Ludwig never thought he would have to see Feliciano again. He was quite proud of himself, after all. After all the times he had stared at his phone, battling the different voices in his head, taking another swig of beer.

He hadn't called Feliciano, even now. Even when the world was crashing around his feet, all his superiors were dead or in a trauma unit, and everyone was coming to him and demanding answers.

No, he had called the Russian.

Ludwig paced, a bad habit of his, ignoring the alerts of his phone. The emails would be there after the meeting, no need worrying about them now. Ludwig took the phone out of his pocket, then replaced it.

Ivan knocked, popping his head in. Ludwig turned so quickly, he was worried it appeared as if he was eager. He didn't want to have this meeting. He didn't like hiring people like Ivan, but the man still walked in, arm extended for a handshake and a check.

"Ludwig," Ivan greeted warmly, voice like honey, "so good to be seeing you again."

Ludwig shook his hand brusquely. "I wish it was under happier circumstances. I'm sorry to call you from Bulgaria, but the Council…" There wasn't much of a Council in England anymore. The other Councils were panicking. "We needed help."

Ivan smiled. "Of course! There's been quite the ripple in my little community. People have been looking up old techniques and working on them. Speculation." Ivan wiggles his fingers. "All very exciting."

Ivan was probably one of the witches participating in the speculation. Ludwig had the file on the man, and the record was far from clean. Everyone had heard of the Russian, who worked outside the respected realms.

"We need a list of everyone with a familiar," Ludwig said, hand pulling out his phone, unlocking it, then placing it on the table. "And their locations, if possible. They need to be brought in for questioning."

Ivan tilted his head, broad shoulders shrugging. "I'm afraid I can't do that."

Ludwig locked his phone, grunting. "Can I ask why?"

"I'm simply not sensitive enough for that." Ivan waved at the door behind him. "But, I did suspect you would require this from me. So, I brought a backup. He is much better at reading the… Disturbances. And more than willing to help."

And Ludwig knew before he even looked up. Feliciano stood in the doorway, lingering, smile not as wide as it should have been. Ludwig's mouth was suddenly too dry, and he somehow managed to send his phone sliding across the table. It let out one last beep before falling silent.

Ivan took a seat, smiling at the awkward silence hanging in the air.

"I—Feliciano." Ludwig's palms were sweaty. Professional. "Mr. Vargas," Ludwig tried again, "thank you for agreeing to help me. Us. The Council."

Ludwig had said something wrong. He could tell by the way Feliciano's face fell slightly, how the other man didn't walk right into the room. But then the smile was back, and Feliciano stood next to where Ivan was sitting.

Ludwig should say something, but it wasn't his turn to do that. Feliciano blinked at him, and Ludwig felt very tired. Witches lived long lives. Sometimes, it seemed too long. The time stretched between them, complicated.

"You look like you need a nap!" Feliciano said finally. "Yes, no, Ludwig, I'm here to help! I know you're really busy, and I've already been on the lookout for things, any new things, and I haven't really felt anything."

And it would have been easy to fall back into everything. God, so easy to ask how everything had been, if Feliciano wanted something to eat, how his brother was. If he had raised the dead recently.

Ludwig only nodded, once. "Thank you."

Ivan clapped his hands together, rising, but the door opened.

"Are you the person in charge?!" Alfred snapped, pushing by Feliciano and Ivan. "Because I've been fucking wandering around this shitty hotel for two hours, and I'm half ready to fucking kill someone. Fuck, man!"

Ivan looked at him. "You are rude."

Alfred whipped around, snarl on his lips, but Ludwig banged his fist on the table. Alfred turned around again, crossing his arms.

"Look, I've told this to, like, fucking fifteen people today. You have to let Kiku—yes, Kiku Honda—out! That's fucking illegal. You guys are seriously interrogating him and he's barely conscious!" Alfred threw his arms into the air. "Get one of those—argh, what do you call them, death people."

Feliciano waved, though Alfred couldn't see the action behind him. "That's me and Ivan!"

Alfred barely turned his head. "See? There! Have them tell you that Kiku didn't do anything! And you're rude," Alfred spat, glaring at the three other people in the room.

Ludwig felt a headache begin to gnaw at the base of his skull. He massaged the bridge of his nose, glasses nearly falling off of his face. "Mr. Jones, shouldn't you be back in America? You're lucky you aren't in a cell next to Mr. Honda, to be perfectly honest. And you should refrain from yelling at my colleagues."

"It's illegal—"

"No, it's really not," Ludwig cut in quickly. "You and Honda are one of the onlysurvivors. You should both be questioned. We've taken your claims seriously, and we've called in someone to search for everyone with familiars." Ludwig met Feliciano's eyes and quickly looked away. "But you are a guest in this country. And you have no proof you aren't responsible, no names."

Alfred glared, and it almost looked like a pout from where Ludwig was standing.

Ludwig closed his eyes. "If you could remember something other than the fact the attacker had a familiar, we could go from there, but you have nothing."

"I didn't see anyone," Alfred said, mouth twisted in distaste.

Ludwig gritted his teeth and opened his eyes. "Feliciano, Mr. Vargas, would you like somewhere quiet to concentrate?"