Under the pleasant cradle of the warm velvet throw, Alfred immersed into slumber. Dreams, he would not remember when he awoke, twisted around his subconscious mind. Daybreak came, then ended. Two weeks passed, before a sweet gravelly voice broke through. Quickly, the comfort of the black void faded and the troubles of reality resurfaced themselves.

Crusted eyes opened unto a red blind of blanket. Alfred turned, moving it aside.

Dressed in fine clothing and hair neatly groomed, was none other than Ivan. He sat at the edge of the mattress, letting his dark colored blazer slide from his shoulders.

"So now you are awake?" Said the pale Russian. "It has been weeks."

Alfred's body was stiff, he struggled to sit himself up.

"What?" He spoke hoarsely, his breath stale. "That long?"

"Yes. There were several attempts to wake you, but, you remained unresponsive. The man who bought us ordered everyone to let you sleep til you awoke on your own. For one reason or another, he has taken a liking to you."

"oh." Alfred whispered. "H-how are you, um, feeling?"

"I have no arms, how is it you think I am feeling? Even simple things I cannot do, I must be waited on for everything. If hell exists, I am there."

"Let me help." Said Alfred, deliriously. He was shaking. "Are you trying to get undressed?" Asked the American, he reached out and began to undo Ivan's button down shirt.

Ivan lowered his head.

"I should tell him you are awake." He pulled away and went for the door. "You look not so good, you should relax."

Down a long corridor, there was a room with a light on. Ivan kicked open the door, smashing the vase that previously sat on a small end-table. It now laid in pieces across the pasley rug. The Englishman sat at a large desk, back turned. He went still.

"Braginski." Grumbled Arthur, spinning about. "And what do I owe the pleasure?"

Ivan's eyes were dark and villainous.

"He has awaken."

Kirkland's demeanor changed instantly. He stood and walked hastily to the bedroom. The recently awoken young man sat rubbing his face. Arthur took the glass of water that sat on the dresser and sat next to him.

"Drink this." He said softly.

Alfred took it, cautiously, taking a few small sips. He coughed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"You alright?" Asked Kirkland, smoothing down the youth's messed hair. "I was concerned you would not awaken. It is very common for soulless to hibernate, sometimes, for decades. Especially, after traumatic experiences."

"You are what we are, yes?" Ivan said. "That is why you have taken a liking to Alfred."

Arthur did not respond right away.

"I am." He sighed.

The Russian chuckled.

"You say we were bought for your son, why have we not met the boy?"

"As we are, he is also a soulless." Explained the Englishman. "However, Toby is different. He often hibernates and has not matured in hundreds of years. Whenever he awakes from his deep sleep, he is a blank slate and has to relearn everything all over again."

"Is he asleep now?" Asked Ivan.

"No. I sent him off to a sitter for a few weeks." Kirkland said, casting a glare at the man. "However, when he does fall into hibernation, I promise, I will free you both. The reason I have not allowed him to be near you, is you, Mr. Braginski. Since your arrival, you have nearly killed me twice and have broken twenty antique vases."

"All accidents." Shrugged Ivan.

"Right." Spat the angry Englishman. "Now that Mr. Jones is awake, I will allow you both to start your duties and meet the boy. He will be thrilled. God help us all."