AN: I don't own it, alright?! I know you THINK I DO! BUT I DON'T'! *sobs horribly*

anyway….chapter dedicated to the coming of Revolutions on DVD…

Chapter XXXI: Mister Merovingian

The moment the Merovingian walks in, I can see the triumph in his eyes. The triumphant sneer, knowing that I need him, that I need his help of all people. He looks down at me from above his long, pointed nose.

"Oui?" He asks.

I look back up at him and sigh, "We need your help?"

"We?" He asks with a smirk, looking around, "Where is the 'we'? I see only 'I'."

"That is why we need your help."

He nods, and then pulls a chair over to sit in front of me, leaning over, "Why should I help you? You ran from me…"

"We ran from you because you were going to delete us for failure. We're not that foolish," I try and hide the contempt from my voice as I speak, though it's hard to hide both disgust and contempt at the same time. The result is a little of both shows through.

"I suppose that is a reasonable excuse…."

"It's not an excuse." I respond.

"Oh," He cocks a curious eyebrow, the infuriating smirk widening on his face. I feel my hand twitch, and the switchblade in my pocket becomes all the more noticeable, "Then what was it?"

"It was a survival measure."

He laughs, "I see. Of course not. The mighty Twins, making excuses. Why would they do such a thing? It is beyond my comprehension…"

"As are many things," I reply sarcastically.

"What was that? Do you forget that you should be insulting your rescuer?"

My hands ball into fists behind my back and my teeth clench, glaring at him from behind my sunglasses, which I am very thankful for.

"We're….sorry…" I mutter with a  snarl.

"What was that?"

"SORRY." I spit at him.

He brings his clasped hands up and rests his head in his thumbs, "That's better. Now, what is wrong with your brother?"

"…Do you know how we were created?"

"Yes. Human-based. Like myself and Persephone, except we were willing."

"The…..the other…..the human that we were created from….our self and One…they have….resurfaced."

"I didn't know that was possible," He looks to the side as if calculating something, "Continue." 

"The one…we were created upon…resurfaced and was taken out of our programming, then reinserted."

"So it would be possible for you to meet him?"

"We did. That is not the problem."

"Of course not. You could kill him and be done with it," He shrugs, and then leans back in his chair and crosses his arms across his chest.

"The human within One has taken complete control of our brother's body."

The Frenchman's eyebrow raise, and he laughs, "Ah. You want me to delete the program and bring your brother back?"

"Precisely."

My former master stands up, "Very well. I will fix your brother's programming."

I look up at him, almost expectantly.

"For a price."

"Of course. You do little for free."

He chuckles, "Yes, I do not. You will tell me everything you know of human-based programming and bring me the reinserted human you were created from."

I didn't even need to think about that before agreeing, "Deal."

"Very well. Now, let us locate your brother so we may save him."

He leads me upstairs to his room. I've never been inside of it, but as I now go I realize it was nothing special. Three laptops hooked up together, two large CPUs, a lavish king-sized bed, the usual manor-style king's bedroom.

He sits in front of the middle laptop and I stand behind him. With skill not even Thompson displayed, his fingers whirl on the two keyboards full, one a standard keyboard and the other in which I recognize only a few keys at all.

"He's right there," He comments, pointing to a small flashing character. I recognize it as One's, and next to it is Adrian, "And I think that's the human we're looking for," His finger slides to the character representing the boy.

"It is." I agree. With several more clicks, he widens the map.

"Go to 8th and 20th east Streets. That's where he is. And take this," He passes me a syringe, "I'll put the human to sleep so you can take him here. And here's a key to the Chateau." He tosses the silver key to me, which I slide into my pocket.

"One will not go with us."

"Then take another syringe," He responds, opening a draw and tossing it to me, "And make sure he doesn't prick you with those."

"Of course."

Carefully placing them into my other pocket, I phase out and to the Chateau entrance, sliding the key into the lock, into the corridor. A random door leads me to a street, which the sign says 30th east. Not too far.

I take a deep breath, "Forgive me, One," I mutter softly to myself, before beginning to push through the crowd.