2 years, 7 months, 5 days ago

He sat in complete darkness, head pounding, limbs aching, mind racing.

He was tied to a chair, he knew that.

He had a bag over his head, and the lights were off.

He felt like he'd been steamrolled with a truck.

And he did not have a clue who he was.

His mind was like a blank sheet; great gaping holes filled his brain, where something should have been. There was a word for what that was called, but he forgot that, too. Maybe it was just his personality to forget words. Maybe not. He didn't know.

Maybe he'd gotten a cun-cun-cunsussion—whatever…and that was why his head hurt so badly. And then…

The lights snapped on, and the bag was pulled off a second later. He hissed in pain, wishing for the sweet, enclosing darkness; light did not help his head.

"Welcome, Mr. Jones. You are a slippery man."

He didn't like that voice. Somewhere in his subconscious he knew that this was a bad man.

What to do? Pretend he remembered, or…

Mr. Jones—he assumed that was his last name—cracked a smile. "I try."

The bad man—for that shall be his label—smiled back, as though this was a game. "Oh, Alfred," Alfred grinned wider; there was his name! Alfred! "If you had just given up sooner we wouldn't have had to hit you with a car."

Alfred frowned, trying to piece together what was being said; extremely hard due to the fact he didn't remember anything. The bad man observed him for a second, eyes narrowed, before turning around. "I assume that you remember our agreement."

Crap. Remember—that was the last thing he was going to do. "Refresh my memory, won't you?" Play stupid, A little voice whispered. Play stupid!

"Oh, Al…that car must have scattered your brain quite a bit if you don't remember our agreement." The bad man turned around, smirking widely, and grabbed the arms of Alfred's chair, leaning in close. "You don't remember a single thing, do you? I'm offended you wouldn't trust me. Or is there still a small part of you who remembers…?"

Alfred stared at the man, eyes wide, before he said the first thing that came to mind. "Who are you?"

The bad man jerked back as though stung; saying was one thing, but when he actually heard it…the man smirked. "You may call me Arthur. I am your boss."

2 years, 3 months, 2 days ago

Alfred stepped off the plane and entered Russia.

For some reason, as he walked from the plane to the airport doors, he felt all his worries melting away. For some reason, he knew that he loved Russia. There was something about the cool air…but there was something else, too…

There was a sudden sense of foreboding as he stepped outside the doors.

And then he was tackled by a giant. Or, that was what it felt like.

Alfred landed on the floor, feeling the wind whoosh from him, and immediately panic began to well up in his chest. Someone has jumped on me! It could be an enemy!

He looked back…and for some reason, a grin split his face. A name burst from his lips, though Alfred didn't know who he was. "Ivan!"

"Privet! Al, I missed you! I thought you were still mad at me!" Ivan smiled widely, closing his big violet eyes.

Alfred was at a loss. For some reason this man made him feel irritated, happy, and warm all at once. Obviously he'd known this man very, very well; he felt he could trust him, unlike Arthur, his British boss. "Ivan, I have something to tell you…" Alfred's face twisted as Ivan's smile faded, and he nodded slowly. "I'm really, really sorry, but…I can't remember anything. You're…important to me, aren't you?" Alfred pressed a hand to his chest.

Ivan slid off Alfred, eyes wide and full of barely concealed pain. Alfred winced, and reached out a hand and pressed it against Ivan's shoulder. "Please, you have to help me. I can't trust anyone…especially not Arthur." Ivan's eyes narrowed slightly at the name. "You know him, right? Please, Ivan—something tells me I can't trust him! Please!"

There was a long pause, and for a second Alfred thought Ivan was going to leave him—his only connection to his past, besides Arthur. Finally, the bigger man said, "Come with me."

1 year, 8 months, 4 days

"IIIIIIIIIVAAAAAAAAN!" Alfred sang, and threw his arms around the taller Russian. "I missed you~!"

Ivan smiled back. "Al, I missed you too."

As the two began walking down the street, Alfred leaned in imperceptibly and whispered, "Arthur's getting suspicious. I think he's going to be sending guards or cameras after me."

Ivan leaned in too, keeping it casual. "What do you propose we do?"

Alfred shot him a grin. "Let's make it a game. I go to Russia and try and keep myself hidden, and you have to find me, and make it look like you're capturing me. Okay? How 'bout it?"

Ivan closed his eyes and grinned. "Sounds like fun."

That night, Alfred woke up in his hotel room, the name of someone important on his lips. "Mattie…" He whispered, before falling back asleep. He did not remember anything in the morning.

Present day

"Boss, we've spotted him."

Ivan was saved from answering Mattie's questions by the shaking voice of his underling. "Raivis…are you sure this time?" He growled. When the little Latvian nodded, Ivan turned to Mattie. "You're brother has amnesia. He came to me almost two years ago." He paused. "What do you know about…Arthur?"

Mattie paled.

Ivan pressed a soothing hand on Mattie's head. "We'll talk about it later. How would you like to see your brother?"

Okay, I lied. This is going to be a trilogy.

Ooo! Who is Arthur? What does he want with them? The mystery deepens!

And, one thing:

Chapter five: IceEckos12 is sitting in a chair. She looks at the reviews. "I really should respond to those reviews!" And promptly forgets about it.

Chapter 15: "I really, really should respond to those reviews!"

Chapter 25: "Why do I keep forgetting to do this?"

Now, I am going to start responding to reviews. I've been meaning to do it, but… *shrugs*

Chapter 20:

IMAxENIGMAx: Yeah…I don't speak German, so you're probably right ^^'. Thanks for telling me.

And again, in Chapter 25:

IMAxENIGMAx: I don't speak Spanish either, but my sister does, and she agreed with you. Thanks for pointing that out. I'm no good with foreign languages.

In Chapter 27:

Bleach-otaku: It was based off a Boy Called It, though at the time I'd written that chapter I hadn't read that book. Now I know that the little boy didn't die; he got rescued when he was 12. Still, it was a very, very sad book.

I can't seem to stay off angst, can I? Ah well. We all knew I was going to stick with the hard stuff. XD

And everyone else: OMG THANKS! YOU GUYS KEEP ME WRITING! I LOVE YOUALLLLLLLLL!

Okay…I'm done.

IceEckos12