Down the Rabbit Hole

Chapter 22! And I'd like to thank everyone's kind reviews on the last chapter. Rest assured, I am perfectly fine (and returning to my second year of Uni this weekend!) and super hyped to deliver this chapter to you. It's big. It's really big.

Apologises for any grammar/spelling mistakes, let's just jump right in,

Enjoy!

Clubs District, Ivy Avenue, Studio Sage's abandoned Loft

Arthur wasn't sure how long he had perched there frozen in the dark on the rafters. Columbia's words, the promises they had exchanged, ringing in his ears like reverberating church bells.

'Together, or not at all.'

'I want to be with you! I'm freaking in love with you!'

'I'll always be right there with you, you know that.'

Arthur clamped his lips shut when a keening sob rose up inside of him. His chest felt as though it were tearing itself apart, his organs inside screaming to be free.

What poppycock. Poppycock that Arthur had been stupid enough to believe.

Why would he stay?

You can't give him what he wants. You can't fulfil him.

It stung worse than any blow or injury could. Because that was thing about betrayal: the worst part about it was that it never came from your enemies.

Arthur thickly swallowed around the lump in his throat when another sob threatened to break free. His hand slipped beneath his mask when he felt wetness prick at the corners of his eyes.

For god's sake—

No.

No.

He was not doing this. He. Was. Not.

He absolutely refused to cry. He was the Britannia Angel, and by god, he was an Englishman! From a nation notorious for keeping their hearts firmly concealed in their hearts, not flailing them on their sleeve.

That was what he would do. Conceal, don't feel. Stiff upper lip.

He would pretend. He was a machine. He was above emotions, feelings, humanity. There was no pain, because he hadn't a heart to hurt.

He was the Britannia Angel.

Britannia was brought back into the loft when he heard a door shut, and leant over to see that Oz and Columbia had been joined by the vigilante team Nordic; compromising of their leader, King, their sharp shooter, Svea, and of course, Britannia's old friend, North. Gaul smoothly glided in after them before the door shut, and Britannia did not miss the narrowed glare Columbia shot him as the company came together to exchange greetings.

'Gaul.'

'Columbia. Congratulations on your new position with the DIA. I am sure that Germania was most pleased that you finally accepted his invitation.' Gaul returned airily, though the upward curl of his mouth was that of a sly fox; one who knew more than anyone in the room, was well aware of it, and wanted everyone else to be as well.

Columbia gave a stiff nod. 'He was.' He answered as King—his and his team's uniform fashioned after that of a northerner's wardrobe, complete with a fur-lined hooded cloak— looked about the loft for a missing person.

'Yo, Columbia, where's the Britannia Angel? Shouldn't he be here?'

Britannia sighed and straightened out of his crouch, cramped muscles protesting as he stretched.

Time to make an entrance.

Alfred jumped out of his skin alongside everyone else when Arthur—well, Britannia technically— appeared out of thin air with a thud, one leg straight with the one bent as though he'd just stuck an acrobatic landing. The whole room was silent with a tangible awe as Britannia rose out of the pose and began to walk toward them; moving with that practiced gracefulness that all great feline predators had.

Relief had been the first thing he'd felt upon seeing Britannia again, but the longer he looked at him, the more guilt and dread crept up and soured it. He hadn't spoken, nor contacted him since Gaul's last night, but worse than all that, Alfred had no idea how much he had heard about him joining the DIA's Guardian Initiative.

Alfred's gut twisted, and he stepped forward, hand half-extended out, when Britannia breezed right past him and extended his own hand to King.

'King. Thank you for coming.'

'S-sure. No problem,' King stuttered, looking more than a little star-struck, before he pulled himself together, clearing of his throat and gestured to Svea on his left, and North on his right. 'This is Svea, and I know you already know North.'

Britannia nodded and offered Svea the same exchange he had to King, giving the larger man's hand a firm shake and a nod to North before he turned to Oz and did the same.

Alfred waited, his green eyed monster growling as he watched Britannia approach Gaul at the back and allow him to kiss his hand; the snarls increased in volume at the lasciviousness quality of the frenchman's grin as he leered the man up and down.

Done with introductions, Britannia turned around, and Alfred held his breath as their eyes connected—imagining the emerald irises there behind the gas-mask's lenses—only to be broken when the Briton fixed his sights on North. 'A word, North?'

His dejection must of shown because Oz appeared at his elbow and leant in to whisper as they watched Britannia and North walk over to the window. 'Bloody hell. What'd you do to him?'

'Wait. I'm confused. Why'd Britannia just completely blank you? I thought you were working the case together.' King asked with raised brows. Feeling depressed enough, Alfred just offered a small shrug. He didn't have a good answer.

King opened his mouth to ask another question, his dark blond brows furrowed, when he stopped and pressed his finger to his earpiece to listen. He nodded to the invisible voice and waved to Svea and then Alfred and Oz. 'Excuse us fellas. Got the missus on the line.' He grinned, crackling at the outraged response he got on the other end of the comm as he and Svea moved away to leave Alfred and Oz alone.

Seeing the opportunity, Alfred tapped Oz's arm and motioned for him to come closer as to speak in a lower tone. 'Hey, do we have anymore news about the White Woman? Reported sightings, anything?' He muttered and chewed on his lower lip when Oz shook his head.

'Sorry mate, DIA's had nothing for days. She hasn't cropped up in any nearby cities or states, meaning she's still laying low in Terra. Got Germania eating his shorts over it,' The Ozzy answered at a matching secretive volume and gave Alfred a reassuring nudge when he drooped. 'Don't worry, with all of us keeping an eye out, we'll find her.'

Yeah, Alfred thought to himself as he continued to worry gnaw on his lip. Hopefully they found her before she could find Britannia.

'Britannia?' North asked once they'd stepped out of earshot, and Britannia crossed his arms as he turned to look out of the window into the street below.

'Were you aware that Columbia has joined the DIA? He's joined this 'Guardian Initiative' that is a put together group of—' He cut himself off when he saw the apologetic look on his friend's face. 'You've already joined to, haven't you?'

'Yes. Though at first, I was against it.'

'So why did you agree?'

North tilted his head, and Britannia followed his gaze over to where the Dane laughed explosively with the Swede; an undisguised longing in his stare. 'He's tries hard. He tries so hard to get the best for us, and to him the Guardians Initiative can provide that.'

A line formed between Britannia's brows. 'I see. I suppose Columbia must of felt similarly.'

'He's is not going to ignore you Britannia, just because he's become a Guardian.' North softly reassured, reading Britannia with embarrassing transparency.

The Brit's shoulders slumped. 'I just don't understand. He said that he wanted to be—he wanted he and I to be partners. And now…'

North's hand came to rest on his shoulder, and squeezed. 'Britannia, whatever they are, Columbia will have his reasons. It's rests on you to be patience until he tells you them.'

Britannia nodded his head slowly, processing what the other had said. 'Thank you, North.'

North gave him a warm nod before he moved away back over to King and Svea who had rejoined with Oz and Columbia. Britannia leant against one of the loft's stone column's and watched them smile at North as he returned to his Guardian teammates, a mile away when Gaul appeared at his side. They did not say anything for a long moment, comfortable to stand in an honest silence as they watched; outsiders looking in, separately together.

'Do you ever feel lonely?' Gaul softly asked, leaning in close to speak low enough for only Britannia to hear him.

The only acknowledgment Britannia gave him that he had heard was a sigh and the shifting of his weight from one foot to the other; his eyes not moving from Columbia's smile. 'Do you?'

'Most days,' Gaul confessed with a thoughtful hum, 'though I have quite enjoyed the company of late.'

'Perhaps it could become of a more permanent nature.' Britannia suggested with a raised brow that immediately furrowed when the frenchman captured his chin with a finger to tilt it up.

'Like the old days?'

He was freed with a slap of a wrist. 'Why do you always have to spoil anything? Can't we just have one good thing? Something simple that we can just have?'

Gaul backed off, startled before he regained control of his composure. 'Sex is sex, mon amour. Nothing complicated about it.'

'Things are never "just" anything with you. There's always something behind another, always smoke and mirrors. Just like whatever you have planned when we confront Wang at Spades.'

'Do you trust me Britannia?'

Britannia pressed his lips together as he regarded the man. 'I trust you to act a certain way. That is, in your own best interests.'

'Is that not the same thing?' Gaul grinned and Britannia shuffled to increase the distance between them.

'I like said, smoke and mirrors.' He huffed and was followed up by a long string of silence.

'I suppose, the occasional drink would be doable. I know of an excellent bar in Diamonds,' Gaul proposed, his voice possessing that rare string of honesty that Britannia had so rarely heard in their time together; all pretences dropped.

'Just a drink?' Britannia probed, and Gaul gave the slightest shrug of his shoulders.

'Perhaps it could be our good thing.'

For the first time that evening, Britannia felt himself smile a genuine smile. The waters there murky between them, but perhaps that could change for the better. 'I'd like that.'

In that time, everyone had slowly started to drift over to the large round table that Allistor and Seamus had spent the morning outfitting for the meeting. Each chair was a name card and laptop primed and ready to be used, and it was as Britannia walked over to the table, that he realised with grim anticipation that he was seated between Gaul and Columbia.

Columbia was the only one already sat in his chair, and he looked up then Britannia took to his own with his back perfectly straight. The American coughed with apparent awkwardness and inched his chair closer.

'Are you—how are you doing?'

'I am fine.' Britannia replied cooly, fingers brushing over his keyboard to login as the host of the private chat room Dylan had coded for the occasion.

'You're lying. C'mon, B, please talk to me.' Columbia pleaded, and Britannia wanted to scream at the irony.

'You are unbelievable,' He bitterly laughed and Columbia's face twisted.

'Look B, please I—I know—'

'Don't bother Columbia.'

'Come on, give me a chance here. I'm worried about you, Britannia.'

'Worried? Worried? Oh that is rich. He says he cares.'

'I do!'

'THEN WHERE WERE YOU?!' Britannia near-shrieked before he could stop himself, the choked words bursting free from the most broken part of him. He hated it. He hated how desperate, how weak he was; how endlessly undone Columbia could make him.

Columbia was slack-jawed as the other vigilantes filtered in, each claiming their assigned seats with flush embarrassment; intruding witnesses to something they shouldn't of been. At that point, Britannia didn't care if they had heard his outburst or not. He had allowed Columbia to get under his skin for the last time that night. Now, all there was was this meeting and the mission.

Britannia stood up and loudly clearly his throat to attract the attention of the room, clearly signifying that this was the official start of the meeting.

'I would first like to once again thank everyone for taking the time to come this evening, and I would like to open this meeting by formally introducing myself and my co-ordinating team,' Britannia said, thankfully steady, as he pushed the enter key in front of him and the holo-projector positioned behind his chair lit up as he opened the chatroom; the hologram displaying three icons; a Celtic Knot, a four-leafed clover and a red dragon, to display that Allistor, Seamus and Dylan respectively, had digitally joined the meeting.

'I am the Britannia Angel, with Saxony as my coordinator, Éire my support field operator, and Cymru, my tech expert.'

'Hello.'

'Hey.'

'Evening.' Britannia's brothers greeted, their icons lighting up as they did so. Britannia sat back down, and after a brief questionable pause of 'whose next?', Columbia pushed his seat back to stand.

'Hey, uh— how's it going? I'm Columbia, and Acadia is my co-ordinator.' He said before tapping the enter key on his keyboard as Britannia had and added Matthew—his icon a red maple leaf—to the mix. Oz followed to introduce himself and his coordinator Shepherd, flashing up as a ram.

King was next, and his beam was dazzling as he motioned to his team. 'Check it, I'm King, slick-ass leader number uno. We got North, our "cool"—pun intended—Lucid powered guy. Svea our gun guy, and 'Ice', and 'Suomi' as our coordinators. Gotta say, we're all super pumped to be working with you all like this!'

Britannia suppressed a small smirk at the eye roll North sent his way before he turned right to look alongside everyone at Gaul, whom of course, was the one the majority of the room were least acquainted with.

Gaul rose to his feet and waved his hand with a flourish, the same way one would expect from a member of the royal family. 'Greetings. I am Gaul, and while I may not guard these city streets, I am here to do the same as you: to answer the noble call of heroism!'

'A-anyway,' Britannia quickly hurried on and pressed his spacebar with his index and middle finger to activate the holo-projector at the centre of the table. The first hologram slide of Dylan's presentation was a profile line up of the currently missing neuroscientists.

'As I am sure you are already aware, over the past few weeks, there was been a string of disappearances in the scientific community. The neuroscientists you see before you have been declared missing by officials, but through Columbia's and my own investigation, we have learnt different. This is not a case of disappearances, but rather, kidnappings commissioned by crime lord Yao Wang via a contracted agent known by 'The White Woman'.'

'Queen. The White Queen.' Shepherd cut in

Britannia scowled beneath his mask. 'You know of her?'

'The DIA has been tracking her movements over the past two years as a person with suspected ties to a great house in the Underworld.' Oz clarified, and Britannia's gut clenched. Of-fucking-course. If the DIA had been following her, then wouldn't Columbia also be aware of this to? Implying that Columbia had kept more information from him?

Rather than punch the table like his flash-reflex desired, Britannia suppressed his rage into stiffly turning to stare at Columbia. 'That would of be been nice information to know.' He gritted tightly through his teeth.

The American had the decency to squirm, and Britannia let him for another uncomfortable second before he hit the spacebar again to move on; the profiles of the missing scientists' fading away to be replaced by the screenshots taken of Edelstein's findings on the 'X' experiments, and the rough portrait sketch of 'the White Queen' that Britannia himself had drawn the night that the cruise ship had been hijacked.

'Wang has had the White Queen kidnap a number of neuroscientists, with Doctor Roderick Edelstein being the latest of her victims, to produce a new line of narcotic dubbed 'X'. Before his abduction, Edelstein had in fact been in the experimenting phrase of 'X''s development under the employment of the criminal organisation The Winter Syndicate, led by General Winter.

Through our investigations, Columbia and I learnt that Wang's yakuza and the Winter Syndicate have clashed over 'X' prior, with Wang's men stealing early prototypes of the narcotic, only to be returned through extensive negotiations between the two organisations.'

'Jesus christ,' Ice gasped over the comm line as he read the results of the 'X' experimentations, Britannia grimacing at how young he sounded. With the other Nordics, Britannia saw King grip North's hand tightly, the Norwegian's face pale as he read about the awful effects on Lucid participants. 'This is sick.'

'Barbaric.' Gaul agreed into his hands with his elbows propped on the table.

'Wang only agreed to return the samples he stole through a signing of a non-aggression pact, months before he had the White Queen begin kidnapping the scientists,' Columbia spoke up, his jaw set square. 'We figured that whatever got him to break the pact by kidnapping the Syndicate's lead scientist must be big.

Britannia and I sneaked into one of Wang's properties, The Jasmine Dragon in Hearts, and discovered that he's been stockpiling crates and crates of 'X', planning to ship it all out to his chain of nightclubs 'Cardverse' for a launch event to distribute it onto the drug market.'

'This 'X' cannot go live in Terra.' Svea stated, glasses catching the light just so to wash out the eyes behind them.

Columbia took a deep breath, and pushed his chair back to stand up beside Britannia, hands curled into tight fists. 'That's right, and that's exactly why we've asked you to come here. We need your help to stop this, stop 'X' from getting onto Terra's streets and fucking up hundreds of people's lives. Please, help us.'

Britannia held his breath as he glanced between the vigilantes as they privately conversed with their respective teams, releasing it with a relieved gasp when Oz stood up and nodded with a smile.

'Shepherd and I are with you bolkes.' He grinned before he was proceeded by King to confirming that the Nordics would also help. Britannia nodded gratefully and Gaul smiled at him with silent 'do you even have to ask?'.

In the corner of his eye, Britannia saw Columbia staring at him, offering a hesitate smile. They had done it. They had rallied everyone to a cause, and now they had a chance at stopping Wang's plan and rescuing the missing scientists. They'd done it.

Britannia stared back, the emotional torrent, the crushing weight he'd been carrying since last night thinned out for a few precious seconds, allowing him a chance to breathe, think clearly, before it was snatched away by the skylight above exploding.

Instantaneously, everyone was on their feet, skirting back as a shower of glass rained down from the heavens. Seven sets of feet hit the round table's surface hard and crunched the shards of fallen glass beneath their bare feet.

The intruders were unlike anyone Britannia had ever seen. They were as pale as corpses, white and blue and black, with clawed nails and glowing red eyes that looked as though they had been ripped straight out of Bram Strokes 'Dracula'. It was when the one nearest to him pulled it's blackened lips back to flash it's elongated canines that Britannia knew he had struck uncomfortably close to home.

Vampires. Honest-to-god, vampires.

'Well, Gaul. I would say I'm impressed. This line up is much more impressive than your last security detail.' A heavy Romanian accent chuckled, Britannia narrowing his eyes when the speaker stepped out from the middle of the group to the front. Like North, he knew that the man they faced was Lucid, and more than likely the vampire ringleader, his crimson eyes strikingly brighter than his lackeys' as they latched onto Gaul.

'What is this?' Britannia demanded, and the lead vampire's eyes went wide when they shifted onto him.

'I certainly was not expecting to encounter the Britannia Angel tonight. However, I have no qualms with you, exalted one. I merely wish to speak with our mutual information broker here.'

'I have already given you my answer, Vladimir. I have no intention of assisting in your search.' Gaul proclaimed, and there was a gasp from the Nordics' side of the table.

'You're looking for the identity of the Angel.' North revealed, making Britannia's head snap back to the vampire with alarm. This man—Vladimir, was searching for him, and intended to use Gaul to do so.

'I am disappointed that you are not willing to cooperate Gaul. I was reluctant to bring violence into this if you would not comply, but if there is no other way—'

'Over my dead body.' Britannia hissed, muscles tensing to spring, when Vladimir smiled and something akin to a small car ploughed into him.

Britannia could hear the cries of the other vigilantes as his back smacked the wooden flooring, and scrambled to get both heels between him and the snapping vampire, to continue their frenzied momentum and launch the monster off him. Head wheeling, Britannia staggered to his feet, swaying as he Bled and summoned Excalibur into his hand with a brilliant flash of golden light; the blade's weight empowering in his hand whilst it's edge hummed with anticipation of slaying the blasphemous undead creature.

'It's only fair to warn you,' Britannia growled, aware his own lips were being pulled back in a dark gleeful grin behind the mask as he gripped the sword's handle in both hands and sank into his stance. God, he wanted this. He needed an outlet. The bloodier, the better. 'I've had a really bad day.'

The stupid creature sprang for his jugular anyway. Britannia spun, a single swing to separate it's head from it's shoulders. It's stony body exploded into to grey powdered ash before it could so much as hit the floor.

There was a stunned silence as Britannia slowly turned back toward his audience and raised the shining blade level to the evil horde. 'So whose next then?'

Afterward, Britannia's mind would only be able to remember a few details of the ensuing chaos when both parties threw themselves at each other; Svea, King and Gaul, all weaponless, being herded to the back; North summoning wave after wave of ice to ward back the vampires, and Oz doing his best to assist; Columbia shoving his way through the fighting to try to reach him.

And well, as for himself, Britannia had flipped his brain onto auto-pilot; entering a hyper focused trance in which he did not think nor feel, only move. His movements were fluid, lost in the tempo, as he weaved and dodged and danced around the vampires. The vampires were fast, but the constant sway and banish of Excalibur prevented them from closing the distance; a lesson that two vampires—now ashen piles at Britannia's feet—had learnt when they had tried to rush him.

'Don't move or I tear out his throat!' Shouted a vampire, yanking Britannia back into the room, his spacial awareness kicking back in as his tunnel vision widened. About five metres and turned away from him, was Columbia, rigidly still with a black vampire digging his claws threateningly into his neck to draw thin stripes of red.

The whole room froze, and Britannia moved on instinct. Excalibur whistled through the air, and erupted through the black vampire's chest. No blood, no noise—too shocked, the black vampire stared down at the sword sprouted out through his still heart before he withered to ash.

However, the victory was short lived. Seeing that Britannia was now weaponless, Vladimir saw his chance and took it.

Britannia was barely able to register the shift of all eyes locking onto him, before the whole room tilted and with a splintering smash of floors wooden boards, he was tumbling in free-fall.

Sharp claws sunk into his side to draw a splitting scream from him as they fell, and it was all Britannia could to twist his free body out from under Vladimir's cold one, his side burning as he kicked the monster spinning away and collided hard with the concrete floor. All air was forcibly expelled from his lungs upon the crunching impact, and all of Britannia's attempts to draw it back in resulted in a pitiful high whine.

The floor they had fallen into was like that of an abandoned firehouse, as high and dusty as the loft above it, though with no natural lighting; making the shadows vast and looming behind the column supports. Britannia wheezed when he forced himself to roll onto all-fours, the resulting fire that ripped up his side at the action pulling out a strangled cry; when he touched his hand to his side, the glove came away a dark red.

'Mmm~ Is that your blood?' Vladimir purred, his voice echoing off the walls to make it's point of origin indistinguishable.

Heart beating as though it were a helicopter propeller lifting off, Britannia's limbs shook as he struggled to stand, when his neck was encased and he was lifted off his feet to be slammed against one of the columns. He choked around around Vladimir's iron grip, thrashing and lashing against it for all he was worth, but it was as hopeless as attacking a statue. The vampire's eyes glowed crimson as they ran up and down Britannia's form with a hunger, zeroing in on his bloody side that continued to weep.

'Pardon the pun Britannia, but you smell absolutely divine.'

Vladimir's claws came up and Britannia compressed the pain into a drawn-out groan as he dung into the wound he had inflicted with the same cruel curiosity a cat had when playing with their food. Britannia's breaths became laboured, sucking in and out quick, shallow gasps as Vladimir touched his stained fingers to his lips and licked them with a shiver. The Briton's thrashing turned hysterical when the man's bloody lips pulled back over his fangs with a snarl and using his free hand, yanked down the hem of his suit to expose the bare skin of his neck, goose-bump riddled and sweat-slick.

'Don't resist, it will only hurt more.' Vladimir chuckled before he reared and sank his teeth in.

Britannia screamed. Searing agony speared through his veins like molten silver, short-circuiting his nervous system to shut down. Green eyes began to roll up in their sockets as Britannia went limp and Vladimir clutched onto him; drinking his blood in long, deep pulls, making Britannia's vision darken with each gluttonous, sloppy gulp.

Move! What are you doing!

Fight back! You can't just die now,

what about Alfred? What about

your brothers?

What about them?

They'll just leave you,

like Columbia.

What is the difference between

the Red Queen and a Hurricane?

You are going to die if you don't move!

For god's sake, please!

Why bother?

Don't be a spoilsport.

I'll tell you: both are cruel and

destructive, but only one

means to be!

It's better this way.

Alfred will be safe from Hatter.

No!

What about your brothers?

Who will protect them?

This reminds me of a poem!

"He took his vorpal sword in hand:

Long time the manxome foe

he sought—

Allistor, Seamus and Dylan,

will be able to move on and lead proper lives.

Haven't you hurt them enough?

No. I'm…not done—

One, two! One, two!

And through and through

The vorpal blade went

snicker-snack!

No one will mourn you,

only your usefulness.

No…

It's over.

He left it dead—

Please—

and with it's head—

Alfred—

he went galumphing back."

Over the voices, over the sick slapping of skin against skin, and the slurps, Arthur's ears rang as he felt his heart beat lull slow and heavy, each breath weaker than the last, when all of a sudden, Vladimir was ripped from him.

Britannia crumpled boneless to the ground, dark bloats over his vision to blind him.

'Arthur—' Someone called out—someone real, not just a voice—and Britannia distantly heard his raw throat gasp when something cold pressed against his pulsating throat, sealing close the profusely bleeding bite whilst wrapping Britannia in images of peppermint, shaved ice and frost crystals; dowsing and soothing the fire that had coursed through him.

He tried to open his mouth, to talk, but his tongue was clumsy, his mind liquified soup. Instead, he learnt into the cool person's touch, and gratefully passed out; trusting the tingle of his healing magic to have the damage repaired by the time he would be ready to wake up again.

When Britannia stirred, blinking the fuzziness from his eyes, he became aware that he was being cradled into someone's arms as they wept. Britannia blinked again, slowly, and made out the navy blue and silver star that belonged to Columbia. He watched for a moment, fascinated by the ragged bob and shudder of the American's frame before he shifted and drew the crying hero's attention.

'B-B-Britanni-a?—' Columbia sobbed, his grip tightening around Britannia on the point of suffocation, making Britannia squirm. 'Oh my god. Oh my god, I thought you were dead. I thought you were dead. I'm sorry, I am so so sorry.'

'Columbia—'

'Gaul was right. I'm pathetic and weak and I'm not worthy- I'm not strong enough.'

'Columbia! You are—Uh! Crushing—me!' Britannia choked and gasped heavily when the Columbia released his as if he had burnt him.

'Sorry! I'm sorry I—'

'If you say "sorry" one more time, I'm going to smack you so hard you'll be seeing double for the next week,' Britannia glared, rubbing his sore throat before he reached up to capture the American's chin and tilted it down to him. 'I am alright, just a little sore and slow. Now, what is this prattle that you're going on about not being worthy?'

Columbia's brows pulled together, and he moved Britannia's hand from his chin to his cheek and nuzzled into it. 'It's—something Gaul said made me realise something important. I'm not a hero in the same league as you B. As it is now, if I tried to be your official partner, I'd just be seen as second rate in the eyes' of the public. If I'm going to be taken seriously, the name Columbia has to stand for something.'

'And that's why you joined the DIA?' Britannia muttered softly, tracing the faint dusting of freckles on Columbia's cheek as the man nodded. 'I see…'

'I should of told you. I just—I knew that if I did, you've have tried to talk me out of it…And I don't think I could of said no to you.'

Britannia dropped his gaze, swallowing thickly as he stared at Columbia's chest instead, leaning in to rest his head where his heart beat and listened; he found it steady and sure. 'Is this what you want Columbia? Truly?'

'Yes,' Columbia promised, his face tender, yet determined with solid conviction, as he gazed down at Britannia in his arms. 'Yes it is.'

'Then I accept that. You have my support, whatever you do,' Britannia assured before he sat up to look at Columbia properly, his hand pushing back firmly against his chest, over the American's heart. 'However, if we are to be partners after this, real partners, then we have to have complete trust in each other. That means we do not keep secrets from each other, ever.'

Columbia winced, an invisible battle of shadows moving behind his eyes. 'Even if the truth will hurt you?'

Britannia squeezed his hand over Columbia's chest. 'I don't care how terrible it is. There can't be any secrets. Nothing that can used to drive us apart.'

Columbia regarded him for a long, strained moment before he bit down on his lip and reluctantly nodded. Britannia smiled at him, even as he felt the corners of his vision start to darken again.

He heard Columbia call out his name, and he might of replied, had his head not been so comfortable in the crook of Columbia's neck; warm and safe enough to fall asleep into.

'Britannia? Arthur?' Alfred whispered when he felt Arthur's head loll against his collarbone, tucking snugly in under the crook of his neck. Only after a few seconds of listening to the Brit's deep breathing to reassure himself that he was asleep, did Columbia shift his grip and tap his earpiece to open his comms to Matthew.

'Acadia? You there?'

'Yeah— Yeah I'm here. You okay? Everyone else is fine, though Svea took a bit of a hit for King after North went after Britannia—'

'Can you patch in Saxony and co. in? I need you all to hear this.'

There was a low murmur of voices before a fresh static pop resounded on the line as the Kirkland brothers joined.

'What is it lad? Is it Britannia? His life support readings read fine.' Allistor's voice spoke.

'Britannia's fine, North saved him in time. I've got him sleeping right now. I'd actually like to ask if I come have the apartment, for just Britannia and myself tonight, when we get back.' Columbia pleaded, distracting himself from gnawing on his lip by watching the soothing rise and fall of Arthur's breathing.

There was a pause.

'Of course you can lad, but I have to ask. Why?'

Columbia took a deep breath and steeled himself. This was it. This was it.

'I'm going to him. I'm going to tell Britannia the truth of who I really am.'

"Oh my god!- Okay, it's happening. Everyone, stay calm- Everyone stay calm-"

"What's the procedure everyone? What's the procedure?"

"STAY FUCKING CALM!"

...

But I digress ;)

Unbelievably huge chapter for characterisation and plot. So many different types of relationships are explored; North and King, Britannia and Gaul (I think I defined their relationship pretty well in a line: murky water) and Britannia and Columbia. The characterisation pretty much speaks for itself: we see how (badly) Britannia is coping under all the emotional stress, how 'X' is slowly starting to cause his mind to deteriorate, make him hear voices and make us question just how sane is he now. So many pieces clicked together in this chapter, and I loved just amping, and amping the pressure gauge for our heroes.

Next chapter, oh boy, next chapter. The big reveal. The Big Reveal. The moment we've all been screaming and shouting and crying for. I don't want to spoil anything for you, but if you thought this chapter was emotional, I promise you will not survive the next one :3

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you are liking this story, then please take the time to consider leaving a review telling me your thoughts, opinions and questions. Once again, thank you for reading and as always,

Until next time folks!