A/N : I have a bad habit of very long chapters that can be difficult to read, I know, so I'm trying my hand at shorter chapters here, though more of them. I hope you'll be patient with me as I find out how this sits with me. (prbly not well)

Chapter 3

Stairway of Silence

The temperature dropped sharply.

The air became painful to his lungs, and he wasn't dressed for this exactly. Tired as hell. Was prepared to pull an all-nighter after the encounter with that frightening man, but Alfred was damn exhausted, and not as alert as he should have been.

He leaned against the brick wall for support, sheltered by the awning above, and tried not to fall asleep standing up. Sure as hell wouldn't be the first time, but it was always unpleasant.

Time passed. The air grew ever colder.

There had been little movement from within in the past few hours. Could hear Ludwig screaming from time to time, but that aside nothing eventful occurred.

Ludwig had been on the phone with Gilbert for hours.

Alfred was just starting to actually feel the cold, and pretty painfully, when the door finally opened again and Ludwig poked his head out, stared at Alfred very potently, and asked, mostly to himself, "Still here, are you?"

Oh, yeah, but not happily.

Alfred scoffed, breath puffing out in the freezing air, and he just kept his eyes straight ahead as he retorted, "Now, look, I ain't tryin' to be an asshole, since I know English isn't your first language. But— You do actually know what a bodyguard is, right?"

No response to that, and since Alfred's phone hadn't rang he could only assume that Ludwig had been very unsuccessful in convincing Gilbert to let him go.

Ludwig was staring away at him, he could feel it, but Alfred kept his posture still and didn't glance over, because honestly in that moment it was taking all of his effort to not shiver. It was important to appear unfazed and frightening, to appear inhuman, especially to his clients. That was how they felt safe, after all.

Maybe Ludwig felt a little bad for having gone off on Alfred as he had.

By then, with the freezing air, Alfred had put it behind him. Was too tired in that moment to be angry with Ludwig, and just felt rather resigned. A little melancholy.

Pitied Ludwig too much to stay mad at him, in the end.

After a long silence, there was a deep noise of what could very well have been aggravation, but when Ludwig finally spoke up again, what he said surprised Alfred quite a bit.

"Well. Come in, then. It's cold out."

Alfred snapped his head over, breaking his attention, because it felt so somehow absurd.

Ludwig had stepped outside, in his thin house clothing and socks, and was holding the door open expectantly.

Alfred just stood there, a little dumbly, because it was nothing that he had ever really encountered before. Had never had a client invite him into their own home just because it was cold outside.

He must have looked as dumb as he felt, because Ludwig was quick to lift his chin and say, very pointedly, "You do actually know what pneumonia is, don't you?"

Alright, alright, fair enough.

Alfred narrowed his eyes a bit, pursed his lips, and made it known to Ludwig that he wasn't amused.

Ludwig must have seen it, for his posture loosened a bit, and he inclined his head to the door, saying, in a gentler voice, "Come. All of my heat is escaping. Come inside."

Stubbornly, Alfred turned straight back ahead, staring off into the night, and said, "My job is to guard you. Whatever the weather. Go back inside, where I know you're safe."

He said it only because maybe, stupidly, his feelings were a little hurt from Ludwig's prior shove. Stupid, yeah, but it had stung all the same.

Alfred was just being difficult because Ludwig was difficult, and maybe Ludwig knew that, because his posture changed again, and for the first time Alfred had seen, Ludwig seemed to slump.

Looked so defeated then, and once more pity came to the top of the feeling pile.

Another silence, and then it was Ludwig who scoffed. His voice was lower. Deep, rumbling, almost a bit mournful, actually, a tone that Alfred hadn't yet heard and it was a little...sad.

"If you truly think that Ivan will come barging up to the front door while you're standing there, you're very mistaken. He'll sneak in through the back window, if he really wants. What good will you do me all the way out here with no key?"

...damn.

Alfred looked over once more, saw how serious Ludwig's face was, and finally relented. With a sigh, he conceded and took a step, and Ludwig may have looked a bit relieved when he held the door open for Alfred as he stepped through. When the door was shut behind them, Alfred's glasses immediately fogged up, and he was quick to remove them and place them on the nearest end table. Didn't really need the damn things, anyway. Had picked them up on his way north, too.

Maybe he was just trying to be someone else.

As Ludwig stared him down, Alfred took a quick look around, and immediately began reconnaissance.

Ivan, eh? That name again. A first step. Needed to get the whole story from Ludwig, but his main priority then was locking and bolting the front door, and from there he went to each window in turn, testing the locks for strength and searching for any points of entry that weren't secure.

Ludwig just stood there in the living room as Alfred made his way through the house, still and quiet, and Alfred tried to be quick and discreet, especially when he went into the bedroom. A bit inappropriate, and yet certainly exciting, thrilling in a way. Ludwig had been so out of reach, so distant, so cold, icy, and being able to get that more personal feel of him was satisfying, because Alfred liked to be in control of everything.

Gilbert may have been signing the paycheck, but Ludwig was really the source of Alfred's income, and Alfred wanted to be in charge of that, and that meant being in charge of Ludwig. Getting up close and personal would make it harder for Ludwig to keep being so difficult and aloof, and Alfred looked forward to that because it would make the job easier when he didn't want to strangle blondie every five minutes.

Every two minutes, more like.

That said, he was instantly quite keen to the scent of Ludwig's bedroom, though, that was obvious. Pleasing. Calming. Cologne and clean linen. Could say right off that he loved the way Ludwig smelled. For all the good it would do him. Had stopped thinking about those 'side benefits' the second Ludwig had glared at him the first time.

Ludwig did, indeed, seem miles out of reach.

When he tested the last windows, in the small kitchen, Ludwig seemed to have slumped a bit more yet, and looked a little disheartened by the time Alfred came to a standstill in front of him. Ludwig shifted a little under his stare, but, hell, Ludwig should have thought about how awkward it might be before he had forced Alfred inside.

Ludwig may have regretted by then relenting and being weak, but it was too late to change his mind.

Perhaps to make things less horrifically awkward, Ludwig lifted his chin and uttered, deeply, "I suppose...I should start dinner."

Alfred lifted his brow and must have looked a bit bored, for Ludwig narrowed his eyes when Alfred replied, swiftly, "So start. No need to tell me what you're doing. Just pretend I'm not here. I'm your shadow—that's all. Ignore me. You've been good at that up until right now."

He didn't mean to be an ass, he really didn't, but Ludwig made it easy to be aggressive, with that haughty air of superiority he exuded. Ludwig was prissy, condescending, bitchy and moody, and Alfred responded to that by being even more obnoxious.

They would be butting heads frequently, that was for sure, but Alfred couldn't say he was looking forward to it.

Ludwig didn't snip back that time, though, maybe just too tired from his screaming match with Gilbert, and wearily ambled off into the kitchen. Alfred just moved over to the corner and leaned into the shadows, as Ludwig began bustling about.

Didn't like the look of these living room windows. Didn't seem secure enough, now that he had seen the size and strength of the threat, or at least one of them.

Unease.

It suddenly occurred to Alfred, the more he looked around, that this house didn't exactly seem...well. Didn't seem like it was really just Ludwig's. It was perfectly immaculate, as clean and sterile as a hospital, and yet didn't seem exactly as cold as Ludwig. Had a homey air about it, and that was because Alfred noticed little things, here and there. Difference scents. A pair of dress shoes by the door that looked far too large to be Ludwig's. Two spots on the sofa were worn down, not just one. Someone lived here or had lived here, someone that wasn't Ludwig, and even though they weren't visible that atmosphere remained.

He turned to glance at Ludwig through the kitchen frame, and meant to ask, 'Who else lives here with you?' He stopped short, though, because as he hung over the stove Ludwig's head was completely dropped. Thought maybe his shoulders shook from time to time.

If Ludwig was having a breakdown, then Alfred didn't want to know, and stayed silent.

Some other time.

Minutes passed, and Alfred pulled a notepad out of his pocket and started scribbling away things he needed to fix up and keep an eye on. Just something to do so he wouldn't go crazy.

The house was rather small, all things considered. Ludwig, as much as with his clothing, didn't seem to share his brother's love of luxury. Ludwig used the subway, and lived in a very modest home. Not the smallest, nah, but certainly normal. Two bedrooms, two stories. Just a normal house. By the window in the living room sat a closed piano.

Windows—needed to replace a few locks. Would like some bars, maybe, but that would have been a fire hazard.

Doors—pretty secure. Good bolts on the front. The back was iffy.

Bedroom—a wonderful place that was off-limits, because that aroma was far too nice.

Legs—

Wait.

A bit off track there, for a moment, Alfred would admit, but those legs really were spectacular, and he found himself glancing at them frequently as Ludwig began cooking.

Hated seeing him looking so down, though, even if he was a jerk.

He zoned out for a while, contemplating Ludwig's mystery housemate.

Those shoes.

A call startled him out of his thoughts.

"Come eat."

Alfred looked over, to see Ludwig staring at him, and it was becoming clear to him that Ludwig had meant that he should start dinner for two.

Odd.

As much as a client had never invited him inside, they sure as hell hadn't ever made him dinner. Oh, Ludwig. Stubborn, unusual thing. Alfred hated Ludwig, but at the same time had already grown a little angrily fond of him. Something he had just never encountered before. Had never met someone exactly like Ludwig, and just didn't know what to think or feel.

He was hungry, though, wasn't gonna lie, so when Ludwig repeated, more impatiently, "Come eat," Alfred just heaved a sigh and trudged over. Pretended to be irritated about it, but he wasn't exactly. Always looked forward to food, for sure, even if it was from someone that elicited such mixed emotions.

When he sat and looked around Alfred felt once more a little out of place, because the food on the table was utterly out of Alfred's league, so to speak. Didn't even know what the hell it was. Ludwig had grown up in wealth, standing, power, class, and Alfred was a little country bumpkin out of place. He was protecting Ludwig, but felt more like Ludwig saw him as a smudge of dirt. Oceans between them in terms of social standing. Alfred would never be able to compare.

Smelled good at least, whatever it was, and Ludwig was staring holes through him, perhaps knowing his hesitations.

A bottle of wine in the center of the small but expensive dining table.

To break the ice and look less a fool, Alfred asked, offhandedly, "You moonlight as a chef or something?"

Ludwig finally released his potent gaze, and sat down himself, grabbing a glass and pouring the wine.

A low, rumbling mutter.

"Just a hobby. Stress relief. I like to cook. It takes my mind off of things temporarily."

Right.

Well. Alfred was always one to appreciate someone with domestic skills, because god knew he didn't have any, and was extremely impressed, if not a little intimidated.

When Ludwig set the wine glasses and instigated the meal by grabbing his fork, Alfred followed suit, studying Ludwig and trying to mimic his posture and actions. Just for his own ego. Hated looking like a moron, even if he kinda was at times.

Ludwig knew it, so Alfred didn't know why he bothered.

Dinner was quiet, a little awkward, as Alfred stared at Ludwig and Ludwig avoided eye contact, but wow—the food was spectacular. That was a surprise, if not a pleasant one. Maybe he really would get those 'benefits' after all, and if it was in this food then so be it. Damn good enough, and Alfred had long since been a beggar. Didn't care much for the wine, though, and maybe that was pleasing to Ludwig because the bastard had already drank nearly the entire bottle by himself.

A deep flush of splotched red on Ludwig's pale cheeks.

No doubt Ludwig needed alcohol to handle having Alfred in his house, and Alfred let him have that one, although he would rather have Ludwig sober at all times in case of a sudden threat.

So quiet.

Forks scraping and a clock ticking somewhere from within the living room.

After a long silence, Ludwig finally lifted his head, exhaled, and said, almost begrudgingly, "I apologize for earlier. I was a bit upset. It wasn't my intent to take it out on you."

He said 'sorry', but from the look on Ludwig's face and the tone of his voice, Alfred knew that he wasn't really sorry at all and just felt it was his duty in good conscience to apologize.

Like with everything else, Alfred took what he could get.

So Alfred scoffed, resumed eating, and muttered, "Why are you apologizing? Think I'm not used to it? Happens all the time. Following someone around for a living doesn't exactly make me popular." Ludwig sneered a little, no doubt without even realizing it, and Alfred carried on, trying to calm the situation before he accidentally escalated it again. "Anyway, you invited me in and made me dinner. I'd say that long since made up for anything you may have done. Let's just call it even, alright?"

Too damn tired to fight with Ludwig anymore tonight, and didn't want to piss him off because he still had to interrogate the bastard now that he had him pinned down.

Ludwig stared away at Alfred, seemed surprised, but all the same Alfred thought that Ludwig might have relaxed a little then. Good. Hadn't come here to make the kid miserable, nor himself. Just wanted to do his job and try to find a reason to carry on.

A while later, Ludwig glanced up once more and said, perhaps without thinking, "You look different without the glasses."

Alfred snorted, and ran a hand through his messy hair egotistically. Ludwig rolled his eyes, shook his head, and seemed to regret ever opening his mouth.

But the mood was a little better.

The time seemed right, then, with Ludwig plowing through another glass of wine, leaving the bottle empty at last, and so Alfred finally asked.

"So," Alfred began, when Ludwig set the empty glass down, "Ludwig. What's the story, huh? Why am I protecting you, and who from? Kinda important for me to know."

That constantly condescending look faded quite quickly enough when Ludwig inhaled and his bleary eyes snapped up to pin Alfred down in a second. Alfred lifted his chin, quite proud of himself for breaking that icy composure although he had no right to be.

Faded instantly, at that strange expression on Ludwig's face.

Ah, hell. Not the time or place to be proud of startling Ludwig. Not after everything that had happened tonight.

A long, piercing stare, and then Ludwig quickly gathered himself, lowered his eyes back down to the empty glass, and grumbled, deeply, "Gilbert didn't tell you."

"No. Said you would fill me in."

A scoff.

Ludwig glowered away at nothing, face red and looking strangely angry and yet also extremely nervous. Looked quite vulnerable in that instant, and once more Alfred pitied him.

Alfred waited and waited, but Ludwig just didn't speak. Had to force it out of him, apparently, and Alfred hoped, above all else, that it wasn't going to be anything he didn't want to hear.

Hadn't his luck been bad enough?

Alfred finished off his own single glass of wine in one long chug, hunkered down, steeled his resolve and face, and commenced the interrogation.

Ludwig just looked like he had been thrown into an icy sea.

Alfred hated that, too.