A/N: I'm going to Greece in a few days, so that explains the numerous chapters!

Chapter Twenty
Looking Too Closely

He took the thermometer out of his mouth and read the number out loud to which the red liquid had risen.

"101 degrees. Give or take."

Give or take, he was one degree away from serious concern. And his temperature would rise. That was something Alice didn't doubt.

"One percent?" he asked casually. "How certain are you?"

She could not repeat it to him. She could not tell him yet again that only one of one hundred men who got such infections lived once healed. She could not repeat to him that it was indeed a one percent shot.

"If you're feeling hot, try take off some of your clothes," she muttered. "It'll help keep the fever down. Or take a cold shower, despite the...situation in the restroom."

"No, thank you, to the shower," he said with a grunt, getting off the ground.

He moved a large side desk in front of the front door. He took out two of his guns and placed them on the bed. He kept one in his pocket and the fourth was in Alice's possession. He took of the coat and his sweater, remaining only in his green sleeveless shirt and pants.

Yeah, Alice could imagine how hot he felt with such a fever.

He walked to the bed and picked up her pieces of clothes the now dead men had pulled off of her. He placed the pants, socks and shoes beside her.

"Wear them. In case you need to run."

"Me? You mean we? Right?"

"Yeah," he said dismissively.

Her eyes felt wide.

She was surprised to see that he turned his back to her while fumbling in his backpack. She quickly put on the pants first, buttoning it up. It reminded her of that moment when those Nazi men were fumbling with her buttons, but she tried not to think of that now. She sat on the ground and pulled on her socks and shoes.

He had his phone in his hand again. Alice could somehow see that his body seemed tense.

The phone went to his ear and Alice scowled. He was making a call again.

"Ja, es gibt ein Problem. Ich gehe tot. Nein, ich bin serieus."

Again there was that German and Alice shut her eyes in frustration. She only caught the words problem and serious. For the rest, he kept her in the dark.

"Du schuldest mir. Weisst du noch? Folge Aro's Koordinate. Es gab ein Mädchen. Hilfe ihr, bitte."

At this point, Alice was absolutely clueless. It did not help either that he spoke fast. She believed she heard something like coordinate, but that was it.

"Alice Brandon."

She snapped her eyes open and it seemed that he'd given her name to whomever was behind that phone. She couldn't miss her own name, whatever language he decided to speak. And the only thing she could connect the word coordinate with, was that watch on her wrist.

"Ja, danke. Tschüs."

The words didn't make much sense, but they brought Alice's little trust in the Nazi down the gutter. The watch on her wrist felt like a piece of rock. She did not know technology well, but she was frightened that whomever knew her position would find her soon.

The gun, suddenly her best friend, was instantly in her hand and she pointed it at him. She got on her feet and walked very close to him, so her aim wouldn't miss.

He pressed a button on the phone and turned. When he saw her shocked eyes staring at him in horror, he quirked an eyebrow. He barely glanced at the gun.

"How much did you catch?" he asked.

"Enough! Problem. Alice Brandon. Couldn't have been a bit more discreet, could you? Or the simple fact that you talk German all of a sudden? God, I cannot believe you had me fooled."

"If you think a little harder, everything would make sense."

"About what?" she snapped, her hands shaking. "About how you tricked me? Now you know you're dying, you're calling a Nazi buddy to finish whatever job you had with me?"

He stepped forward.

"Stay there or I'll shoot you!"

"Go ahead. I'm dying anyway."

She watched with wide eyes how he closed distance between them and Alice needed to think fast. She needed to trust her instinct, right now. It was telling her to shoot. The man in between shot her three friends dead.

After a shaky breath, she pulled the trigger. She flinched at the small sound it made, but nearly not as loud as she expected it to.

He smiled, and said, "Good for you, Alice. You've the killer's instinct. That reassures me."

Alice dropped her arm, feeling stupid for believing he would actually give her a loaded gun.

With some quick thinking, she jumped forward with her new knife and pressed the button, just like he taught her. He quickly leaned away, turning his arm and covering her dangerous hand with his.

"Let me go!" she said, pulling her arm hard.

"Let the knife go, America. You're acting like an enraged teenager."

Those words hit a soft spot inside her.

Whatever was in the small flask might save her. If she believed what he told her and she chose to believe him. With her free hand, she took the flash and took off the cap with her teeth. It was on her lips, tipped...she could almost taste the poison...

Her head was snapped sideways, her hand flying away from her lips and the flask slipping from between her fingers. A second later she felt a sharp sting on her cheek.

"Spit it out!" he yelled.

He was in full panic mode, while Alice hadn't swallowed a drop.

Then again, how was he supposed to know that? He gripped her head tightly with one hand, and shoved two fingers in her mouth, touching her deep inside her throat, causing an instant gag reflex. He pulled his fingers away from her mouth, certain she would bite if they stayed in her mouth for long. She gagged again and couldn't help but spit some bile out on the floor.

"Good," he said harshly.

"You slapped me!" she said in horror, holding her cheek.

"I was saving your pathetic life!"

"It was all still in the bottle," she murmured defensively.

"There would still be a bottle if you didn't choose to act like an impulsive teenager."

Again, he hit her with a soft spot.

"I hate you," she snapped. "Thank you for giving me an empty gun."

"Should have tried it out when I told you to," he reminded her.

"Preferably on you," she hissed. "Now I understand why you're keeping me in the dark. It was to gain my trust."

"There are things I won't tell you," he said tightly. "People, if they get the chance, will torture it out of you."

His hand came up, pointing at the restroom.

"Do you need to see that again? That's a reminder for you what torture is."

Alice flinched and suppressed the bile from rising to her throat.

"The only thing I'll say, because you showed me clearly that in this room either I or you need to die, is this. I called a friend to whom I spoke German, not because you were not allowed to know what I was saying, but in case the Nazi was listening in and heard English. When they catch English words, they'll do anything in their power to find us. Separate us. Torture us. Experiment on us. Kill us. I spoke English, to avoid the Nazi."

There was so much passion in his voice that had Alice staring at the man in a strange way. He scoffed when he noticed her goofy way of looking at him.

"What's the matter with you now?" he asked with a scrunched up nose.

"N-No, oh... uh... n-nothing," she stuttered too quickly.

He was now staring at her in a rude manner that made Alice look away nervously. He must've found it odd that she was suddenly so squeaky and nervous. He could not make out what changed this woman so drastically.

The knife was still in her hand. Her finger went up and she pressed the button so the blade would shoot back in.

Not only did he speak so passionately about why was keeping her in the dark about certain things, but also - for the first time - he admitted to avoiding the Nazi. That gave her hope. She did not think she'd ever feel hope again. This stranger, however foreign, had helped her from the beginning. She was well aware of his crimes as well, but she wondered if he possessed a certain power or immunity. She'd heard about it from Jacob, but never gave it that much thought.

Men with such power or immunity were rare. They gained crucial information.

"Seriously, what's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing," she gritted out. "Although, if you call my life pathetic, why try and save it?"

Her voice showed pain and she didn't even bother to hide it. He hurt her when he said that.

"It would be," he said with a hard voice and steady eyes, "if you died now. During this war. But you won't. I refuse it. Suicide is not a noble way to go, America."