Matthew cried out muffled screams and pleas though the man's hand blocked them out. He was wiggling, tossing back and forth as he was dragged towards the coast and his energy was slowly being worn out.

They moved across the warm sand, the moon lighting their way across the sparkling beach as they walked. Moving farther and farther away from the little town, soon the only thing Matthew's violet eyes could see when he looked left and right were the dark trees of the thick forest, the merciless waters of the sea and of course, more sand.

Gabriel smiled as a large ship came into view. It was pleasantly decorated, eagles carved neatly into the wood. The bow formed skillfully into an elegant angel, arms stretched out to hug the waters it crashed into.

But this wasn't Arthur's ship…

Still, the thing seemed so acquainted to Matthew though as he squinted, staring at it in awe, he couldn't put his finger on its familiarity.

"Fetch the Captain, I have something for him!" Gabriel ordered, only to get heads shaken at him.

"The Captain isn't here. He went to the city a few hours ago. He should be back by morning, just throw the kid in the dungeon."

The large man growled in annoyance, but pulled the dirty blonde up onto the ship. His bulky hand left the boy's mouth, and he took a deep inhale when he did.

"Where are we?" The teen gasped.

"We are aboard one of the most feared and powerful man's ship." Came the simple reply, darkness draping over the two as Matthew was pulled deeper under the ship's deck.

"W-Who? If this isn't Arthur or Antonio's ship? I thought you were taking me to Captain Kirkland?"

The man grinned. "Why this ship belong to none other than Captain Gilbert Beilschmidt." He explained, ignoring the boy's horrified face.

Captain Beilschmidt was known for being harsh and "frisky" in punishment. But Matthew had met Gilbert before with Francis. He had been so nice, so playful. Of course that was years ago and the three close friends, formerly known as The Bad Touch Trio, had grown apart when Gilbert decided to leave his friends behind.

"I am bringing you to him. But you see, Captain Kirkland made a deal with Beilschmidt. He helps bring the right prisoners to him, and Kirkland pays him in the finest of rewards. Now shut up and get in your cage." The man thrust his occupied arm, causing Matthew to fly into the damp confinement.

"He will be here for you at daybreak."

~~~~~ In Greece ~~~~~

"Alright. Knowing Arthur, he will not turn around and try to find you rowing in the ocean. Still, he'll send out others to instead, so keep a low profile." The Greek told them, a spotted cat slinking quietly up onto his lap.

"Also, something tells me he wasn't really planning on giving up North Italy if you lost against the Turkmen." He noted, his tan fingers gliding across the silky fur of the creature. "But what his true ambitions with this is still unclear."

"We have to figure it out though!" Alfred urged quickly. "Whatever it is, it can't be good if it's like what he's been doing!"

"I know. Calm down, Alfred. We can't rush into this, he'll find us out."

The America huffed and fell back into his seat, slumping clumsily.

"Alright then, you two go get dressed and get cleaned up. When you come back you will eat. You have to get ready for this if we're going to do this right and we have to start immediately." The Greek shooed them off, staying where he was on his chair.

When the two came back, they were clean and better dressed from their torn, worn garments.

Alfred was in light tan, wool stockings tight against his legs and dark brown knee breeches. A coffee colored shirt with long, cuffed sleeves covered his torso. Black suspenders pressed easily into the brown, wool fabric and around his shoulders, matching the black shoes that covered his feet. On his dirty blonde hair hat a tilted, brown messenger boy styled hat, shadowing his face when he looked down.

Feliciano's new outfit was similar, though his cream colored breeches didn't poof out the way Alfred's somewhat did and were pressed closer against his skin. His stockings were white and shirt and shoes were both the same light tan color with no suspenders. Feliciano's hat was just the same though a litter brown and his auburn hair flared out the sides of it more.

The two found their new leader dozing off in his chair, cats surrounding him without fear.

"U-Um? Mr. Greece?" Alfred shook the man curiously. "Mr. Greece!"

The teen turned towards his Italian companion and shook his head side to side.

Feliciano snapped his fingers, a smile spreading across his childish face. "Here! I've got it!" He bounded off, only to come back with a wooden pail. Water slushed from the sides of it as he used both of his arms to heave it towards the Greek.

This earned a yell of surprise and many high pitched cries of the irritated felines.

"Mr. Greece! You're up! You said we had to start immediately!" Alfred wailed at the surprised man.

"Ah…I did…" He muttered, watching his small, furry friends scurry off in anger. "Alright, follow me." He stood up, soaked, but still trudged mushy through the building.

"Here we are. The kitchen. Help yourselves, and eat as much as you can so you're full. Make sure to relax and go slow though." And the slightly annoyed man walked off again, leaving the teens to find food throughout the large room.

It wasn't long before the Greek returned, dry and looking well rested. He found his own meal, munching slowly, green eyes gazing over the two in front of him.

"I can't take it!" Alfred cried suddenly. "What's the plan? Why are we just sitting here eating?"

"To build up energy. I said just relax and fill up, I'm not sure how easy it will be for us to eat once we leave. And I'm more than sure we won't be able to lounge about either s we should rest now."

"Why? Where are we going?"

"Once we leave, we are headed for Turkey."

Greece left again, leaving the two friends in the kitchen once more. This time though, he didn't come back for almost two hours.

"Where have you been?" Alfred and Feli asked simultaneously.

Greece smiled warmly at them, his eyes shining with reassurance. "Just getting us ready. Come on, we should get going so we can travel out of Greece by day and into Turkey by night. We don't want to be seen by them."

Quietly he led them out and the trio was greeted by a brown horse strapped to a filled wagon.

"A horse!" Alfred exclaimed happily. He had always loved the creature.

"Yes. A very smart one at that." Heracles noted, climbing to the edge of the wagon closest to the creature, taking a hold of the ropes he used to bind the animal.

"Quickly, get into the wagon." He told them, not bothering to watch them obey. He could hear their hard shoes clack on the wood and them shifting against the items he'd stacked in with them.

"Let's go!" He thrust the ropes with a snap and the horse took off, jerking the boys in the wagon with a cry.

They raced through the streets, of town down across the sands of the Greek beaches the boys had washed up on.

"Why are we going back here?" Alfred asked loud enough for the horses heavy steps to be muted. "Isn't this the wrong way?"

"It is. But we must to be close to the shore line anyway. Besides, we need that little boat you came in. Where'd you hide it exactly?"

"Oh! Um…there! Behind those bushes!" Alfred pointed forward, leaning over the side of the wagon carelessly.

"Wait! No!" The American gasped, falling forward onto the warm sand as the thing came to a quick stop.

The Greek stood, jumping off beside him once the horse was settled. "You alright, Alfred?" He asked, watching the tall boy nod.

"Yeah. Let's get the boat!" He skipped off, swiping at the bushes in his way. "Now! See, told you it was here!"

The two heaved it onto the wagon, Feliciano pulling it from the other end. Once it was settled, they climbed back on and their adventure began.

I won't let you be the villain, Artie. I promise I'll save you from this!