Dro: You guys didn't like last chapter, did you? -snorts- Not enough action, eh? Trust me, I could tell. (I only got ten reviews.) So, how about some action this chapter?

Chapter Summary: Lovino gets a visitor. Or two. Or more. (Sorry, I didn't get to anything else I promised. This scene ended up a little longer than I imagined it.)

Warnings: Violence; Language

Disclaimer: Well, I now have all ten seasons of Stargate SG-1 on DVD. Guess who's not buying the rights to APH?

Pacing. He'd always hated pacing. He found it inane and annoying to watch. But now he found himself doing exactly that, back and forth, back and forth, from one end of his cell to another. Ever since he'd heard that news broadcast, he'd been on edge. He was absolutely sure that the perpetrator of the Berlin bombing was not a copycat. It simply couldn't be. The authorities in the nations were still on careful watch, even years later, for any signs of, well, anything out of the ordinary. Crime had been significantly reduced after the rebuilding had finally reconnected the world and jumpstarted the economy again. The odds of there being an attempted copycat bombing—much less a successful one—were incredibly slim. And it was just…it was just done too perfectly. Not to mention they had no suspects. At all. Nor any possible motives.

Except for, perhaps, revenge. Ivan was a dead ringer for this. It had to be him, as insane as it sounded. Because Lovino was perfectly aware of how crazy his theory was. The man was dead. He had seen the man die. The bastard's body had been blown up. So how could he possibly be alive? But that was just it. Because who on Earth would suspect a "dead man" until it was far too late? If Ivan had somehow returned from the dead, then he would certainly be playing that angle. No doubt about it. The more he thought about this, the more it made sense.

And the more vulnerable he felt. He was in prison. He was like a bird in a cage. If Ivan was out for revenge, then Lovino had no doubt in his mind that he would be hearing from the man soon. Ivan didn't do things halfway. He never had. Which left Lovino in a very awkward position. He could break out of this prison, but then he'd be in even more trouble with the law. And if he was wrong about Ivan being back, then he would be left in a really bad position with the entire world. But if he was right, then he might have been able to join up with the rest of the nations (who had to have known what was going on by now) and help fight the Russian bastard. Of course, he had a third option, but that one wasn't much more appealing than the others.

He could wait.

But that would be insanely dangerous. If Ivan sent someone after him—or God forbid, came himself—then Lovino wasn't sure he could escape from whoever came to take him out. He could get past a few prison guards, but anyone Ivan sent out would be much more skilled. He couldn't take down but so many people unarmed, especially in the tight confines of a prison facility, especially when he would have to actually break out of his cell first. Which left him confused as to what to do. If he took his chances and fled, he could end up in deep trouble with the rest of the world. But if he did nothing, he could easily end up dead if his theory about Ivan was right.

"You've been on edge lately."

He jumped and whipped around. Slowly, he relaxed, realizing it was only one of his regular guards. He shook his head. "My apologies. I've been listening to some bad news lately."

The guard frowned. "Ah, you mean Berlin? I hear they're having real tough times now. It's a shame. You would think the terrorists would have settled down for a least a few more years."

He nodded, working the tightness out of his shoulder. "I agree." He most definitely did not agree. "But it seems some people just don't learn their lesson." Now that he could go for. Because as smart as Ivan was, he just wouldn't give up, no matter how bad the odds or how heavy the damages. That was his one major weakness. He just wouldn't accept defeat. And apparently that flaw extended into the afterlife.

"I wouldn't worry too much about it if I were you," the guard replied. "I'm sure they'll catch the people responsible soon enough. God knows the world has enough security forces for this kind of thing now."

Lovino sighed inwardly. They could have all the security they wanted. Nothing would stand in Ivan's way of getting what he wanted. His prior defeat had been at the hands of luck. And if the luck had now shifted in the Russian's favor, then they were most assuredly all doomed. But there was no reason to alert the poor guard to that. "I'm sure you're right. But I just can't help but be a little jittery, you know?"

The man nodded sincerely. "I understand perfectly." He began to rant on about something Lovino didn't even hear. Because Lovino's attention had been torn from the guard as soon as his well-trained eyes caught an abnormal movement from his periphery. The kind of movement associated with sneaking silently up to kill someone.

"Hey, my throat's been hurting for the past few days," he said abruptly. "And now I'm starting to feel a little light-headed. You think you can go talk to the doctor for me, see if he'll let me have a quick checkup?" Get out of here. Get out of here now.

The guard blinked and furrowed his brows, obviously confused as to why Lovino had so suddenly brought this up. "Um, well, I suppose. You have a fever?"

"Not sure. But I'm starting to feel worse."

The man nodded, a hint of suspicion in his eyes. "Very well. I can just escort you with some backup if you're feeling that bad."

Damn you! Damn you, you stupid—

The guard was dead before he hit the ground.

The knife had been thrown so hard that it had cut through his skull with his little resistance. Lovino saw them now. There were three, hiding within the shadows, moving within them like ghosts. No doubt they had already disabled the cameras. No doubt they would be able to kill him in seconds. He caught the glint of another knife, and he dropped just as it flew overhead, embedding itself in the wall behind him. I am so dead. He was trapped in a metal cage, unarmed, with three highly trained assassins coming for him. Damn it. I should have taken my chances and made a run for it. Now he was out of time. And he was most definitely out of luck.

Or not.

Just as the trio closed in on him, three shots rang out, and they quickly retreated, taking up defensive positions. At first, Lovino thought it was more guards, but a hooded figured rushed down the hallway instead, and as if on cue, Lovino's automatic cell door opened. He dashed out of the cell and darted for the figure, who tossed him another gun. Then they ran for it. A jail hallway was no place for a fight between assassins.

The alarm finally went off a few seconds later, but that didn't prompt them to stop. They rushed by the occupied cells of confused inmates, some of whom apparently thought this was just a standard breakout attempt. Lovino would have laughed at them if he'd had the breath, but several years in a cell had damaged his physical capacity, and running at speeds he hadn't in such a long while was beginning to take its toll on him. Worse yet, the assassin trio was catching up.

Lovino glanced at his mysterious savior, who seemed to be intentionally hiding his face. The hood had fallen back, only to reveal hair meticulously covered by a black head wrap and a face mask covering the man from the nose down. Well, I guess I won't be figuring out this one for a while yet. Of course, that was probably the least of his concerns. A line of guards stood in their way, guns poised to shoot. But when they saw the three assassins aiming their weapons at the other two men, they become visibly panicked and confused. This was not the standard situation they had been trained for. And Lovino really didn't have the patience for this.

Without hesitation, both he and the mysterious man leapt over the line of guards, landed, and kept going. The mystery man seemed to know his way around the prison, and he took a sharp left when he reached the end of the hallway. Kitchen exit. Of course. It was a cramped space with an even more cramped exit, but it was the closest and fastest way out, so Lovino followed the man without complaint. Just as they neared the cafeteria entrance, Lovino heard a series of distinct, sharp shrieks of pain and fear. The prison guards had apparently decided to aim for the trio. Fools, he couldn't help but think. Sometimes you really just should mind your own business.

Two minutes later they were out the kitchen's back door and into the loading facility where food deliveries came. As soon as his feet touched the concrete, Lovino felt a deep sense of relief. He hadn't been outside much in the last few years. His abilities posed too great a threat for him to be let outside in the yard too often. Abilities which were now coming in handy as the duo quickly scaled the fence, craftily avoided the barbed wire as well as several shots from the guards on duty, and took off toward the city. They had at least two miles before they hit the city limits, but as soon as they made it to a more populated area, they could blend in and get lost among the crowds.

Lovino breathed deeply, his chest and sides aching from the physical strain. But he refused to stop and rest, and he found himself feeling more adequate when he listened in on the mystery savior's condition. He was panting so loudly that Lovino was almost sure he would pass out any second. But somehow, both of them kept going until the city's lights grew brighter and brighter and the shapes of buildings that contrasted with the dark night sky came into view. Finally, they slowed to a quick walking pace.

Lovino took the opportunity to gaze up at the sky. It was clear and star-filled, and he let himself smile. He hadn't tasted such freedom in years, and though his body was aching and his lungs were burning, he couldn't help but savor the feeling of the crisp night air and the grassy ground under his feet. When that ground finally reverted to concrete and asphalt, he put himself back on alert. The mystery man held up his hand and motioned for Lovino to follow him. They weaved in and out of alleyways, the man obviously trying to throw any followers off their trail. It was a very novice attempt, he noticed, but he said nothing. This man had just saved his life after all.

It didn't take him long to comprehend what the man was getting at. He had obviously set up some kind of base of operations somewhere—rented out a room in some hotel perhaps? A few minutes later, his theory was validated. They arrived at a small hotel in a seedy part of the city, the man leading him quickly through the unmanned lobby and into a creaky elevator. They went up only two stories, but Lovino couldn't complain. He was breathing just as hard as the other man was. Once they'd exited the rickety machine, the man dug around in his pockets and pulled out a key before leading Lovino to the room at the end of the hall. Lovino followed him wordlessly, slightly apprehensive. One the one hand, the man had rescued him from certain death. On the other, he still had no clue who this man was, why he had helped him escape, or what else he had planned.

But the door swung open and revealed nothing but a standard hotel room. The man ushered him inside and quickly closed the door behind him, locked it, and slid the chain into place. Then he sank to the floor, his chest heaving for air. Lovino, mildly concerned, crouched next to him.

"Are you all right?"

The man looked at him.

Looked at him with eyes that he could never have forgotten.

The man, hands shaking from exhaustion, pulled down his face mask. "Fine, fratello. Just fine." He smiled brightly. "How about you?"

Feliciano.

Feliciano was sitting in front of him.

"You're…alive…"

The man nodded several times. "Yeah, about that. Well, let me explain first."

Lovino hugged him tightly, burying his face in his brother's shoulder. He didn't care if the other man hated him. He didn't care where he'd gone or why. He just cared that Feliciano was here, now. That was all that mattered. All those many days that had passed where he'd sat there and stared at the ceiling and wondered what had become of his fratello…This was what they had all been for.

"I am sorry. I am so, so sorry." He whispered. Over and over. "I know…I know that you refused to forgive me before, but I…I hope that…that somehow we can…"

Feliciano silenced him by pressing two fingers against his lips, a sheepish smile on his flushed cheeks. A smile that was completely unlike the brother he had come to know. Feliciano cleared his throat, his voice sounding oddly embarrassed. "Um, before you finish that, there's something you should know."

He stared, uncomprehending. "What?"

"I'm not your Feliciano."

He continued to stare. "What?"

"I'm the parallel one."

It still didn't click. "What?"

Feliciano sighed, exasperated. "From the parallel world! You know, the one where the other Germany and America came from? That one? Ring a bell?"

Oh.

Oh.

Oh…

Well, that changed…everything.

Dro: Good guessing, guys. It most certainly was Feli that I was originally referring to. And you'll find out how that came to be a little later.

Next Chapter: Prussia receives some startling news. Meanwhile, Artie ends up an awkward position after having a fight with Al.