Wow, I actually wrote something! Anyways, this is my first Kid Icarus fanfiction, so I hope it's good! I haven't actually played Uprising yet, to be honest, mainly because my 3DS had unresponsive trigger buttons and couldn't play the game. I'm getting a new one now though, and once I save up for the game I'll get it too!

Annnnyways, this was originally was going to be a oneshot, but the story itself became a little too long for it to be one, so I broke it up into two parts. I have the second written down, I just have to type it. Expect it in the next few days!

Also, remember that this is an AU, so please don't harp on me about uncanon things and what-not. I had to twist some things to make this work, so...

Ok, here's the story! Enjoy Part 1 of Path to Freedom!

Disclaimer: I do not own Kid Icarus or any of its characters. I only own my OCs to help the story flow.

Path to Freedom

Kid Icarus AU

Pit x Dark Pit

What day is it?

What time is it?

Will I ever leave?

Are they even looking for me?

These are things that spun through Pittoo's head. He lay back against the wall he was attached to. The chains clunked against the floor, reminding him that he cannot even attempt escape with them present. They mocked him, being the only things that are holding him away from freedom.

Dark Pit laughed coldly to himself. How did he even get caught like this? How did he even let himself get caught? He sighed and looked up towards the ceiling, the back of his head resting on the wall he was bound to. The dark angel's hair was slightly messy and lacking the usual golden crown that rested there.

And because of its absence is why he could not contact Lady Palutena.

Pittoo grimaced to himself. Great, I've picked up Pit's habit of calling her that… His face fell neutral once again.

I wonder if Pit is looking for me…

Did they even know he was missing? He never really stuck around the palace much, but come on. He made a habit of visiting Pit at least two or three times a week…him not showing up randomly with his sassy attitude would strike odd with his light twin, right?

Dark Pit lightly shook his head.

I don't need help from them. I can get out without a problem, he stated in his mind. I just need the right moment to attempt escape… Pittoo pulled at his chains a bit, only to succeed at making noise and irritating his aching wing and other sore areas.

The man had a damn good aim with a rifle, that's for sure.

The dark angel sat in silence again, his thoughts whirling about since there was nothing else to occupy himself with. He tried to devise a cunning escape plan. Eventually, though, his mind gave up on that topic and barreled towards his more personal thoughts he liked to pretend that didn't exist.

Pittoo found himself thinking that way a lot in there.

He wondered if the cheerful angel would ever find him, or if he'll ever see the annoying idiot ever again.

I have to tell him… Pittoo's mind hit the brakes on that thought. Wait, what? What do I have to tell him? He began to deny his own thoughts. No, these feelings don't exist…I never had them…I most certainly DO NOT like him. I DO NOT like him at ALL.

Dark Pit cursed situations like these, always taking the time to bring up thoughts and emotions that he worked so hard to keep hidden.

I need to get my thoughts together if I don't want to be trapped—

The sound of a heavy lock clanging on the floor reached his ears, stopping Pittoo's thoughts instantly. Though he did not look up, he already knew the bastard was outside the door.

The door opened, not ominously, but still creaked in a way that it bugged Dark Pit's ears. There was a silence before footsteps slowly begun to make their way into the room. Each heavy boot thumped on the cement floor, louder with each nearing step. Finally, after what seemed like ages to the dark angel, the thumps stopped in front of him. He felt the man's cold eyes boring into his very soul.

Pittoo wished he had his staff. He'd blow this guy's head straight into the Underworld.

"Look at me," a deep voice commanded, none-too-nicely.

Of course Pittoo didn't listen.
The man's brow furrowed and he spoke with a much more threatening and demanding tone, "I said, look at me." The order was spat at the dark, as if he was nothing but a lowly dog.

Again, Pittoo gave the man no acknowledgement.

The man snarled before taking his fat, sausage-like fingers and gripping Pittoo's jaw as hard as he could. He forced him to look up. He leaned into the angel's face and sneered, "When I say look at me, you look at me! Got it, angel scum?"

Dark Pit glared at the man, his red pools burning the bastard's cold blue, then spat right into his captor's face.

The man yowled slightly, his face twisting into disgust and releasing his vice-like grip on Dark Pit's jaw. He reached into his pocket of his overalls and pulled out a dirty handkerchief and wiped his face. He scrubbed the skin, trying to remove every little drop of saliva off of his angered features.

Dark Pit smirked, his ego swelling at what he managed to accomplish. Bastard doesn't know how lucky he has me restrained—

THWACK!

The sound reverberated throughout the room, piercing the steady silence of the darkness. The angel's head hung low after the blow, the left side of his face stinging and starting to swell.

"Pick up your head, scum."

The dark angel remained still.

That only rewarded him a well-placed boot to his solar plexus.

Dark Pit curled in on himself, cradling his abdomen the best he could with bound hands. His ebony wings folded around himself—well, at least the uninjured one did. The right wing remained stiff and still, still healing from the small gunshot wound. The chains clunked and jangled with his movements, and his body trembled slightly from the pain.

"Will you listen to me now?" The man's tone of voice made it seem more like another command than a question.

Pittoo did not respond, unable to move with the pain in his stomach. His captor became even more displeased, and raised his hand in preparation for another blow, this time aiming for his head.

The dark finally looked up, the left side of his pale-ish complexion red and swollen. A small trail of blood leaked from the right corner of his mouth, slowly sliding down his chin to drip on his black toga. His eyes, although scrunched and furrowed with pain, still held the same resistance they always had around this man. Pittoo looked at his captor right in the eyes, glare never faltering.

The man smiled, pleased with the dark's compliance this time around. "I came to tell you good news," his voice rang with happiness, though whether it was true or not, Pittoo couldn't tell. "A very rich man heard the rumors of a poor farmer who claims to have caught a living, breathing angel." He smirked. "That same rich aristocrat came to me today while in town and asked about that said angel.

"'Oh, I have one alright!' is what I told him," the bastard crossed his arms and shook his head, as if in disbelief. "Of course, he doesn't believe me." The man's gaze rested on Dark Pit again. "So then I made him an offer," he smirked evilly.

Dark Pit continued to listen in silence, not caring where this was going really.

"I told him I would bring you to the old abandoned wood mill outside the forest tomorrow, and if he wanted to see you for real he should meet me there around noon. Then he said, 'If this angel you speak of is truly real and alive, I'll pay you a good fortune to…take it off your hands.'"

Dark Pit's gaze filled with anger. This bastard is going to sell me! He's going to sell me like livestock at an auction! He snarled at the asshole.

"To hell with that, bastard!" Pittoo spat, "There's no way in hell that I'm letting you sell me like a—"

His sentence was cut off by an extremely heavy blow to his head.

Pittoo collapsed on his side, his vision now dizzy and head pounding. The constant abuse he has received during his stay really made it hurt. He tried to glare up at his soon-to-be ex-captor, but his sight started going black on the edges.

This was—what, maybe the fourth time he was knocked unconscious this way?

All the dark angel heard was the cruel man's cold voice before he blacked out.

"You better keep your mouth, scum. Or you'll suffer more pain than what I've given you so far."

The door slammed shut and the lock was clunked back into place.

Pit soared through the skies, his bright blue eyes searching every little detail in the forest below him. His white wings glowed with the Power of Flight (he doesn't need it, but it was easier to cover more ground with Palutena's help), and the white feathers flowed smoothly through the wind with ease.

It's been five days since Pittoo hasn't showed up at the palace for his usual visit, and three since he was proclaimed missing, and Pit has not stopped searching for his dark twin since.

It's safe to assume that he hasn't slept in a few days either. The light angel's eyes were shadowed from lack of sleep, and his usual happiness was lacking.

"Pit," Palutena's voice rang through the gold crown that rested on his head.

"What is it, Lady Palutena?" he answered, exhaustion present in his voice.

"I think it's time you rest."

"No!" Pit cried, then realized his tone with the goddess of light. "I mean, I can't rest Lady Palutena. Pittoo's out there somewhere and I have to find him!"

Palutena sighed, watching her captain in the pool back at her palace. She knew why the angel hasn't stopped looking for the dark, but he was pushing himself too hard for her liking.

"You need rest, Pit. You're exhausted! If you did find Pittoo now, how would you be able to help him in the state you're in?"

"I'd find a way, Lady Palutena…" Pit's voice faltered at the end, as if he lost interest with their little "argument". The goddess of light grew slightly worried, hoping that he wasn't passing out from exhaustion right now…

"Pit, is everything alright?"

Pit didn't answer, he was fixated on a shiny object outside the forest that caught his eye. It felt like some small, weak force was calling him down to it…

He angled his wings, causing him to glide down the air currents in a wide circle. The brown-haired angel decreased his speed, and he slowly circled downward towards the ground.

"Pit?" Palutena's worried voice called again. "Did you find something?"

He ignored her still (which was unusual for Pit), landing onto the dirt path outside the forest. Keeping up a small jog, the light ran over to what he assumed where the shiny object was.

As he was running, Pit noticed the dirt appeared a few shades darker in a few splotchy areas. He slowed his pace to a walk, trailing his ocean eyes along the dark patches of soil. The light angel grew apprehensive at the scene—those splotches looked an awful like dried blood.

I hope Pittoo's alright… his thoughts called on randomly.

Finally, he reached his point of interest. And what he saw brought his to his knees.

"Pit?"

The angel still gave her no acknowledgement. He leaned forward while on his knees, reaching his hands out and carefully scooping the object that lay in the stained dirt.

Pit's shoulders began to shake, and tears started to form in the corner of his usually bright, shining eyes. A sob escaped his lips, and the tears rolled down his cheeks, landing on his white toga.

"Pit!?" Palutena cried, "Pit!? What's wrong!?"

He only shook his head at his goddess's voice and looked down at the item in his hands. The mourning angel hugged it tight to his chest.

Palutena watched with extreme worry in her eyes, until she saw of what lay in her captain's arms. "Oh, Pit…" she whispered, low enough for him to not hear her.

In his embrace lay a familiar golden crown stained with the red dye of blood.