and having the resources, the connections to do so. How the years that had ticked by were more than a dress rehearsal and preparation to an inevitable end and how it was less of an ongoing game of survival of the fittest, less of chapters within a secondly written book to be retold later but more of the paragraphs and inspirations that were written between the lines. The beautiful and nerve wrecking little nothings that hid behind the lines. The people. The scenery. The hidden musical notes that came with the slightest noise.

It was silly and aberrant that Mathias was the one to bring him to the realisation after so many years of simply going through the notions. Mathias who refused the notions and logic that created life and rather created his own as he so wished so it fitted his own wants until the unfathomable abyss of the other side would sweep either of them away with the tide. But the Dane seemed to be arrogant to that, the amount of times he'd come back bloody or bruised, smiling and ecstatic, or on the fine line of suicidal or perhaps a mixed mess of it all gave Lars the impression that perhaps maybe some people on this shitty excuse for a planet would be eternal. The after taste of all those nights where their idle minds would hum with Mathias' crazed secret delusions wouldn't simply vaporize when he was plunged into the disastrous and terrifying reality of an end. Those words would be coveted by an universe that did nothing more than simply exist.

Simply exist in the way that Lars thought he simply was until he quite literally stumbled across his Dane. His Dane that ended up stumbling into his back at that moment and tore him away from his semi mid life crisis. He remained thankful that he was prevented yet again by another meltdown simply because of Mathias' very presence.

He turned around and found his arms suddenly around the blonde in an unconscious attempt to keep his slumping form in place.

"Come with me I need to go to the bathroom." Mathias looked fatigued, his body swaying to and fro on the spot.

"Why?"

"I'll explain once we're in there just come...and help me to the fucking bathroom. And I'd be really grateful...if you got me there within fifteen." The other didn't swear all that often and the emphasis on the word had him nodding jerkily and pulling him back inside with an arm supporting him around his shoulders. They shuffled around the outskirts of the crowd, keeping close to the walls and after he'd managed to get him to the bathroom he could have sworn the Dane had passed out.

Despite the way he allowed himself to be man handled he could still hold his own to some degree and he hung his head over the sink after mumbling a thank you, two fingers forced down his throat until he gagged up whatever he'd had to drink or eat through the night. Lars turned away as Mathias did whatever he needed to do and had to fight with his own gag reflex to not end up in the same state, for the second time in his life he was watching the blonde throw up in an intoxicated mess and he really, really didn't want to be the one to clean him up again. Not with Lukas' earlier words still plaguing and embedding themselves into every corner of his brain.

"Somebody slipped...something into my drink." And sure enough along with the sour smelling fluids were half dissolved pills. "Fuck..."

"Rophenol?"

"I don't know and I don't care." He ran the tap to wash down the contents of his stomach and tried to fix his hair in the mirror. "I look like a mess."

"You look fine."

"Bullshit." He wiped the back of his hand across his lips in disgust before thoroughly washing it, a scowl fixating itself on his usually smiling and/or blank features. Popping a handful of mints into his mouth after rinsing it out he spoke around them. "Well that was unpleasant."

"Should we go home or?"

"Not yet may as well rub it in the prick's face that tried to drug me up hm?" He laughed bitterly and curled his hand through the bend of the Dutchman's.

"Is it even a good idea for you to move?" Worriedly he pulled him back through the swinging doors and into the room of thickly scented incense and the crescendo of violins.

"I think I'm good hands. May I have this dance Mr Peeters?"

"Naturally Mr Køhler."

xxx

Lars kept his hand firm on the Dane's waist as they danced, all two left feet and jerky movements he tried to lead Mathias around the floors and all the while his dance partner smiled on in amusement, following his lead a hell of a lot more gracefully. As Mathias moved to rest his head on the other's shoulder, alarms and screams filled the air in a split second and where he froze the Dane simply sighed and pulled away.

"We best get going before everybody starts running out."

"What d-"

"Isn't it obvious, I'll find out tomorrow for somebody. Or it'll be in the papers come on."

Lars found himself being pulled through the crowd in a direction opposite to the way they all ran. Mathias ahead and his grip tight around his fingers until they were outside and blasted with a gust of fresh air. He heard the blonde say something along the lines of it being nicer outside than in before they made quick haste away from the house. He didn't remember the Dane grabbing his bag nor his coat on the way out. They diverted from the road where cars lined the sides of the street and rather took a path around the back that was all overgrown trees and a barely visible path, once deep within the under brush did Mathias stop his near sprint and much to Lars chagrin and confusion began to undress.

"What are you...?"

"Shut up I'm just changing my pants it's nothing you haven't seen before."

Despite that being a true statement Lars looked around in an attempt of giving him some privacy, a hand in his hair and still the chaos from the household could be heard from their little spot. When soft leather clad fingers laced through his did he pay attention to his company instead of the faint light of the mansion behind them and gravel once again crunched under their feet along with the cracking of tree branches and cars and sirens came from the distance, faint in the opposite direction as they walked. Mathias offered him a cigarette which he accepted with shaking hands, lighting theirs under the same flame they continued on. The trees around them were deathly still as was the backdrop of the night sky that showed no sign of cloud or change from what was visible between the filtering of dull green.

"Sorry." Mathias said quietly, his foundation paled face being illuminated by a wash of red from the burning end of his cigarette.

"What for?"

"Being a dick."

"You already apologised."

"And I won't be able to do it enough. I really am sorry."

"Just don't do it again."

"I'll try."

He could have sworn those two words were written into both their skin like an art. They tried to be normal, they tried not to give in to each other's affections, they tried not to pry too much into each other's private lives though it appeared Mathias knew more about Lars than Lars knew about himself. They tried and failed and yet still they had the nerve to repeat it to each other once again. For another night and perhaps another life time. Legitimately 'I'll try' grew branches in each of their veins that choked off any 'I will'.

And there was that smile at the edges of Mathias' lips that birthed a nostalgia Lars gained whenever he saw the despaired artists reconstruction of pain on his thin yet strong form. A child hood memory that was fuzzy around the edges and was becoming something he wished to remember in it's entirety. Longer they walked, the path growing more and more wild from disuse that they were forced to climb over the odd fallen tree trunk or jump over the sudden break in the ruined walkway that was washed out by a natural stream. He found it amusing every time the Dane's lips would turn down in a frown of distaste at the obvious overexposure to nature's elements, or the whine or the huff of resignation when his foot was left drenched by a puddle. He himself would have found it hilarious is he wasn't brewing in his own disgust for nature and the dirt that began to coat the once brilliant white of his suit.

Lars would have kissed Mathias when he said he had a spare change for them both. If it wasn't for the fact that it seemed as if Mathias had expected something like this to happen and even more if it didn't seem like he was the one to cause it. He was lucky the Dane's fingers remained tightly laced through his or he would have given into the crawling feeling along his skin from the decomposing remnants of something that was obviously once cared for.

Their pace picked up considerably when street lights were able to be seen through shrubbery and pushing through they found themselves disorientated on the side of the road where cars raced on by and the sounds coming from the mansion which was however far back was nothing more than faint background noise that one had to strain to pick up. It was clear how filthy they were under the lights and once again Mathias led him to a spot behind a phone box where they quickly changed into spare clothes that had been previously prepared and Lars didn't know whether to be grateful or concerned at how he'd missed his own clothes from his own drawers that ended up in the back pack.

Dry and semi clean Mathias wandered around and took up the shelter of the phone box to which Lars followed suit and stood behind him as he pressed his ear to the receiver, punching in numbers he seemed hesitant to put together for the call. From beside him Lars could hear the drawn out beeping and eventual sound of somebody picking up on the other end. Immediately Mathias talked in a hushed whisper, his voice going a hundred miles an hour until he barely sounded like he was talking English and the single word that held the end of the conversation most likely was not.

Mathias hung up with a click and took to resting back against the glasses doors of the telephone box and the Dutchman chose to follow suit, his legs stretched out in front of him and he watched as Mathias lit another smoke off the butt of his previous one and admired the way the smoke lazily curled in the air above their heads.
"I'm going to introduce you to some old friends. I ah hope you don't mind all too much they're a bit strange."

"What and you're not?"

"Very witty Lars." He pulled from the tube and held the contents of it in his lungs for as long as he could until they started panicking for air. He smiled as smoke filled the enclosed space of glass and cracking paint off plastic."Truth or Dare."

"Huh?"

"Truth or Dare." He repeated.

"Ah Truth."

"Bah you're no fun. Okay where'd you get that scar?" Mathias eyed the top of Lars' forehead with interest.

"I was running with a pair of scissors, not the best idea even if it does seem like bullshit." He shook his head so the strands that had fallen loose from the spikes fell across his forehead. "Truth or Dare.

"Truth." The Dane smiled to himself, the sardonic amusement being directed in Lars' direction when he turned his head.

"Who are you?"

The question seemed to take Mathias off guard and the smile began to quiver at the edges. Through gritted teeth Mathias replied with "I don't even know. Truth or Dare."

"That wasn't an answer."

"Truth or Dare."

"Fine dare."

"Kiss me."