Summary: Dr. Kirkland, after a long string of events, finds himself shuttled into the dusty old town of Sandy Flats, adjusting to the hilarious characters, dark villains, and charming heroes of a classic but eccentric Western town.

Pairings: USUK, PRUCAN, GERITA, SPAMANO, HUNGAUST, possible GIRIPAN.

Warnings: Yaoi/Boys-Love, heavy language and possible suggestive situations. Minor violence.

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Chapter Twenty Five: A Meeting with a Fugitive

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The jail cells were very dark, hardly lit by the dripping candles that now only resembled grotesque wax formations. Arthur shivered in the drop in temperature, waving away a cobweb that hung on the ladder. Why there was another trap door, Arthur could not be sure; for fires? He landed on the jail floor with a light thud, a cloud of dust pluming around him. The doctor coughed and waved it away, blinking, eyes adjusting to the dim light. Two cells were empty, but one housed a girl. He could only assume that this was Natalia Braginski, the infamous knife-master and prisoner of the state. Fingers drumming over the diary's edge, he stepped forward, kneeling by the cell.

Natalia was a pretty girl, with long pale hair, a bony face, and an elegant scowl. A ragged bow sat atop her head. She was turned away, curled in the corner of her dingy cell.

"Ma'am?" Arthur called, leaning close to the bars. Natalia did not move. "Ma'am, I've come to ask you some questions," he tried, surprised when she looked up at him with the same eerie violet eyes as her brother.

She laughed prettily, the peals of mockery hanging in the air. "Oh, come to ask questions, has he? Come to find brother through poor, weak sister, has he? Wants to know more, he does. They come to Natalia, they does, with excuses, excuses!" she sneered, slinking forward along the cell floor until she clung to the bars, hanging from them like a skeleton. "Excuses, excuses and lies!" she chanted, a wild rage evident in her ghostly eyes.

Arthur cringed, resisting the urge to back away. She was panting from her shouting, but attracted no attention from the people upstairs. "I do not come to ask you about your brother," he said simply, watching her hang off of his every word.

"Lies," she hissed, "I saw you with the blonde man, Alfred's his name, I know, I know. He's a fool – and for you to fall so hard only makes an ass out of you!" she laughed. "Irony! Irony! That the Englishman should fall like sister before him!"

Arthur's patience grew thin, and he pulled the diary from his jacket. "This," he stated, waving it in the candlelight. "Do you recognise this?" Natalia's eyes lit up in surprise before she began to laugh prettily again.

"Oh, irony! Irony! That you should be a doctor in the old abandoned doctor's house, and find poor, lovestruck sister's diary! That you should find it in the abandoned doctor's house, where she thought she had hid it so well! It is her fault, all hers, to give her heart so freely! To give her heart to a boy! A boy!" she snickered, voice growing to a hush whisper, greedy grin on her face. "When it was his brother whom she truly loved!"

The pieces began to fall in place. "Natalia, ma'am, what was the name of the man she truly loved?"

The Russian giggled cruelly, as if she found it all terribly amusing. "Matthew Williams!" Arthur suddenly remembered the portrait. "And he doesn't know to the day! Oh, but Alfred knew! And though he cared for her so, his care grew thin. How can you love someone who only loves your twin – Your twin! He left her, he did, do you hear? I can tell you the story as it was through not-lovestruck eyes. Brother can not, he tried to kill his best friend! And Brother was the reason that Alfred is in this town, mark my words. If it were not for his enemy, the toy would never have met his love. Oh but sister! And when he left her, cried for days and days, she did, for now Matthew could never be hers! She used him! And brother, see brother knows where loyalties lie. In debt, in family, and in no other order. He reminded her of this, and she promised never to leave us again. The family, no one leaves the family. He tried to kill him, brother did, for sister told him he had broken her heart. For sister told him, she did! She told brother lies."

Arthur interrupted her. "But then Alfred and Matthew are innocent! Why hunt them down?"

"Do debt, to family, and no other order. Sister told brother her story, and, as youngest, I can not contradict her."

"I see, continue." He prompted, pocketing the diary.

"And so brother tried to kill your precious Alfred. But he could not; brave, noble Matthew, always in his brother's shadow, stopped him, the nerve! Be the hero for once! He promised brother he would kill him if he tried to harm a hair on precious Alfred's head!" she cackled. "The weakling! No hero can kill brother, a wise man told him so. No hero, no hero! In return, brother promised Alfred. Keep your treasures, close, he said, he said! Keep them close, for when your back is turned, they are mine! MINE!"

Arthur recalled the promise Braginski had mentioned the night Natalia was captured. "But what is Alfred's greatest treasure?" he inquired.

She sneered, obviously having waited for the question all night. "You."

They sat there, Arthur staring at her in shock, Natalia grinning like a Cheshire cat. Oh, through the looking class Arthur had fallen.

"And now the doctor, the toy, the prize! He comes to Natalia asking questions! Comes to find more! To debt, to family, and in no other order! Oh brother, oh brother, no hero, no hero! Irony! Irony! Excuses, excuses, and LIES!" she screeched, making dust fall from the ceiling, bony knuckles clutching the bars, eyes wild with insanity, voice escalating.

"Oi!" came a rapping on the trap door leading to the office. "Keep it down in there!"

She continued to chant, pretty face contorted in crazed pleasure. Arthur stood to take his leave. "Thank you, ma'am, that will be all."

Natalia paused in her mantra and grinned darkly at him, bony fingers clutching the bars, turning her knuckles white, looking as if she had just told a terribly funny story.

"Excuses, excuses, and lies."

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I handwrote this on parchment, and I'm willing to give it away if anyone would like. Written in pen and ink on parchment. PP: No charge, it creeps me out.

Written on: December 15, 2009.