Hey guys~ Sorry for the prolonged wait. My mum and sis are off at Vegas and my Dad is in Egypt, while I'm at home alone at the moment. My baby sister is going to pick me up later to stay at her house, so I have some time to finish the chapter and write some more, let out my dog to go potty, and get my stuff packed for tomorrow. :3 Anyways, hope you enjoy the chapter.

Warnings: Suicidal stories. (If you couldn't tell by the chapter name.) Don't worry, no gory details.

The Capture

Chapter IV: Suicidal

After Roderich had taken his leave, the sailors and fishermen quickly returned to their boisterous and pathetic selves. Note, that I said sailors and fishermen. I did not mention Gilbert or the bartender, did I? Gilbert's mind remained occupied by the oh so charming Roderich with his oh so sexy figure. He licked his lips, lustful thoughts flashing before his eyes once more with far more of an intensity, all of the images full of those daring, violet orbs that locked with his own. His head slugged down, staring deeply at the platform in front of him as his thoughts became dirty and perverted.

"Well, when is it going to be? The wedding that is, with you and that table yer staring at. You two done it yet?" The Briton smirked, feeling accomplished to get the ablino (or not-albino) to blush furiously. He rolled his eyes, a playful smirk playing on his lips. "You fancy Roderich, it seems. Just like any man or woman would. Well, you might as well give up. The lad himself doesn't even realize how he changes men's sexuality, and I definitely doubt he would notice your liking of him."

Gilbert simply glared, his determination fuming out of his ears like a volcano. Arthur knew full well that the boy was going to prove him terribly wrong, he just wanted to push the lad a little bit. Who knows, maybe this would be more entertaining than expected. A handsome, yet generally poor detective falling for a rich, beautiful aristocrat? What an overused cliché, it's pathetic, really, but when you think of it, it's romantic, is it not? That, and the only thing different from "the poor falling for the rich" cliché is that this time it is in between two men, not opposite genders.

"Look, kid, I don't actually doubt yer abilities. It's just that you got a low chance. I've known Roderich for five years, and I assure you, it isn't easy to get his attention, red eyes or not. Though, you can try. He did give you a glance, right? Shows that he's got some interests."

"What are you to him?" Gilbert asked suddenly, crossing his legs in a dominant manner. Arthur noticed this and crackled.

"Well, kid, I'm his savior." Gilbert didn't question the absurd answer, though he definitely was curious. Arthur noticed this as well, and elaborated. "Roderich was young when we first met, about twelve or so. I was twenty. He was too smart for his age, so he never got along with the kids in his neighborhood. They usually treated him like a stuck up noble. He was anything but. I caught the boy several times climbing a tree just to get a fresh apple. Any other nobleman would ask someone else to get it for them, like a maid, right?"

Gilbert nodded, understanding what he meant.

"Well, he began to get a little more strange. He asked his father to go out by himself when he was fourteen. I was twenty-two by then. The boy dressed up in some dress shirt and suspenders, slapped on a newsboy hat, and darted out the house like a scurrying mouse. He came back later stinking like salt water and dirt. Turned out he saved a kid, Peter, from drowning. And it just so happens that Peter is my baby half-brother." He paused for a moment, an irritated look on his face. "Peter hates me for some reason, and I have to constantly lecture the kid on stuff." He shrugged and went back to the story. "By about a month or two after his fourteenth birthday, he had been given the gift of two baby brothers named Feliciano and Lovino. He treated the two like they were the most precious things the world could ever offer, and it was true, to his eyes."

The smile that graced his face when speaking of the two new brothers crashed into a grave frown. "However, when he became eighteen years old, his parents divorced. His mother took Lovino, while his father kept him and Feliciano. It tore his heart when he realized that Feliciano didn't have any idea what was happening, and that the boy thought he would see Lovino again. He didn't know that their mother moved across the ocean to Spain, and married another man."

Gilbert vaguely looked back into one of his memories, remembering Antonio's wedding, but dismissed it, realizing that the chance that Antonio was the man who married Roderich's mother was as low as zero.

"Roderich then began to try and commit suicide, for some reason that I have no idea why."

The whole pub went silent, all men and sailors now having their full attention on Arthur's story.

"Roderich's first attempt ended up in near disaster. He climbed up the tallest tree in the woods nearby and jumped. The only reason he survived was because he was caught by a rather large animal. His second attempt was with a knife. He stabbed himself in the chest and was sent to the hospital. He didn't hit his heart, fortunately. The third attempt was drowning himself. Some sailor saw that Roderich wasn't coming back up and dove for him."

A sailor in the pub looked down, taking off his hat in a sorry solute.

"His fourth attempt was the worst. He tried to hang himself. And his brother caught him."

If it was possible, the pub went even more silent than before, not even the simple sounds of breath filling the room. Gilbert was stalk still, trying to process the information through his head. A nobleman trying to kill himself, and failing every time.

"The fifth time was a little better, easier. He locked himself in his room and planned to starve to death. I, however, was visiting at the time for some official business with his father, and noticed the boy coughing. He was obviously ill." With another sigh, Arthur pulled out a chair and sat down. "I had to break the door open and force feed him. I gave him a good, hard lecture, and forced him to tell me everything. Well, almost everything. He wouldn't tell me why he was trying to kill himself in the first place, but for sure, I know it wasn't because of the divorce. There was something that seemed to be forcing him."

"What if I told you I could figure that out?"

"And what if I told you it was impossible?"

A long pause filled the air, choking on all who remained in the old pub. Gilbert kept his gaze locked onto Arthur's emerald ones, not wavering in the slightest. His hands sweated, and his insides churned.

"What if I told you that I have no limits?" Gilbert said, defying all that Arthur had gave to him. He got up, slid his empty cup to the Briton, and left wordlessly. If he had stayed any longer, he might've caught the mysterious glint in Arthur's eyes, as his lips curled upwards in mischief. He whipped out a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it up over the candle that flickered in the middle of the table. He set it on his lips and took a drag, huffing it out expertly.

"I'd say go for it."

As soon as Gilbert exited the pub, the boisterous clattering and singing began in full blast, sending the now deserted roads into an echoing mess. The stars were now lit up in the sky, and the cobble turned cold and frosty. Dark clouds subjugated the skies, barely letting the bright, outer space objects shine through. The sun had long since set over the horizon, past the island, with a crescent moon barely visible past the houses and mills. Crickets played, and wild rabbits and dogs scampered feverishly across the stones in search for shelter. Roderich was long gone.

"Well, guess I'll come by here tomorrow to see the aristocrat. Probably visit the pub again, if he looses that kid. What's his name again? Veneziano? Something like that. Sounded a bit long. Whatever, I know what he and the kid looks like, it's good enough for me." With a shrug, he trotted out to the nearest inn, suitcase still clutched in his calloused hands. His head bobbed left to right to the loud music that played, more sailors screaming louder than the pub. A woman with orange, braided hair and dressed in overalls walked over, glasses giving her eyes a bigger look.

"Hey their, mister! You lookin' for a place to stay the night?"

Gilbert slowly nodded, a little disturbed by the girl's sudden casualty. "I'm not sure how long I'll be staying, I'll pay after every night. I prefer not to share a room, if that's okay."

The girl nodded, laughing more loudly and proudly than all of the sailors. "Sure thing, mister! Just need your first an' last name! I'll be working out the rest after that!" Gilbert chuckled, giving out his name. He sat down at a nearby table, legs crossed as he wondered about the story he was given by the bartender, Arthur. Roderich was obviously suicidal, if the point didn't come across to you people who read. But if he was so determined to kill himself, he needed a reason to do so. Not only that, but why did he stop in the first place? You can't just suddenly stop like that, no other person who is suicidal would. He obviously had some reason, for sure. Now all that Gilbert needed was some background story, and he'll be on his way to cracking this case.

"You know, I'm not sure if you followed me or if you're really just here to get a room for the night. Both, maybe?"

Gilbert's eyes snapped up, meeting with the violet ones that he was so mesmerized with before, and still is. He cracked a grin, noticing the amused glint in the aristocrat's eyes, and laughed proudly. "Nope. Just wanted a place to stay. I didn't even think you'd be here, so this must be a bonus. Kinda been wondering about you. You're a bit strange."

"I know." Roderich said, sitting down casually in one of the seats, a way that a noble would never have done, no matter what the place. "And I honestly do not care."

Gilbert laughed harder. "Yup, not like any noble I've heard of! You're an interesting guy, I say! Not only do you act different, but you look different too!"

"And I assume you are saying that because of my unusually purple eyes?"

Gilbert shook his head. So the aristocrat didn't know how much of a lady killer he was, huh? (Though, Gilbert had no idea how true that was.) Then again, he was a man killer as well, wasn't he? Considering that sailors gawked at his lithe figure and perfect arse. Unblemished, mealy skin and sharp, crystal eyes, with his brown, defining hair and full lips. A button nose and slender, delicate fingers that seemed to look as if it could break it you held them. Men usually did not look like this, and it seemed that Roderich either didn't care, or didn't notice. Most likely the latter.

"No. Something else. But that's not all that important, right? Anyways, why do you act so differently, huh? Someone teased you about being too prissy and you just snapped, maybe?"

"No. And I don't intend on telling you."

"So I'm right."

Roderich furrowed his eyebrows, a bit ticked that Gilbert made such a quick assumption of him just because he didn't feel like answering.

"Hear you, I never snapped at someone for being called prissy. I could seriously care less if someone thought I looked like a gorilla." Gilbert snorted. "The only reason I act this way is because I want to be whoever the hell I want to be, and my father cant keep me locked up in a cage to be someone I'm not." Unless it comes to Feliciano, Roderich added in his head. "But I'd like to ask why you were staring at me from that ship earlier this afternoon. It was a bit strange."

Gilbert thought for a moment, and smirked. Roderich, for once, felt a bit regretful that he even asked, and thought to himself that he maybe shouldn't have approached the albino in the first place. "Well, little master, I thought you looked really different and cleaner than the rest of the little ants hustling around with bread crumbs."

A mischievous grin made it's way up to Roderich's face. "Oh? Is that so? Then I'll be leaving for the time being. My father and Feliciano are probably wondering where I am." He stood up, playing with a ring on his finger for a moment, and threw it toward Gilbert, who caught it with ease. Gilbert inspected the features, noticing the black cross that resembled his iron cross necklace. He also noticed that it looked like the ring he picked up earlier and placed on his finger. It was an exact match.

He looked up to say something to Roderich, but stopped as he noticed that the mysterious aristocrat had disappeared within the sea of rowdy men.