Start: Chapter Five

I.

After returning to my room, Arthur informed me that supper had already passed. Apparently it had been right after they had tested me and I shouldn't have stayed in the stadium for so long. My stomach growled in complaint, but I shrugged and laid down on my bed. Hunger wasn't something I was unused to.

Arthur glanced at me, biting his lip and momentarily ignoring the winged green creature that he had been playing with. "That boy…" he said. "That's your brother, isn't he?"

I nodded and closed my eyes, exhaling slowly. I had been shocked to see Gilbert here, but for some reason, not very surprised. A part of me had just expected him to show up.

The sound of someone appearing in the doorway startled me, my eyes opening to blink at the security guard standing there. A gruff voice gave a command of, "Sleep now," before he shut off the lights. The room was plunged into darkness, except for the glow of Arthur's little green animal.

After a moment, I allowed my eyes to shut again. My exhaustion had me drift off surprisingly quickly, sending me off to dreams.

My side ached as I ran, tripping over the loose floorboards in my haste. The shoes I wore – hardly could be called shoes anymore, but they were all I had – seemed to shred just with this bit of extra exertion on them.

"Bastard child!" screamed a voice behind me, angry stomps chasing relentlessly through the basement. Fear pumped adrenaline through my veins, my hands out in front of me, feeling my way blindly through the large room.

My foot caught on a table leg poking out haphazardly in the empty space. I sprawled forward, landing awkwardly and feeling my ankle twist. I cursed all the junk that my parents kept down here with every bit of my eight-year-old vocabulary, tears blurring my vision.

"There you are," he growled, holding up a flashlight. My eyes flew up, wide in terror, and I scrambled backwards desperately. Those ice-blue eyes narrowed and he followed with deliberate slowness. "Nasty little bastard."

The flashlight struck across my face and I cried out in pain, flailing towards him with my hands. I heard a faint, percussive boom, but it didn't seem to do much more than enrage my "father" more. This time a hand connected with my stomach, causing the wind to be knocked out of me. Tears spilled from my eyes.

Now the table was taken and raised above his head. I squeezed my eyes shut, curling up, shaky hands wrapping around my head. The air whistled as he heaved the small piece of furniture downwards…

I woke up, shaking and gasping, almost feeling my twisted ankle and bruised skin once again. The sheets were tangled around my legs, and I sat up to undo them. Arthur was now asleep, his flying creature hovering around his head protectively.

Standing, I stumbled out of the room and towards the bathroom, by the cafeteria. I knew there were cameras watching me – they weren't trying to hide the things – and I only hoped that there wouldn't be any in the more private areas.

Pushing open the door, I managed to get a look at myself in the mirror and see that no, my face was not bleeding, before collapsing by the sink and resting my head against the wall. I could still feel myself trembling, no matter my brain trying to convince my limbs to stay still. It had been years since I had last thought about the man who had hated me so much, even more than he had hated the other boys in the house. It wasn't as if I had chosen the circumstances of my birth.

I froze when I heard the door open, shrinking into the corner. It was probably someone needing to use the toilet; they didn't need to know I was there. But the quiet footsteps went past the stalls and stopped in front of me.

"Roddy," came a quiet voice. My head jerked upwards, relief washing over me when I saw Gilbert. He offered a hand and I took it, using it to pull myself onto my feet.

For a moment, his eyes wandered over my face, looking as worried as he ever seemed able to get. Then he pulled me into a hug, which I reciprocated, hiding my face in his chest. A familiar feeling.

He was so much warmer than other people were. Fire burned inside his soul, I supposed, warming up every bit of skin that surrounded him.

"Nightmare?" he questioned, pulling back a little and tilting my face up. He gauged my nod and the look on my face before narrowing his eyes and saying, "Dad."

I nodded again, holding onto Gilbert tighter. He rubbed my back and pressed his lips to my forehead, effectively warming that one spot. Before he had a chance to pull back more, I leaned forward and kissed him.

There was no hint of surprise, no pause, just lips instantly moving against my own and a few steps pressing me backwards until my back hit the wall. A hand on either side of my body, a tongue sliding into my mouth, easily gaining dominance. My arms stayed wrapped around him, keeping him pressed close.

Gilbert pulled away too soon and my eyes opened, looking over his face. He was smiling – smirking – and holding out a hand. Silently, I took it, and he led me from the bathroom back to the bedrooms. This area was a sort of dormitory, I supposed.

He skipped over my room and went to what I assumed was his own, opening the door and leading me in. It wasn't as dark as mine had been, there being a small ball of fire floating by the bed. It was a technique he had perfected soon after we had left home, very handy for running on dark nights.

I looked back at the entrance, afraid of being caught and reprimanded. I just now thought about the bathroom, hoping that I had been right and there weren't any cameras. But before I could start worrying too much about everything, Gilbert had pulled me onto the bed and forced me to lie down.

His arms wrapped around my waist and I found myself relaxing into them. I turned to face him, a chin tucking my head underneath it.

"Try and sleep more," Gilbert said, quietly. There were few times that he would lose that cocky attitude and condescending grin, but he always seemed to know when to.

Without meaning to, I actually found myself doing as he said, drifting in and out of sleep and eventually staying asleep. I dreamed more, but was no longer haunted by visions of the man who had terrorized the first ten years of my life. With Gilbert there, all I could think about was him.

II.

Feeling Roderich fall asleep, Gilbert sighed softly and turned his gaze up to the ceiling. His half-brother's roommate would have to be just about unconscious to have not been woken by the racket that had been coming from that room. Gilbert had heard it through the wall. In times of distress, Roderich's talents became uncontrollable and would simply let out his emotions, no matter if he was awake or not.

Gilbert knew Roderich. He knew how badly he had been hurt while growing up, knew that he had learned to be as hard as possible on the outside. He had seen his little brother change from always smiling and trusting, to hiding behind a mask of uncaring quiet, the music being his only release.

But he counted himself lucky in the fact that, no matter how hard his little Roddy tried, the boy could not change how he was around Gilbert. Too many years huddled in the backs of closets and away from the fists, too many years with hands held as they tugged each other onward. Just keeping on running.

Ludwig had never seemed to need that support, and Gilbert himself would never admit he did. So he was glad when Roderich didn't hide it. Glad to keep tugging him closer and keep knowing as much as he could.

People just assumed that the two didn't get along. They argued. Their tastes were opposite. It seemed they constantly infuriated each other.

But somewhere along the way, about a year ago, it had just happened. Ludwig had been asleep, Gilbert and Roderich putting up some time-filling banter about whether or not the elder had burnt the wurst that night. Gilbert had been leaning forward; eyes narrowed, for some reason catching the way that Roderich's face flushed, the curve of skin going from neck to shoulder, the way his too-tight clothes formed around him and… They had kissed.

It had been desperate and hurried. Real. Needy. And something had changed after that. Just a subtle shift in the dynamics of the three brothers that Gilbert had thought had gone unnoticed by Ludwig. Apparently not. Not with that accusatory tone he had used earlier in the day. That voice that just said, "Not only did you let your brother go in your place, you let your lover be taken. He would do anything for you. I thought you'd do the same for him."

"Damn it, Roddy," Gilbert murmured, looking down at the sleeping brunette and moving a hand to lightly stroke his cheek. "Why do you just throw yourself around? Why can't you just be a normal selfish little aristocrat for once?"

He sighed, holding onto Roderich tighter for a moment and kissing his forehead. "It will never happen again. You're mine."

Gilbert fancied for a moment that he saw Roderich smile, that small little thing he wore around everyplace now. It was something, but it wasn't the beaming grin he remembered from long ago. The asshole who had fathered Ludwig and himself had beaten that bit of Roderich out of him. Someday, Gilbert was going to get it back.

After a while, Gilbert's eyes shut, arms still wrapped around Roderich. So far, no more nightmares – nightmarish memories from the past, rather – had caused the distressed music to ring out around the room. With any luck, that meant they were done for now.

Eyes still closed, Gilbert blindly pulled the thin blanket over them, then rested his chin on Roderich's head once more. "Mine," he whispered once again, before drifting off as well.

III.

There was one plus about his old cell, Heracles quickly realized. Unlimited nap time. No one to bother you every ten minutes with questions about whether he was finished yet. What did Parazita not understand in the statement "Without an extending period of sleeping, I cannot get all the details," he did not know. It seemed perfectly clear to him.

Finally he was waking up from an hour nap, laying down on the very table he was chained to. All of the details he had been asked to get, he had. For better or for worse. He sat back on the chair.

It wasn't long before Parazita was sitting in front of him, having asked everyone else to clear the room. Luckily, she was not watching the security cameras, and with no one else there, neither could they. Otherwise, someone would have seen Roderich lying in Gilbert's bed, something that was always best to keep secret.

She was waiting. Heracles sighed and pulled up the first file, then brought up another from a stack. He laid them on the table, turned towards the Parasite.

"These two are travelling together," he murmured, sleepily. "Currently in Alaska, the city of Anchorage. Get him," Heracles pointed at a black-haired teenager, looking nearly in his twenties, "and the other will follow. It will not work the other way around."

Parazita nodded and sat back to type something into her cell phone. Dispatching units to Anchorage, no doubt. These two had been smart. None of the American creepers paid any sort of attention to Alaska.

After another moment, she looked back at Heracles, pressing her fingers together. Her lips were pursed slightly and it made the teenager angry – not an emotion he felt easily. How could she manage to steal so many of the gestures his mom had used, those comforting movements that had raised him? It was disquieting, made him want to do something violent. But violence wasn't his thing. It was his…

Green eyes wandered to the other file, set on his lap. Only slightly shakily, he brought it up and opened it, trying to look down at the picture without any sort of emotion. Unfortunately, so many emotions were brought up at just a peek of that face. Even if you couldn't see half of it.

There was a sigh, bringing Heracles' attention back to Parazita. "Surely you found him?" she asked, irritably. It was only partially asking, really. More demanding. More saying that she knew that the Dreamer had found him, and was waiting to get the damn information already, thank you very much.

He nodded, mind wheeling. It was the plan. To get as many people here as possible so they could all break out. Surely, adding him to the mix would make things that much easier. But, to do such a thing…

"Just outside of D.C.," Heracles managed, closing his eyes as he spoke. "Hitchhiking his way towards Los Angeles."

The thing in his mother's body stood, the chair she had been sitting in being pushed backwards abruptly. "You mean to say than an escapee from the very respectable European offices… Is coming right to us? That could only mean…"

Heracles opened his eyes to watch Parazita go pale, hands clutching the back of the chair and knuckles turning white. "He knows. He knows and he is coming here."

Instantly the phone was in her hand again, her thumbs typing frantically as she sent messages. Getting people to apprehend the Elemental. Then she stood back, slipping the little rectangle back into her pocket. She nodded at Heracles.

"Good work. You may sleep more now." Then she left, not even glancing at the security cameras.

Setting the files down on the ground, Heracles laid down on the table once more. He sighed, closing his eyes and rubbing his temple. As if he could sleep after giving information like that. It wasn't anything he hadn't done before, but this was different. No one else would know it had been him to tell the creepers where they had been hiding.

But Sadik would know without one shred of doubt.

End: Chapter Five

Author's Note: Okay. Okay, I know I said I was going to work on this after ATWCCD. But... I lied. I just had to do this.

And I'M SORRY there isn't as much action or plot moving and such here... I'm a sucker for fluffy romance? And PruAus. I can't ever seem to stay away from that.

But overall, I'm pleased with how this turned out. So... Review, please? I love getting them~

And a note to "whoisnotmyname": Gilbo and friends. Ohmygod. I died laughing at that xD