Hi Friends!

Thanks for sticking with me all this time. I really thought this would be the final chapter but it didn't work out the way I wanted it to. So, needless to say I need just one more to resolve Spencer and Derek's relationship after all the hardship they've gone through. I will do my best to get it out sooner, especially since the school year is winding down to a close.

Thanks for all your reviews, follows, favs, and encouragement. I really appreciate you guys!

Please forgive any mistakes.

Enjoy!

Alas, taking Spencer home wasn't as easy as it sounded.

The first order of business after the two emerged from the prince's bedchambers was to ensure that no harm would come them. In order to do that Derek had to make sure that Charles's troops were aware of his death and the fact that there were no successors left alive.

Coincidentally, the first group of soldiers that appeared in front of them happened to contain Raphael's second in command. Derek knew upon seeing the high-ranking knight that he would have to do speak quickly in order to get the man to listen to him. Thankfully, he somehow managed to weave the right words together and convinced the knight to go back to Tobias's chambers to see the carnage.

Unfortunately, while the commander had agreed to go back to the prince's rooms, he wasn't foolish enough to allow the kings to remain free. He commanded that the two king's surrender themselves to him and that they permit his knights to secure their hands behind their backs. Derek paled at the ultimatum, knowing full well that his husband was not in any shape to be restrained once again.

Spencer, though, made his partner proud by hardening his eyes and thrusting his hands behind his back. The only outward sign that the young king showed at the forceful restraint was a small wince when the coarse rope was wrapped around his wrists. Derek quickly followed his husband's lead and stood still as his own arms were bound.

With their prisoners secured, the party of knights confidently marched them back down the corridor to the blood-soaked room from whence they came.

The group slowly entered the receiving chambers and looked around at the immaculate room. The commander's eyes narrowed at the lack of butchery that he had been promised. "What sort of game are you playing? I thought you said they were in here. Dead."

"Not in here," Derek corrected. "In the prince's bedroom."

The lead knight stepped up to his prisoner and leaned in close to his face, "You better not be lying to me, boy."

"Open the door and see for yourself," Derek challenged him confidently.

The formidable man fixed him with a stern glare before he strode away, gesturing for his men to bring up the rear.

Derek followed along behind the commander and watched as he pushed open the door. He saw the man step into the tainted room and held his breath in anticipation of the leader's reaction.

"All of you," he called, "get in here."

"Do you want one of us to stay –," one of the soldiers started to ask.

"No."

The lower ranking knights were quick to circumvent the two kings and rush into the room.

Once they were alone, Derek gently nudged his world-weary husband. "Are you alright?" he asked softly, his eyes noticing how exhausted his beloved was looking.

"I should be asking you that," Spencer responded, purposefully glancing at Derek's oozing wound.

"It's alright for now," he acknowledged. The injured youth looked at the doorway and back at his lover. "I-uh…I'm going to head on in there. You don't have to though. You can stay out here. There's no need for you to see uh…to see it all again."

Spencer jerked his chin as if he was outraged at the suggestion. "You're not leaving my sight."

Understanding his husband's insistence on keeping him close, the king said, "Then let's make this quick."

The emotionally fragile young man nodded in agreement and shadowed his husband as he walked back into the blood-spattered room.

As the two of them entered they heard the commander confirming what they already knew. "King Charles is dead."

"So is the prince," said one of his fellow soldiers.

"And Sir Raphael."

The room was totally silent for a minute before the soldier in charge looked at his fellow compatriots and let out a huge breath of air, "Thank God."

Utter shock sizzled through Derek. He shook his head, "What?"

"Thank God. That man was a tyrant and his brother wasn't any better. The only one that I'm sad about losing is the kid. He wasn't all that bad…he just wouldn't have been any good at running a kingdom," the knight said simply.

"I never thought this day would come," chimed in Derek's guard, sheathing his sword.

"So what now?" Spencer's guard asked.

The lead knight shrugged his shoulders, "We tell the others. Sir Richard, run and tell the field commander the news. Have him order the men to stand down and officially free King Derek's imprisoned men."

"At once, sir," Sir Richard stated before turning around and leaving.

Derek, surprised yet satisfied with the turn of events, raised his eyebrows and cocked his head to the side, "You're just letting my men go free?"

The older man looked over a Derek and nodded, "Yes. As of right now I'm the highest ranking official and those are my orders. I'm sure some of the other men might not totally agree with me but I really don't care. Too many of us have been suffering for too long under Charles's tyrannical rule. Very few have benefited from his ways and I'm sure when we all get together and talk more men will come over to my way of thinking."

Derek gave a half-smile before turning his back to the man and wiggling his fingers, "Could you undo these ropes now?"

The knight was quick to respond, "Oh! At once, Sire!"

"Sire?" Derek queried as the ropes fell away from his wrists.

The knight's stoic expression relayed to the young king how serious he was about his next words. "Naturally. There isn't anyone else that is even remotely qualified to run this country now that Charles is dead. And I, for one, do not want to leave the throne empty for too long."

"And why is that?" Derek asked as he walked over to Spencer and freed his hands.

"Because I wouldn't put it past some of the more sanctimonious families of this realm to fight over who deserves to rule next. I'd rather you just claim this whole country as your own and stop the impending civil war before it starts. Besides, you defeated Charles fair and square. What was once his should now be yours."

"He's right, Derek," Spencer said softly. "You've earned it."

"Don't you think we've earned it?"

The young man didn't answer the question but winced instead. "I-I need to sit down."

Seeing Spencer in pain suddenly reminded Derek that he too wasn't in that great of shape. There were still slow rivers of red oozing from his left hip while the wound on his arm seemed to throb in time with his heartbeat.

The knight, seemingly noticing for the first time that both men were injured, ordered the other soldier in the room to run and get some help. "Here, let me help you to a seat," he offered Spencer, stepping forward and ducking his head under the boy's right arm. He led the two kings back out into Tobias's receiving room and settled his load onto one of the divans.

Derek plopped his battered body down next to his husband and said a grateful, "Thank you."

The man nodded, "Just doing my duty, Your Grace. You two just sit tight here while my man fetches the court physician. I'm going to go down to the yard to make sure my orders are being followed. I'll also check on your friends, the..uh…the ones that Charles had ordered be taken prisoner, and I'll make sure they are freed and sent up here to be with you. When that's all done, I'll summon all of my men to the barracks and inform them of the change in leadership."

"Again," Derek said, "thank you."

The knight bowed low and then stood up with his right fist clenched over his heart. "It's my pleasure to help you, Your Majesty."

Derek nodded silently then turned his attention to his pale trembling lover. "Spencer, my love, talk to me. Is it just your leg?"

The other king grimaced and bit his lip. "You shouldn't be so worried about me. You're hurt too."

"True, but I'm not the one that looks like he's about to pass out," Derek stated, scooting over and wrapping his left arm around Spencer's waist.

"I-I'm not about to pass out. I-I think it's just the events of the day finally catching up with me. I can't help thinking that this is all a dream that I'm about to wake up from. A-and when I do…it will be his arm trapping me against his body and not yours."

The muscular king sighed forlornly and squeezed his beloved. "Do you feel this? Can you feel my embrace?"

Spencer closed his eyes, relishing in the sensation stemming from his partner's fingertips. "Yeah."

Derek nuzzled his face into the crook of the boy's neck and breathed in his lover's heady scent. "That's my breath dancing across your skin. Those are my fingers splayed across your hip. And these are my lips kissing yours," he assured his best friend before he pecked Spencer's swollen mouth. "This – this is real. I'm here. We're finally together. And nothing, from this point forward and for the rest of our lives, will pull us asunder. I promise."

The boy's maple brown eyes opened wide, spilling the tears he was trying to hide. "You can't promise that."

With a growl, Derek pulled his lover's lithe body closer to him, heedless of his injury. "Oh but I can. Because I'm never letting you out of my sight ever again. Where you go, I go."

Spencer gave his husband a shaky smile. He then reached his hand up and traced his fingers over Derek's chiseled jawbone. "I-I'd like to believe you…," he trailed off, pulling his hand back and wiggling his body out of the warm comfort of Derek's arms.

"Then believe me!" the king bellowed, trying to pull his mate back toward him.

"But…"

"But, what?"

"But what happens when you finally realize that I'm not worth it?" he said meekly, looking down at his black and blue body. He started to fiddle with the golden belt that wrapped around his waist, causing the small golden coins to jingle as they hit one another.

Derek's brow furrowed faster than lightening. "How could you even think that you're –"

"Uh – excuse me," a timid voice chimed throughout the chamber.

The king gnashed his teeth together and turned in his seat. Standing nervously in the doorway to the room was a peculiar old man with a large leather bag grasped in his hands. "Who are you?" Derek demanded to know in a stern voice.

"I-I was told to come up here to tend to the-the new kings," the physician responded, clearly put off by Derek's scrutinizing gaze.

"Well then don't just stand there. My husband's been injured. Come and help him," he said gruffly, frustrated that his conversation with Spencer had been cut off at its most important part.

"Of course, Your Grace," the doctor said, startled at the man's hostile tone. He scuttled over to the divan and immediately crouched down in front of the two young men. His eyes roved over both their injuries but settled on Spencer's thigh. He pushed away the torn fabric of the red harem pants and inspected the wound. "It looks a little deep, which accounts for why it hasn't stopped bleeding yet. I'm going to clean it out and then, if you'll allow me, I'll try to sew it shut." He paused and looked up at his patient for confirmation that it was okay to continue. The young man silently nodded his head.

Upon receiving the go ahead, the physician stood up and looked around the room. "Alright. I'm going to go fetch some water to help cleanse your wound. I'll be right back." The old man scurried off through a set of doors on his mission, leaving the two lovers alone again.

"Spencer…," Derek started, intent upon continuing their conversation.

The leaner king kept his gaze focused on his lap, refusing to meet his husband's troubled eyes. "Not now. Not while we have an audience," the youth pleaded.

Sighing, Derek acquiesced, "Alright. But we will finish this later." He then reached out and snatched Spencer's right hand. He lifted the shaking limb up to his lips and placed a gentle kiss on back of it. "I love you. I'll always love you," he murmured tenderly.

Still unable to meet his lover's eyes, Spencer clenched his other hand into a fist and whispered, "We'll see."

They never did finished their conversation.

Before the physician could even finish winding the last few inches of his white bandage around Derek's elbow wound the room was infiltrated by the kings' friends and new allies.

After that the two kings were swept up in a whirlwind of reunions, explanations and plans.

Together, the friends from Quantico worked with the surprisingly cooperative soldiers from Georgia on how to announce to the realm that the country as they knew it was now dissolved and taken over by their neighboring kingdom.

In the end, Derek put his newest ally, Sir Christian Reeves, in charge of spreading the news of the change in monarchy throughout the land. King Charles's former knight was more than happy to head-up the job.

It was also decided that Sir Kassmeyer would remain in the former Kingdom of Georgia along with fifty of Quantico's soldiers. They're job was to help Sir Reeves fully implement Derek's changes to the realm and ensure a smooth transition for the people.

Of course, the plan they laid out in the middle of Charles's former meeting chambers sounded good on paper but the team of allies knew that there would be some resistance to the change. Hence, a decree would be issued stating that anyone who was opposed to the change in authority had two choices – they could both pack up their possessions and move out of the Kingdom of Quantico, or they would be imprisoned.

While this seemed like a harsh ultimatum, the two kings knew it was necessary. No one had the time or energy to fight a civil war with any citizens that were intent on challenging the occupation of Georgia. And quite frankly, they all knew that the only people that would be opposed to the change in rulers were Charles's steadfast friends and they needed to be neutralized as soon as possible anyways.

Amazingly, the group had worked so diligently that Sir Reeves was able to being executing the first part of their plan. For before the sun had even begun to set, the knight was mounted on his horse and had a slew of men spreading out throughout the city and into the neighboring villages announcing to the people the news of Charles's death and the annexation of Georgia by the forces of Quantico.

After Quantico's newest knight had left the chambers the group of world-weary friends took a moment to savor the fact that they were finally all together and out of danger.

"I-I seriously can't believe that it's finally over and that we're all sitting here safe and sound," Penelope said in wonderment. She allowed her eyes to rove over all of her friends, drinking in their appearance and savoring the details.

Sadly, the small smile that had tugged at her lips disappeared when her gaze fell on Spencer.

She had known earlier that he had not been treated very well throughout his time here under the iron fist of Charles, but now seeing him, shrinking as deep into the chair he occupied as the cushions would allow, he looked like an entirely different man.

He was still scantily clad in the outfit that he had been forced to don earlier this morning. His mottled skin was on display for all to see, along with the stark white bandage that was wrapped around his right thigh.

But it wasn't the garish outfit that caused a stab of sorrow to jab Penelope in the gut. Rather it was the hollow look in her friend's eyes. The spark of life and curiosity that once danced throughout his amber orbs had been extinguished.

"Sweetie," she said, not bothering with formalities since the group was all alone. "Are you feeling okay?"

Spencer started at her question. He drew himself up a little in the chair but kept his eyes focused on his lap. "I-I'm fine."

She went to respond to his blatant lie but was cut off by Sir Hotcher. "No one expects you to be alright, Your Grace. You've been through more than I can imagine in the past year and it all came to a head today. Honestly, I would be shocked if you were actually acting fine…it would mean that you're not allowing yourself some leeway to deal with everything that has occurred."

"But I am. I'm fine. I'm just processing is all," Spencer protested weakly, curling his good leg up onto the chair in front of him – almost as if it were a shield that could protect him against any more of their prying questions.

Derek, recognizing that the attentions of their friends was causing Spencer to pull back deeper into himself, decided to change the subject. "What do you all say that we get out of here? Let's leave this godforsaken place and go back to our camp with our troops?"

Catching on that the subject of Spencer's emotional wellbeing was taboo, the rest of the group hurried to agree.

"That sounds like an excellent idea, Your Majesty," Hotch said, standing up and adjusting the sword at his side.

"Ohhh…I can't wait to get back to our camp! Just the thought of being surrounded by people we trust has me ready to run," Penelope added enthusiastically.

"Spencer?" Derek ventured.

"Hmm?"

"Are you ready to get out of here?" he asked, assuming it was a rhetorical question.

The youth lowered his leg back down to the ground and pushed himself up straight in the chair. He then bit his bottom lip and fingered the elaborate collar that was still strewn across his shoulders. "Actually, no. I need to go back to Charles's chambers."

Surprised, Derek was quick to ask, "What? Why? What could you possibly want in there?"

"Uh…a decent set of clothes for one," Spencer said sheepishly, his ears tinting red in embarrassment as he gestured to his exposed chest.

"Oh!" Derek exclaimed. "I'm so sorry. I can't believe I didn't think of that sooner. Here, we'll just have one of the guards bring you something comfortable to wear for our ride back to camp. Besides, neither one of us should be walking more than we have to; it'll just upset our wounds more."

Spencer's face pinched at his husband's suggestion. "No…really, no…I…uh…I need to get…"

"What? You need to get what?"

"I need to get something personal that Charles took away from me a few days ago. He-uh-he locked it up in one of his chests and I want to get it back before we leave," Spencer answered evasively. "Please?"

Derek could see the desperation in Spencer's eyes and conceded with a simple ultimatum, "Alright, but we're coming with you."

Spencer slowly pushed up out of his seat. "Y-you really don't have to. I-I'll be alright on my own." He stood up stiffly and couldn't hide the grimace the new pressure on his leg elicited.

"Nonsense," Derek admonished, getting up from his seat and hobbling over to his husband. "We'll do it together."

The way the young man sucked his lips into his mouth and averted his gaze made his lover think he was going to argue but Spencer nodded his consent instead.

"Aaron, Sam, would you two mind lending us a hand…or rather your shoulders?" Derek asked the two knights casually.

Both men stepped forth immediately. "Of course, Sire," Aaron said formally, unable to address his king informally, regardless of their friendship.

Derek chuckled as he wrapped his arm around Sir Kassmeyer's shoulders and started shuffling out of the room. "Penelope, why don't you meet us down in the courtyard? Have the men bring around the horses and a carriage. We'll be leaving within the hour."

The lady smiled mischievously, "You mean I don't get to come and watch you delicious men play dress-up in with Charles's wardrobe?"

"Ha! Behave, my lady. You have a nice young man back at home waiting to satisfy your hungry eyes," Derek bantered. "Now off with you."

"Right away, my handsome king," she trilled, maneuvering around the four men and out the door.

Sir Kassmeyer laughed at her cheerful exit, "She sure does brighten any room she's in."

"Lady Penelope has always had that ability," Sir Hotchner commented as he helped King Spencer limp down the passageway.

"She is one in a million," Derek complimented. "Everyone needs a Penelope in their life."

The other two men murmured their agreement before the conversation drifted to a close; no one commenting on the fact that Spencer was staying solemnly silent.

The group drew to a halt outside of the ominous doors. Derek looked over at his beloved and saw how his face was screwed up with emotion at the sight.

Deciding that it was best to get this over with as quickly as possible, Derek reached out and grabbed the handled to the door. He pushed it open and revealed the deceased king's receiving room. They all shuffled inside and looked around.

Suddenly, Spencer extracted himself from Sir Hotchner's grip and limped over to the bedchamber's door. The group went to follow but his soft voice stopped them. "I'd…ah…I'd like to do this alone."

Derek's eyes narrowed with concern. "Do you know exactly where it is?" he asked.

"Yes."

"Perfect. Since it's in there I'll go in with you and rummage through his wardrobe while you get…whatever it is we came here for," Derek declared lightly but the look in his eyes clearly said he wasn't going to compromise on this.

Spencer sighed and pushed the door open. He shuffled inside and made his way over to Charles's vanity table. Derek followed slowly behind him and gently closed the door. "Which door leads to his closet?"

"Second one on the right," Spencer answered automatically. Standing still in front of the large mirror, watching as Derek's reflection found the correct door. He didn't start moving until he saw his husband's form disappear into the dressing room.

As soon as he was alone, Spencer shucked the collar that was strewn across his shoulders. He then pulled out the cushioned stool and sat his exhausted body down upon it. He turned his body to the side and pulled open the bottom right drawer and pulled out a heavy metal lockbox.

Spencer set his burden down on the top of the vanity and stared at it. He traced his hand over the cool steel and pressed his finger against the keyhole.

"So what's in there?" Derek's voice queried, shattering the silence.

The younger man jumped at the question, snatching his hand away from the box. He twisted his body around toward his husband, his hand over his heart as if to help settle it back down after the sudden scare. "I see you found some clothes," he commented as his eyes roved over the bundle draped over Derek's arm.

His husband shrugged, "He has more clothes than Lady Penelope and Lady Jennifer put together, but most of them wouldn't fit you. I was able to find some riding breeches that lace up front, which I think we can adjust to your size. And then I just grabbed a tunic that we can belt at your waist."

"Good," Spencer stated, "I'm glad you didn't grab anything too showy."

"I know you too well," the muscular king commented with a wry smile. "So, are you going to tell me what's in the box?"

"It's…um…you know what it is," Spencer implied as his hand wandered across his chest and rested in the center of his bare breastbone.

Derek's russet eyes followed his beloved's limber fingers as watched as they clutched around an invisible object. "Ahh…he didn't throw it away?"

"No, actually he let me wear it pretty much my whole time here."

"Seriously?" Derek asked incredulously.

"Yeah, I-uh told him that it was the key to my collar and that it was meant to taunt me because I would never be able to unlock it," he explained. "It wasn't until last night that he took it away. He never said why I couldn't have it any more. I just figured that it didn't go with the outfit he wanted me to wear today."

"Wow, smart thinking…you know, telling him it was a psychological torture devise. That man thrived on other people's suffering," Derek said.

Spencer shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Tell me about it," he whispered, dropping his eyes down to his bruised body.

"Oh, sweetheart," Derek sighed, dropping the clothes onto the former king's bed before moving to sit with his husband. He then gingerly wrapped his arms around his best friend and pulled him close. "I'm so sorry I didn't get here sooner. I tried – I swear, I tried; but I had to make sure the plan was sound and everything back home was protected before I came."

A new onslaught of tears slipped down Spencer's battered cheeks. "I know…I know that you got here as soon as you could….it's just…it's just that…"

"It's just, what?"

The timid king just shook his head. "Nothing," he said with defeat thick in his voice.

Derek released his grip on Spencer's waist and gently nudged his lover to turn toward him. He then cupped the boy's black and blue cheeks gently in his hands and used the pads of this thumbs to wipe away his tears. "Tell me."

The youth opened his mouth as if he was about to pour out his heart and soul, but then his eyes seemed to cool – shuttering away his thoughts deep in their hazel depths. He broke out of his husband's embrace, stood up and started rifling through the vanity's other drawers. "I need to find something that I can use to pick the lock" he said devoid of all emotion.

Derek shook his head at his husband's deeply rooted obstinacy. "You're going to have to talk to me about this sometime."

Spencer ignored his lover and continued his search.

"Honey, we are not going to pretend like nothing happened. I'm not going to let you bury this deep inside your vast mind. I mean, I can already see that you're hurting. If we don't start talking about it, it's going to fester."

"Ah-ha!" Spencer cried out, pulling his hand out of a drawer with a straight pin grasped between his thumb and index finger.

"Are you even listening to me?" Derek asked fervently as Spencer set to work on the lockbox.

"Hmm?"

"Spencer."

Nothing.

"Spencer!"

Still nothing.

"SPENCER!"

The boy's nimble fingers dropped the pick before he turned to face his husband. "What?" he asked innocently.

Derek rolled his eyes. "When are we going to talk about this?"

The brunette sucked in his lower lip and tucked his gangly arms into his chest. "I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"No…," he said, his frustration clear in his tone. "Don't you get it? It's just too soon."

"I know – "

"No, Derek. You don't know." Spencer dropped his arms down to his side and turned his back on his husband. "You don't know what I've been through. I just…I can't talk about this…at least, not yet."

"Not yet?"

"Yeah, not yet."

The room was silent for a moment and then behind him Spencer could hear the sound of Derek shaking the metal box. The other king had decided to stop pushing his husband for the time being. "Alright then. Let's get this open, so we can go home."

Spencer turned back around and gave his beloved a small smile. "Thanks."

They will be back home in the next chapter and I promise that I will wrap it up then!

Take care!