Sorry for the delay everyone, I have been away with the fairies planning some original work. I've also been super busy off the computer too.

Thank you so much for the reviews etc. as usual!

Disclaimer- Hetalia doesn't belong to me .

oOo

It had been a long time since Lovino had been inside the school where he'd spent most of his formative years. Since that time, he hadn't seen the need to take a walk down memory lane and had been keen to avoid awkward reunions with his teachers. It was rare for him to meet up with Feliciano now that his brother was older and could walk himself home, but even on these odd occasions he couldn't actually remember really entering the building, not since exiting its doors a few years ago.

The bland, pockmarked walls from reckless youths and careless projectiles were much the same as they had been back then. There was the stale, overused smell of classrooms and food, and the waft of teenage waste coming the lockers lining the walls. Lovino half expected to hear the ring of the bell or the bellow of a teacher from inside a classroom, but the liminal space stayed silent. Confronted with the familiar made unfamiliar, Lovino felt oddly oversized for the corridors lined with student work. He must have grown. It was strange experience, and he was glad that the building was basically deserted. He wasn't sure how he might have coped with the bustle of the school day.

Antonio seemed delighted by everything. "What a lovely school! My mother's is not nearly this nice, although it is for the smaller ones. I spent most of my education in a barn with the other village boys until they built it! My later schooling wasn't much better."

Lovino snorted, somehow unsurprised by the image of a tiny Antonio being taught his ABCs in a mucky barn.

"I guess it's because this isn't a state school. Grandpa wanted Feliciano and I to have the best education America had to offer, so he picked one with a decent entry fee. It wasn't Italy, but this place did the job."

He met Antonio's eye to share the joke but one glance too long in his direction and that honey warm smile of his had Lovino's mind spinning back to the other evening and he looked away quickly before the bodyguard could see his blush. How he could keep forgetting was worrying, but not nearly as much as how unfazed Antonio seemed by the situation.

"There's a male side and a female one, although when I was here it was a lot smaller," Lovino continued, slightly shaky. He remembered when girls had first started coming into the school and the uproar it had caused amongst some of the young men. He pointed demonstratively at the other wing of the building through the window which looked out over the top of the courtyard in the middle of the school where sports were being played below. It was after school and the only students around were those taking extra curriculars or catching up on work.

Three young men in the uniform of the establishment: grey jumpers, white shirts and blue blazers (over their arms in the warm weather), went past them in the hallway going the opposite direction. Lovino didn't recognise any of them but one of them shoved the other and they all openly stared; Antonio seemed to impose on them enough just to whisper excitedly as they had passed them.

"Did you know them?" The Spaniard's eyes followed them down the hall.

"No," Lovino sighed, clipping on ahead without looking back. "But they probably know me from a lower year group or through Feliciano. We do look familiar. Hard for them not to in any case; money is power here, and well..."

He trailed off. Antonio picked up the conversation and turned it as easily as turning a car wheel. "I thought Matthew went here?"

Lovino picked up the new discourse and explained about Matthew's scholarship, all the while internally mulling over those young men. It wasn't a push to imagine that they might have known him from his school days. They could have seen him at his absolute worse, or at least heard about him. Back then he had been all angst and rage with no outlet but inwards. School hadn't been easy for Lovino and he'd made a bit of a name for himself as being a loose cannon, someone to avoid. It was disquieting to think about that version of himself after he had tried so hard to leave it behind.

Being back in the school walls was bringing Lovino a lot of mixed feelings. It was a road trip of nostalgia in some ways, but in others he couldn't forget that his childhood wasn't one he remembered fondly. He recalled how he had struggled as an immigrant in an all-American school, especially one from Italy on the tail end of the war. Some of the older kids had pestered him about his accent until he'd managed to even it out into something more appropriate, or until they'd realised the money his Grandfather had. The following gaggle of people who had sniffed out the dollars in his wallet and wanted his 'friendship' was almost as poor of a memory as his teachers' gentle nagging to do better in his studies. He had avoided them all in the end, even though he couldn't outrun Roma's plans for him. Being back in another one of his cages was not an easy experience and seemed to bring errant thoughts and feelings to the surface like smoke from a flame.

If Antonio knew of his discomfort he didn't mention it, but he did reach to give his wrist a warm squeeze that Lovino enjoyed more than he should have. He took a deep breath: he was no longer chained here, he was free of those walls now.

It had been an impulse, this little trip to see his brother, and Lovino had followed it blindly. Relationships had not improved between the two of them and after nearly a week of it, he was at his wits' end. With Grandpa out of town, Feli was barely at home, staying in school until closing and eating out with Ludwig more often than necessary. If he wasn't avoiding him by keeping away from the house, Feliciano was avoiding him in it, staying in his room and barely sharing a word with his brother when they crossed paths for the bathroom. Lovino didn't need Ludwig's apologises (second hand through Antonio) to know that Feliciano was making it his mission to avoid him. It was the longest they hadn't properly spoken in a while, and although Lovino might have deserved a large part of the treatment he had decided enough was enough.

Feliciano wanted to avoid him- fine. Then Lovino would force himself on him just as much. They would not fall out over something so stupid when all it would take is for his little brother to listen to him.

Besides, they needed to at least be civil by the time Roma came back.

"Do you think he's going to be annoyed with you?" Antonio could read his mind, he swore it. Though the Spaniard didn't seem concerned at the statement.

"Probably. Good." Lovino sniffed, shoving his hands in his pockets. "We need to clear the air, and if I have to corner him where he least expects it, so be it."

The Spaniard remained pleasantly silent as they rounded the corner where the art studio was based. Lovino knew it by memory from his own time and from Feliciano's rare open evenings, and as usual the door was wide open. Lovino's heart picked up the pace a little, and he half changed his mind about doing this when he poked his head in.

Lovino was assaulted by the smell of white spirits, the earthy tang of clay and the chemical but oh so familiar musk of paint. There wasn't much to see; the studio was practically empty at this time of day. With the afternoon light streaming in through the floor length windows it was clear to see why the room had been chosen for its purpose. Every artist needed a bright space to create and the golden light of the setting sun was perfect for the job. There were finished and unfinished works on all the walls and surfaces, blending like paints on a palette until the onlooker couldn't be sure of what was art or not just yet. The space was so chaotic, senseless and creative it brought back some of the only positive memories Lovino had of the place; there was just something about studios and their freedom that made his heart sing a little.

"Lovino?" Came a voice to one side of the room. Feliciano hopped off the stool he had been perched on and in his shock, he seemed to forget to look mad at him for the first time all week. His brother was wearing an off-white artist smock over his school uniform. "What are you doing here?"

"Don't sound too shocked," Lovino said, ignoring the other students who were busy working in other areas of the room now that he looked closer. "I thought it would be nice to see you seeing as you keep pestering me to come, and..."

He trailed off lamely as his brother seemed to remember their argument. Why had he thought it was a good idea to see Feliciano when his brother clearly hated his guts right now? Feliciano seemed to be thinking the same thing, his eyes narrowing coldly.

"It's not like you to make the effort."

Lovino flinched at the cruel jibe. That was a lie-

No, he was here to make amends. "Cut me some slack, I've been busy you know. I'm here now."

Ludwig joined them cautiously, coming over from the window where he had been stood, much to Antonio's apparent delight. The Spaniard immediately dragged Ludwig to the side to chat away, leaving the brothers to talk.

Lovino thought for a moment he might be turned away when begrudgingly Feliciano indicated for him to follow. "Why don't I show you what I've been working on?"

His brother led him to the side of the class that was dominated by sketches in a similar hand. Feliciano's style was very alike him as a person, and Lovino could have picked it out of any sample lying around the room. His strokes were bold and messy to the untrained eye, but to someone who understood technique his flitting about the page was intentional to add shadow or definition. No brushstroke or pencil mark was without purpose. There were plenty of pieces in the collection that Lovino had not seen before which was a nice surprise. The corner was overrun by Feliciano's work, the tutors must have dedicated him his own space to use. It was reasonable, his brother was incredibly talented, more-so than Lovino could have ever been.

Out of earshot from everyone else, Feliciano was watching him closely from a side-eye with pursed lips. Lovino could tell he was bursting to talk, and so was unsurprised when he did.

"What are you really doing here?" His tone was peevish, harsh. Lovino sighed.

"Why? Are you still mad at me?" He couldn't help but let the sarcasm enter his voice, bitter on his tongue. In his artist smock, Feliciano looked like a chicken when he puffed up in indignation.

"You know I'm still mad at you." His hiss was frustrating but Lovino did not rise to it. Instead he played his trump card.

"Grandpa left me in charge." Lovino sounded like a 10-year-old version of himself, but it had the right affect. Feliciano shut up, even if he glared at him darkly. "And I'm sure he won't be pleased if he found out you've been ignoring his orders. He wanted us to get on."

Feliciano fumed and chewed the inside of his cheek; Lovino hated this.

"Look," he said roughly, suddenly tired. "If you're going to hate me, fine, hate me. I didn't mean to hurt you, I thought it was for the best. The thing is Nonno will be pissed if we're still arguing when he gets back off his trip. Neither of us wants that. That's all I'm here to say, or remind you in any case. Could we at least pretend to get along for a bit?"

His brother didn't answer but stared thoughtfully at the floor. When he got like that it was best to leave him be. As brother mulled it over, Lovino took the moment to look at Feliciano's work. At one stage, when he was a tight knot of jealousy and frayed nerves, Lovino had envied the quality of Feli's work when compared to his own. Even at a very young age the boy had been gifted. As they had got older and Lovino had grown accustomed to the idea, his teachers had bemoaned Lovino's lack of conviction in comparison to his younger brother, and he'd hated the pressure of it all. Lovino of the present was proud of Feliciano's competence in the arts and with him starting to look for colleges soon he hoped he took his skills and did something with them. Hands that could create works as beautiful as these works should never hurt another person, it was barbaric.

"Your composition has improved." It came out of his mouth in the quiet. The critique brought Feliciano back into the room and with the topic firmly on his art his voice was neutral. It was the only thing Lovino knew was a safe topic for Feliciano, he was touchy about most other subjects.

"Thanks, I've been working on it a lot this term," he preened. It was there, a shy flicker of the eye as his brother absorbed the praise before turning away. Perhaps they weren't back to normal but the air did feel a lot less prickly around them now.

"Are you going to use one of these pieces for your college application?"

The dark look came back to Feliciano's face suddenly, as if they'd gone back in time to moments before. "Fratello..."

Lovino might have questioned his tone if one of the other students who had all packed up without them noticing, called from the doorway.

"Night Vargas, see you tomorrow! Don't forget you're on trash duty tonight!"

Trash duty?! Lovino couldn't help but suddenly scoff as Feliciano's face went beet red and the familiar childish pout came out.

"Oh, you take out the rubbish, Feliciano?" And of course, Antonio had to pipe up from his loitering position by Ludwig's side (who was trying to hold back his own dry smile) which made it all the more difficult to not laugh. Feliciano's filthy look was priceless.

"The art class makes so much waste we take down it out ourselves seeing as the main bins are just below the classroom." His brother was clearly trying to ignore him and failing as he rounded the tables to reach the bin in question, swiping off his smock a tad too irritably. To Lovino's surprise he actually grabbed the handles and picked the damn thing up-

-and hauled it straight into Ludwig's waiting arms. That was just... wow.

"I'll be five minutes." Feliciano stated.

"Careful, you might get a hangnail," Lovino couldn't resist a sly jibe and took pleasure in the withering look his brother shot him before the classroom door shut. He especially enjoyed hearing Antonio cackle too.

"You shouldn't tease him, but..."

"I know. But he does deserve it a little." Lovino smirked. He knew that if he looked out over the window he would be able to watch Feli's progress with the bin but it would take them a couple of minutes to get down the stairs. Instead, Lovino decided to take a better look at his brother's work without him watching.

Antonio joined him. "Oh wow, dios your brother is actually really talented!"

Of course he was talented, they were related after all.

"You're really captured in this one Lovi-"

What. "Feliciano doesn't draw me."

Even so he looked over and sure enough there was his own likeness, largely in pencil but some of it had been translated into other mediums. He rarely was looking at the viewer; Feliciano had clearly caught him when he was doing something else which somehow made Lovino feel even more off kilter than he already did.

"That little shit." He hadn't wanted Feli to draw him. He couldn't say why, but he'd hated the idea of it. He rarely posed for photos either. "I'm going to put his stupid head through a canvas."

Lovino stomped over to the window and threw it open. Feliciano and Ludwig were now visible, heading to the large waste bins on the edge of the school lot. The window backed out onto the road, looking down onto the T junction at the foot of the letter. It was a quiet street and largely empty. Lovino remembered that children usually played on it but not today for some reason; besides he didn't have time to dwell on that when there were little brothers to yell at.

"Feliciano, you better hurry up and get back here because I'm going to kill you!"

His brother turned and looked up, shielding his eyes from the glare that must come off the low sun on the windows. When he shouted 'what?' it was far away. Lovino would need to yell louder.

He opened his mouth, but a loud screech of tires broke through the relative calm of the afternoon. From his vantage point Lovino saw a car round the corner of the road directly opposite them. It hurtled towards the school with its tires screeching. The danger didn't register straight away, even as Ludwig threw the bin away from him to grab Feliciano, and Antonio took off sprinting down the stairs. It was only when the sun caught the glint of a weapon peeping from the car did Lovino's mind catch up with what he was seeing.

"Fratello, RUN!"

Lovino couldn't stay there. He couldn't just watch. Antonio had yelled at him to keep still or hide or something, but he ignored the command and sped after the bodyguard. He took two steps at a time, but nightmare-like his movements seem to drag through the air.

One floor left. Antonio was already at the doors and threw them wide, no more car noises- but that screaming-

"Feliciano!" Lovino barrelled out into sunlight. He caught the faint impression of Ludwig on the floor and a black car parked with all its doors wide before-

The assailant, a heavy looking man in black and with a plain mask over his face, had his brother in a chokehold. Feliciano was trying to pry him off but without success. There were tears in his eyes and they glinted in the red sunlight.

"Ludwig!" He screamed dragging his way to the car. "Lovino! Help-!"

The man shoved a rag in front of his face and the cries were muffled.

"Feli-!" His brother was leaving. He was being taken, and Lovino didn't even have a weapon to stop it. Antonio had a gun in his hands but there was no way to take a shot when his brother was being used as a human shield.

Lovino had no choice, he had to run for him-

His foot caught on something and Lovino went flying mid-step. He managed to break his fall but the hard ground jarred his shoulder. No time to think. Dazed, Lovino kicked out and attempted to stand. He was just in time to see Feliciano, half limp but still struggling be shoved like a sack of laundry into the back seat of the car. No, no, no-

"Stay down!" Antonio's bark came from somewhere behind him and the next second the assailant had to duck into his car to avoid the bullet that went over his head. Three more shots went into the window and bonnet, but not one of them hit the man. There was a slam of the door and a whine of wheels; Lovino was pelted with gravel and the next moment the car -Feliciano- were gone.

There was a whistling noise in his ears over a wheezing sound that it took him a moment to realise was his own labouring breaths. Feli, fratellino...

Lovino's shoulder burned as he tried to stand only to stumble straight into Antonio who held him at arms-length.

"Estรกs bien?" A short nod was enough for the bodyguard who turned his attention to Ludwig. It had been his hand which had stopped Lovino; he was laid out of the floor looking wan and clutching his chest. There was no blood, but he'd been hit hard enough to hurt. Nevertheless-

"We need to go after him!" Ludwig tried to stand, only to hiss in pain and fall back to his knees. Antonio crouched by him, a hand on his shoulder.

Were they moving? Were they going after Feliciano?

"We can't, not like this and you know it," replied Antonio.

But, Feliciano... he...

Lovino was lost, his hands shaking at his side.

"Opa will kill me for this; Roma will kill me for this." Ludwig's mention of Lovino's grandfather made him feel sick. Of course... he'd been left in charge and Feliciano was gone. Ripped from his side like an arm or a leg.

Who had taken him?

"Ludwig, you're hurt. Just wait-!"

Where? Why?!

"No- I have to get Master Feliciano!"

Lovino had to... he had to do something.

He wasn't aware he was walking, running even, until Antonio had him held close around the middle while he fought to proceed. His arms were a vice Lovino needed to be freed from. He needed to find Feliciano- his baby brother-

"Let me go," The shock was affecting his hearing. He could have been whispering or screaming, it was all the same to Lovino. "Let me go, I have to find him- Antonio, let me go-!"

Antonio was practically in his ear. "Where would you go except into trouble? Lovino, please-"

Lovino was going to be sick, he couldn't breathe.

Grandpa was going to hurt him. He had lost his little brother and had no idea who took him, or where he had gone, or what they might do to him.

Oh, god what they might do to him. They had drugged him-!

"No! No, I have to find him!" The adrenalin coursing through his veins could not power his legs to move and he found himself gasping and sinking to the floor with Antonio's arms still around him. "My little brother- Antonio, please. You have to let me go-"

"We can't help him like this," Antonio was clearly struggling to keep control too; his voice was weary even though his hold was firm. "We need help. We don't even know who took him. Maybe there's a message back at the house. We- we need to think."

But who could they ask? Roma was out of town, Lovino had no idea how to contact his men and he had little else to rely on.

How would they get him back? Could they?

oOo

Gilbert wasn't a pansy ass shit. He didn't believe in much; no God or higher power, no fates or any of that bull, but he did like to think that he had developed a sort of a sixth sense. That or he was just highly lucky when it came to pulling straws. Or maybe really skilled in reading people. Either way, he'd just known that taking Birdie back to Ivan with him would be a great idea, much in the same way he'd known that he'd enjoy Antonio's company more than anyone else's back on the ship to America. He could have very well kept to himself both times, but he'd been drawn to them both. The pretty little lady with such bravery and the guy with the messy hair, whose infectious nature was enough to warm even his heart. He'd also known exactly which jobs to take and when. Taking on work from Ivan had been a blessing for his bank account and even Lovino's little jaunt had been a tidy earner for very minimal effort.

He was instinctive like that.

As such, Gilbert had grown used to trusting his instincts; they had helped him so far after all. If a poxy gunfight gave him a big flashing red warning light, he knew it enough to heed it and high-tail it out of there. He'd dragged Birdie away, and they'd have been okay if Natalya hadn't eyed him on the way out, and now those senses just wouldn't stop flashing in warning.

There wasn't much choice.

"Birdie! Birdie get in here!"

She had been just about to have one of her baths, he could tell by the pissed off look on her face as she entered the living room. She was wearing a sweet little day dress, having changed out of her usual suit as soon as she got home. It fitted her just right and he tried not to stare too much, instead he waved her over to his perch on top of the suitcase.

"Pull the clasps will you?"

She was clearly intrigued but did as he bid. There was a dull finality to the metal clicking into place, and it took all of his skills to keep the smile on his face. He heaved himself off the suitcase and his feet landed with a thud on the floor.

"Thanks, this is for you actually." Gilbert said, clapping his hands together. "I need you to do a drop for Francis for me, can you do that?"

Birdie looked at him like he'd gone mad. Her whistle was affronted as she signed: look at the time! Really, after the day we've had? She had a point, it was odd request and he needed to make it not seem so. This was, no- it needed to be the most normal thing in the world. He threw her a winning smile that cracked her stern features if only a fraction.

"I know, I'm a moron. I forgot to give him this stuff when I last saw him and..." The lies came thick and fast and he was great at telling them even if they made guilt bubble up in his stomach. "He mentioned something about leaving the city. I don't want to miss him. I'd take it myself but I'm waiting on a phone call."

There was still doubt in her eyes and he could read it like a stream of his own thoughts; does it have to be tonight? It's been a long day and the store is the other side of the city.

Well, that was the point...

"Yeah, we have a really busy week coming up and we can't spare the time, I'm afraid." He grinned as she thought it over, his heart drumming in his chest. Eventually she nodded. "Great, you're a doll!"

With an eye roll and sigh of impatience she turned to leave the room, but Gilbert's heart out won his head and impulsively his hand shot after her. Birdie turned to look at the hand that had latched itself firmly to the sleeve of her jacket; almost as if he was scared to hold her with his bare hands. Her hand was right there. He could easily take it in his own. Instead he rubbed the faded material softly between his fingers, and it felt like a poor consolation, but he couldn't give the truth away.

He did not speak at first. Not because he didn't know what to say, but because those dark eyes had caught him off guard again.

"Don't get changed."

She raised an eyebrow, but her look went hopeful. They had agreed that she should rarely, if ever, leave the house dresses as a female. They'd only tried it the once when they'd gone incognito to see Lovino; it had been a nice change having her hanging off his arm, her thin wrists catching at his own.

"After what happened today the police could be looking for a man with your description. You'd be near invisible as a woman."

That makes some sense, she smiled. His heart skipped a beat at the sight. Maybe now would be the best time...?

"Actually, I bought you something. It was going to give it you another time but-" He faltered and then quickly recovered with a well-timed wink. "Well, you know what I'm like. Seems like a wasted opportunity if you can't have it now."

Gilbert knew he had piqued her interest enough for his close shave with the truth to have gone amiss. He caught her delicate hand in his own and took her out of the room, leading into his bedroom. There was little time to be embarrassed at the concept. The space was characteristically tidy with very little in the way of personal touches. There was the worn bible he leafed through on his bedside table. Toiletries were lined up on the shelf and a woollen blanket, holey and with bumps all over it, stretched over the bed. Birdie was many things and a knitter wasn't one of them; yet the gift was treasured all the same. Gilbert also had a few diaries which he had kept over the years but these he hid in a hidden wardrobe compartment when he wasn't using them. He kept his reminiscing to himself these days. Out of politeness, Birdie rarely entered his bedroom and now she hovered uncertainly in the doorway. It was only when Gilbert reached under his bed and withdrew a large, patterned box that her she became more at ease.

"It's not much." He was distracted by the wonder in her dark eyes and awkwardly held out the box to her. "I saw it in the thrift store down on Tenth, and I thought of you."

Another lie, but only because Birdie would refuse it if she knew how much its contents had really cost. Gilbert had cringed handing the money over, but it was worth every dollar and many more to see the expression of wonder on her face when she pulled out the yellow felt cloche hat and matching coat from the confines of the box. The hat was not as low as some of the hats the flappers wore, but the large bow was very chic -or so the store clerk had said. Gilbert had just known that it would make Bridget's small features more marked. The coat was similar in style with its slimline cut and fine tailoring; which would be ideal for her small frame. Gilbert had initially only wanted the hat as he'd spied it through the department store window, but on seeing the coat and in such an unusual colour, Bridget's colour, he knew Birdie had to have it. The fine fur collar and cuffs would serve her well in the coming winter too.

"Do... do you like it?" She hadn't moved since pulling them from the box. Had he offended her? Had his choice been wrong? Wait- were they tears in her eyes-?!

The next moment she was throwing her arms around him and pressing herself again his chest with abandon and the words died in his throat. Instinctively he held her close, almost freezing when her lips ghosted upon his cheek. She was so small, so warm and soft and real that he wanted to stop this and he couldn't control his face when she leant back to beam at him. Whatever his features were doing it made her instantly concerned and her hand reached up to gently touch his face in an instant as he tried to regain his composure.

"I thought you hated it! I thought you were going to throttle me for a second then!" He joked, or tried to. His attempt at lightening the mood wasn't overly successful as the hand stayed glued to his face like she feared he would break without her support. Laughing, he peeled it off and placed it close to his heart, hoping she would read the rapid beating as excitement. "Aren't you going to try it on?"

Birdie seemed appeased by his act. With a schoolgirl smile she took the coat and hat into the hallway where there was a full-length wall mirror. The best for her preening. She threw the set on. He was right, the coat fitted around her snugly and the hat adorned her blonde hair perfectly. Gilbert smiled from his vantage point in the doorway of his room, leaning in the frame. It was as wonderful and bittersweet as he had prayed it wouldn't be. Birdie looked happier than she had in months. Stunning even, with a genuine grin on her face.

In the act of giving his gift, Gilbert had brought the dreaded moment closer: she was ready to go now. She didn't make it any easier when she kissed his cheek again in thanks.

I'll get a move on before it gets too late, she whistled. Birdie was a honey coloured breeze as she slipped past him to grab her shoes from the hall cupboard. She was back again in an instant and as easy as that she was slotting on her rarely used pretty shoes, they went better with the new coat. The minutes slipped past Gilbert before he could even mentally prepare for her departure. She was so calm and happy and he wanted that, but now he didn't want her to leave.

Don't go, stay, this isn't what it seems, I need you-

"There's a letter too." He said instead. He withdrew the chunky envelope from the mantelpiece in the lounge. It was heavy and full of documents and Birdie handled it with curiosity. "You need to keep them flat, you'll have to carry them by hand. Just give it to Francis, yeah?"

He needn't worry about her opening it. Her nod was something she wouldn't go back on. He cracked a smile that felt like it tore the sides of his mouth. "That's my girl."

Gilbert had felt the urge moments before, but the need to grab her face and hold her close was now tenfold. It came along with the knowledge of what he was doing was something he couldn't go back from. His heart swelled inside his chest. It was fit to burst when she handled the weight of the suitcase, her cheeks puffing out at the effort. She looked over at him brightly, and when her opulent eyes raised to his own, it had Gilbert's resolve nearly flying out of the window.

He stomped over to the door gruffly to open it for her because if his traitorous heart had its own way he wouldn't be able to stop himself from keeping her here. She didn't seem to notice and hopped forward, struggling a little to balance the weight evenly.

I love you-

"Keep safe, Birdie." His stupid mouth couldn't help but open once again as she made to cross over the threshold. She paused and smiled at him. He wanted to say more but she closed the distance between them and kissed the corner of his mouth. It was intimate, and he did not miss the blush on her cheek as she pulled away, her eyes lowered.

Before either of them could do anything else she left, heading down the stairs and leaving Gilbert stunned in his own apartment. It was only when the sound of her heeled shoes had retreated far enough away for Gilbert to hear his own pounding heart beat in his ears, did he close the door firmly. He didn't bother with the lock.

Alone in the apartment, Gilbert moved to the window to watch as she left. Her yellow coat was light and easily visible on the dark street below. He watched her progress, praying for her to turn around, praying for her to keep walking. She rounded the corner and disappeared. Gilbert locked eyes with his own reflection and focused on getting his trembling under control. Right-

He swung around the apartment, dousing all the lights. He left the one in the sitting room next to his chair, and sunk into it once his rounds were done. He pulled the stashed gun out of its hiding place in the side drawer. He fiddled with it, hearing nothing but the sound of the apartment settling around him. His neighbours below were singing loudly and off key to the wireless. Somewhere else a baby crying and a dog barking outside. The mantelpiece clock ticked on, but its precise measurements were not soothing.

She should be at the bus stop now. If he was lucky, she wouldn't have thought anything was wrong. Maybe, if he wasn't a good actor she would come back...

No, he was too good for that. He didn't want that.

A distinct creak had him raising his head from where he was bowed, staring at the gun in his lap. The lack of light was intentional. He couldn't see well- but neither could she.

"I wondered how long it'd take you." He smirked, more confidently than his raised blood pressure would tell him. His heart was a jackhammer, just as it had been when she had kissed him. The shadow framed in the doorway was familiar and unsurprising. It lengthened as the door opened further to cross the carpet.

He'd known Ivan would send Natalya. Gilbert hated her; he hated him. Every tool had a purpose in the end, and his instincts had not been wrong.

He had one gun, and limited shots. If the stark gleam at her side meant anything, she had her knives to hand, probably a concealed pistol too. She didn't say anything, but her stance shifted a little in the doorway to the living room slightly. Gilbert barked a laugh and felt it echo back from the walls of his home. His and Birdie's; he would protect them both.

"What are you waiting for?" He grinned wolfishly in the dark, a flash of silver that echoed Natalya's knives. "Let's get on with it. I'm a busy man."

oOo

Feli's kidnap was one of the 'original scenes' I had planned for this story right from the beginning. Same again with Gilbert's chapter! It's so strange to finally be writing some of this! Only 4 chapters left.

I am shamelessly shipping together Gilbert and Birdie, so sorry about that!

I am already typing up 56 and will probably spend most of my lazy Sunday editing 55- it's big though and I know I won't finish today. I am still planning on getting the whole thing up before the 6 year mark so wish me luck. I am really keen to start on my original work (plus the re-visualisation of DoaES) so it's nice to have those as a treat to myself!

See you all next update, reviews appreciated in the meantime.