Warning: Swearing

Chapter Nine

It must be some kind of miracle, or maybe they were just plain stupid.

The cell doors of the 'V.I.P Rooms' were made of heavy metal with as many digital locks as there were physical, and considering that between the two cold sheets of metal were a mass of gears and screws and other fancy gadgets, there were a lot of locks.

Opening the door was no easy business, requiring several passwords, codes, identifications, and actual keys, and if it wasn't difficult, it was at the very least loud.

So imagine all their surprise when the door opened very suddenly after several minutes of very loud maneuvering, and lo-and-behold! there stood a guard.

There was that comical one second when both sides – three prisoners and one guard – stared at each other, unsure of what to do. Silence reigned, and Mathias and Lovino exchanged a quick glance. The guard stiffly unfroze from his position just outside the door and stepping into the cell room in jerky, hesitant movements. His entire body was rigid as he turned and gingerly pushed the metal door shut, but did not lock it. He barely stood over Mathias's shoulder, but there was an icy aura around him that shot straight at the two escaped prisoners when the guard spun around to glare at them with intense green eyes. His golden blonde hair was chin-length, framing his face in gentle but scruffy waves, giving him an almost feminine look if not for his militaristic stance and harsh expression.

Once again, there was only silence, and Lovino shifted on his feet, wondering if he should scream, swear, or grab Mathias and get the hell out of here. Maybe all three at once.

And just when he was about to draw in the breath for the loudest F-bomb he had ever dropped, Gilbert Beilschmidt snorted.

Then, he started laughing. He laughed so hard he fell backwards, and the chains pulled taut as his bodyweight yanked against its hold.

"What's so funny?" the guard demanded, voice brash and loud, but there was a pink tint to his cheeks that made him look more like a child about to throw a tantrum.

The albino answered him with more of his strange, throaty chuckles, but then he convulsed once and began coughing, hacking breaths racking through his entire body as an expression of pain flitted over his sallow face.

The guard was on his side immediately, a slight look of panic blowing his eyes wide as he coaxed water from a canteen into Gilbert's mouth and down his throat even while he continued to cough. Water dribbled down his chin and dripped onto his shirt, but neither the prisoner nor the guard cared as Gilbert took a deep breath and then another gulp of water. His coughing began to ease.

Both Lovino and Mathias watched on in silence, curious at the guard's reaction to the well-being of Gilbert. They watched the guard hold the chained prisoner steady, offering him more water, and then – to their amazement – half a McDonald's hamburger. Gilbert sipped at the water first, clearing his throat before pointing a finger at the guard while another hand accepted the burger, a wide grin splitting across his face. "You know what I find so funny?"

The guard huffed, crossing his arms with an expression of annoyance on his fact. "Enlighten me, please."

"Yes, please do," Lovino added.

Gilbert coughed once more to clear his throat before answering with that infuriating grin still in place. "You here," he pointed at Vash "is being all big bad guy to our two visitors, when a week ago, you were going on about the heroes of the Fall."

The guard's – Vash's face flushed once more. "What does that have to do with anything?"

Gilbert shrugged, but his eyebrows were raised in amusement. "What was it that you were telling me again…? Right, the Viking. He was a 'stubborn-ass revolutionist who sacrificed everything to keep and defend the goodness of this world', to quote you a bit. 'He was a legend even while he was alive, that is how a hero should be li-'"

"Shut up!" Vash's face was bright crimson and puffed up indignantly, stomping his feet for emphasis but only succeeding in giving him even more of a childish impression. The barrage of exclamation marks that followed did not help his case at all. "Shut up! Now you're just trying to embarrass me! This is completely off topic! Answer my question!"

And Gilbert must be the most sadistic creature on Earth to be able to watch this pathetic display and still continue his taunting tone. "But Vash, I did! You see, he," now he gestured at Mathias with a flourish of his hands that sent the chains on his wrists rattling, "is the Viking."

Vash's expression was priceless as he spun to stare at Mathias, who blinked, clueless and airheaded as always, and waved cheerfully back at the guard. The astonishment vanished as quickly as it had come, and then the guard was snarling at the albino, "You're lying. There's no way that that idiotic-looking idiot is-"

"But he is." Gilbert clucked his tongue at the shorter blonde, shaking his head as if disappointed. "You should have more trust in me if you are planning to free me and then use me as a tool to save your sweet little sister from the labs. And that was a pathetic insult – you should be ashamed."

Vash ignored the jab. "The Viking is dead!"

"I like Vikings," Mathias said placidly to Lovino, who watched on with furrowed brows and a fierce scowl. "I don't remember much about them but they seem very coo-"

"Shut up," the Italian snapped back viciously. Mathias whined like a kicked puppy but closed his mouth, observing from the sidelines as Lovino forced himself into the conversation by a single strong word shot directly between the prisoner and the guard. "Labs?"

"That is none of your business," Vash was quick to shoot him down.

"What is or is not my business will be up to me," Lovino retorted, matching Vash's glare with the same amount of intensity.

"You're #2469." The guard spat out the number as if it was an insult, and judging by his expression, it was probably meant to be.

It did not so much as ruffle the brunet. "My name is Lovino Vargas and you will refer to me as such."

"What does the prisoner renowned for his escape attempts want from a prison guard?"

"Not any prison guard, apparently." Lovino smirked, and his green eyes flashed dangerously. "One willing to betray his comrades for his little sister."

"Do you have a problem with that?" Vash did not break his glare but his stance shifted, chin lifting in the air as if daring Lovino to challenge him.

"No, no," the Italian laughed, waving dismissively. He talked the way a prince might: casual, but confident in the way that his word seemed absolute. He spoke in riddles that were truths, and Mathias watched the silent beast purr in delight. "In fact, quite the contrary. I am looking for my brother, and coincidentally, he is in the labs."

Vash's chin dipped as he mulled over the words and scrutinized Lovino. "Why should I trust what you say?"

"Why should I trust you?" Lovino challenged.

The guard huffed in almost-amusement. "Fair point." He seemed to ponder for some time before abruptly turning to Gilbert, who had been observing the two with wide-eyed fascination. "Turns out, Prussian, it seems like I no longer need your services. I have discovered a less bothersome and possibly more reliable acquaintance."

Lovino couldn't decide if the horror on the albino's face was real or fake, but it was funny nonetheless, and he made sure that his bark of laughter was extra scathing and wicked.

"You- You-," Gilbert spluttered, and Lovino laughed again. "You stole my client!"

"Sucks to be you."

The albino decided to change tactics and turned to Vash. "Traitor!"

"You've just figured that one out?"

Gilbert was helplessly trapped between the two sadistic, sarcastic beasts, and it was quite entertaining watching it but- oh no don't drag him into this- "Mathias, you got to help me! Do something!"

"What?" Maybe he could do something, and maybe he had wanted to do something to help this person who had turned out to be a friend he couldn't remember, but the moment he faced the two pairs of vivid green eyes simultaneously staring at him, daring him to do anything… Mathias gulped. "Well…"

"Fate! Cursed fate!" It was doubtful that God would ever aid a killer, and cursing karma was probably not going to do anything to help him. "Why am I surrounded by such horrid people?"

"Sucks to be you," Lovino repeated while Vash rolled his eyes at the albino's antics.

"Honestly, I was kidding. I'm still getting you out of here."

"I know," Gilbert grinned. "You're too honorable to turn your back on a deal."

"What about us?" demanded Lovino, turning an intense look to the short blonde.

Vash was silent, mulling it over. He was a Prison guard, helping one prisoner escape was risky enough…

But Lovino was special, they all knew it. They weren't sure how, but there was something about #2469 that frightened most; some aura or ability that made the guards laugh nervously when they see him in his cage, but scamper off with their tails between their legs when he escaped.

And he escaped.

Several times, in fact, and each time he had seemed just as inclined to leave, and that made him dangerous enough that they'd drug his food every day. For some reason though, that rarely seemed to affect him.

Maybe it was the way he could walk out of his cell with the door still locked behind him as if he had popped right out from the walls, or it was simply the way he grinned, and spoke, and fled – not like a coward, but like an exhilarated beast. Vash felt his lungs expand, drawing in a deep breath; he turned to the silent king of monsters who stood before him, stared it back in the eye, and tied a leash around its pale, open throat. "It'd be my honor."

The monster lurking beneath the skin of Lovino Vargas peered at him through golden-green orbs, and grinned.

The Prison reminded him of the labs. The same metal walls that created a winding maze of corridors and rooms and cells with numbers streaking past, the same flickering white and yellow lighting, the same frozen air that was swelling with swallowed screams. The only minute difference was that the reek of death was stronger than ever.

The labs had been clean. Disinfectant everywhere, men and women in pristine white lab coats pointing polished silver needles at their little white mice, the white-tiled floors scrubbed until it shone. If anyone died, wherever their bodies went, it was covered up well and completely.

Here, they didn't even bother to hide it. It didn't reek of carrion, but there was that terror, that cold, lifeless hopelessness that had permeated the entire prison, and it didn't reek, but he gagged and swallowed his bile. He felt some of that old pain from his mangled right arm coming back, whether it was from the cold or fear, he didn't know, but his bones creaked as he followed his brother and the guard into the maze of metal, and his flesh jumped and his skin crawled.

"Nobody should be here right now." Milen's sudden voice made him start ever so slightly, but no one noticed. "There's usually no one here anyway, since we have patrols everywhere, and if someone had escaped or is missing, we'd find out right away. The cameras are just for precaution."

They entered a room, perhaps the same size as the cells they've already passed, and it was half filled with black-and-white screens and wires.

"Here," Milen gestured. There was a single laptop connected to the many screens that flickered behind it. Its own screen was dark, but lit up when the guard swiped a finger over the touch pad and entered the password. Files and documents were already opened, and they popped up when they logged in, but Milen ignored them and opened a new folder. "We only have the barest information for most of the prisoners, usually just a picture, number, and cell number. Some have their trial results, but those really aren't much to look at either.

"Now, assuming that this Mathias is still alive…" Milen opened a new document and beckoned the brothers over. "He should be here. Scroll through it, you should recognize him through a picture, and then we'll track him down with the information we can get."

"Thank you." Lukas decided to ignore Milen's first comment about Mathias, but sometimes being optimistic was just so damn difficult. He began scrolling through the pages quickly, skimming over the faces and numbers. Several minutes later, he was still pressing the 'down' button, and that was when he dared to check how long the list actually was.

He nearly choked, because oh no, nearly two hundred pages really isn't too much for them to handle. They weren't in a hurry at all.

"Isn't there a faster way to do this?" he hissed, but Milen just shrugged.

"We don't really use the documents, so they're not very well-organized-,"

A screeching sound pierced through the metal walls and the Prison guard froze, green eyes wide as a siren began to blare in the distance. Then, as if they were being set off one by one, the shrill screaming of an alarm rushed closer until it filled the entire building, their room included. Lukas could barely hear Milen's words above the sound.

"An escaped prisoner." Then as if he had shed a face and set another in place, Milen Dimitrov moved swiftly towards the door, the kind light gone from his dark green eyes when he opened the door and was washed by flaring red lights. "I have to go. But keep searching, I'll be back."

The door swung shut, and Lukas began to scroll again, but this time with shaking hands while the terrified screeching continued to echo along the walls.

It was complete madness, but somehow, so far at least, it was working. There were guards stationed at nearly every corridor and several at the only exit of the Prison, but Lovino still held the map of the metal box, and Vash had worked here long enough that he was able to draw the quickest path to the front doors. Now the only challenge was not being seen. Vash simply had to stroll out the Prison with a flash of his card to the guards in front, but neither Lovino nor Mathias could turn invisible, and part of their master-plan relied on them being able to sneak out without stirring up a big scene. And Vash, that asshole, didn't even give them a suggestion before setting the stone rolling.

It was moments like these that Lovino could truly appreciate his own genius.

Yes, perhaps they couldn't be invisible, but Lovino knew that they couldn't see him on camera, and they couldn't see through walls either. As for Mathias… it shouldn't hinder them too much. Everyone knew the guards didn't check the cameras all that often anyway.

He still had the ridiculously detailed map, but for once, especially now that he had a clear path to the exit, he was glad for the details.

No guard saw them, but hopefully they didn't hear any of the surprised yelps from the prisoners' cells either. By jumping from cell to cell, directed by the line of a simple red marker, plenty of prisoners saw them, but they hated the guards enough not to blab, and so the guards remained blind.

The final hurtle was a long jump from a cell out the prison (he wondered why he had never done this before. It was so quick and easy), and he watched Mathias – all brawns and no brains – jump onto the nearest guard, jabbing his pressure point on his neck, took the rifle that slipped out of his hand, knocked another guard unconscious with the butt of the weapon, spun, rammed the other end into another man's stomach, kneed him in the face, pushed the dazed man into two other guards, dropped the rifle, smashed two more faces into the gray wall behind them, dug in his heel, aim with another rifle in his hand, and singlehandedly took out the dozen guards stationed by the exit.

Lovino's ears were ringing from the shots, but he found himself grinning, and that grin widened even more when an annoyed voice called, "What are you idiots just standing there for?"

Vash had stolen one of the identical black Mercedes Benz's that probably belonged to the Underworld, and they sped out of the parking lot, trees cutting into their view just before more guards, hearing the shots that had echoed through the too-silent forest, emerged from the prison to find bleeding and unconscious men clogging the doorway.

Mathias watched the trees flying past them in fascination, but his mind was evidently still back by the Prison gate. "That was fun!"

"I can't believe it actually fucking worked." But joy and exhilaration was evident in Lovino's voice, and the last few words were lost to the frantic beat of wind that rushed against his face as he rolled down the car window.

The air had never been so fragrant, so reviving. The coolness of the wind had never been so refreshing. How sweet was freedom! Lovino took a deep breath, eyes wide to the colors that were more than grey walls and white floors and black and white uniforms. He never thought he would miss colors so much, but there it was: a simple forest, an endless stretch of trees, yet so vibrant and alive with so many colors that for once, he thought that he might paint. Perhaps for once, he might be able to capture those brilliant shades and details in steady strokes of brush and soft panels of paint the way his brother was so talented in.

Abruptly, he shivered, and Lovino quickly rolled up the window again. Suddenly, his hands were clammy, his chest felt tight, his stomach churned.

Fool, he chastised himself, wiping his palms on his pants, scowling silently. This wasn't some kind of field trip.

"I suggest you two to change." Vash gestured at a pile of light blue clothes on the passenger seat.

Mathias grabbed them and handed a set to Lovino. "Why?"

Vash shrugged nonchalantly, but his expression was grim and his voice was strained. "The Underworld thought that it'd be ironic if a lab was disguised as a small hospital."

Lovino let out a bark of laughter, the sound harsh and bitter. "They did that in Australia too. A dentist clinic, for Heaven's sake."

"What?" Mathias glanced at the two. "I don't understand."

The Italian rolled his eyes. "Just get dressed, Køhler." Then to the Prison guard, "Are you sure she's still there?"

Vash scowled, grip on the steering wheel tightening until his knuckles were white. "You better pray that she is, Vargas, because if my sister is dead, the deal is off."

"What's so special about her anyway?"

Now Vash forced a smile, and it was an ugly, twisted thing. "You should know better than anyone else, Lovino Vargas. Is it true that they burned your corpse in the Australian lab?"

Lovino's scowl deepened, and he turned his back on the conversation to change.

The screeching refused to stop. He thought that perhaps it would never stop, and his mind would forever be spinning and flashing like the red alarms washing over the grey metal halls.

Nearly two hundred pages. Endless pictures, words, lists, numbers. His eyes now barely skimmed over the foreign faces, some no doubt gone, some still trapped somewhere in this metal box. It felt like everything was spiraling out of control into a dark, gobbling presence somewhere in the back of his head. Piece by piece, page by page, picture by picture, each crumbled and drifted away, twirling and dancing its way into the black hole that sucked and pulled and-

"Lukas."

Lukas jerked, finger momentarily leaving the 'down' button. The pages stopped rolling; the words came into focus, the picture only half registering as an unknown face. He stared into those stranger's eyes, unable to turn around to meet his own brother. "Did you see him?"

"No." There was a pause, a swallow, then silence. Lukas began to scroll again, this time much more slowly. They were nearing the end of the document, and still no Mathias Køhler. "Lukas."

Patience, he told himself, barely hearing Emil call his name. He cannot miss him, not when they were so close to finding him.

The pages stopped. Irritated, he tapped the 'down' button a few more times, but the document refused to budge. They had reached the end of the list of prisoners. Heart nearly stopping, Lukas began to search upwards – he must have missed him somewhere, there were so many-

"Lukas," Emil insisted but the sirens had rendered the older brother deaf and blind to everything but his thoughts and expectations.

"I've found him," Lukas murmured, slightly unbelievingly. He was frozen in two pages above the end. Then he turned on the chair, overwhelmed with relief, eager to show the results of the miserable search. "Emil- Emil?"

There was something strange about his brother: his skin was pale and clammy, blue veins scrawling through the thin layer as if he was suffocating; his violet-blue eyes were wide, pupils contracted, and he was trembling violently.

Documents abandoned, number – #2473 – pushed against the side of his skull, nearly forgotten, but there was iciness seeping through his skin where he felt his brother's forehead, freezing him to the bone. "Emil, what's wrong?"

"I-I don't know." His teeth were chattering too, and he shrugged, even if he did know. This dread, this horror – he had felt it before, and it had haunted his nightmares where he was trapped underground in tunnels of metal, ground covered in corpses and a slender snake slithering up his leg to whisper beside his ear. This was more than fear, more than paranoia: an animal lived in every single vessel, and there was something prowling, whimpering, struggling against the chains and cages and crying out in animalistic prediction. He couldn't help but repeat again, "Lukas."

"You'll be okay." His brother's voice was low and steady, soothing and calm, the hand rubbing down his shoulders and back meant to comfort, yet the alarms blaring outside had somehow manifested inside of him, and the sound was overriding everything else.

"Lukas, I have a bad feeling about th-,"

At that moment, the door slammed open.

Lukas spun around, and found himself staring down the muzzle of a rifle.

I am a horrible person. I am so, so, so, so sorry, I cannot apologize enough. There I was, going on about how I want you to review, then when people actually went on and did it, I made you all wait for over a month and come back with a chapter that was not as high quality as I would like it to be.

But that aside!

THANK YOU to everyone who reviewed. It warms my heart so, so much, it's wonderful. Thank you again, and I hope you enjoyed the chapter!