So, this is kind of a magical-western-steampunk AU loosely based on Firefly – at least, in as much as one of the main characters is a gifted child who was taken and experimented on because of his powers only to be saved by his overprotective older brother and end up on a pirate ship full of odd space pirates.

Alfred cursed as he made his way back to the rundown building where he'd rented a small room. The town was crawling with soldiers on the lookout for "a dangerous criminal escaped from the nearby prison." Hah. They'd failed to mention the part where their "criminal" was a fourteen-year-old boy whose only crime was having powers they couldn't understand and a father who hadn't hesitated to sell him out the moment Alfred turned his back.

It was not going to be easy getting Matthew out. Already he'd been stopped three times, forced to examine a poster decorated with his baby brother's desperate, terrified face without beating the men holding it into pulp, and only managing to escape after he'd convinced them that he was just Al Jones, no relation to Matthew Kirkland despite the unfortunate resemblance.

He'd hoped to have a chance to better disguise Matthew, but with the way the soldiers were combing the town, it was only a matter of time before someone – most likely the owner of the room he'd rented – recognized the picture.

"Are you ready to go, Matt?" Opening the door to the small room, Al flinched at the fright in Matthew's haunted violet eyes, no longer the bright blue they had once shared. "Hey, hey, it's just me. It's alright, Mattie."

"They're coming." Matthew was shaking, seeming to fade out of existence before Alfred's eyes "They want to take me back. Al..."

"I know. I won't let them touch you." Alfred tried to reassure him, slipping easily into the French that their mother had taught them as he bit his lip to overcome the urge to look elsewhere, the notion that there was nothing for him to find in the space where his brother sat.

It was a defensive mechanism, one that Matthew seemed to have no control of when the fear was too great, a twisted form of a child's ability to deflect unwanted attention. One that Alfred did his best to ignore, because the first time it had hit him, that first time when he had turned away from his baby brother moments after finding him, had almost shattered what was left of Matthew's spirit.

"Mattie." Alfred grasped Matthew's hand, breathing a sigh of relief as the physical contact tore away the mental pressure. "I need you to stay with me, okay? Loop your fingers here," he held Matthew's hand against his hip, needing the touch to allow him to concentrate on other matters. "I got us a way out of here, but we have to get there first. Do you think you can stay hidden 'til we get to the ship?"

Matthew looped his fingers through the loose loop of Alfred's belt, pressing into his side. "...I'll try," Matthew whispered into Alfred's shirt. "I don't want to go back, Al."

"Just stay hidden as long as you can. If you think it's gonna fade, let me know fast." Alfred draped his jacket around Matthew's too-thin body, pulling the hood up to hide his face in shadows. He hadn't seen enough of Matthew's talent to trust it entirely. "We might have to run, but I'm not letting them get you, you got that?"

Matthew nodded, but Alfred could feel the unease radiating from every inch of his body. It was understandable, Alfred was nervous too, and he hadn't been the one trapped in hell for two years.

"You just hold on to me," Alfred patted the hand at his belt. "Don't let go for anything."

"I won't."

With one last check to make sure that he could reach the gun holstered at the small of his back without trouble, Alfred grabbed his pack and opened the door to the small hotel room, swaggering out like a man without a care in the world. Smirking at the maid, Alfred breathed a sigh of relief when she didn't seem to see Matthew, winking at her as he walked past with Matthew safely between him and the wall.

It was working.

Stepping out onto the busy street had Matthew whimpering into Alfred's side, his hands shaking. Subtly stroking his arm, Alfred began to whistle a bright tune as he walked, ducking down a side street that he knew would lead straight to the docks. He didn't want to risk bumping into someone who might notice the person in the apparently empty space beside him.

"Al-"

The reason for Matthew's whimper of fear was a pair of soldiers, walking past the exit from the alley. Alfred froze in place, reaching down and checking for his gun. He didn't want to get in a fight, but he would if he had to.

Luckily the soldiers passed by without looking down the dark alley, and Alfred breathed out a sigh of relief as he hurried out and down to the dock, ignoring the wooden ships that bobbed in the water as he set his sights to the airship floating above the furthest berth.

The Hawk.

"Almost there," Alfred muttered out loud, mostly for Matthew's sake. The hand at his belt tightened.

"Oi!" The cheerful cry had Matthew cringing into Alfred's back, and Alfred turned warily to see the airship's captain grinning at him. "You got the money?"

"I already paid you 30 triners." It was a rather high price, nearly the equivalent of two days' wages for Alfred back when he was working, but given that Alfred had been promised privacy and meals, it was worth it. The fact that it was Arthur's money paying for the safe passage only made it better – Alfred had stolen enough money from Arthur's safe to buy a small island when he ran away to hunt Matthew down.

"That's for you. It'll be thirty more for the kid," Matthew's head shot up, peeking around Alfred nervously.

"He can see me?"

"What-" Alfred shot a look around, pulling Matthew closer. "Keep your voice down!" he hissed at Gilbert. There were no soldiers in earshot, but that was no reason to let his guard down. "I'll give you five."

One pale brow rose, as Gilbert laughed. "fifteen, but only 'cause he's cute."

The predatory tone of Gilbert's voice had Alfred's hackles up, but it was a fair enough price and Alfred slipped the coins from his bag, pressing them against Gilbert's hand and grabbing hold, squeezing tight enough to hurt. "He's fourteen, and if you or any of your crew touch him, I'll put a bullet between their eyes."

"Whatever you say, princess," Gilbert laughed the warning off, pocketing the coins and raising his hands to look non-threatening. Then he swaggered to the rope ladder, bowing like a circus ringmaster, "Welcome aboard The Hawk."

Matthew laughed, small and quiet and barely audible. That alone was enough to make Alfred smile – maybe he wouldn't have to kill anyone after all – tugging Matthew along and helping him up the ladder before following him up, biting his lip sharply when the absence of Matthew's touch had him looking right through Matthew, only sheer determination keeping Alfred from forgetting Matthew entirely.

"Mattie!" Alfred pulled himself clumsily up over the edge of the deck, eyes darting around frantically until a small hand grasped his arm, and Matthew slowly faded into view beside him. "Shit, Mattie, don't do that to me."

"I'm sorry!" Matthew seemed to shrink, his eyes wide and innocent.

"Hey, it's not your fault. Come here," Alfred held out his arms, letting Matthew curl up against him like a kitten, stick-thin arms wrapped around Alfred's neck.

"Aww, isn't that cute?" Gilbert cooed as he jumped up, something in his tone almost genuine. "Come on, then, your cabin's down here."

Hardly seeming to care that Alfred stood with Matthew still in his arms, Gilbert led them across the ship, down a flight of stairs to a small room where most of the space was taken up by the two bunks sticking out of the wall, one several feet above the other. "You sleep here, dinner's at seven, breakfast's at eight, and lunch is at one. I'll have someone take you to the mess tonight, but after that, you're on your own. If you don't show up for meals, 'Lise'll probably let you grab something from the kitchen, though I'd be careful to avoid Basch. He's the type to shoot first and spit on your corpse if he thinks you're a threat to his sister. Any questions?"

"He has a bird on his head." Matthew tugged at Alfred's sleeve, smiling at the small golden puffball that had fluttered down to nest on Gilbert's hair sometime during their walk.

"He does," Alfred whispered back. "Should we tell him?"

Matthew shook his head, eyes bright as he watched the bird. He looked almost happy, for the first time since Alfred had broken him out, and Alfred couldn't help but be grateful to the obnoxious captain and his little feathered passenger for that.

And that's where I left off...