Chapter Six

"Brother…?" the boy was slowly stirring, but his form was strangely blurred.

"Yes, Natalia has a brother." There was someone sitting next to him, speaking rapidly with a somewhat rushed tone, as if trying to wake the boy from a not-really slumber. "It's like, shocking, isn't it? A lot of people have brothers, actually, but I don't, which is like, not awesome. Having a sibling would be fabulous."

He saw him smile then, and it felt like it was the first in years.

"Ludwig has a brother." A new voice, not exactly familiar, but the cheerfulness tugged at something in the back of his mind. "But I've never met him, which is sad. Kiku has lots of brothers!"

"And a sister." How many people were there? He could only see three, but there were four voices.

"Oh yes, a bella sorella." It was that voice again, the one that spoke with more life than any other, but the source could not be seen. He looked from the boy on the blurry ground, smile gracing his lips, to a dark haired skeleton and a golden-haired lunatic. No lips were moving, and yet the voice continued, "And me too! I have… I had a brother…"

He had a brother… He could only imagine how painful it'd be to lose a brother. Emil might not show it, but he cared so, so much but didn't understand or tolerate the humaneness of the feeling or action and was more willing to build a fortress around his heart and soul. And he knew that he would've been the same if he hadn't nailed down his soul with a promise, and he thought that perhaps, that was what made him so beautiful, those conflicting personalities; that was what made Lukas-

Lukas.

It came as a shock at first, the sudden surge of memories. But it had been there all along, it wasn't even hiding, and he had never found it because it had been too dark.

Something cracked in the darkness, and he heard someone scream. Then the image: the boy, the two speakers and the invisible one as well, crumbled into nothingness, and he realized that he was the one was screaming.

Lukas never thought he'd regret his own words so much. He also never thought that Emil could be so angry at him, of all people. The world had veered off into a strange, foreign path where everything was warped and wrong and just simply impossible because-

"Now Mathias is gone, and it's your fault!"

But- that wasn't possible, because he hadn't meant to tell him to go away, he just wanted some space, he was so overwhelmed and scared- but Mathias had been like an anchor for him in panic and he had just pushed him away like- he had just- he just…

"I didn't mean it." The words tasted sour on his lips, even if they knew it was true. He sounded like a guilty child, he felt like a guilty child, and- wasn't that what he was? Guilty?

"You didn't mean it." If it was anytime else, Lukas would've been proud. Emil had grown, and whether it was influence from Australia, or him, or Ms. Héderváry, he didn't know and didn't care and at the moment, it didn't matter either. "Of course you didn't mean it. And Hitler didn't mean to start a war!" Now that was a bit overboard, but it did its job of making Lukas even more miserable. The fact that they were somewhat stranded in an assassin-infested city with Emil barely standing yet lecturing him made it simply unbearable. "If I told you to go away, you'd have felt-" Horrible. "Exactly! And yet you decide to tell him to- to scram!"

"I know, I know." This was probably the most painful moment in Lukas's life so far, although the clash with a certain Middle School teacher was a close second. "But-," He was changing the topic, he was avoiding the ugliness, he knew what he was doing but he couldn't help it. "But… shouldn't we go find him first?"

Emil threw his hands up in the air, but it was with a conflicted kind of relief. "Thank God. Here I was thinking you've lost your brain somewhere during the tour." Now that was just rude, and he had the sneaking suspicion that Emil was insulting him simply because he had the chance to.

But Lukas decided to be the better man and pulled out his phone. "I… We can call Alfred and uh…" There was another one; somebody else had been with them all day, so why couldn't he remember? Short term memory was not contagious, was it? "Anyways, we can call someone for help, although…" Although Alfred might not be the best idea. He was almost as mad as Mathias, and Lukas did not need a night tour of New York City. "Whatever."

So he dialed Alfred's number, the phone began to connect, and the phone couldn't have even beeped yet when-

"The number you have dialed is not-"

"That went well." And it was, for his sanity.

"Maybe Mathias had already gone back home?"

"Doubtful." Lukas continued to scroll through his pitiful amount of contacts filled with no one to help them. Of his most useful contacts, he only had Alfred's number: the American had forced it onto him at the beginning of the tour in case they got separated. Uncharacteristically considerate, and it might have come in good use if only the American had picked-

"Why do you have the Bad Touch Trio's number?"

"I- what?" He did not remember having that at all, but sure enough, he tracked down a very unsuspicious tab labeled "BTT home", and when he clicked inside, the number actually looked legit.

"We can call them," Emil said with a shrug, as if calling an assassin, a hacker, and a trader of the Black Market to check if their friend was at home was not weird at all and completely foolproof. "Go on, call them."

"I am going to regret this," Lukas muttered, but he pressed on the chain of numbers and it began to dial. He gingerly placed his phone over the shell of his ear, already anticipating the loud shouting and chaos that would surely ensue when the constant dragged out beeps stopped to allow him to converse with the last people he wanted to talk to.

The beeping that had started to fade into the background noise abruptly silenced, and there was a slight crackle to the voice that took over. A slightly accented, sweet, unfamiliar, feminine voice.

"Hello? Who is this?"

"Wrong number," Lukas declared, and promptly hung up.

Mathias woke up screaming, and he didn't know why. He also woke with someone gripping his shoulders too tightly and shaking him violently, and the moment he caught the expression on his assaulter's face, his mouth snapped shut and his brain stopped wondering.

More accurately, his brain stopped wondering about why he was screaming, and began wondering who this very angry and violent person was.

There was something strangely familiar about this person, but his twisted scowl – although truly vicious and unforgiving – was the fakest thing Mathias had ever seen, though it was also very memorable, since it was doubtful you'd ever meet someone with as much hate as this person who had stopped shaking him, but was still gripping his shoulders uncomfortably tightly, fingers digging into the bone. Maybe Mathias had passed him one time on the street, and his sub-consciousness – something Lukas had described to him and Matthias proudly remembered – had taken note and remembered him.

The person had dark chestnut hair, a strange wayward strand curling towards the ceiling like some kind of absurdly proud beanstalk, and his eyes were a mesmerizing shade of green tinted with gold that flashed with ire.

"Ow," Mathias uttered.

"Shut up," the person snapped back. "Thanks to you the guards are probably going to come running soon, which means my escape plan has been completely spoiled and it's entirely your fault!"

Strangely enough, Matthias felt like that wasn't the first time he had heard something similar to that before, and a wave of guilt swept through him.

"Sorry," he apologized quickly, "But, um, who-?" That was when he caught sight of the bars. "Where-?" He was in a gray concrete box with one white light overhead, a door of metal and gear that was then protected by a row of metal bars to his left. He wasn't sure how the person planned on escaping as it seemed practically impossible. "What?"

"Oh Dio mio." The person rolled his eyes and finally released Mathias, who sat up straight, rubbing his shoulders. He had a way of talking that was foreign to Mathias: his syllables were very clear with an elegant little twist to them that was then blunted by his curt tone and angry voice."You are insufferable."

"What did I say?" Mathias was very confused."Who are you? I'm Mathias," he added after a pause.

"Lovino," the brunet answered with a grunt, then rounded up to Mathias again, eyebrows furrowed, green eyes narrowed. "You don't know where you are?"

This was a question he could answer easily. "No. I don't remember much of anything, in fact. Just… there was a person… um…" Mathias felt his eyes wander, skimming over the windowless concrete slabs and landing on the cell door. He blinked, noticed a flash of color in the gray environment, and cheerfully greeted a person whom he assumed was his roommate. "Hi, I'm Mathias! What is your name?"

The hand he stuck out was sorely ignored as the person stared at him, expression unreadable. "You're mad."

"I'm really not, actually," Mathias denied. "I'm feeling quite happy right now. Not sure why I'd be angry, honestly. Although I do have short-term memory, which could be something I should be angry about."

"Short-term-?!" The person spluttered, throwing both hands into the air in disbelief. "Okay." It took a moment for him to settle down, scowl still in place but considerably calmer. "Okay, I see. This is just great. Okay." Then he took a heavy breath and dropped back down to the ground before Mathias, crossing his hands and feet as he observed the blond skeptically. "I know that you are Mathias Køhler, and I also know a great deal more about you because I've read the files they've stupidly decided to put right outside our doors, but I'm not going to waste my breath telling you about every horrible thing you've done because you won't remember it anyway. So remember this: My name is Lovino Vargas."

"Lovino Vargas," Mathias repeated, tasting the foreign syllables. "Where are we, Lovino Vargas?"

"Lovino is fine," the brunet snapped. "And for your information, we are in a prison."

"A prison?"

"An Underworld prison, to be more specific. Probably in the middle of a forest surrounded by mountains or something. Well, I say prison, but it's more like a hanging prison, for the people that had done L'Inferno some great sin, and they are planning to get rid of us. Either they kill us, or we'll be sent to a lab."

This was a bit too much for Mathias to take in all at once. "Prison- Inferno?"

"Underworld, L'Inferno, Hell: they're all the same thing. Now," Lovino clapped his hands together, cutting Mathias off before he could ask another question, "I know who you are, and that is the only reason why I am going to offer this deal to you. According to your files, you are due for an examination in a nearby laboratory, identity and ability checks and whatnot. I," he gestured at himself, "am due for a painful execution. L'Inferno's been trying to get at me for years, ever since the Fall. Luckily for me, they don't know how to keep me in yet, but I also don't know the way out, which is why I need you."

He paused suddenly, head tilting to one side, eyes wide but unseeing as if he was concentrating on- footsteps. Military marching of two pairs of feet, louder and louder as they neared. Mathias froze with Lovino, then he blinked, and one minute the irritable Italian was there, and the next, he was gone.

The footsteps were an echo that seeped through the walls and made the air quiver, but they stopped somewhere near Mathias's cell. There was the sound of metal sliding against metal, some murmured comments followed by snickering laughter, and then the footsteps carried on. And stopped in front of his door.

A small panel of metal on the door slid to the side to reveal a pair of wide brown eyes, staring right at Mathias. "This one's awake," the owner of those eyes reported. The metal panel slid shut, and the footsteps departed.

There was a moment of silence – Mathias doubted he would be able to hear anything more than those vague footsteps and muffled voices patrolling the halls, which was why he was startled when he heard a heavy sigh behind him. He was on his feet in an instant, muscles moving on their own accord, knees bending and muscles tensing before his brain could wonder why he was doing this. And sure enough, Lovino Vargas diverted his glare at the bolted door towards Mathias, who he frowned quizzically at. "What are you doing?"

"I-," It took effort to relax, to let go of whatever subconscious memory that had gotten him strung up and frightened to the point of nausea. "I don't know." And he didn't. There was something inside of him that had started screaming when those guards peeked in, like he knew he was going to die but couldn't do anything to prevent it. He was not going to die. He was not dead.

"Of course you're not." Mathias had not known that he had been thinking out loud until Lovino decided to reply, an uncomfortable shift in his words. "You're going to a lab for check-up – not even for experiments, mind you – while I am going to die."

"Are you scared?" How could he speak of something like this so calmly, as if he didn't care?

"Not anymore." Something flickered across Lovino's face, but the vulnerability was gone before Mathias could identify it. "I've already died once. It's not very difficult to do it again."

"I've died so many times," Mathias said, his voice hollow. He did not understand the meaning of his own words, but at the same time, it all made sense. "Every time I forget something, it felt like I'm dying. All I remember is that I've forgotten so many thing, and I'm still so, so scared."

Lovino did not reply right away. Mathias was wrong when he first thought the Italian was brash, because he seemed to think for such a long time before saying anything. To a certain extent, he reminded him of-

"Everyone fears death, but they don't realize that they've been dying the whole time. Only some have the privilege of tasting it twice. They say that only cowards will taste death multiply times, but really: it is something you should treasure, and never forget. Don't forget that feeling, so that when it comes for you again, you would know it, and you can run from it again."

"Lukas," Mathias said suddenly, and he puzzled both of them. "I need to get back to Lukas."

"Who?"

"I'm not sure but… I think he's someone very important to me. I have a meeting. With someone. I was supposed to go to New York but I-," Mathias grabbed a handful of his hair, tugging at it frustratingly. "I just- I don't know. I have to get out of here. I have to find Lukas."

Lovino smiled, and it was strange thing, like something inhuman was finally shining through that crooked twist of his lips, a maniacal light gleaming in those golden green eyes – vivid but solid, unlike Lukas's deep and misty eyes, as if he was always dreaming, but at the same time, so grounded and realistic: beautiful in an inexplicable way, like he – neither of them – was something of this world. Something inside of him throbbed, screaming, crumbling to sobs before erupting into wailing when Lovino laughed like something was morbidly ironic, and offered him words he never thought he'd hear.

"And that, Mathias Køhler, is why I need you."

Lukas might have felt better if they had some kind of plan, but Alfred was not picking up his phone whatsoever, he did not want to stay another minute in that goddamned city, and it was a surprisingly swift trip back to Boston.

Mathias was not at home. The apartment was completely undisturbed, unnervingly quiet, and Emil decided that that was a very bad omen. "What if we actually left him in New York?"

"We probably did." Lukas frowned at the clock. "Hopefully he somehow finds his way to whoever he was supposed to meet, but before that…"

"I have a bad feeling about this, Lukas. Even if you told Mathias to leave, he wouldn't wander so far away – unless he forgot about us, that is."

"Which is quite likely, actually. So we need help."

"A psychiatrist, perhaps?" No, now was not the time to be cheeky, Emil, but-

"Worse. Come, Emil."

Less than ten minutes home, and they were gone again for an undetermined stretch of time, except this time they were more prepared, and this time Lukas was not alone.

But he retraced his steps from what felt like a lifetime ago, a sickened sense pooling in his stomach when he passed that hidden path where several months ago, a truck had parked by the roadside and a monster had struck him where he was weakest. There was that corner where he met a stranger who was no less a stranger today, and the crossroads into the populated city where he met his second assassin. He remembered being led down the streets and through the city, up an elevator and through a door into an apartment only a few miles from his own. Instead this time, he was the one who knocked, not the red-eyed killer, and instead of a cautious voice calling from inside out, the door opened without hesitation, and they were met by a stranger – another stranger who was not Antonio or Francis or Gilbert.

"Hello." At least the voice was slightly more familiar: there was a lilt in the words that made the green-eyed girl obviously foreign and a sweetness that fit well with her open smile, but there was nothing soft or vulnerable either. She sounded excited and confident, filled with energy that had her tipping back and forth on her feet, a green band holding back brown curls that bounced each time she fell from the tip of her toes onto her heels before rocking back onto her toes. "How may I help you? And don't tell me the password is 22020. The last guy who did still has a wife and a band of police searching for him, but stupidly enough they never thought to search for him in the middle of the sea, hm?"

And all they could do was stare.

"We've all got things we want: you want to find someone, and I want to find someone as well. But where you are going is where I want to be, and it's not simply to avoid an execution.

"So here's the deal: you get me to the labs, and I get you out of here."

"How?" Unless Lovino had a drill hidden up his shirt, he wasn't sure how they were getting out of this concrete box.

"That's for me to know, and you to find out." Fine, be that way.

"Why do you want to go to the labs?" It certainly didn't sound like a nice place to be.

Lovino gave an irritated huff. "As I said, I'm looking for someone. I'm not sure where he is now, but it's impossible to leave the lab unless you… die…" There was a pause as Lovino worried his lip between his teeth, eyebrows furrowed with distressed thoughts. "But… I'm sure he'll be fine. It hasn't been that long and… well… I just need to get to the lab to do some research so I can know where to find him," he finished, looking anywhere but at Mathias.

He shrugged. That sounded like a good enough reason.

"And there's one more thing." Lovino's voice hardened again, but this time with something that differed from his former determination. Mathias found his eyes cold and bright, the green fading into the gold, gleaming with something he couldn't name. There was an edge in his voice that Mathias didn't like, although there was nothing unpleasant or terrible when he spoke, only a grim sort of stiffness that made his words clip past his clenched teeth in sharp sounds. "Do you know a woman who goes by the name of Magyar?"

"Magyar?" Mathias was puzzled. "It sounds familiar…" but he just couldn't figure out why. There it was again: that awful, empty feeling when you knew it was there, but couldn't find it, couldn't reach it, couldn't see it.

"If it sounds familiar, then you've probably heard of her before. Good, good…" The brunet ran a jittery hand through his hair, then pinned Mathias with his piercing gaze once more. "I know who you are, and that's why I need you. Not only to get to the lab, but also to help me…" he paused, glancing towards the door and around the room as if this Magyar would somehow be eavesdropping on them through two feet of concrete and metal.

"I think I'll accept," Mathias spoke abruptly and without direction or thought. His mind barely registered what was happening; it was still digging through shadows and dust searching for anything about 'Magyar', but all he had found was faded photos of one distant memory of a day in a café after school, eager for dinner and expecting something more but interrupted by someone beautiful, someone bold, someone Lukas did not like.

"Pardon?"

"I think I'll accept," he repeated. "I help you and you help me. Sounds good to me."

"You don't even know what I want you to do."

"Does it matter?" Mathias truly wondered. He felt like he had already done everything a man could do – he just didn't remember any of it. "A deal's a deal."

Lovino was hesitant to take his hand, but he shook it firmly. "A deal's a deal."

"But still, can you tell me what it is that you want me to do? The Terms of Agreement, I think it's called, right?"

"Sì." Golden eyes glinting, there was a twist of lips to reveal an ugly smile, a malignant baring of venomous fangs. "I have many thoughts of what to do to that woman, but I need you for only one thing: I need you to help me kill her."

Hello! Thanks for all the reviews! Here's Chapter 7, I hope you enjoyed it. Admittedly it's not that well written: a bit redundant, in my opinion, which is why it's so much longer than my usual chapters, I guess.

Well, thank you for reading, and please Review!