Something is wrong.

Yuri wonders at the wisdom behind asking him to look after Anya for the day- his sister must have lost her mind.

He's never been good with kids.

They ask weird questions. They can't stop talking.

But he knows the transition to a new country has been hard for her and so he makes an effort.

For his sister, of course.

Anything for his sister.

Anya has stopped eating her ice cream cone. She's jittery, which is pretty characteristic for her, but he notices the way her eyes dart this way and that.

She doesn't seem antsy. She seems afraid.

Yuri gives the area a cursory look, but he spots no one suspicious.

"What's wrong?" he asks, his own cone momentarily forgotten.

"Uh…" Anya jolts, looking up at him with wide eyes. "I don't know."

"Did you see anything?" he presses.

Anya shakes her head, face scrunched up in what can only be frustration.

Yuri takes a deep breath and tries hard not to be frustrated himself. "Okay," he says slowly. He doesn't know why her behavior has him on edge.

She's no older than five.

Of course she would be uncomfortable in unfamiliar surroundings.

He shouldn't be all that concerned about this.

So why is he?

He feels on edge, his skin prickling.

Anya has pressed closer to him, fingers gripping his sleeve.

Whether or not danger is actually present, he decides the best course of action is to leave the area.

He stands, holding Anya's hand.

Even though he's told himself that it's nothing, he can't help the way his eyes scan the crowd, searching for any sign of danger.

Anya is practically glued to his side, all of her exuberance from before has been bled from her. "Uncle Yuri," she whispers.

He glances at her, but she doesn't say anything else. "What's wrong?" he asks again and she shakes her head.

"I don't know."

"How can there be something wrong if you don't know?" It's getting harder to remain patient and, if he's being honest, he's feeling uneasy himself. Once again, he scans the crowd, but no one leaps out at him.

Nothing screams danger at him.

"I don't want to be here anymore," Anya murmurs, voice shaky.

"Okay." Yuri doesn't want to be here much either. He tosses the cone in a nearby garbage can, no longer interested. "Let's go."

He takes her hand and starts walking, slowing his pace when he realizes Anya is tripping over herself to keep up with him.

Something catches Yuri's attention in his peripheral vision.

A man, several yards to the left. He's not exactly moving towards them, but with them with enough deliberation for Yuri to determine it's intentional.

He's scoping them out.

And if he's comfortable enough to be this open about it with all these people around them, then that isn't good… Yuri picks up the pace, just subtly enough that he hopes it won't seem like they're running, pulling Anya along beside him.

She's gone completely mute at his side, eyes wide and staring straight ahead.

Yuri wonders just how it is that she seemed so certain of their danger, how it is that she still seems completely aware of how bad their situation is, but now isn't an appropriate time to wonder.

It's just one man… I can easily avoid him if it comes to that.

There's no cause for him to be as worried as he is about this. He's overreacting and for no good reason.

Or so he tries to tell himself.

The feeling of unease persists and, so far, the man has not stopped tailing them.

They're in an area that has far less people now, which means less potential witnesses.

Yuri clenches his jaw so tightly it aches.

This isn't good. It's not good at all.

Anya shrieks as she's torn away from him.

"Hey-!" A blow to the jaw has him staggering backwards, stars exploding in his face. Before he can regain his bearings, another fist is thrust into his stomach.

He grunts, folding over, but throws his arm up in time to block the next strike. He straightens, throwing his attacker back, then delivers an elbow to the throat.

An arm is hooked around his neck, dragging him back.

Yuri chokes, scrabbling at the arm that holds him, and, as he's dragged back, he catches sight of Anya.

A man in a black suit is dragging her back, a hand over her mouth preventing her from crying out.

Seeing that awakens something in him, a protective fury he didn't know he possessed for anyone aside from his sister.

That's his niece.

"Let her go!" Snarling, he drives both his elbows into his assailant's gut. The man grunts, winded, and stumbles back.

Yuri pivots, intent on stopping Anya and her abductor.

His eyes narrow. "You…" That's as far he gets before something hits him and his muscles seize, locked in place. His vision goes white.

He drops like a stone.

What just happened?

His body is no longer his own. He lies there, spasming, unable to move under his own power.

A man stands over him, lips twitching. In his hand, he holds a still sparking rod.

Yuri's mouth opens, but no sound comes out.

Bastard, he thinks, furious even as he panics. Bastard. Bastard. Bastard.

"Take this one too," the man decides after mulling it over for an agonizing second. "He may be able to lead us to the Thorn Princess. And, if not, there's a sizable reward for his capture. We'll be sure to collect."

He's grabbed under the armpits and hauled upright.

His legs are jelly underneath him, his head lolls forward. He's incapable of carrying himself, of fighting back, of saving Anya.

He's dragged forward, thrown onto the floor of a van.

Small hands touch his face. "Uncle Yuri…"

The doors are slammed shut with an eerie note of finality, plunging them both into darkness.

/

Yuri twitches, slowly peeling his eyes open.

Bright lights are focused on him from above.

He flinches away from them, an action that only makes his already terrible headache worse. He shifts and finds that he's laid out flat against a metal table, wrists and ankles pinned down. He's been stripped of his shoes and outer garments. His stomach twists at the thought of anyone touching him while unconscious and vulnerable.

His skull feels like someone has split it down the middle.

Yuri moans, riding through a wave of pain. Bile rises in his throat. He fights to swallow it back down.

If he vomits now, he'll choke on it and suffocate.

Instead, he keeps his eyes shut and focuses on breathing, hoping it will clear the fog that surrounds his thoughts.

He's almost surprised to find himself somewhere other than Ostania- he's certain that turning him in will earn these men a substantial reward, so why haven't they?

And what have they taken Anya for?

She's not in the room with him and that fills him with more fear than he thought he could possibly feel for anyone who wasn't his sister.

Where is she?

They could be doing any number of things to her and he's helpless to stop it.

A door opens to his right and a woman steps through, wearing a white lab coat. Her brunette hair is wound tightly into a bun atop her head, thick framed glasses perched primly on her nose, and she carries a clipboard and pencil.

Not once does she lift her head to look at him as she crosses the room to where he lies immobilized.

"Where's Anya?"

"That's irrelevant." She takes a seat in front of him, crossing her legs.

Yuri is feeling more and more like an insect on display.

"Where is she?!" He lurches against the restraints, but they hold firm. He grinds his teeth, thrashing fruitlessly, before going slack, breaths heavy.

He's only succeeded in kicking his headache up a few notches.

"Irrelevant." The woman sighs, scrawling something across the paper before flipping the page.

She casts him an annoyed look, as though she's the one being wronged here.

Yuri grinds his teeth.

How dare she? How dare she?

"You think you can…?"

"Yuri Briar," she cuts him off, expression fixed, voice monotonous. "Obtaining you was never part of our plan. However, as it happens, there's a sizable reward on your head. However," she approaches him, pressing her palm down on his shoulder.

Yuri's skin prickles.

She keeps her hand there, brows furrowed as she studies him, like she's documenting his discomfort.

Finally, she removes her hand.

"The interesting part, though, is that the reward can only be earned by handing you over alive."

Dread curls in his stomach. He knows exactly why he's wanted alive.

His death isn't enough.

Ludendorff wants to be the one to carry it out or, at the very least, wants to be there in order to see it for himself.

He shudders, letting his head fall back. His chest heaves with each labored breath.

He'd loved that man like a father, once.

Yuri inhales shakily. He doesn't have the luxury of dwelling on this right now.

"Where is she?" he asks again, voice hoarse.

He doesn't expect an answer. He simply wants to keep her distracted.

He runs the fingers of one hand along the length of the leather cuff, feeling it out. There's a chance he could find his way out of it.

The woman eyes him. "Surely you realize that asking again won't get you the answer you're looking for," she says, sighing heavily. She uncrosses her legs and sits forward, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "The girl is safely back with us where she belongs. You don't need to worry about her."

"What do you mean back…?" Yuri trails off, his mind spinning with all the possibilities.

Loid had adopted her from an orphanage, but her origins before that were an unknown. It's not something Anya herself had seemed keen on sharing with anyone either.

Just what does his young niece have hidden in her history?

But the woman tells him nothing. Instead, she changes the subject. "Perhaps you are expecting torture or worse from us," she says offhandedly, "but I assure you, we care only for the reward money being offered for your return to Ostania's secret service and have no intentions of making your stay with us anything less than comfortable."

"Comfortable," he sneers, jerking at the bindings. "Are these your idea of comfortable?"

It's laughable, really- the idea that people who would abduct a child would care anything for his comfort.

She smiles sardonically. "Compared to what I suspect your secret service will do to you once you've been handed over to them? Yes."

He snarls, but she remains unperturbed. "I'll leave you then," she says, patting his shoulder again.

"So that's it?" he challenges. "You've made your social call and you're just going to leave?"

She turns to smile unkindly at him. "This wasn't a social call," is all she says.

Once she's gone, he falls back against the slab. More deliberately, he feels his way around the straps at his wrists.

There's some give to them- not enough for him to work his hands out the way they are, but if he can dislocate his thumb, he may just have a chance.

He strains at the straps around his wrists, the leather chafing his skin. He twists till he feels his thumb pop out of place.

He can't entirely stifle the sound he makes from somewhere deep in his throat and, for a moment, he simply lies there, eyes closed, breathing heavily.

But he doesn't have time for this.

Anya needs him.

He grits his teeth and works his hand out of the strap. It's a tight squeeze and the pain makes his vision flash white, but he gets himself free. Immediately, he reaches over and fumbles with the second strap. It takes him several tries, but he eventually manages to get it unlatched.

Once he's free, he slides off the table and cautiously approaches the door. His hand is throbbing, but he pushes it to the back of his mind. He tries the knob.

Predictably, it doesn't open.

He hisses from between clenched teeth. He'd been strapped down. They hadn't expected him to be going anywhere. Couldn't they have been just a little sloppy with everything else?

And while he rots in here, they could be doing anything to Anya.

"Damnit!" He rears back, raising his foot.

No. Think.

Taking his frustration out on the door won't get him anywhere. If anything, he might alert whatever guards are nearby that he's free of his restraints and then he'll no longer have the element of surprise.

Subtlety and patience have never been his strongest qualities- something Yor had been more than willing to overlook- but he's going to need them now more than ever.

He tries the door again. It's heavy-duty and he's not going to be able to break out of it. Nor does he have any means of picking the lock.

He steps to the side and presses his back against the wall. He takes a deep breath, readying himself.

When the door opens, he lunges, aiming for the throat. He needs to take them down fast and hard if he's to have a chance at getting out.

His arm is caught before he makes contact. He grunts as his arm is twisted and he's slammed back against the wall. An arm across his throat pins him in place.

And then- "Yuri!" The arm releases him and he folds over, sucking in a ragged breath.

A hand on his throat, he lifts his head. "Yor?"

His sister stares at him, bewildered. "How did you…?" Her expression hardens and she grabs his arm. "Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"

"I'm fine." His throat still feels tender. No matter what, he'll never grow used to his sister's strength. "Where's Loid?"

And Anya…

"We split up," Yor explains. She takes Yuri's hand and pulls him along behind her. In her other hand, she clutches one of her gold stilettos. The expression on her face promises murder to anyone foolish enough to get between her and her family. "He's searching for Anya."

They step over a body lying sprawled in a puddle of rapidly congealing blood. Several more lie ahead of them. For the first time, Yuri notices the flecks of blood on his sister's face and stiletto.

Yor doesn't spare the bodies more than a passing glance, her expression hard.

Yuri does his best not to look at them. He's no stranger to bodies, but knowing that his sweet sister was the one who did this? He's had time to come to terms with her being the Thorn Princess, but knowing is entirely different from seeing her in action.

He loses track of how many corridors they pass through. His head is pounding terribly and it's all too easy to hand the reins over to his sister.

They round another corner and Yor stops short, raising her stiletto.

Yuri collides with her back with a grunt. For someone with such a slight figure, she's a brick wall when it counts.

He cups his nose, eyes watering.

Yor drops her defensive posture. "Loid…" she breathes.

Yuri opens his eyes.

Loid stands there, face slack with relief. "Yor-" he breathes.

In one hand, he clutches a gun that he now lowers. By his side, there's a large, fluffy white dog.

That… gives him pause.

He doesn't remember them having a dog. He has no idea where the dog has come from.

But still, there's a dog.

Yuri doesn't have time to think about the dog because Anya is cradled in his arms, her face buried in his shoulders.

The reassurance Yuri feels at seeing her whole and unharmed is insurmountable.

Loid visibly wilts when he sees them. "Yor-" he breathes.

Anya lifts her head, staring at them with wide eyes. "Mama!"

"Anya!" Yor releases Yuri and takes her daughter, holding her close while tears stream down her face. "Oh, Anya!"

He steps closer, ruffling her hair, and so very, very thankful that she's alright.

She lifts her head again. She smiles at him and, though it's a little wobbly, it still feels impossibly good to see that she's still smiling.

And Yuri manages to smile himself.

"Are they…?" Loid begins.

"All dead," Yor finishes grimly.

He acknowledges her with a nod. "I've already secured our exit. We're going to burn this place to the ground."

"That sounds," Yuri surprises himself by interjecting by just how earnest he is, "like the best plan you've ever had."

The sooner this place doesn't exist, the sooner he can rest easy.

Except Loid is looking at him now, concerned.

Yuri flushes.

"You're…"

"I'm fine," Yuri cuts him off brusquely. He simply spent an uncomfortable few hours strapped to a table. He's an adult. He can walk it off.

Anya is who their energy should be focused on.

But he doesn't say anything when Loid chooses to walk beside him on the way out.

/

Their little apartment doesn't feel safe anymore.

Yuri knows he isn't the only one who feels this way. It's evident in the grim looks Yor and Loid exchange with each other.

Anya refuses to be parted from Yor, who is devoting her time to stress baking a batch of cookies.

Loid is digging up what he can on the men who abducted them. So far he hasn't shared anything with them.

Which leaves Yuri with the dog.

The dog's name is Bond, according to Anya. He's not exactly sure what a dog was doing in that place, but it can't have been anything good.

He sits on the floor with his back against the wall. The dog seems to have taken to him pretty quickly. He lies beside him, resting his head on his thigh. He's large enough that his thigh is starting to go numb, but, so far, Yuri hasn't had the heart to ask him to leave.

One of his hands rests on the dog's head and he quietly strokes his fur.

He should have protected Anya.

This has only become more clear to him the more time he spends thinking on it.

His sister had trusted him and he failed her.

Failed both of them.

Shame curdles in his gut and he clenches his fist still down by his side.

Bond sighs deeply, peering up at Yuri from beneath his thick bangs.

"What?" Yuri stares back. He gives it up almost immediately, feeling ridiculous for challenging a dog, and lets his head fall back against the wall.

"Yuri?" Yor stands over him, Anya still in her arms. She sits carefully beside him. Her arm brushes his and he tenses, refusing to look at her.

"You must think I'm a terrible babysitter," he whispers.

Yor doesn't say anything and Yuri cringes, knowing she must be thinking the same thing he is.

Then, she puts her hand on his shoulder. "Yuri… I know you tried," she says carefully. "I'm glad nothing worse happened and that you're both safe."

Anya squirms in Yor's arms, reaching out to throw her arms around his neck. "I'm not mad at you," she sniffs.

Yuri awkwardly pats her shoulder as she crawls into his lap and Bond shifts to accommodate her. Comforting is still an action that feels foreign to him, though he likes to think that he's gotten better at it.

Yor joins in, sliding an arm around his shoulder and tugging him against her. Yuri allows his eyes to slide closed. He's always felt most at ease when with his sister. That's something that has never changed.

They stay like that until Loid finds them.

Yor lifts her head. "Loid…?"

He settles himself on Yor's other side. He doesn't immediately speak.

Finally, Anya says timidly, "The bad guys are gone?"

Loid takes a deep breath. "They won't be coming for you again." He sounds utterly spent, but his expression is hard when he adds, "I promise."

"What did they want with Anya?" Yor asks quietly.

Anya cringes against Yuri and he tightens his arm around her.

Loid takes a deep breath. "They specialized in unethical and clandestine operations." He pauses. "On both humans and animals."

Yuri's stomach twists.

"So they…?" Yor can't finish the question.

"I'm sorry!" Anya buries her face in her hands, catching them all by surprise.

"Anya? What do you have to be sorry for, baby?" Yor reaches out, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

She doesn't lift her head, mumbling into her hands. "For keeping a secret."

There's a knot in Yuri's throat now. He thinks back to the events leading up to their abduction.

Anya had been aware of the danger before even he was.

"You knew they were coming, didn't you?" he asks.

She nods, still not lifting her head.

"I heard their thoughts." Now, she raises her head, staring straight at her parents, eyes wide and tearful. "Please don't hate me!"

"Hate…?" Loid begins.

"Anya, we could never hate you!" Yor interrupts him in her earnestness. "Never! No matter what they did to you in that lab!"

"Really?" Anya looks hopeful.

"Really." Yor says with such firmness that there's no doubting her sincerity. And when Anya scrambles from Yuri's lap into hers, she receives her with open arms, squeezing her into a tight hug.

"Anya," Loid says, stroking her hair "whatever they did to you in that lab, there's no possible way it could cause any of us to hate you."

"You promise?"

"Pinky promise." He holds out his pinky finger to her and she takes it.

Yuri glances away. Despite apparently none of them minding his presence, he still feels as though he's intruding upon a very private moment between the three of them.

This is his sister's family.

Sham or not at the start, she loves them and the love, he knows, has never been a sham.

His hand is still on Bond's head, so he focuses on the dog instead, running his fingers through his thick fur.

He thinks about what Anya has told them.

When his parents had died, at least he had Yor to lean on. And she had had him.

But Anya had been alone before she had Loid and his sister, while those people did whatever awful things they did in that lab to her.

She's not alone anymore. She has her family.

He may have been dragged into the role kicking and screaming, but he's an uncle now. He intends to work even harder to live up to that going forward.