Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.
The excitement didn't die down for a while. And during this time, a discovery was made.
It was a hidden passage, that laid right under their noses —well, technically under Arthur's 'bed' (if you could call the ancient cot that)— and was unveiled to them not four days after their venture to Tríco.
"Ivan."
"Hmm?" Ivan answered, lazily looking up at the ceiling.
"What do you think the building used to look like?"
Ivan sat up and turned to face the Brit. "I don't know. Beautiful, maybe."
Arthur smiled. "You believe that?"
Ivan shrugged. Anything was believable when you hardly knew about the subject at hand.
"Look," Arthur said, going towards his 'bed'. "I see something under there. Hey Ivan, do you think the old cot'll make too much noise if I drag it from this spot?"
"Not really. But, I'm guessing. Even so, it seems that on this level, there is only us, so go ahead."
"Ivan!" Arthur shouted, not caring if he was alerting any enemies. For, at the moment, he was dangling in a big hole in the floor, right on the spot where he thought he saw something. His hands were holding on to the other floor boards for his life, and his heart was panicking fiercely. It didn't matter if he caught anyone else's attention, because Ivan had gotten up and made his way to where the Brit was holding on for his dear life, quickly getting on his knees and reaching out to his equally wide-eyed companion.
"Hold on," Ivan was panicking. Arthur couldn't die! Not now, not today. He couldn't! "I've got you."
"Shite, shite, shite, shite, shite." Arthur muttered as he reached for Ivan's hand, missing. He tried again, and this time, he caught Ivan's extended hand. He was pulled up, heart pounding wildly at the thought of almost falling through that hole. Breathless, he laid on the floor next to his sitting friend, thanking Ivan and every deity he knew that he was alive.
"You okay?" Ivan asked after a few seconds went by.
"Oh fuck," Arthur grinned, his heart still on edge. "If that's isn't an understatement, I don't know what is."
They laughed at Arthur's good-natured sarcasm, though both thought quietly in their heads that, that was a close one. Really close.
"What are you thinking about?"
"Oh, uh, nothing."
"You sure," Arthur grinned teasingly. "Because for the past minute you've been wearing a rather 'seriously-in-thought' expression on your face, while staring at the hole."
Ivan jokingly raised his hands in surrender. "Okay you've caught me."
"Don't I always."
"Да, you do," when their eyes met they both laughed at the silliness of their joking tones. "You're right, you know. I was thinking about what could have been in that hole, and what is in there presently. Though, it's obviously too dangerous to find out."
"Who says?"
"You almost fell in there not five minutes ago, but you're already to go down there?"
"Yes, I am." Arthur said. Ivan rolled his eyes at his friend's daredevil-like attitude. Was there nothing the Brit couldn't do?
No. He decided. Not if Arthur set his mind to it.
His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door closing. He immediately sprang up, rushing over to where his knives were, ready to stab the intruder to pieces. He quickly spun around and came face to face with...
Arthur?
His mouth was agape, and the knife was put back inside his backpack. "Damn, Arthur, if you're going somewhere, at least let me know so I don't kill you on accident."
Arthur snorted. "As if, Ivan."
The Russian raised his eyebrows. "Hmm?
"You'd know it was me."
Now it was Ivan's turn to snort. "How would you know."
"Oh, I know. I just know," Arthur then showed Ivan what was in his hands. "Look, I found some good, sturdy rope. We can use it to go down that hole."
"Now?"
"Yes, now," Arthur said. "Come along Ivan, we've got to find out what's in there some day, and better sooner than later."
He was probably right. But there was no way Ivan was going to admit that. "Fine." Ivan said, following Arthur to where the hole was. They looked around the room to find a place they could tie the very long, and surprisingly strong rope on, and had settle on stacking the cots on each other, then tying the rope to them. They checked the rope a few times before Arthur firmly decided that he was finally going down —as much as Ivan objected— and holding on tightly to the rope, down he went, into the darkness until Ivan could no longer see him, though he could still hear his voice.
"You coming or what?"
Ivan smiled at his friend's headstrong words, but he did, as his friend, go down, down into the darkness. Halfway down, he mentally hit himself for not bringing down any candles or light of any kind. Though it seemed as if his friend had read his thoughts, and was striking a match right then and there.
"Bloody hell, and tartar sauce! It's huge down here, Ivan!"
It was. Evidently, Arthur had found some candles, and with the light they brought, Ivan could what Arthur had saw. The room was wide, wider than any room Ivan had seen in this building —though he supposed that didn't count for much— it looked ancient, but rather grand, in its only strange way. There were many chairs and a few tables every now and there. Arthur was about to mess with the light switch but Ivan wouldn't hear of it. One bit of light, and they'd probably be surrounded forty-five minutes flat. So, Arthur set the candle on a old, and a bit molded, plate he saw on one of the table.
Arthur lit another candled a handed it to the taller male. "Ivan, if you find anymore plates, bring them here, will you."
Ivan nodded, and began gathering up the ancient and slightly molded plates, bringing them back to Arthur, who was lighting candles and placing them on plates that had been placed on the small table. Soon, they had some decent light.
"Ivan, what do you think this room was used for?"
"It's doesn't look like a place for eating, though it doesn't exactly look like an office."
"A lab then?"
"Maybe, maybe not."
"Security room?"
"Possibly."
Arthur smiled at him and shook his head, but said nothing.
"Either way, —when we get back up the hole— we could cover the hole for now, and maybe explore it later on, okay."
"Sure," Arthur agreed. "But only if we get to explore the rest of the place."
"What do you mean?" Ivan didn't even need to ask that question. He knew exactly what Arthur meant.
"The rest of the building is ripe for exploring —we both know it— and a chance like this might never come again, Ivan."
Ivan sighed, but nodded. "Fine. J-just, can we leave this room now?"
He yawned sleepily afterwards, and began climbing the rope. Arthur smiled at Ivan's yawn, and began climbing up after him. Very soon the two were back in their room.
"You'll enjoy it," Arthur said. "You'll see."
Ivan laid down on his cot, and groaned at Arthur's words.
Arthur just laughed.
That night, in the almost ever-lingering darkness, Ivan laid awake —at least, he seemed awake— his thoughts prohibiting him from sleeping. Thoughts, he hadn't had in a long while.
Doubt: It was there —alive and kicking— as it always had been. Though, with every waking moment of these past few months, he had been occupied with Arthur.
And what Arthur liked, what he disliked, what he brought up, and what he was too embarrassed to say.
He had been occupied by his friend. A very good thing indeed, but...
Now that the Brit was asleep, Ivan's thoughts tormented him.
"You're alone." They said. You're always alone, and you're still alone. That's all you'll ever be.
No. He always protested. Arthur was his friend. His comrade.
But, was he so sure? Would this last? Would Arthur be hauled away like every other good thing in his life? Would they be found? Caught? Killed? Would he finally become mad?
"Ivan. Ivan... Ivan! Come back! Let us in! Ivan! Ivan!"
Before he knew it, he began murmuring aloud. "No! No, stop! Go away! Leave! Go!"
Now, he felt his face become wet. Tears? He could of laughed at this childish act in a second. Him —crying? Not possible. Not in a million years, but still...
That didn't seem to stop the liquid from spilling from his eyes now.
And he wanted to scream, curse and maybe even let some more tears spill, but something —a hand? Or an angel? Or somewhat like that— touched him —calmed him down— until his breathing was steady again, and the tears stop flowing like a flood. The occasion sniffle came up, but it was that...magic touch that helped him. It really helped.
It was Arthur.
The Brit had been awaken by a feeble noise in the back of his head. He turned onto his left side and found that the noise was coming from Ivan, who, though, murmuring in between a few sobs, was asleep. He quietly crept out the bed, careful not to wake his sleeping, distressed friend, and walked over to where Ivan's ancient cot laid. The Russian's breathing was a bit heavy, which told Arthur this must have been something rather grave —he already thought something was wrong since he'd never seen Ivan cry. Not even when talking about death, or life, or things in the past (of the few things Ivan told him about his past, of course)— that had probably been building itself up for a while. Lingering in the corners of his friend's mind. Though, despite himself, the now seventeen year old found himself wondering what had erupted in Ivan's mind. He, for one, had no clue, and knew he shouldn't push Ivan for answers, but his curiosity wasn't helping.
Still, there was no way he'd go and ask Ivan. Sure they were friends, but, if there was one thing friends —especially guy friends— didn't do, it was ask personal questions of this...sort.
The next morning, Arthur had decided to try and be easy on Ivan. It wasn't pity, just concern and cautiousness. He didn't want to trigger anything that would make Ivan remember whatever it was that brought the taller male to tears. Still, his mind kept plaguing him by wondering: What did bring Ivan to that stage of breaking down?
Oh, shut up. Arthur told himself, now thoroughly annoyed with his foolish questions. Luckily, Ivan came out the bathroom and took him from his thoughts with a single word.
"Arthur." Ivan said. as he came out the bathroom, his face still wet from washing it.
"Yes." Arthur replied. He was sitting on the floor, reading the only thing he hadn't brought on purpose: Detectives In Togas. It was a rather old book, given to him on his eighth birthday by both Alfred and Francis, who had finally saved up enough money —with some nagging and lecturing towards Alfred about saving money on Francis' part— to get him it. He had so happy that day. Happy enough that he did something 'out of character' and tackled them into a squeezing hug.
Ivan had a rather thoughtful look on his face. "Let's go."
Arthur stopped trying to read and looked up at Ivan. "What?"
"Let's go do what you said." Ivan replied. He thought, unlike Arthur, that it would be best not to 'take things easy'. To stay distracted and keep the horrid thoughts at bay. He knew he probably was puzzling his friend by his sudden brave, and quite recklessly venturous behavior, but it didn't matter at the moment. He needed something to occupy his time. And quickly, before his friend begins to suspect something was wrong. He didn't need to make his friend concerned or somewhat like that for no reason. He could deal with his problems on his own. He just needed...
"What I said about exploring?" Arthur said knowingly. It brought Ivan back to where they were. Back to this world, time, and place. Where he would be taking a big, risky step.
But...was it worth it?
He didn't know. Either way, he found himself saying: "Yes —let's go exploring."
"Okay," Arthur said. He knew he should've protested a bit, but he couldn't help himself. It was selfish. Yes. But, He really wanted to explore the building. He really did. "Now?"
"Now." Ivan answered. And, taking a few of Ivan's knives with them, they opened the door, and headed out.
It wasn't as dark as it was in their room, and they were actually able to make out many shapes and sizes. From this, they knew it must be morning, or afternoon, at the least. Arthur immediately began trying to get into doors, and found that the few opened so far were supply closets, and some storage rooms. Ivan picked the locks to the ones that wouldn't open, and they happened to be worth the breaking in. In one room, there were two nice sized mattresses —that surprisingly weren't broken old worn out from age or previous use— a few sheets, five used-looking pillows, and lots of packs of...socks?
"These will be useful." Arthur said, picking up a pack of socks and grinning rather sarcastically. Ivan laughed softly.
"So will the mattresses, sheets, and pillow, you know." the taller of the two answered.
"I know." Arthur said, throwing the pack of socks to Ivan, who caught them easily. "Hey Ivan."
"Yes?"
"Well um," Arthur started off. "Never mind. I'll tell you later."
"Okay." Ivan said. He grew curious at this uneasiness from the acid-green eyed male, but held his tongue.
"Let's just explore this floor for now, okay?"
"Arthur," Ivan began to tease. "Has something brought a damper on your adventurous spirit? Was it the socks?"
Arthur gave in and smiled. "No, Ivan...but," Ivan stared curiously at him. "It's nothing. I just...think it might be better to explore one floor today, and see what we could accomplish with the things we've found on it."
"Okay," Ivan said. Though, now he had a sort of sinking feeling in his stomach. What was Arthur hiding? "That sounds reasonable."
"Well, I did think about it myself."
"Yes, Arthur. Truly you are the wisest of all."
"Yes, yes, I know. But, don't bring yourself down about it."
Ivan smiled and shook his head.
And Arthur laughed.