I'm sorry for taking so long to update.

I'm also going to apologise for this chapter in advance. This is more of a transition chapter than anything else and really boring. As such, it's totally crap.

The title is taken from the first sentence in The Princess Bride.

The next hour or so was a blur for Arthur. He had been rather panicked, unable to think straight, and would eternally be grateful to the lovely woman who approached him to tell him she was calling an ambulance. While they waited, Arthur tried to rouse Alfred as he pressed his hands to the wound. That had been something he read in a book and he hoped that it would help – it had been a fictional book, after all. Alfred never woke, though, his chest the only part of him moving with each breath. When the ambulance finally arrived, the paramedics took over. They allowed Arthur to ride with them, asking for Alfred's name.

"Alfred," Arthur had told them, automatically. However, when he was prodded for a surname, he had realised that there was no way he could tell them that he actually came from a book. "Alfred Ford," he had found himself uttering, a little shakily. He hoped there was no-one with the same name in the world who would be inconvenienced by his lie.

St. Thomas' Hospital was the establishment they were taken to, since they were rather close by. The London Eye towered behind it and Arthur's stomach dropped as he thought of Alfred's excitement at being so high up. Alfred was rushed inside and Arthur was asked to wait in the hallway. He sat and wrung his hands; he paced up and down; he sat and bit his lip so hard he bled. What was he supposed to do if Alfred died? Would he magically be transported back to Corinnia and found dead in Sakura's palace?

"Please, please, please," was what he was saying when a doctor appeared. Arthur leapt up, his eyes wild as he tried to question the doctor but unable to speak.

"He'll live, don't worry," came the answer.

Arthur had never felt so relieved in all his life. He had to take several deep breaths before he could focus on anything the doctor was trying to tell him. "Thank you."

"Just doing my job, sir. He's quite healthy, considering. Should be back on his feet in no time."

"May I see him?" asked Arthur.

"I'm afraid he's resting and he'll probably be out until tomorrow morning. You should go home and get some sleep, too – you look like you need a good cup of tea and some sleep."

This didn't sit well with Arthur. "I'd rather be by his side, if you don't mind. He's given me quite the scare."

The doctor sighed. "Well, I must warn you – it is likely the police will arrive soon to question you. Other than that, after you've spoken to Mr. Ford, I must insist you go home to rest. You can come back during the visiting hours."

Nodding, Arthur took a step towards the door. "Thank you. Thank you, so much." With that being said, Arthur hurried inside, eager to get to Alfred. The room was the standard layout popular on TV shows. Alfred lay on a bed, straight as an arrow, his face relaxed. He wasn't smiling and that made Arthur rather uncomfortable. Beside him was a heart monitor, beeping regularly. An IV drip was attached to him. On the other side of the bed was a bedside cabinet. Pushed out of the way was an armchair which Arthur immediately pulled over so he could sit by Alfred's side, holding his hand.

"Is he important to you?" asked a voice which made Arthur jump. Turning, he saw a smiling nurse, her cropped blonde hair framing her face. She had kind eyes so Arthur nodded. "Is he your brother?"

"Ah, no. Just a friend, really." He looked back at the knight.

"Oh, I see," said the girl in a knowing tone. Arthur blinked and turned but, before he could deny her suspicions, she continued. "I'll leave you two alone. Call if you need anything."

Arthur dumbly nodded before turning to look down at Alfred once more. When he was sure he was alone, he sighed. "You idiot. I told you not to. Honestly, you almost gave me a heart attack. If I drop dead from stress it's your fault. What am I doing?" He ran his free hand through his hair. "I'm scolding you when you can't hear me. Aren't I silly? But this is just a warm-up. When you wake up, I'm going to rip you a new one. And then I'll- Oh, who am I kidding? Just..." Sighing, Arthur shook his head and made himself more comfortable – no doubt this would be a long wait.

An hour later, the police turned up. Arthur had been alone since the nurse left and was surprised when there was a knock on the door. Looking up, he watched as the door opened and two men walked in. They both wore suits and long coats, though these were unbuttoned. The taller of the two had dark red hair and the smaller had mousy brown hair.

"Mr. Kirkland?" asked the redhead. He had a Scottish accent, Arthur noted.

"Yes?" Arthur didn't remember giving his name but, with his shock earlier, he supposed that he must have done so.

"I am DI Munro and this is DS Llewellyn," said the man, flashing his ID as they came closer.

"Oh, um, hello."

"We're here about the attack," said Llewellyn who sounded Welsh (and, considering the name, probably was).

"Right. What do you want to know?" Arthur turned to give them his full attention, slipping his hand away from Alfred's and hoping they didn't see. He noticed Munro glancing in that direction and cursed himself for making it more obvious than it had been.

"Why don't you start from the beginning?" Llewellyn asked.

Taking a deep breath, Arthur nodded. "We were walking past an- Well, wait. We were walking to the Tube but..." He trailed off – how could he explain how Alfred was so enthralled with street lights that he had been running between each one. "He's never been in London before. We... We met online, you see, and got friendly. He's here for a holiday and he's staying with me. But he was rushing ahead and came to the alley. I don't know why but he stopped and looked in. When I caught up to him, he was staring at these blokes cornering a girl. She looked quite distressed so... This idiot went in and confronted them. I didn't know what to do so I just... stayed at the mouth of the alley. The girl ran off when Alfred distracted them and they rounded on him. He tried to keep them both in sight but one circled 'round and..." Arthur trailed off.

"Would you be able to recognise them?" asked Munro.

"Um... No. I didn't see them clearly and, well, it was dark."

"Anything else? Did you hear them say any names?"

Arthur shook his head. "No, nothing."

Both of the detectives hummed and nodded. It looked as though they had come across this kind of attack before – and it was no wonder, if they were working in London. Finally, they put their things away. "Well, Mr. Kirkland," said Munro. "Thank you for your time. We will be in touch if there is anything else we need to ask you and we will be back to talk to Mr. Ford once he's awake. Goodbye."

Nodding to them in acknowledgement, Arthur watched them go. He breathed a sigh of relief once the door closed and went back to watching over Alfred.

Arthur didn't remember laying his head down on the bed beside Alfred but that was certainly what he was doing when he felt someone shaking his shoulder. With a yawn, he sat up, rubbing his eyes and stretching the kinks from his back. When he opened his eyes, it was to find a bright smile looking back at him.

"Alfred!" he cried, a relieved smile flitting onto his face. Then he scowled at him. "What on Earth were you thinking?! You didn't have your armour on!"

"I apologise," said Alfred, the smile not leaving his face. "Are you all right?"

"What? Of course I am."

The knight didn't look convinced but swiftly moved on. "Where are we?"

"We're in a hospital. Um, it's kind of like a place where a lot of Healers are," Arthur explained when Alfred shot him a confused look. "You'll be stuck in here till you're well enough to go."

"Nonsense. I can-"

"No!" cried Arthur as Alfred tried to sit up. "Don't. You'll undo all their work. Just... rest. You need it."

Staring at him, the knight looked as though he was contemplating something. Then he smiled – not one of his usual smiles, but one smaller and fond. "You need some, too."

"I... Well, I suppose..."

"Return home and rest. Come to me in the morning."

"Well..."

"I will be in capable hands, will I not?"

Arthur sighed, knowing he was correct. "Fine. But don't mention Corrinia – they'll think you've been hit on the head. Say that you come from... New York. That you're here on holiday and staying with me. You've got no family to call at the moment."

"Why?" asked Alfred, looking genuinely confused.

"Just... They won't understand, okay? There might be some men who'll come to ask questions about what happened. Answer them honestly, all right? I'll be back in the morning."

Yawning, Alfred nodded. "I think I shall rest more, as well."

Arthur nodded, unable to stifle his own yawn. "I'll go find a nurse and then I'll be gone, okay?"

"Goodnight, fair one."

"Goodnight," Arthur answered, not registering what Alfred had said until he was in the corridor. Then he had to find a nurse accompanied by a raging blush.

In the morning, Arthur returned with a rucksack. Alfred looked interested in it and waited patiently for Arthur to tell him. Indeed, the Englishman sat down and began to pull out books, each one wrapped and kept closed with a stretched elastic band. "I brought the Corrinia Saga," he told Alfred, rubbing at tired eyes. He had been unable to sleep when he had gotten to his empty home then, after he had finally drifted off, strange dreams flitted through his mind. When he had awoken, still tired, he had stumbled around the flat, once again missing Kiku completely. As he stared at the calendar they had pinned up in the kitchen, he had realised that he couldn't be with Alfred through the day. So he decided that he would have to take something for Alfred to occupy his time with.

Alfred picked up the first one Arthur had set down, unwrapping it. "The ones you spoke of before?"

Nodding, Arthur continued unloading all ten books. "It'll give you something to do. I have to go to work." It was his last day at the bookshop: they hadn't scheduled him in for any more for the rest of the week and he didn't start his new job until next Monday. Luckily, his boss at the bookshop was understanding when Arthur called up to explain that he had to visit someone in the hospital before he made it to the premises.

"Work?" asked Alfred, looking at Arthur.

"Yes. It's what I do to get money," Arthur replied, rather sardonically.

"And I must stay here while you are gone?"

"Apparently. They seem to want you to stay here for another few hours to make sure the stitches don't open up or you don't have any internal bleeding. Or something."

"Ah, I see. Well, I will obey the wise Healers."

"Right," Arthur said, raising his eyebrow at Alfred. "I'd best get going. Just remember: no talking about how you come from Corrinia."

"I know," said Alfred, smiling cheerily.

"Well. Goodbye, for now."

"Farewell, Arthur."

With that, Arthur walked out of the room and turned down the corridor. As he dodged nurses and doctors, he glanced up and noticed the two detectives from the day before. They were coming towards him and he raised a hand in greeting. Nodding back, they paused as they reached him.

"He's awake?" asked Llewellyn.

"Yes. I think he may be reading." Still a little concerned that Alfred would say something stupid about Corrinia, he added. "Go easy on him, eh? I think he's still a bit shocked. In shock, I mean, or whatever the term is."

Munro raised an eyebrow. "We'll make sure not to upset him further."

Arthur nodded. "Thank you. I have to go, though. Have a good day." He hurried away – Munro's expression had made him nervous.

He returned that evening, feeling rather tired. With his mind on Alfred, he had been taking longer to complete his tasks than normal. It had made him feel more and more lethargic as time wore on. Finally, he made it to Alfred's bedside. The knight was just as happy as when he had left him.

"They gave me food," he told Arthur, cheerfully. "These Healers are extremely nice."

"Yes..." said Arthur, slowly. He shook his head slightly to stop the vicious thoughts of 'he really is an idiot'. "The detectives, Munro and Llewellyn, were they okay?"

"Oh, yes. They were very understanding. And they even said they would catch the men responsible."

"I doubt that," Arthur muttered under his breath. He pulled the chair over as he spoke, effectively preventing Alfred from hearing him. "Anyway, I have time to wait with you now. Did they say when they're letting you go?"

"Tomorrow – they wish to keep me here overnight."

"Ah, okay. I can take you home tomorrow." Realising what he had said and to whom, Arthur rushed to clarify. "I mean, back to where you came out. Of the books." He stopped himself with a groan and covered his face with his hands.

"The books! They are very informative," declared Alfred. Arthur looked up and saw him holding one aloft. "I have been reading this one and it is exactly as it happened to me."

"It is a book about you."

Alfred nodded. Then he paused for a moment, obviously thinking. Arthur let him, wondering what the problem was. "Arthur..." he finally said. "Could you read them to me?"

"What?!"

"I am sure you would make an amazing bard," Alfred explained with a large smile.

Sighing, Arthur rolled his eyes and took the book from him. "Where did you get to?" he asked. Alfred leaned forward and, suddenly, he was a lot closer than Arthur was comfortable with. His eyes are a much brighter blue from this distance... When Alfred tapped the book, Arthur jolted in surprise but covered it up by settling properly in the chair. "O-Okay. Right." He cleared his throat and tore his eyes away from Alfred's amusement. "'Francis!' Alfred cried as the ground crumbled beneath his companion. He threw his arm out, hoping Francis would catch hold...'"

Three hours later, a nurse popped her head around the door to tell Arthur that the visiting hours were up. He nodded to her to show he understood but continued reading to the end of the page before snapping the book shut. Alfred looked disheartened.

"I was right," he said to Arthur as the latter placed the book on the bedside table. "You would make an excellent bard."

"Well, I can't make a living from that. Not here, at any rate," Arthur said with a chuckle. He turned to push the chair out of the way. "I'll be back in the morning. If they let you out, I'll make sure to-"

"Arthur!" cried Alfred. Arthur spun around to see what was wrong. "Look!"

Staring in shock at the book Alfred was pointing at, Arthur's jaw dropped. The last book in the series was glowing with a green light. Alfred threw back the covers of the bed and stood, looking quite ridiculous in the hospital's gown. He was about to reach out for the book when Arthur grabbed his wrist.

"Wait! It could be dangerous."

"No, it will take me home. I am sure of it."

His hesitation was enough to let Alfred pull away from him. Once more, he moved to touch it but, again, Arthur stopped him, this time gripping his elbow. "Wait."

"What is it?"

"I just... Aren't you going to say goodbye?" asked Arthur, staring at the floor. He wasn't entirely sure how to feel. Sad that he was going, of course: he had gotten quite used to Alfred being with him. Relieved, maybe. Heartbroken? He was being ridiculous, he decided, and looked up to Alfred with a smile.

Alfred wasn't smiling back. His eyes were wide and he was biting his lip. "Arthur..." he said. Arthur suddenly found himself crushed in a hug. Awkwardly, he lifted his arms to Alfred's back as the knight's strong arms held him close. After patting him slightly, Arthur dropped his arms but Alfred still didn't let him go.

"Alfred," he prompted. That was all he needed to say for Alfred to let him go, holding him at arm's length so that Arthur could clearly see his anguish. He couldn't bear it and quickly looked away, back to the book. "Well, go on, the-"

"Come with me," said Alfred.

Eyes widening, Arthur looked up. "What?!"

"Come with me," repeated Alfred, looking perfectly serious. "It's safe – I made it through before, didn't I?"

"Yes, but-"

"Please, Arthur." Alfred was looking at him with such a sad, pleading gaze that Arthur felt guilty for contradicting him, resisting him. "I do not want to leave you just yet, but..."

"There's no telling when you'll be able to go through next," Arthur finished for him. "But I can't leave – I have a life here and-"

"Do you not want to see my adventures first-hand?"

"Well, that would-"

"See? Come with me."

"I..." As he gazed into the depths of Alfred's wide eyes, Arthur could feel his resistance dwindling. "But... Maybe..."

"Maybe?"

Arthur sighed. He could tell he would probably regret what he was about to do but, nevertheless... "All right."

"Great!" exclaimed the suddenly excited knight. Without further ado, he grabbed Arthur's hand. The crushing grip reminded Arthur of how bad an idea this was but, before he could wrench his hand away, Alfred had already slapped his hand on the book. For a few seconds, nothing happened. Alfred even began to say, "Maybe we should open-?"

Then, without warning, Arthur felt something pulling on the arm attached to Alfred. He was pulled forward and down – and then pulled backwards and up by his feet. His stomach twisted and danced: he felt very ill as bright colours – reds and blues and purples and a lot of green – spun past him. Black rushed to meet him and-

St. Thomas' Hospital is an actual hospital in London. I wasn't quite sure where the two of them were so I just decided they could be near the London Eye. That hospital is literally right beside it. According to Google Maps, anyway.

Munro and Llewellyn are obviously Scotland and Wales. They weren't going to be in this chapter but then I realised that a) it was going to be a short chapter. b) the police would likely turn up to interrogate both of them, so... Munro totally knows that Arthur's hiding something but he doesn't know what.

Normally, I wouldn't have added in what Arthur said about the attack but I thought you would like to see him lying. Badly.

I know this is terribly clichéd, to have a character go into another world in a book or whatever. But, when I was thinking about this ages ago, I thought this would be more fun than traipsing around London. And, also, I don't know London very well so... Besides, if Alfred was to stay in London and adapt to life there, it would be rather like another of my stories. So I decided against that and went with, well...

(This is also where my storyline gets vague. So... This will be fun.)