Nothing should have surprised Alfred by this point in time. It seemed as though every moment of his life at current brought with it secrets and enigmas that had previously remained shrouded in shadows. Alfred's life before had been a bit difficult, but getting by had most definitely been manageable. Now… it was becoming too much to bear. Alfred was the resilient sort of man. He was stubborn and strong and determined. He prided himself on his ability to adverse and overcome all of the punches the cruel being that was life threw his way. But… he was tried. Even the most resolute spirits grew weary at some point. This was Alfred's breaking point. He desperately wanted to sink into the floor boards. Fade away into some dark, empty place were the stress of his life couldn't reach him. Just him… alone. No past. No present. No future.

"Well," Arthur's familiar voice growled from the area by the arm chair. "Obviously this is just some fake, pathetic sob story that you're forcing down his throat."

Braginski blinked slowly, "I assure you, Master Kirkland," There was most definitely venom in the way he uttered the wizard's title. "That the story I tell is one hundred percent truth. The cards have all been laid out and Alfred can make the connections. He's a smart boy despite his appearance. Why else would his mother refuse to tell him about his father no matter how he pursued the subject? Why else would she keep the place of her origin shrouded in mystery? Why would she keep her one and only son apart from any relatives who may have loved him as a member of the family? It makes sense, doesn't Alfred? All your mother's oddities at last make sense."

It was true. Everything added up perfectly. Alfred was a stubborn lad even as a child. He often pursued the questions Braginski had brought up, but his mother refused to answer a single one. He distinctly remembered a few times when his sweet tempered mother had snapped under the weight of his questions. Her pupils would dilate leaving her normally blue eyes dark, fathomless pits. Her face would flush red and her fangs would snap from their sheaths in reaction to her anger. Enough, Alfred! She would shout ferociously. Stop asking these questions! I will never tell you! Why can't you just let things lie?! Alfred would snivel and whimper, terrified by his mother's horrible rage. She would break down immediately, returning to the sweet woman he had known her to be. She would pull him into her arms and hush him gently, stroking his soft, wheat colored hair. Alfred could still hear her whispered apologies shuddering softly in his ear.

Alfred bit hard on the inside of his cheek, squeezing his eyes shut and refusing to utter a single word. He would not let Braginski know that he did indeed understand everything.

Braginski smiled in his sickeningly sweet sneer. "When I met your mother I was a mere apprentice…" He droned, idly pacing along the floor boards with his hands folded behind his back. "I had been sent to that middle-of-nowhere town to learn of God's ways under the priest there. I had… a violent sort of temper and my previous teacher believed that the lack of stimulation from country life would be good for me…." And as the priest continued to drone, other things were happening in the minds of his prisoners.

With nothing more than a simple exchange of glances, the two seasoned warlocks had devised a plan that would buy them some time. It wouldn't be much time, but it would at least allow the three of them to conceive a better, more permanent means of escape. Alfred watched quietly from under the top line of his lashes as Francis's pink, glossy lip began to curve around words. They were quick, silent words that even Alfred's heightened hearing could not pick up. Within the matter of a few moments, a blast of thick, blinding smoke filled the room. It suffocated the space with its overwhelming darkness and unbearable scent of burning spices. Alfred's eyes watered and he wretched, struggling to catch his breath in the thick haze. There were a few muted cries accompanied by solid thuds. Suddenly, Alfred felt something grasped him under the arms. A pair of hands? He didn't know who they belonged to and he wasn't entirely sure he cared.

Coughing and gagging, Alfred was dragged to someplace he was unsure of. The trip felt vaguely familiar like he had taken it several times before. The familiarity was confirmed when he next opened his eyes, thin slits they were, and saw the details of Arthur's vast library towering over his head. The high shelves appeared like shadows looking down upon him with pity and shame. Alfred's body stopped moving and it was at that time Alfred forced himself to roll over so he could release the contents of his stomach onto the floor. Whatever that smoke had been it had made the vampire's stomach turn sour. He had already felt sick with shock, but the haze had just been what pushed him over the edge of sickness. The vampire heard Francis' groan from somewhere nearby. "Fantastic… now we're stuck in this room with the scent of his sickness…"

"Leave him alone." Arthur's growl followed immediately after. "He just had his whole life torn apart. I don't blame him for getting sick." Arthur kneeled down next to where Alfred had collapsed back onto the floor. The wizard gently cradled the younger man's head, bringing him over to rest on his lap. "Just take some paper and cover it up. That's all we can do for now." Alfred could feel Arthur's lithe fingers threading through his hair, brushing it away from his eyes. It was a tender loving motion that made Alfred's hell on earth slightly less hellish.

There was the crumple of old, used papers as Francis tried to cover the mess as best as he could. "So what do we do now…? There is a mad man and his lackeys waiting on the other side of that portal." He commented as his hands worked.

"I'm not sure…. But if we had just run into the woods he would have pursued us. And with Alfred in this state we wouldn't have gotten very far…" Arthur said, still tenderly brushing Alfred's wheat colored hair with his fingers. "At least now he can't reach us. I cut off the bridge between the dimensions. No one can get in or out until I reconnect them."

Francis crossed the room to where a plush armchair sat vigil by the fireplace. His crystalline eyes glanced sideways at the couple sitting huddled in front of the fireplace, something strange and foreign swimming in his usually starry stare. He stared into space a few moments longer before speaking once more, "And I again I ask, what are we to do? Can we not just draw a transportation circle to take us to safety?"

Arthur's green eyes glowed, "Of course we can't do that. Transportation circles cannot be used in magic made dimensions such as these. Surely you should know that or perhaps you have forgotten such a simple fact of magic in your posh days at the palace?"

The elder man frowned, the lines at the corners of his delicate pink lips becoming more prominent. "Do not patronize me, Arthur. Had I not been here surely Braginski would have overpowered you and that mongrel of a vampire. You should have left him to that crazed priest. Maybe then you and I wouldn't be in this hopeless predicament."

Arthur looked aghast at the words that came from Francis's mouth, "You-!" The wizard was at a loss of words for a brief moment. "H-How dare you say such wretched things! Would you honestly wish the wrath of that lunatic on anyone?"

"Perhaps I would!" Francis retorted turning swiftly and making his lacy coat twirl around him like and angry bird ruffling its feathers. "Obviously he is no good for you! I have never seen your attacks become so violent before! And besides that, now he has trapped us here in this filthy library with a madman waiting for us on the other side! It is his fault that madman is even here in the first place!"

"What right have you to say Alfred is no good for me!? You have no idea what sort of man he is! And my condition is no business of yours!" Arthur glared at Francis with those acid colored eyes, the frown on his lips set deep. "… You had your chance, Francis, and you blew it. The only one you can blame is yourself…" Perhaps Francis' anger was based upon the fact that the elder man still had feelings for his schoolmate. It was true that for a short while Francis and Arthur had danced on the border between being friends and being lovers. But after Francis' abandonment of Arthur in his greatest time of need, the wizard had forever felt a sort of bitterness towards his peer.

Francis looked at Arthur hard and long, his pale fingers curled into tight fists, "Do you honestly think I wished to leave you as I did…?" He inquired, voice trembling slightly.

"Whether you wished to or not the point is that you did. You were afraid of what was happening to me…. And you ran off with your tail between your legs just like the coward you are." And there was silence again. Francis dared not bring his eyes to meet Arthur's lest he feel like the younger man was actually right about him. Arthur looked back down at Alfred, brushing his hair away from his eyes in an affectionate manner. "But Alfred is different from you. He's different from everybody. He's sees me for who I truly am and not the mark that I bear. As loving and kind as Master was to me, his taking me in was based upon discovering my mark. Even the other Alfred feared me when I went dark…. This Alfred is different. He is not afraid of me and that is something I have to cherish greatly…"

Francis' lips parted as though he wished to cry out, to say something in his defense, but both of them knew there was nothing he could say to make himself seem justified. So Francis just pressed his lips together and stared hard into the floor. After a few moments he turned, his billowing coat swirling around him, swallowing him up in its ruffles and lace. And then he was gone. A simple parlor trick, Arthur was sure. One that got Francis out of situations that became too uncomfortable for his tastes. Arthur saw him reappear on the second floor loft for a moment before he proceeded to hide in the shadows of the towering shelves.

Arthur released a heavy sigh, turning his attention to the lad laying half-conscious in his lap. Alfred groaned softly in his misery, screwing his eyes shut. Arthur shushed him tenderly, petting his soft, wheat colored hair. "Shh… I'm here, love… I'm here…" He cooed softly. It was true… what were they to do now? If Braginski had pursued Alfred for this many years there was no doubt the priest wouldn't mind waiting for the three of them to emerge from the library in a day or two. With no food or water anywhere in the library it would only be a matter of time before they needed to emerge.

But besides the fact there was a madman waiting to viciously murder them, Alfred's last ceremony was supposed to be performed tonight. Since the lad was not yet dead from an imbalance in magical energy, Arthur assumed Francis must have taken his place in performing the ceremony. The wizard was fairly grateful that Francis hadn't simply let the uncontrolled energy tear Alfred to pieces. He very well could have if he so chose…. But who was to say that still wouldn't happen? Alfred was in a very fragile very dark state of mind at the moment. His thoughts were wandering back to that original idea of using magic for purposes of revenge. The lad could not afford to think those ugly thoughts. Arthur feared the magic inside his partner would deem him unworthy, unfit to wield its destructive power. If that were to happen, Alfred would end up just like his brother…. The first Alfred had become too greedy, wanted to gain power and control with his new found abilities. That made him unworthy and in the end it was his demise.

Arthur noticed the thick skin around Alfred's neck was still seared and raw from the silver collar Braginski had bound him with. A simple healing charm should help ease his suffering if not heal it entirely. The wizard drew in a composing breath, uttering a few words of incantation. The palm of his hand began to glow a delicate green. He allowed his hand to hover over the damaged flesh, watching as the pained look on Alfred's boyish face diminished slightly if anything at all. What was left was emotional pain and unfortunately that was something that could not be eased with the use of magic. "Lovely…?" Arthur hummed softly, waiting patiently for any sort of response from the lad. "Alfred… can you tell me what you're thinking…?" He asked the younger man, letting a hand pass affectionately through his wheat colored hair.

Alfred didn't respond to the question with anything more than a low groan. Arthur hushed him gently, like a mother crooning over her child. "Love… I know this has been a… a rough day, but… I need you to clear your mind of your ill thoughts. The ceremony still has to happen tonight and… and if you are in dark state of mind… I fear you will not make it through unscathed…"

"… And how can you expect me to do that… Arthur?" Alfred spoke, voice barely above a whisper. "I just found my existence was the result of a rape… by a sinister vampire… who turned my mother into one of his sinister kind… and that's why Braginski is trying to kill me…. Can you honestly expect me to not think ill of this world and everything in it…?" Alfred opened his eyes into slits, staring up into to the high ceiling. "Perhaps I should just let the magic tear me apart… I would probably be better off that way…."

Heat suddenly filled Arthur's chest. It was a searing kind of heat like a metal poker that had been sitting in flames of the hearth too long just prodding into his heart. "Don't say such things." The wizard nearly shouted, grip tightening on the sleeve of his partner's shirt. Alfred hissed softly at the nails that dug into his skin in the process. Arthur hushed him again, gently apologizing for the action. "Dear, please don't think that way... Death is not the answer to this problem, neither is revenge, or murder, or anything of the sort…. Unfortunately you've been thrust into a rather grim situation and… and there is not much to be done about that. The best thing we can do it try to move on and-!"

"Move on?" The laugh in Alfred's voice was dry, humorless, and bitter. "Arthur, how can I…?"

"Because I did." Arthur replied back promptly. "Like I said, things seem grim now, but eventually all things pass. I… I killed people, Alfred, murdered them in cold blood and I still managed to make my way passed it."

There was not much that Alfred could say to that without sounding like a horrible person. While his situation was indeed a grim one it was not the same as Arthur's. He had not killed people and had not had to face every day with their blood on his hands. But Alfred was a selfish, petulant child and if he was going to feel misery then the rest of the world should feel it too. "Leave me be, Arthur. I don't want to hear any of this 'you'll move on' bullshit right now…"

Arthur's affectionate petting of Alfred's hair ceased, eyes wide and staring at the vampire's head in his lap. Arthur's blood grew hot, his hand itching with the desire to strike the boy for saying such a cruel and hurtful thing. How dare Alfred behave that way when Arthur was only trying his best to give him comfort? But… no, Arthur had to remember that Alfred was fragile and susceptible to his anger. "Fine then…" Arthur whispered, continuing to stroke Alfred's hair as he had been before. "I'll stay quiet, just please… heed what I say. I love you dearly and I am not sure what I would do if something were to happen to you…" Alfred merely hummed softly and closed his eyes, turning his head away from Arthur. "You should probably rest for now… you're going to need your strength…" Arthur whispered, focusing his energy to administer a simple charm to help Alfred sleep. Within a few minutes the lad was quietly snoring, sent off to what was hopefully a blissful sleep. Arthur stayed there a few minutes longer, just staring down at Alfred and wondering if he truly would heed his warning. He hated to think what would happen if he didn't….

Arthur released a sigh, gently removing his lap from under Alfred's head and replacing it with his folded up vest. It was not the best pillow, but it was better than the floor. He stood slowly, noticing the pain that had developed in his lower back, most likely a result of his and Alfred's earlier relations. It wasn't just his lower back either. It ached between his shoulder blades as well, deep down under his skin as if in his very bones. He groaned softly, rolling his shoulders as he tried to will it away. There was a moment when he swooned, the world running together in a mass of shadows and colors before it righted itself once more. Arthur staggered, clutching his head and blinking to make sure the world was spinning around him. He leaned against the nearby desk, sucking in a calming breath. He wasn't entirely sure what had caused the momentary dizzy spell, but he marked it off as the stress of the day. It hadn't exactly been an easy one. But Arthur pushed his own problems aside. There were much bigger thinks to worry about than a bit of anxiety. Much bigger things.

I know, I know, it's been a long time and it's a pretty disappointing filler chapter, but please bear with me. I'm away in Florida on a college program and I hardly have any time to sleep and shower let alone write fanfiction. So, sorry it's not fantastic, but it's something at least. Thanks lovies!