Alfred was escorted by Kirkland to the bath down the hall. The water was already drawn. Steam hovered over the massive porcelain tub. Placed on the nearby counter top were several neatly folded towels. Without words, Arthur undid Alfred's night gown. Weary and mind numb, Jones did not protest as the gown fell away leaving him nude.

"Step into the bath, careful. Hold onto me, if you must." Said Kirkland, soft.

The youth moved slowly, clinging to the other for support. He lowered himself into the hot water. The warmth, making him shiver.

"Too hot?" Asked the Englishman, kneeling.

Alfred let go, settling in the tub as he shook his head.

Kirkland stared at the delirious man in-front of him, fondly. With gentleness, he stroked his cheek. The touch was alarming at first, but, a few moments later it brought Alfred comfort.

"I was waiting to speak with you more."

"Why?"

"I find you rather, intriguing." Arthur said, taking back his hand. "I want to know more about you."

"I don't know much about myself, sorry to disappoint." Spoke Alfred, in sarcasm. "Why are you so interested in, me? Wouldn't you have more in common with Braginski?"

"I hate that man."

"I'm not too keen of him either, but, he fought with me." The blue eyed man ran a hand through his hair.

Kirkland exhaled deeply.

"Yes, I read and according to your papers you were both contained together for over twenty years."

"T-twenty years?"

Alfred gasped.

"Yes. Braginski was held for seventy five years, with multiply cell mates. All of which turned out to be human, frozen for science or whatnot. They all passed away during the barbaric training process. By law, if an individual was born before the war and still alive, soulless or not, you are property of the state."

"Isn't there a way to test people without beating the shit out of them?"

"Now there is, but, it is recent technology. Many of the less advanced facilities, such as the one you came from, still test the old fashioned way."

"How can people allow things like that to exist?!" Blurted Alfred, angered. "Freedom is for everyone, what happened to human rights?"

Arthur chuckled.

"Freedom? Rights? The United States of America no longer exists, Mr. Jones. Most of the world is wasteland, un-inhabitable. Only a single nation remains, one created after the war, Euphenas. Which, is currently ruled by Queen Natalia Arlovskaya. " The Englishman, rolled his eyes. "She claims to be a goddess."

"People believe her?"

"A vast majority. Queen Natalia Arlovskaya aged into an old woman and was on her death bed, centuries ago. However, her physical appearance rapidly decreased back into that of a youth. She has been yo-yoing back and forth for two-hundred years, give or take." Arthur explained, standing. "I believe she is using some sort of it may be, it is not natural. But, who am I to say what is natural and what is not?"

Just outside the bathroom door, Ivan had been listening closely. The Russian walked back to his room and sat upon the bed, relieved his comrade had awaken and determined to learn more of this "New World."

Over the following week and a half, Kirkland had his new properties tutored, before their introduction to his son. Although, the Russian did not seem like the scholar type, he excelled at learning. At the end of his studies he had gone far beyond his tutors teachings, learning on his own accord. Jones, however, struggled immensely.

"Ugh, I give up." Groaned Alfred. He tossed his pencil and slouched down in his chair. "Why is this necessary to look after a snot-nosed kid?"

Ivan chuckled from across the room.

"Shall we take a break from our studies?" He stood and walked to Alfred's desk. Leaning close to his ear, he spoke in a whisper,"It is nearly dinner. He hates when you are late. After-all, you are his favorite pet."

The Russian's husky voice made Alfred shiver. He shoved him aside and got up from his seat.

"I hate dinner. He always asks me a billion questions about every little part of my day and then lectures me." Jones grumbled.

"It amuses me." Ivan hummed, walking out the bedroom door.

Alfred hurried after him down the hallway, tightening his tie quickly as he walked.

"Are you going to even eat?"

"No." Said Braginski.

"You have not eaten at all since we got here." Spoke Alfred, his voice soft. He caught the larger man by his empty shirt sleeve. "I know you are starving. Even if it will not kill you...your skin and bones. I do not mind helping you eat."

Ivan stopped and slammed Alfred against the wall using his shoulder to pin him their.

"Nyet." He hissed. "I will not degrade myself any farther. If you keep pressing the issue, I will devour you."

"Then suffer!" Snarled Alfred, pushing the man away. "See if I care."

Angry, he hurried down the steps to the dining room. An amazing spread of food sprawled the length of the long table. It was lined with several oak chairs. Arthur already was at his seat at the far end, hands laced under his chin.

"You are late."

Jones rolled his eyes and exhaled deeply.

"Sorry." He said, taking his assigned seat to Kirkland's right. "I lost track of time."

"Good evening Master Kirkland." Cooed Ivan.

"Mr. Branginski." Arthur nodded, glaring. "Unusual for you to join us. Shall I call for someone to come feed you?" He said with a cruel grin.

"Not necessary."

The Russian's eye twitched, teeth clenched. He sat at the opposite end of the table, watching the two intensely.

"Suit yourself." Said Kirkland, cutting off a slab of meat and placing it onto the plate before Alfred. "Toby arrives in the morning. I have planed an outing for all three of you, sort of a meet and greet. I have a two day trip and leave at noon tomorrow, so, you will be in charge til my return, Mr. Jones."

"Okay." Alfred said. The young blonde looked down at his plate, guilt ridden for eating in front of the Russian. He shoved it away. "I'm not feeling very hungry."

"Eat. Or I will hand feed you." Warned Arthur, moving the plate back into place.

Jones'cheeks went red, cramming a roll into his mouth.

"Where, um, are we going?"

"There is a festival happening at the fairgrounds."

"It is celebration for the Queen's Birthday, da?" Braginski chimed in, his mauve gaze fixed to Kirkland.

"Yes." Arthur nodded, glaring back. "You both will need tagged to go out in a public place."

"Tagged?" Alfred asked, playing with his fork. ". . .like, cattle?"

"Yes. In the left ear lobe."

"You gotta be kidding."

"If I may ask, Mr. Kirkland, what is the purpose of your, trip?" Braginski, inquired.

"Business." The Englishman said bluntly. "None of which concerns you, Mr. Braginski."

"Oh, I see."

Jones sat in quiet discomfort and sighed.

"A-anyway, uh, Mr. Kirkla-"

"Arthur." He corrected.

"Yeah, Arthur, how was your day?" Alfred asked, trying to keep the peace.

"Productive." The man responded, with a slight smile. "And your's? How are you doing with your studies?"

"Well, not so great. I really suck at history."

"I can private tutor you, afterall, I am a part of history." Kirkland said, taking a bite of his roast beef. "I am sure you would learn a plethora more from myself, than, the crippled soviet."

Ivan chuckled, in irritation, wishing he had the hands to wring the Brit's neck.

"H-hey, Braginski is a great teacher. Its my fault, I just have trouble focusing."

"Focusing?" Repeated Arthur, dropping his utensils and looking over at the youth in concern. "Vision wise? Are your eyes worsening? Your prescription is already quite high, but, perhaps, I can find you a surgeon."

"What? NO! Calm down, my eyes are fine." Spoke Alfred. However, he did not know his eyes sucked that bad. "I can see 100% with my glasses."

"Good."

Kirkland relaxed. They both finished their meal in silence, partly due to Braginski's relentless staring. Alfred devoured his plate first and stood.

"May I be excused?"

"You may." Arthur nodded, dabbing a napkin to his lips. "Escort Mr. Braginski with you. His presence is sickening me."