A snarl made its way across my face as I stared towards the hulking shape in the doorway. My eyes squinted as I tried to see him and any sign of Alfred in the doorway, but when the hulking shape moved forward I shrank back in surprise. There was not one, but two bodies standing there in the cell, Alfred wearing a new coat matching Ivan's. Wordlessly, the taller of the two gave a cock of his head. He would not be disobeyed, it seemed.

A calm washed over me, a feeling that spoke distinctly of the end. I don't know what caused it or why—but I suppose it was my last stand against the Russian. After today, I would have no fight left to disobey him. When I did not stand, the Russian smiled childishly, seeming pleased rather than upset or angered. With a small prod to Alfred's shoulder with his pipe, Ivan's eyes focused on me; his sadistic promises of pain shown like diamonds through the purple spheres.

Alfred, on the other hand, stared straight ahead with vacant, listless eyes. His face was expressionless, and it seemed as if the American didn't even recognize me as he kneeled before me, pulling me off of the floor and dropping me onto his shoulder. "A-Alfred," I murmured before I could stop myself. I gathered up the most heated glare I could muster in my weakened state and demanded hoarsely, "Dammit, what the bloody hell did you do…?"

Alfred and Ivan both said nothing, the former standing and eying the Russian with the smallest of glimmers in his eyes as he apparently waited for an order. A feeling of absolute dread and terror filled me, and I shifted weakly as Alfred began to walk. "Nuh… No…. No, no, no Alfred… Alfred wh-what are you doing…?"

I could barely form the sentences in my mind, feeling my eyes widen as I realized my fate. This could not be happening… "Alfred," I cried desperately, beating my fists on his back. "Alfred, wake up! God dammit! Alfred!"

My voice echoed back to me as the taller blonde stared at his comrade-- for indeed, my Alfred had left me, and I was alone with strangers and enemies in this godforsaken cell. My hands continued to beat at his back, trying desperately to get him to release me. I didn't want to find out what would happen to me if Alfred and Ivan brought me back to the mirrors. The laugh that fell from Ivan's lips was light and bubbly, with a sinister undertone. It was clear that the Russian was absolutely delighted that he finally had his comrade under his thumb. Using the pipe, he pushed the door and held it open for Alfred. I beat harder, squirming to get away even as I knew I couldn't run away this time. A small-pleased sound came from Alfred as he walked out of the door; uttering the first words I had heard him utter in days. And yet, they brought no comfort. "Soon… Comrade Arthur… Will not be alone…"

The words froze me, knowing I was far too weak to wiggle from his tight hold. Looking around for an escape, my eyes focused on Ivan's face. With a raw hostility that shocked even me, I snarled and scowled towards the Russian. "I'm going to bloody kill you, you fucking bastard. Mark my words, this isn't over yet."

With renewed vigour I began to kick and flail at the body holding me. In my desperation I had barely noticed the lidding of violet eyes and the malicious smile sent my way, promising me a world of horror. Slow, off-kilter notes began to fill the air, and I recognized it as Alfred's national anthem. The normal patriotism was gone, and the notes sounded rather eerie and hollow. If possible, the sound of his humming set me into an even more terrified state, but I forced the fear down, settling for a comfortably numb haze. All I could was sit there, blood rushing to my head and face throbbing weakly, to see what the show bring. In a last ditch effort to rebel against Ivan, I swallowed a few times, generating a little bit of spit from my parched mouth and hocking it Ivan's way.

A dark and poisonous glare pierced me as the gob of spit landed on his scarf, the end of his faucet pipe pressing into the underside of my chin and forcing eye contact. I glared back defiantly, though the glare I received faded and was replaced with the former all-too-knowing look that chilled me to the core. The humming that had been echoing through the corridor stopped abruptly as Alfred let out a hollow laugh, followed by a pleased sigh as he soaked in the warmth of the mirrored room. I can't help the sigh of relief that escapes me as well, a cold I didn't know they held seeping from my frozen bones. I hated myself for the sound. My chin ached from the cold of the faucet pipe, only strengthening the deeply set throbbing of my face. Some small part of me was still struggling to surface, refusing to give up and die.

Why is Alfred here? The thought echoes through my mind as I am thrown unceremoniously to the floor. I can't help the wince. Why is it him that is doing these things? Is this a test? I propped myself up, glaring at the two defiantly. There was no hope left in my mind, nothing that could keep me pushing forward other than the grim determination to get Alfred out of here. If.... When..... He wakes up, he'll hold such regret. A small, bark-like sound of a scoff escapes my throat and, as always, I fake the confidence that I've become so good at exuding; arms crossing against my chest. The bloody bastard may have broken me in body plenty of times over, but he'll never do it in mind- at least, not without extreme situations. ...Which, I thought as my heart sank (though my glare never wavered), This is fast turning into...

A small hum of approval left the Russian, low and pleased as he stepped forward to stand beside the American. He sent that same disconcerting smile my way and I suppressed a shudder at his words. "Soon, Comrade Arthur, everything will be good again, da?"

With that, the Russian held the pipe over to the American. With barely a moment's hesitation, Alfred accepted the pipe into his hands. I watched, horror firing down my nerves in cloying little bursts of sparks. Somehow I managed not to shake or shy away, eying Alfred guardedly as he took the pipe. It wasn't until Ivan backed into a corner that I realized what the pipe passing truly meant.

I crawled away slowly, my back hitting the mirrors (The glass oh god the glass is broken) as I glared up defiantly at my former colony and spoke with a level voice. "Alfred."

My voice caught in my throat, but I swallowed past the knot, glaring up at Alfred with all the hatred, betrayal, and fear that I felt. "Don't do this."

I received nothing in return; save for a small smile that stretched into a manic, desperately happy grin. His pearly whites taunted me as he ever so slowly dragged a digit down the length of the pipe, caressing it like one would a lover. I felt my throat constrict as I strengthened my glare, pressing further against the mirrors and almost finding comfort in the feel of the mini shards cutting into my back as he slowly advanced.

The only thing I knew is that this was going to hurt.

"Alfred... Open your fucking eyes. Look at whom you're bloody threatening with that pipe. It's not.... It's not too late."

I don't think in all my years past these events will the smile stretched over that beautiful, bruised face ever fade… It still haunts my dreams, even as I wake up, screaming and panting as I remember the events to come.