He immediately plopped down onthe computer chair, flinching and holding back a loud groan when hisass hit the firm surface. How the hell had he not realized he was soreas all fuck earlier? He supposed his mind had been on other things toomuch to notice. And the observation didn't really help him much, so hepushed it to the back of his mind and glanced over at Brendon to makesure he was still asleep. And he was, like a baby. Ignoring theonslaught of guilt and focusing instead on the rising feeling ofsuccess, he focused his eyes back on the paper. The main message - thatthe king had let himself be swayed into starting a war - was clearenough, but everything else was incredibly vague, and Ryan might nothave understood anything at all if it weren't for the fact that he'dalways done exceedingly well at military strategies and movements atthe academy. He was a colonel's son after all. Everyone in his father'sfamily was military. If he hadn't understood these things familydinners would've been even more boring than they already were growingup.

And so, he put his militarilyraised glasses on and looked over the two-page document and its threepages of related papers over again. 'Surprise attack' meant movingslowly, just a few troops and planes and ships at the time, maybe plansome great big troop exercises up in Virginia, as close to the borderas they could get without becoming suspected. Although Beauregia was alot smaller than DURA, for them to move their troops was a lot harder.Beauregia were incredibly touchy about their capital's safety, and soabout half of their military, at all times, was in Mississippi, centredaround Jackson, Louisiana, Arkansas and Alabama. Most of the rest werestationed along the Mexican border. You'd think that two Catholicscoundrel states would get along very well, but Beauregia just didn'tget along very well with anyone it would seem, and during the lastsixty-something years of tentative peace between DURA, they had movedon to have countless, almost constant, border scuffles with theFederalis. Moving their army and navy to a point where it could attackDURA without detection - the airforce was always a lot easier andquicker, but from what Ryan could read, it would be an all out attack,so the airforce had to wait for the rest - was a whole lot harder thanit would be for DURA, who, in a bit of a paranoid move perhaps, hadalways had the greatest concentration of troops in California, Nevada,Utah, Colorado, Kansas, Missouri, Kentucky, West Virginia and Maryland.Basically the most people possible were stationed as close to theborder as possible. New York had good enough defences, but if it fell,plans were already up for how San Fransisco could take over. It wasmore important to keep out a southern invasion.

All this basically meant thatso long as he got this information back as quickly as possible, hiscountry still stood a better chance. Their army was larger, theirweapons and machinery generally more well-kept and newer, and they hada lot more allies. Ryan did by no means want war, but even less did hewant DURA to lose one. He sucked in a deep breath, running a handthrough his hair before he picked up his cellphone again, turned on thecamera function and carefully took pictures of every page, cursing thefact that the bureau hadn't deemed it important to give his phone agood camera. Well, this would just have to do, wouldn't it? He thoughthe'd already be able to quote the whole thing anyway. Finally, castinganother cautious glance over his shoulder, he sent the photos in anencrypted message and put the papers back as he'd found them beforestanding carefully and walking silently back to return the phone to hispocket. And then he silently crept back into bed, feeling stranger thanever as he cuddled up next to the boy who lay there. He wasn't about toget any sleep that night, but at least Brendon wouldn't wake up towonder where he was.

***

Brendon woke naked, warm andpressed against something equally naked and warm. Humming sleepily, hestretched his lips into a smile and opened his eyes, blinking a fewtimes to get used to the light. There was Ryan beside him, his eyesopen, and Brendon couldn't help himself but smile even more at thesight. "Good morning," he mumbled, carefully stretching his arms abovehis head. "Were you watching me sleep?" he smirked, looking down atRyan once again, and reaching out to take one of his hands, lacingtheir fingers together. He'd never felt so relaxed and just-- happy ashe did now. It was a foreign feeling, but one he hoped he'd get verywell acquainted with. He sighed and pressed a kiss to Ryan's temple,bringing both of their hands up to stroke the side of his boyfriend'sface. "I'd kiss you properly, but I really need to brush my teeth," hemumbled, then laughed. Who would have thought he'd be saying thingslike that?

He was silent for a fewmoments, reliving the events of last night. All the worry he'd feltcoming back from the castle had completely vanished- at least for now.And he certainly didn't want to think about war this morning, or forthe rest of the day, or for the rest of his life. Sighing again, hesmiled at Ryan and bit his lip. "You wanna take a shower?" he asked,purposely leaving out the 'with me'.

Ryan nodded, managing a smallsmile. His mind hadn't stopped whirling all night although his bodywas exhausted he hadn't slept a wink, just as he'd predicted. He gave aslight yawn and pulled himself up to a sitting position, wincing justslightly. Hopefully not enough that Brendon noticed. Then he droppedhis feet to the floor and got up, holding out his hand and hoping hewasn't standing too much like a cowboy who'd been in the saddle toolong.

Brendon took Ryan's hand andlead him to the washroom. He drew back the shower curtains andproceeded to make the water as hot as it could go without scaldingthem. "Do you... are you in any pain?" he asked softly, ushering Ryaninto the shower and then stepping in after him. Drawing the curtainsclosed behind them, he grabbed a bottle of body soap and poured adollop into the palm of his hand. "Want me to... wash your back?" heasked, chuckling softly and motioning for Ryan to turn around. It wasthe least he could do, really. Rubbing his hands together to lather thesoap, he carefully placed one of them on Ryan's back and proceeded todo just what he'd asked. He hoped Ryan didn't feel weird about it--Brendon felt like it was perfectly normal after what they'd done. Whatwas a shower compared to sex? As he washed Ryan rather thoroughly, hehummed absently, remembering that Ryan said he'd liked his voice, andhoping to put him at ease.

"It's more just... a bituncomfortable," Ryan answered, scrunching his nose up slightly. "Andsome muscles feeling a bit spent, that's all." He looked over hisshoulder with a small smile, his mind finally seeming to give him a bitof a rest. And when Brendon's voice started sounding, ever so softly,he couldn't help but relax more, leaning into the hands on his back alittle. It was... nice, really. He'd never thought he'd especially likesharing a shower, especially since his experience with communal showershad mostly consisted of everyone laughing at his skinniness, but it wascomfortable.

All of a sudden another soundwas contrasting with Brendon's humming and Ryan nearly jumped out ofhis skin, pulling away with an apologetic look. "That's my ringtone,"he stated, biting his lip slowly and leaning in to place a quick peckon the younger boy's lips before he exited the shower and picked up atowel, hoping Brendon wouldn't mind too much, and hurried to his jeanswhere he extricated the phone. "Yeah?" he answered, trying to keep theannoyance out of his voice. The thoughts were back with a vengeance.

"Ross," a voice sounded on theother end, and Ryan, with only a little difficulty, recognized thespeaker as Director White. "Well done, and about damn time. I need youback to report in person. The tickets have been sent to your email.Print them. Your plane leaves from Jackson at three this afternoon.Tickets to JFK will be waiting in Heathrow. Be on time."

And then there was a click, andRyan felt stunned for a moment. He was leaving. He couldn't believe hewas leaving, and he had no way of knowing whether they'd want him toreturn afterwards. He should feel relieved, shouldn't he? Happy even.But he didn't. He took a deep breath and let the phone drop ontoBrendon's bed before walking back to the bathroom, scrabbling for somekind of an excuse. "My grandmother had a heart attack," he finallystated. "They doctors said she won't last another two days." Heswallowed slightly. "I need to go back."

Brendon, who'd beendistracting himself from Ryan's absence by washing his hair, turned atthe sound of his voice. He dropped his hands to his sides, trying toprocess what Ryan had just said. "Oh," he whispered, turning away and,after standing motionless for a few seconds, started to rinse theshampoo from his hair. Once he had finished, he forced himself to lookback at the boy standing in his washroom and swallowed loudly. "Okay.That's... yeah. Alright. Bye, then," he said, composing his featuresinto that familiar mask that somehow felt unlike him now. He clearedhis throat and nodded absently. Ryan should see his family, though itwas awfully convenient, wasn't it? The day after they have sex, he hasto leave... Brendon inhaled sharply and stepped out of the shower,grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his hips. "Well, you'd bettergo pack up," he said, facing away from Ryan.

"Hey," Ryan whispered, grippingBrendon's shoulders gently and turning him around. He leaned in andpecked the younger boy's nose. "It's only for a week or so, until..."He hated acting at this moment, but swallowing and blinking had tofollow that sentence, or it would seem fake. "Until after the funeral,"he whispered. "I... don't think I could forgive myself if I didn't go,but I am going to miss you, a lot." He took a deepbreath, wrapping his arms around Brendon's frame. "And it's not byeyet," he added into the boy's hair, squeezing his shoulders gently."You could get your driver to give me a ride to Jackson, come along.That way we'll have hours yet, and it's just for a week anyway."

Brendon took a deep breath,leaning into Ryan's embrace and wrapping his arms around the boy'swaist. "Okay," he whispered, shaking his head. "Sorry, I just... Sorryfor being such an idiot," he said, forcing out a chuckle. But even ifRyan said it wasn't goodbye yet, Brendon couldn't help but feel that itwas, in a way. But then, he'd been gone a few times for a week, so whyshould he worry about Ryan leaving? He would be a lot farther, ofcourse, but it was essentially the same thing, wasn't it? "Yeah, I'llcall a driver and... do we have to leave very soon? What time do youhave to be at the airport?" he pulled back a bit so that he could lookat Ryan properly and pecked his lips briefly, unable to stop himself.

"Take-off is at three," Ryanstated. "You have to be there two hours early for internationalflights, I think. So one," he concluded, rubbing the other boy's backfirmly before leaning in and initiating another kiss, a bit of a longerone this time. He peered through the door into the clock on the wall inthe main bedroom. "It's half nine now, and we're two and a half hoursout of Jackson. I don't need much since I have stuff at home too, sopacking won't take long, but we should probably leave in an hour." Hethought a bit, dropping his forehead to Brendon's shoulder for a shortmoment before looking back up, decision made. "I should probably go saybye to Spencer and Jon too," he added, determining that if they didn'tlet him come back he wanted to at least have that closure.

Brendon nodded absently, thensmirked. "Maybe we should get dressed first," he suggested, chucklingto himself. He shook his head and headed into his room, rummaging inhis closet before coming out with a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt.He considered for a moment before taking out another pair of sweats andhanding them to Ryan. "You should always wear sweat pants on an aeroplane," he explained, shrugging. "They're the most comfortable." Heslipped his own grey sweat pants on and tugged the bright yellow shirtover his head. "And we'll have a lot of fun waking Jon, because Ireally don't think he'd be up by now," he added, taking his towel andquickly drying his hair before shaking it out. If he could ignore thefact that Ryan would be leaving, this would just be another day...until Ryan actually left, that is. And then he'd be alone, and thoughtsof the war would come rushing back. But for now, he kept them at bay,and smiled at Ryan every chance he had.

Ryan smiled gratefully andslipped on the sweats, tightening the string and making a small knot.It was quite a relief not to have to wear his own clothes today. "Youshould hang out with Jon and Spencer a bit," he advised. "They're quitegood at taking your mind off things." He picked up his near-clean shirtfrom the day before and put it on as well before slipping his phoneinto the pocket of the sweats. "And yeah, these are definitelycomfortable," he added. Then he flashed Brendon another smile, pickedup his jeans and headed for the door. "Come on," he called over hisshoulder before crossing the hall and unlocking his own room. He headedinside and pulled on a hoodie before finding a bag and throwing asingle outfit as well as some socks and underpants into it before goinginto the bathroom and throwing as many products as he thought wouldlook natural into it as well. Then he added his laptop and turned backaround. "All done," he declared, dropping the bag on the floor andlooking around the room. His eyes landed on one of the few picturesthat weren't manips. On it was Ryan, perhaps twelve years old, grinningwide in a lush green park where he fed ducks with his actualgrandmother. She had died a few years ago now, and Ryan still clearlyremembered being devastated for weeks. He felt the corners of his mouthpull down a little, unintentionally, but he supposed it was wellenough. At least it was in character.

Brendon chuckled. "That wasquick," he said, following Ryan's gaze to the picture of him with whathe guessed was his grandmother. Sighing, Brendon crossed the room andpulled Ryan into an embrace, holding him tightly and kissing his hair."I'm sorry," he mumbled, not knowing what else he could say, butknowing that there wasn't much that could make things better. He tookRyan's hand and lead him out of the room, taking out his own cellphoneand dialing his chauffeur's number. He told him to be waiting out backin forty-five minutes and then hung up. "I'll make sure to spend everysecond with them, then," he finally said in response to Ryan's advice.Kissing Ryan's cheek, he then lead the way down the hall and to Spencerand Jon's bedroom. Knocking firmly on the door, he looked back at Ryanand smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring way.

The door was opened momentslater by Spencer, who still looked like he was asleep. He blinkedblearily at them and frowned. "What's wrong?" he slurred, moving out ofthe doorway to let them in. Brendon tugged Ryan in with him, smiling atSpencer.

"Ryan has to leave to go to afuneral," he explained, placing his arm around his boyfriend's waist."So, he's come to say goodbye..." he trailed off, biting his lip, andtook a deep breath. He really didn't want Ryan to leave. To help gethis mind off of it, he turned to see Jon sprawled on his bed, still indeep sleep, and smirked. "And I thought it would be fun to wake Jon,"he snickered before extracting himself from Ryan's side and walkingtowards Jon, crouching at his side. Licking his finger, he slowly stuckit into Jon's ear, laughing loudly when the boy shrieked and jerkedaway, peeling his eyes open as quickly as he could.

"What the fuck!" heexclaimed, his voice still thick with sleep. He looked at Brendon, whowas still laughing, to Spencer who looked sleepily amused, and then toRyan, who was carrying a big bag. Groaning, he fell back onto the bedand shoved a pillow on top of his head. "Go 'way," he muttered.

Ryan couldn't help but let outa small laugh even as he held onto the remembered sadness. He'd alwaysavoided thinking about it because if he did for too long he'd end upbawling, but at the moment it was his best shot at seeming genuine."Hey, JonJon," he muttered, smiling slightly even as he knew it didn'treach his eyes. "I'm going to England for a bit. Have fun, and takecare of Brendon for me, all right?" He didn't expect anything but theinitial grunt in response, so he turned around to face Spencer. "Reallysorry to be waking you so early on a Saturday," he stated. "But yeah, Iwanted to say bye."

"It's okay," Spencer assured,then moved to pull Ryan into a hug. Brendon watched them, smiling.Spencer had always been good at giving hugs. It was his speciality,really, and they always made people feel better. Spencer rubbed Ryan'sback, then pulled away, placing his hands on Ryan's arms. "Sorry foryour loss," he said sincerely, smiling sadly. He looked back at Brendonand went to sit on Jon's bed. "Get up, you lazy boy," he demanded,smacking Jon's arm and pulling the pillow away from his face. Jongroaned and huffed, but managed to open his eyes and keep them open.

"Goodbye, Ryan," he muttered,waving him off. "Sorry 'bout your loss," he added, though he did soundsincere about it, despite the tired and annoyed tone of voice. Brendongrinned widely.

Once again, suppressing alaugh was a little hard, so he let out a snigger before taking a deepbreath, moving back to Brendon's side. "Thanks, both of you," heanswered. "I'll see you soon. And do entertain Brendon, right," headded with another slight laugh. He leaned his head on Brendon'sshoulder for a moment, blowing air out through his nose. "We shouldprobably let you get back to sleep now," he declared before picking uphis bag and grabbing Brendon's hand, preparing to pull the younger boyout with him. "Fancy a walk before the car gets here?" he asked. "I'veseen surprisingly little of the grounds even after being here formonths."

Brendon nodded his assent andwaved to Spencer, who was already climbing back into his own bed. Heshut the door behind them nodded. "Walking and holdinghands," he said. "How romantic." They made their way outside andtowards the forest where they had had the bonfire a few months ago.They walked in silence for most of the time, until Brendon couldn'thandle it anymore and spoke in a rush. "I'm really going to miss you,"he mumbled. "Even more than when I left for the castle, because you'regoing to be so much farther and it just... I don't know. It feelsdifferent," he finished lamely, rolling his eyes at himself. "I don'twant to make you feel bad about leaving, I just... well. I've kind ofgrown attached to you," he smirked, though the sentiment didn't reallyreach his eyes at all.

"Yeah, me too," Ryan answered,giving Brendon's hand a slight squeeze. "And I'm really going to missyou too. I'd ask you to come with me, but it would be quite complicatedsince I only have one ticket and your father would probably askquestions." He sighed slightly. "It's going to be a week at most," hestated. "Maybe not even that long. I'll be back before you know it, allright?" He gave a small, encouraging smile and kept walking in silence.It was a comfortable silence, though, and he liked it even better thanhe'd liked the quiet back when he had always liked silences. Hecouldn't really explain it properly, but that was how he felt.

They walked back towards theschool in time to see Brendon's limo pull up. The chauffeur came outand opened a door for them, taking Ryan's bag to put it in the trunk.Brendon sat, turning the TV to its usual channel, mostly out of habit,and squeezed Ryan's hand, acutely aware that it would be his last timefeeling that skin in a week. But everything would be fine.

***

Ryan stepped out of the plane,still incredibly groggy from the nap he'd caught on the last few hoursof travel. He didn't follow the throng of people to passage claim. Hehad his carry-on bag, and that was all the luggage he'd actuallybrought. The Ryan Hastings clothes he'd swapped for a suit in Heathrowwere in there, as was a bit of food, his laptop and phone. He didn'treally see himself needing anything more than that, especially since heexpected he'd get to sleep in his own apartment for a few nights, wearhis own clothes, eat his own favorite foods. It felt incredibly weirdto be Ryan Ross again, almost as though the skin didn't quite fitanymore. He pushed the observation away and headed towards thereception area with long steps.

He had only made it a few feetinto the reception area when an equally dark-suited body was runningup, and suddenly he was being squeezed and lifted and practically swungaround, letting out a small squeak as he felt his eyes grow wide."Tobe!" he shrieked. "Put me the hell down!" And what do you know?Dropping the English accent even felt weird.

"But Ryro, I just missed you somuch," the slightly older man whined. "My laundry isn't done and ourdishwasher's broken, and I was so bored." He finallyput Ryan down, leaving only an arm slung casually over his shoulder.Yeah, Tobias had never been more like the annoying older brother thanhe was now.

"Yeah, trust you to let me comehome to a minor disaster," Ryan grumbled, glaring slightly before helooked farther into the hall where two other suits were standing, onewith a frown on his face and the other clearly amused. Well, hesupposed this wasn't really how union agents were expected to conductthemselves. He went over there, smiling slightly. "Davies, Richie," hegreeted. "Good to see you again."

"And you," Davies respondedwhile Richie grunted out something that may or may not have been areply. "Come on," he added. "There's a car waiting for us outside."

Ryan nodded and followed themwithout another word, although he did exchange a few more grins androlled eyes with his best friend.

***

"So to the best of yourknowledge, these documents were genuine?" the director asked, a sadtone in his voice. Well, Ryan supposed that his boss was really only anasshole sometimes. At least he had a heart, unlike the generals andadmirals in the room who had smirks and looks ranging from eager tosatisfied on their faces. His father would probably look about thesame. Ryan never had understood why so many military officers seemed tohave that ingrained blood thirst

"Yes," Ryan answeredconfidently. "The Prince had come back from a council meeting justhours previous, and the papers were hidden, although not too well. Theemblem didn't look copied either, so I see no reason to believe it wasa forgery." Not least because he couldn't see any reason at all why itshould be. Brendon wouldn't have fake war declarations lying about hisroom.

"The last paragraphs on thesecond page are impossible to read what with the picture quality,"someone stated, looking sharply at Ryan. "Could you by any chance relaywhat it said?" And just as Ryan had thought he would be, he was able toquote the section word for word, managing to keep his voice emotionlessand businesslike even though it had never wanted so badly to tremble.

A few minutes later a break wascalled, and Ryan was grateful to make his way to the fire escape andbreathe in the cool, dirty air of the New York evening, hoping to calmhimself down a little. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, andsuddenly all he could see was Brendon's face, and all he could feel wasnagging guilt and a bone deep worry. There was no doubt DURA would makea pre-emptive strike. War would be brought to Beauregia before theycould bring it here, and Brendon would be right smack dab in the middleof it all. And fuck, he was just a kid, and there was Spencer and Jonto think about as well, and- Ryan calmed himself down, regulating hisbreathing until his heartbeat steadied out. He would be better offdoing what he'd always done: take the orders from his superiors, followthem, and put his country ahead of everything else.

That conclusion didn't make himfeel any better, though, and he found himself with frustrated tearswelling up in his eyes. And, barely thinking before acting, he fishedhis cell phone out of his pocket and dialled a number he'd known byheart for as long as he could remember.

"Hello," the voice on the otherend of the phone greeted. "Lauren Ross speaking." Ryan just took deepshuddering breaths and couldn't find it in himself to answer just yet."Hello? Is anyone there?"

"Mom, yeah," Ryan answered when he thought he'd finally gotten his voice under control. "It's me, Ryan."

"Ryan, sweetheart!" his motherresponded, and he could practically see her face lighting up just fromthe tone in her voice. "It's been so long. How are you, dear?"

"I'm just... I-" Ryan stoppedand took another deep breath, his control of his voice slipping again.He was seconds away from bursting out in sobs and he couldn't evenproperly explain why. "I just m-missed you," he finally managed."Wanted to hear your voice."

"I missed you too, baby boy,"his mother answered, and Ryan knew that she was well aware that onlyhis will was holding back a breakdown right at the moment. "So much,"she added. "Did something happen with your assignment?"

"You could say that," Ryanmuttered, sniffling slightly. "I'm too deep in it," he added, and hecould hear the self-deprecation in his own voice, which meant hismother most definitely could as well. "In the academy they don't teachus that there are real people involved, that real people get hurt," headded, and he knew she would understand.

A cooing sound responded, andRyan knew that if he were in her house right now, in her living room,she would have pulled his head down to rest on her lap, and her longfingers would be running through his hair while she murmured a lot ofthings that didn't necessarily make sense but made him feel betteranyway. She hadn't done that since he was thirteen and had angrily toldher that he was too old to be cuddled by his mom. "Ryan, my dear, dearboy," she whispered, yet he heard her voice clearly enough. "You'vealways loved rules and principles and our country, everything it'sbuilt on." She sighed slightly. "But I think you're finally learningthat rules and principles and countries, no matter how great and goodand well-meaning, can't love you back."

However crazy it sounded, healmost felt something inside himself click into place with her words. Afew tears finally slipped out from under his closed lids. The puzzlewas making sense. He didn't necessarily like it, but he wasn't going tolie anymore. At least not to himself. "Thanks, Mom," he muttered,taking a shuddering breath. "I'll talk to you later." And then he hungup and let himself slide down the cement wall until he was seated onthe patterned steel of the staircase. He knew what he was going to do,at long last. But that didn't mean it would be easy.

***

He made a detour to therestroom on his way back to the meeting room, splashing cold water onhis face until he thought his eyes looked less red and his face wasn'tsplotched enough that it was visible. He took his chair, sliding inclose to the table and fixed his eyes on the papers in front of him. "Iwant to go back," he said over the discussion. The loud, arguing, inmany cases enthusiastic voices kept on. "I want to go back," herepeated, a lot louder now.

Silence fell.

His director was looking at himsharply, and maybe the man really was a complete asshole all the time."Negative, Ross," he stated without a second thought. "In a week itwill be an open war zone. You're a field agent, not a soldier. We workwith Intel, not wars. I don't want one of my agents in the middle ofit."

"I know you must be planning totake the school," Ryan stated, keeping his voice calm. "The sons of themost important people in Beauregia all gathered at one place. It makesfor better leverage than anything else could. But you don't know theschool or the teachers and students like I do. You don't know whichones were raised military and a fanatic enough to shoot down an armyand die themselves before they let themselves be taken. And you won'tknow how to speak to them. They know me, or theythink they do. In this case, it's just as good. To them I might just bethe strange new kid from England, but they're still a lot more likelyto listen to me than to enemy soldiers. And ending up making a schoolinto a slaughterhouse will not look pretty to our allies." He grippedhis own knee hard under the table, forcing his voice to stay calm andrational. Otherwise they'd never agree. "Let me stay and help securethe school. I don't think any of us want to kill children in theirsleep."

The UBI director opened hismouth to speak, and the look on his face clearly stated that the answerwould still not be what Ryan wanted. A general managed to speak first."Agent Ross, do you know who Jacob and Janice Walker are?" he asked.

"Obviously," Ryan answered witha tilted eyebrow. "The leader of the Beauregian resistance and his wifewho doubles as second in command. Everyone with a clearance level overfour knows that."

The general nodded. "Their songoes to this school," he stated. "A Jonathan Walker. Now, we reallyneed their cooperation in this war. They know the country and the weakand strong points in ways we could never hope, and with their help wehope the conflict will last no longer than a few months. And if thepolitical climate is still too tense for a re-absorption of Beauregiainto the DURA after the war, we hope to instate Jacob Walker as theirpresident. Obviously, having a special agent in the school specificallyto protect his son should, we hope, install a certain gratefulness thatcould further our cooperation with them."

Ryan knew his jaw was hangingopen, but he didn't have the presence of mind to pick it up. The shockwas still coursing through his veins, and he absolutely couldn'tbelieve what they were saying. Jon was the son of the rebel leaders?Jon, who was one of the Prince's best friends, who'd gone to the palacewithout trouble and had never spoken up about any objections to how hiscountry was being run. Well, no wonder the boy hardly ever spoke a wordabout his past.

Director Winter sighed loudly,making sure everyone in the room knew he was fully against what washappening. Yet, it didn't seem he had any choice but to grit out a, "Goback to Beauregia then, Ross. Protect the Walker boy at all costs, butby God, try not to get yourself killed out there."

***

In the plane he looked all thepapers over, and thought over the measures that had been taken longago, when he first went to Beauregia, that were to help him be safe ifhe needed to make a run for it. He went it over in his mind again andagain. He had until Friday. The attack would start Saturday morning.Four days left of normality now that the president had given his goahead. By the time the plane touched down in Jackson, a solid plan wasformulated in his mind.

***

The four days that followedfelt anything but normal to Ryan. They were goingthrough the last classes and studying before it would be time forexams, but if studying had felt pointless before, it felt imbecilicnow. How could anyone be studying when war was four, three, two, onedays away? Of course no one else knew, so that probably went a long wayto explain it. But even though they didn't know, Ryan did, and it hadhim suddenly looking at everything a whole other way. He knew Brendonwould probably understand the feeling, but he knew just as well that hecouldn't speak a word about it. Several times he had to suppress theurge to tie the younger boy up and toss him on a plane that would takehim far, far away. But again, he couldn't act any different than he hadbefore, and if he started telling Brendon to get away, well, that woulddefinitely get back to the king and everything would be ruined.

At least the 'death of hisgrandmother' went a long way to explain his absent-mindedness. If heacted weird or overly melancholy, one of the other boys would actuallymouth 'grandmother' to the others as a reminder not to tease him. Itwas beyond weird.

He had felt tempted to go downto the designated place and check out if his gear was in order, ifeverything was as he'd requested before first coming here, if it wasthere, but he couldn't act suspicious, and so he couldn't really gowandering the grounds alone and dig up military gear. He'd just have totrust that the other agents in Beauregia, now probably being slowlypulled out, had properly done the job they'd been asked to.

The plan was coming togethernicely, and even coincidences seemed to be in his favor. Friday nightBrendon was studying with Jon and Spencer in their room. Ryan hadbegged off, and the others had looked at him with sympathetic,understanding eyes. He was left to his own devices. And those hadincluded the pack of sleeping pills he'd managed to smuggle with himfrom the drug store in Heathrow. He'd spent most of the week sucking upto Brendon's bodyguards a little so that they wouldn't be suspicious,and this evening when he went to Brendon's room with the pot of heavilydrugged coffee, they didn't seem to catch onto anything at all. Theythanked him with reserved smiles and set back about what they weredoing, Zach apparently reading some book or another whilewhat's-his-face went back to writing his report after both of them hadpoured large mugs. The cell phone on the table was what Brendon wouldimmediately call if he was in trouble and needed help, the onlycondition for his going to another room without either of them, andRyan could only hope that they wouldn't think to call the Prince oncethey started feeling sleepy.

He went back to his room andwaited twenty minutes, changing into his most durable-looking pair ofslacks and simple sandals to change out of later. And then he wentback, letting out a relieved breath at the sight of both bodyguardspassed out, Zach on the couch and the new one over the table. Ryanpulled out Brendon's rucksack and threw in a blanket, proper shoes, ajacket, a few changes of clothes and his candy stash and swung it overhis shoulder. Then he went down the hall and knocked on the door.

***

Brendon had been ecstatic tosee Ryan come back so soon, though saddened to see the boy sodistanced. He hated that Ryan was in pain, though he forced himself togive the boy as much room as he wanted. Which included tonight. Insteadof following Ryan, he had somehow managed to stay with Spencer and Jon,studying for their coming exams. When someone knocked on the door,though, he leapt up from his seat andraced to answer it. He could recognize Ryan's knock by now, that wasfor sure. Swinging the door open, he grinned at the boy on the otherside and pulled him into a hug. "Hey, you."

Ryan forced a smile andreturned the hug, leaning in to place a peck on Brendon's lips. "I hopenone of you had any pressing plans for the weekend," he stated, pushingthe bag into Brendon's arms. "Because we're going camping. No cellphones, no technology, but pack some clothes and blankets and we'll beoff. I already asked the principal, he said it's okay, and Zach and hisfriend have gone ahead. They'll meet us a couple of miles out." Hegrinned at their flabbergasted looks. "Come on, get a move on."

"Uh..." Brendonfrowned, shaking his head. Camping? They were... Ryan hadn't beenfeeling very well for days, and now they were going camping? Rightbefore exams? "I'm sorry, what? Camping--"

"Youknow we have exams, right, Ryan?" Spencer asked, coming up to standnear the couple. Jon joined them, arms folded across his chest andlooking highly suspicious. "This really isn't the best time. I knowyou've been through a horrible thing, but-- well, I just don't thinkthis is the answer," Spencer shook his head and blew out a breath,looking over at Brendon, who still looked confused.

"Nota good idea, Ryan. I would... I would have had to check with my fatherand get his consent first. If he finds out about this--!" Brendoncaught himself off when his voice went slightly more high pitched thanwas normal. He shook his head firmly. "What the hell is going on?" hefinally asked after taking a few deep breaths to calm himself.

And this was apparently whenthings were going to start working against him. Ryan took a deepbreath, biting down on his lip. He needed to convince them, butcouldn't tell them anything. The situation was much too precarious. Hecould burst out crying, but that would just convince them even morethat they needed to stay. He needed an ally. He took a deep breath andlooked up, catching Jon's eyes. The suspicion was back, and the otherboy was going to catch onto him this time, he knew it. He also knew Jonwell enough that he'd respect being told more than having to figure itout. "Jon," he muttered. "I really think your parents want you to gocamping."

Brendon and Spencer bothturned to look at Jon, wearing matching confused looks. For his part,Jon let his mouth drop open and his arms fall to his sides. "Fuck!" hefinally said, shaking his head and throwing his hands up into the air.He stomped towards his closet and took out a duffel bag, starting tofill it with clothes, all the while mumbling under his breath, thingslike, "fifteen goddamn years, and now they decide to..." and "can'teven call me or anything..."

Meanwhile, a bewilderedSpencer was looking back at Ryan. "Excuse me? What is going on?Brendon? I am not leaving until I know... first of all, how do you knowJon's parents? Second of all..." he trailed off, clenching his fistsand forcing himself to calm down. He looked back at Jon, then at Ryan,and finally made his way to his dresser, taking out clothes and pilingit up with Jon's inside the duffel bag. "If I'm trusting you andsomething happens, Jon, I swear I will kill you," he whispered, theangry glint in his eyes making Jon flinch. He nodded jerkily.

Brendon had a bad feelingabout this. He looked over at Ryan, his expression guarded. "I don'twant you to talk to me until you're ready to tell me what's going on,"he said softly, then pushed his way past the boy to make his way to hisroom. First a declaration of war, and now he was going to miss hisexams! Fate really did hate him.

"Brendon!" Ryan called, feelingpanic well up in him. "Come back and I'll explain," he added, dartingafter the younger boy and putting a hand on his shoulder, leaning inclose enough not to be overheard. He hated that he'd be spewing morelies, now that he almost didn't have to anymore, but he didn't have achoice. "Jon's parents worked against the slavery. They were banishedwhen Jon was little and migrated to England. They've been acquaintancesof my father all along, but I had no idea about the connection before Iwent home, and when I realised it I immediately went to talk to them."He took a deep breath. "They want to meet him, Brendon, and it's beenso bloody long. Can you imagine not seeing your parents for fourteenyears? They obviously can't meet out in the open, but if we go campingwith him, no one will know a thing. They didn't do anything reallywrong, they just freed a couple of slaves and their family was tornapart, and just... they aren't going to hurt us. Do Jon this onefavour, please?"

Brendon listened to Ryan'sexplanation closely, trying to decipher if the boy was lying to him ornot. He didn't want Ryan to lie to him, that was the last thing hewould ever want, but he had to consider it. The man inside him who hadgrown up doubting people at every turn was rearing his ugly head, andBrendon couldn't help but listen. Keeping his expression guarded, heturned towards Ryan, looking him in the eye for several seconds beforenodding once. Clenching his teeth to keep himself from sayingsomething, he walked back to Spencer and Jon's room, completelycomposed. The doubt he felt, that cynical man he really was inside, waskeeping him from turning to Ryan and throwing his arms around the boy,though a big part of Brendon wanted to very much. But this was aboutsaving himself, his feelings, and he couldn't do anything to jeopardizethat right now. He was glad, at least, that he'd thought to bring hiscellphone with him. Sighing, he gathered up a few papers so that hecould still study. This wasn't about to keep him from passing andgetting out of high school. What he was doing was illegal, and anythingto keep his mind off of that was a good thing.

"Ready," Jon finally said, looking up at Ryan. Spencer nodded from his place beside him and waited for what they should do next.

Ryan nodded and sucked in adeep breath before setting off towards the back door, simply walking insilence and listening to the other three sets of footfalls to make surethey were all still following him. Once they were down the stairs hepicked a small GPS up from his pocket and typed in buriedtreasure, only just refraining from rolling his eyes at howcliche that was. Then it was all about following the instructions onthe screen, which led them to a tree a good piece of way into thegrounds. He squatted down when he figured he was at the correct spot,and started digging at the ground with his bare hands. Just a fewinches down his fingers bumped into something solid, and he keptworking until he'd removed enough dirt to get a proper grip and haul upthe airtight trunk. He automatically typed in the code on the smallscreen at the front, and it flopped open, revealing a plastic bag and arather large military issue rucksack. He picked up the plastic bagfirst and put his hands inside, feeling around. It wasn't quite time toreveal the contents to the others yet. He pulled out solid hikingboots, and then his fingers found the familiar handle of his .56. Itwas incredible how reassuring it was to feel it in his hand again. Hefelt around a little more and found the two clips. There'd be more inthe rucksack. Next came the jacket, bureau standard issue, but withoutthe giveaway three letters on the back, making it look like just anordinary wind breaker. He found a side pocket and slipped the gun andextra clips inside before zipping it up and pulling it out. He quicklypulled it on along with the boots, leaving his sandals on the ground.Then, with difficulty, he pulled on the rucksack and picked up theplastic bag. Revealing a bulletproof vest probably wasn't in his bestinterest at the moment. He took another deep breath and tossed hiscellphone and GPS into the trunk before slamming it shut and turning tothe others. "We're going," he stated, and started to walk.

Jon immediately set off afterRyan, which only worried Brendon more than if the boy had beensuspicious and mean. He started when he felt someone take his hand, butsoon realized that it was just Spencer and he shot a strained smile athis best friend. They walked in silence for some time, Jon walkingright next to Ryan and the two others a few feet back, until Brendonthought the silence would suffocate him. "I want to know what the hellis going on," he whispered to Spencer, breathing hard and fast,sounding like he was on the verge of hyperventilating. He closed hiseyes briefly, letting Spencer lead him along, and shook his head. "Ican't fucking handle this," he added just as softly. He looked over atSpencer, who was biting his lip and staring ahead at Jon.

"I don't think Jon would bringus into a situation that would hurt us," he finally said decisively."Breathe, Bren. We've known Jon how long now? Do you really think..."he trailed off. He didn't want to think about what was going on. He wasstarting to have doubts, which wasn't good, and he was so angry at Jonfor millions of different reasons. For not telling them what was goingon, for not telling them who his parents were... Spencer had alwaysbelieved Jon to be his closest friend. He had Brendon, of course, buthe'd always spent more time with Jon during his high school years,which had made them very close. Spencer could read all of Jon's moods,and sometimes even guess what he was thinking. And right now, hecouldn't figure out any of it, and it was kind of scaring him. Jon justwasn't Jon right now.

Ryan was not at all obliviousto the low voices speaking behind him, but for now there was no choicebut to ignore them. He looked down at his watch, squinting to seeproperly in the dark. An hour. He just had to keep them following foran hour. Even as little as forty minutes might work. No matter howquickly they managed to call someone with information there was no waya whole country could be steeled to defend itself from massive attackin twenty minutes. He glanced at Jon out of the corner of his eye andmade sure to keep his voice very low, very soft. The others couldn'toverhear. "I think you might have figured out the greater part ofwhat's going on," he murmured, not even looking at the younger man."And I want you to know that what's happening right now is for your ownsafety, all three of you. And they've known you longer, trust you more.If they stop, I'll need you to help me keep them walking." He took adeep breath. They hardly needed to defend themselves from any outsideforces yet, but he preferred to know what he had to work with inadvance. "Do you have any kind of training?" He knew his accent hadslipped, but after what had already happened this night he didn'treally think Jon would be that surprised.

Jon sighed, looking back atSpencer and Brendon for a moment before turning back. "I have an idea,but I sure as hell hope I'm wrong," he muttered, tilting his head backslightly to peer up at the sky, make it look like he wasn't talking. Hedidn't want Brendon and Spencer more uncomfortable than they alreadywere. "I taught myself everything I need to know about this country,and I've seen enough of my parents' papers to know what they wantedchanged... My grandfather taught me direct combat; one on one shit, andI know how to use a gun. I don't actually have any real training,though, like I'm sure you do," he sighed and shook his head, couldn'tbelieve that his suspicion had been right all along. He might not haveknown prior exactly what Ryan had been up to, but it was nice to knowthat he hadn't been completely crazy for suspecting something. "If I'meven half right about what's going on here, though, dude, I can tellyou right now that Brendon isn't going to forgive you, even if you didcome back," he added, shrugging apologetically.

Something felt like it wasreaching inside Ryan's stomach and scrunching his guts togetherpainfully, and he squeezed his eyes shut tight for a moment, walkingfor what felt like a long while in silence. He could lie, say that itmeant nothing to him, but he was done with lying now, and what would ithelp to pretend he didn't have feelings for Brendon? Absolutelynothing. "I know he's not," he finally stated, allowing the emotion toshine through his voice even as he still kept it soft enough so as tobe inaudible from the distance Spencer and Brendon were at. "I don'texpect him to, and I didn't come back to make him." He sucked inanother deep breath, could hardly believe how much it hurt to admitthese things. "But that doesn't mean I can't protect him." He letsilence fall for another while before he'd gathered his mind enough tothink about the other parts of their conversation. "Once they knowwhat's going on, I'll give you one of the extra guns. I hope I cantrust you not to shoot me in the back, because you're right, I amhighly trained, and right now I think I'm your best shot at survivingwithout becoming a pawn in some political game, which would basicallymake you all prisoners."

Jon nodded slowly, taking adeep breath. He hadn't held a gun since last summer before coming backto school, but he had practised with his grandfather's various modelsfor quite a long time. It was always like riding a bike, handling thoseguns; he could not hold one for a very long time, but getting back intoit was easy. "For what it's worth, if you really are here to protectus, I won't shoot you in the back," he smirked bitterly. "And I kind ofhope he forgives you someday. If you really are here to protect us,that is..." he trailed off, glancing back at Spencer again. "And Ireally hope we're getting to wherever we're going sometime soon," hemuttered.

"We had sex," Brendon blurtedout, extra quietly. Spencer snapped his head up to look at his bestfriend, eye wide and mouth gaping. "I know. And now he's all..."Brendon made a frustrated sound and ran his free hand through his darklocks. "I really don't want to regret it," he finally said. Spencerthought it best to remain silent, simply squeezing Brendon's hand forsupport.

"Do we have food?" Jon askedquite loudly, followed quickly by his stomach grumbling. He heard asnicker from somewhere behind him and smiled, recognizing Spencer'slaugh. He looked up at Ryan. "Seriously, though."

Ryan mentally went through thecontents on the rucksack, trying to figure out what was where. The foodwas among the heavier things, and those you usually had time to pullout before needing. Which meant it was in the bottom. Which in turnmeant that he'd have to get through guns and clips and hand grenades."How about an energy bar?" he asked, reaching into the pocket in thebroad strap that went over his waist to keep most of the weight of theheavy bag on his hips. He took out four, tossed one to Jon and turnedaround, waiting for Brendon and Spencer to catch up before offering tothem as well, looking at his watch once again. Half an hour till theattack. Hopefully they wouldn't find out yet, but he didn't think itwould really ruin anything if they did. Best not push his luck, though.

Brendon contemplated throwinghis own energy bar over his shoulder, just to spite Ryan, but in theend he simply gave it over to Jon, who seemed to be famished. Like hehadn't eaten a huge dinner. Which he most certainly had. He watched asSpencer munched on the energy bar, and he could see that the boy wastrying not to spit it out or make a face. Chuckling softly, Brendonshook his head and sighed. "Are we almost fucking... wherever?" heasked impatiently, looking around for any sign of a clearing, anything."Because, no offense, but this is getting really boring," he addedpetulantly, mostly just wanting to annoy Ryan at this point. He feltchildish, but he was sick of everything right now and he kind of wantedto go back to school, and he was hoping to God that his father wouldn'tfind out about this little escapade, and if he did, he really hopedthat his mother wouldn't be concerned.

Glancing at his watch again,Ryan finished chewing the bite he had in his mouth. It wasn'tparticularly tasty, but he was used to the bars. He'd grown up with afather who'd thought they were perfect snacks for small boys after all."No," he finally answered, letting the accent drop. He carefullyavoided looking at Brendon. "That's going to take one hell of a whilemore." He reached into the plastic bag and drew out the last two piecesof content. Then he handed the extra gun to Jon and tossed Brendon thebulletproof vest. He drew in a deep breath. "In..." He looked at hiswatch again. "Twenty-one minutes Beauregia will be attacked by anoverwhelming force. A lot of the fighting will be focused onMississippi, so we're going to get to Arkansas as quickly as we can."He sighed slightly. "No, I'm not on your side, but I am trying to keep your asses out of the line of fireand political games. And if you'd prefer not to call me Ryan anymore,last name's Ross."

Brendon watched Jon catch thegun, completely missing the bulletproof vest that was meant for him,and quickly dropped Spencer's hand. When Ryan had finished talking, heonly had time to turn around before he doubled over and threw up hisdinner into the grass at his feet. He felt Spencer's hand on his back,rubbing small circles, and he shook his head, vomiting-induced tearsstreaking down his face as he pulled himself upright and swayed a bit.Wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt, he shook his head andcoughed rather violently, his throat stinging. Right, well, obviouslythis was some kind of sick joke. Maybe his father was testing him.Yeah, that was exactly what was going on. He was being tested to seehow he would handle an extreme situation, his father had planned thisall out, he was behind everything, they weren't declaring war, and theyweren't being attacked. "Oh, my God," he shook his head and laughed outloud. "This is really not funny anymore, so, come on, just drop it,right? I obviously failed. I failed!" he yelled, throwing his arms upinto the air. Fuck, Ryan had seen those papers.

Spencer, now holding thebulletproof vest, was taking a few moments to process what was beingsaid, but when Brendon yelled, he inhaled sharply and narrowed hiseyes. "You tell me everything right now, Jonathan Walker!" hescreeched, looming menacingly, though Jon was far from shorter. Theother boy recoiled, though, and shot a desperate look at Ryan. "Both ofyou!" Spencer demanded. "Pretending to care for people when you don't;lying. I can't believe you," he said, addressing both Ryan and Jon,though he kept his gaze firmly locked on his roommate. Jon, in one ofhis better moves, decided to keep his mouth shut.

"Jon has never lied to you,"Ryan muttered, still not looking at the others. "He just held somethings back to protect himself." His hands were twitching and his heartseemed to have relocated to his throat. He wanted badly to go andcomfort Brendon, but he knew there was no way in hell that was going tohappen. He didn't say anything about himself. Starting to protest thathe genuinely cared about them and that he was quite likely in love withBrendon wasn't going to help any. It was far from the right time. Hesucked in a shuddering breath. "It's not a test, it's not a joke." Hebit his lip and reached into the pocket of his jacket that didn't holdhis gun, pulling out the UBI badge and handing it to Spencer. "I'msorry," he stated softly. "You have no idea how sorry I am, but we needto get going."

Spencer shook his head andlooked down at the badge, though he chose not to touch it. Withoutanother glance at Ryan or Jon, he went back to Brendon. He whispered tothe boy a bit, trying to make him feel better, and actually got him toput on the vest. Brendon wiped his face, still coughing a bit, and tookSpencer's hand again, holding it like a lifeline. "My dad is going tofucking kill me, if I don't just get killed by this war first. Which isgood, I guess. I'd have been a shitty fucking king," Brendon mutteredto Spencer, who immediately told him not to say such things. Theywalked together towards Ryan and Jon. "Well?" Brendon finally said,looking down at his feet. Ryan hadn't defended himself, hadn't saidthat he did really care for Brendon, that this was just something hehad to do. And now Brendon couldn't even believe that he'd ever fuckingliked the guy. It was laughable, really. "I hope you had a fun timesnooping around in my room," he said, clenching his teeth, his eyesflashing angrily. "I hope you had a laugh, I hope it was funny for you.I really do." He tightened his hold on Spencer's hand, drawing a smallwhimper, but he wasn't really paying attention to that.

It was probably the least funnything Ryan had ever had to do, and he clenched his teeth, breathingthrough his nose for a moment as he fought the urge to break down. Youdidn't grow up with Ryan's father without learning how to keep backemotional outbreaks. He pocketed his badge. "You'd have been a betterking than your father is," he stated quietly. "And I don't think I haveever despised myself more than I did when doing that." He took a deepbreath, hoping to clear his head a bit. "We each have our roles in thiswhole thing, and I don't like betrayal more than the next person." Andyet he was doing it again. His orders were to protect Jon, within theschool. Not to steal away political leverage and spread his attentionout over three boys. He was heading home to prison most likely, he knewthat, but if the other three were safe, that would be worth it. He'ddetermined that already when he'd thought out the plan. "Brendon," hestarted with a sigh, glancing up for a moment before averting his gazeagain. Looking at the younger boy was just too painful right then. "Nowis not the time," he finished. "We really need to get moving."

Brendon chuckled bitterly."Can anyone tell me why the hell I should do anything you say? Whyshould I even believe you? You've already lied, and you're obviouslyone hell of an actor if you could pretend to like me. So why should I?"he asked, tilting his head to the side and peering at Ryan expectantly.It was Jon, though, who spoke up.

"Do what he says, Brendon,"he said quietly, firmly, and caught Spencer's eye. "I know it's hardright now, but for the sake of your life, and Spencer's life, would youplease just do what Ryan says?" he sighed and shook his head, the gunin his hand suddenly feeling heavier than it had before. Best put thataway, he thought, and stuffed it into his pocket. "You can hate Ryanall you want, hell, I'd encourage you to fucking hate him all you can,because what he did was fucking shitty; but don't question anythingright now, and do as you're told. I'm sure you have a lot of experiencewith that in your life, which I admit isn't the best thing, but you canuse it to your advantage right now." He tightened his mouth into a thinline and shrugged.

Spencer, who'd been staringat Jon, nodded and tugged on Brendon's hand. "C'mon, Brendon," hewhispered, and pulled the other boy along with him.

Seeing that the others hadfinally started moving, Ryan did as well, putting one foot ahead of theother even as he tried to keep his thoughts in the here and now. Nomatter how painful that was. The rucksack was too heavy for him,really, but he needed all the things in it and he wasn't sure how muchhe could afford distributing into the others' luggage yet. It was odd,not being able to trust them anymore, but it was stranger for himself.It was nights like these when he really fucking wished he'd just stayedin law school. Although, if he had, it would've been someone else here,someone else who might have been doing the same things with Brendonthat he had, someone else who might not have been willing, now, to giveup his own freedom to keep these three safe. No, things had worked outfor the best. Painful, maybe, but the best. He turned to cast a shortglance at Brendon and Spencer over his shoulder. "That part, caringabout you, was the easiest," he stated truthfully, "since I neveractually had to pretend. I can see why it's hard for the both of you,though." He paused and glanced quickly at Jon. "Hell, all three of youprobably. But I'm not lying anymore. Ask any question and I promise toanswer truthfully."

There were many questions thatBrendon wanted to ask, all of them whizzing around his head,threatening to spill from his lips without his consent. He clamped hismouth shut, though, and shook his head. Asking any questions would berevealing that he actually cared, and though he had probably alreadyshown that, he didn't want to make it worse for himself. "How long willwe be walking?" he finally settled for something that he did want toknow, but didn't seem very important right now. "Also, why did you giveJon a gun? Isn't that a little dangerous? He's like a toddler, forgoodness sake." He shot Jon a small smile to show he was kidding, andgot a grimace from Jon in return.

"We have around eighty milestill we hit Arkansas," Ryan stated. "Then we're crossing through toMissouri, which is nearly two hundred miles. How long we'll be walkingdepends on how many things get in our way, whether and when we cansteal a car and whether we'll have to sometimes lay low for a while.Not to mention how quickly you three can walk. Ten days if you keep upincredibly well and nothing gets in the way, quicker if we get a car,or much longer if you tire easily and we have to lay low." He sighedslightly. "And I trust that Jon knows what he's doing, whereas I doubtyou or Spencer have held a gun before. If we run into trouble twopeople armed is better than one."

"Glad to know we didn't reallyhave any clue who Jon was," Spencer muttered sarcastically, his voicebitter. He and Brendon walked in silence for a long time before heturned to look at his friend. "Do you have any idea why DURA wouldsuddenly be attacking, Brendon? Does it have anything to do with thoseconferences you attended?" he asked worriedly, the fact that Brendonand Ryan had slept together right after Brendon had come back from aconference suddenly clicking. He heard Brendon sigh loudly beside himand bit his lip, only slightly regretting the question.

"I think it has something to dowith the conferences, but I'm not sure," Brendon hesitated, butanswered as truthfully as he could. "Part of me still doesn't want tobelieve what my mind is telling me," he admitted, chuckling bitterly.It was pathetic, really. The papers had been in the room, on his desk,and though they were somewhat hidden, Ryan could have found them.Brendon had slept like a log that night, Ryan could have been awake thewhole time for all he knew. And he had only himself to blame, really,for the fact that Ryan had gotten his hands on the papers. It was hisfault for trusting someone he barely even knew.

There was a sudden sound in thedistance, which Ryan's trained ears picked up on immediately. He lookedup at the sky and it was only a minute before he saw the source. Aroundtwenty choppers were flying past perhaps half a mile to the right, anda moment later too many fighter squadrons to properly count werepassing practically straight over their heads and Ryan's heart jumpedin his throat. The engine roars were deafening, the air being thrownagainst them stinging his cheeks. It had really started. After amoment's staring he looked away and resumed walking, ignoring themachines that were no doubt headed for Jackson, perhaps even some ofthe troops in the choppers for the school it seemed they had only justleft behind. A part of him was very grateful that theycouldn't speak over the incessant noise, and he kept walking silentlyeven after they had passed. After several minutes he answered, withoutlooking up, "It has everything to do with the conferences. We werehoping for peace, but if Beauregia wanted war we had no choice but toattack first."

Brendon stopped and turnedaround, tilting his head up to look at the military troops, his stomachclenching almost violently. He slowly started walking again, only halflistening to Ryan. Were they headed towards the castle? The school? Nodoubt their little group would soon be declared as missing, and he hadhalf a mind to call his father and warn him to get himself out. Whatwould happen to his mother? Letting Spencer's hand go, Brendon pressedboth of his hands against his eyes and choked out a sob. "Why should Ibe allowed to go hide?" he asked softly, his breath hitching. He shookhis head. "I want to go back. I want to go to the castle and I want tosee my mother," He took a deep breath and took out his cellphone. "I'mcalling," he warned.

Ryan squeezed his eyes shut,for a moment at a complete loss of what to do. He knew that look onBrendon's face, knew he couldn't be talked out of his decision, howeverstupid. "You don't deserve to be caught up in that," he stated,sighing. "You can't go back, or you'd be jeopardizing Jon and Spenceras well." He breathed out through his nose, watching as the phone wasraised. "You have twenty seconds to tell them what you want to say," hestated. "Longer than that and the call can be traced. After that you'rethrowing it away. A turned on cell phone is the easiest way to gaugeour location." They'd stopped walking but Ryan was still staringstraight ahead. "I'm sorry," he stated again, and he really had no ideahow much he'd end up saying those words over the next long while. Alot, he guessed.

Brendon nodded once and walkedaway from the small group, waiting for the line to pick up. The momenthe heard the voice on the other side, he broke down, though quicklycomposed himself enough to talk. "Mother, I need you to get out of thecastle right this minute and have someone drive you to the airport. Getinto a plane, get out of the country. I don't care where you go, I justneed you to do this now and not ask questions. Bring dad with you, ifyou can, and tell him he's an ignorant asshole-- Wait, no, never mindthat; just please get out of the castle as soon as possible," he took adeep breath, listening to her ask questions, her voice worried andloud, demanding. "I have to hang up now, I... take care," he saidsoftly, then flipped the phone closed and berated himself for endingthe conversation like that. Couldn't even say 'I love you' to his ownmother, especially at a time like this. What was wrong with him? Heslowly turned back and walked closer to Ryan, holding his cellphoneout. It began ringing and he could see his mother's private number onthe display. "Take it," he said firmly, turning his gaze away from theglowing numbers and closing his eyes tightly.

Holding his hand out andgripping the small device, Ryan fought down the urge to grip Brendon'shand or kiss him or hug him or do something else to comfort him. Heknew it wouldn't be in any way comforting at the moment, though, so hemerely took the phone, pressed the off button and threw it as far intothe foliage as he could. "Anyone else brought their cell?" he asked,looking around him at the other two boys. "I'm serious, I'll tell youwhatever you want to know, but anything we can be tracked by iscompletely unacceptable."

Jon shook his head andshrugged, looking back at Spencer, who was taking his phone out of hispocket rather sheepishly. He showed it to Ryan, then threw it in theopposite direction that the boy had thrown Brendon's cell. They resumedwalking, Brendon fighting tears the whole time and trying to swallowaround the tight knot in his throat. "So, who are you, anyway? Apartfrom being Ryan Ross, and all that shit. I'm not sure I completelyunderstand, other than you're part of some organization orsomething..." he croaked out, speaking with difficulty. But Ryan hadsaid he'd answer any questions, and truthfully. "What was I in your...mission?" he asked, scrunching his nose up at the word. It sounded likea bad Bond film.

Ryan took a deep breath anddecided to answer the easiest question first. "George Ryan Ross theThird to be precise," he stated. "George is my dad's name, though, soit really kind of disturbs me to be called by it. I was born and raisedin Massachusetts, only child of a colonel and his wife; military familyall around. I was expected to join up after high school, but I'm notexactly soldier material, so I studied law at Harvard instead. Droppedout before my last year when I was recruited by the UBI. Went to theAcademy. I'm currently the youngest agent they have." He doubted theywanted a detailed autobiography, so the overview would have to do untilanyone asked further. "As to the mission..." He sucked in a deepbreath, fighting the painful coiling in his stomach. What good would itdo to hurt Brendon even more with the state he was already in? But atthe same time he'd promised, and he really didn't want to lie anymore."We needed to know what was going on in the council before going to thepeace conference that probably won't happen now. Leadership consideredyou, as the youngest member, the weakest link. My orders were to findout what was going on by any means necessary." He let out the breathhe'd been holding, carefully not looking that way. "I was sent back tokeep Jon safe during the attack."

Brendon scoffed and shook hishead in disbelief. "Well, you certainly succeeded in using any meansnecessary," he sneered. "I applaud you. I'm sure whoever your superioris, he's very proud." He knew he was grasping at straws, finding anymeans necessary to make Ryan out to be the bad guy. He was the bad guy,of course, but Brendon was starting to understand, at least a bit, thathe had done all of this for his country. Would Brendon have done thesame? He wasn't sure. It still made him sick to think of what Ryan haddone. He hated him, and he didn't see himself forgiving Ryan, ever. Italso scared him that he was perceived as the weakest link. Easily takencare of. Did his country think of him in the same way? Did they thinkhim weak, incapable of taking over after his father? He sighed andshook his head. Well, they didn't have to worry about that any more.

Sighing, Ryan shook his headslightly, trying to clear it. His chest hurt a little, and he reallywasn't sure what to say. "You don't have to help me feel bad," hefinally stated, voice just a little harsh. "I do have a conscience, anddon't ever delude yourself that this was easy." He raised a hand,raking his fingers through his hair. "I'm sorry," he finally stated,for the umpteenth time. "I didn't mean to snap," he relented, stillmaking sure to look away.

Brendon clenched his fists. "Ido have to make you feel bad!" he yelled, stalking right up to Ryan andstaring at him intently. "I want to! I hope you feel as horrible as Ido, you fucking asshole. You're not allowed feeling even a little bithappy, or content, or any other feeling apart from feeling like youshould die," he looked helpless for a second, bringing his hands up toclench in his hair. "You're fucking driving me crazy! You want to knowwhy I don't believe that you truly feel all that bad about this?Because it doesn't fucking show, Ryan. I don't see it; all I see issomeone who's trying his best to be in control of a situation thatcould get us all fucking killed, but I don't think you're sorry at all.You did this because you wanted to, on some level, and you believed inwhat you were doing," he drew in a deep breath and stepped awayslightly. "And if you want to prove me wrong, then you're going to haveto do much more than talking."

Ryan had no idea how torespond, absolutely none. Every word felt like a punch in the gut or aknife stab in the chest. His eyes were swimming, but he forced thetears back. If he started he wasn't going to stop. At the last words abitter laugh bubbled up in his throat and escaped before he could stopit. "What the fucking hell would you have me do then?" he asked, hisvoice as bitter as the laugh, but steady. "I could kiss you, butbesides the fact that three people would immediately punch me in theface, I don't see you believing that either. I could be back in NewYork right now, watching all this shit happen on the news, but I'm not,goddammit. I'm trying to keep you safe, disobeying direct orders tostay on school grounds so you can't be dangled in your parent's facesas a political prisoner, and once I've gotten you out I'm headedstraight for fucking military prison, so what the hell does it matteranyway? What would an eighteen-year-old prince want with atwenty-three-year-old future convict in any case?" He sucked in a deepbreath, pulling his own hair hard to calm down before walking aroundBrendon and stalking on along the paths he'd memorized from variousmaps over the week. "We have quite a bit of distance to cover beforesetting camp at daybreak. Come on!"

He'd seen the tears in Ryan'seyes; how could he have missed them? Oddly enough, though, it didn'tmake him feel any better. In fact, it made him feel worse, made theknot in his throat tighten and expand. He followed Ryan without anotherword, knowing that Spencer and Jon were behind him, whispering to eachother. Well, at least Spencer had forgiven Jon, or so it seemed. Theyhad been friends for a long time, and so it was probably easier toforgive. And Jon hadn't really done anything wrong, just held back someinformation that could potentially be harmful. Brendon sighed andscrubbed a hand over his face. This situation was unreal.

***

The eastern horizon was turninggrey, and Ryan's back was aching from the rucksack when he decided itwould probably be best to stop now, get something to eat and sleepthrough the day before going on when the sun set. "We're stopping," heinformed tonelessly, looking around him. A little off the barely-usedtrack there was a small clearing, and he could hear the drizzle of astream nearby. It would definitely work. He walked over and hoisted offthe rucksack, giving a small sigh of relief when it hit the ground. Hemight be built to be able to easily handle long hikes, but sure as hellnot for the backpacks.

He unbuckled the lightweighttent from the top of it. It was made for one person, but he had theidea that if he used the hunting knife in the bag to cut it up, hewould be able to make some sort of a shelter that could house them all.Next came the sleeping bag, and then he could open the bag. He wincedslightly at the weapons and first aid kit that was the first things tocome into view, and tried to use his back to shield those from sight asmuch as possible to avoid freaking the others out even more. Then hedug under it and pulled up the Trangia and a bottle of methylatedspirit. And then his fingers reached the food. There was enough to lasthim for fourteen days, which meant it should sustain four of them forabout five days, maybe a week if he stretched it. After that they'dhave to find some other way. After a moment he tugged out a few portionbags of rice and a can of some kind of meat stew. It would have to beenough for now. He looked up at the other three. "Jon, could you takeone of the pots from the Trangia and go down to the stream for water,please? Keep the gun with you."

Jon nodded, taking a pot beforeheading off, following the sound of running water. Spencer watched himgo, a sad look on his face, and then shook his head gently. "Anything Ican do?" he asked sullenly, looking down at all the supplies Ryan hadpulled out. One tent. One sleeping bag. He had obviously not beensupposed to be bringing other people along with him. Glancing back,Spencer spotted Brendon a few meters away, sitting cross-legged in thegrass with his head in his hands. As much has he wanted to comfort hisfriend, he didn't think there was much that he could say that wouldmake things right. He sighed heavily and shoved his hands into hispockets before looking back at Ryan. He wanted to feel useful, andhoped Ryan found something for him to do before he went insane.

Ryan glanced up to seeSpencer's expectant look and was about to smile on impulse before heremembered that it probably wasn't the greatest idea. He didn't feellike smiling anyway, but was used to doing it in spite of that. But hedidn't have to anymore and the expression melted off his face before ithad fully formed. "Here," he murmured. "Let me teach you how to putthis together." He did his best not to glance over at Brendon while heopened one of the spirit bottles and poured it into the small containedof the tiny portable stove. Then he stacked the dispenser on top,twisting it to make it secure. "Not so hard, huh?" he muttered, notwaiting for an answer. He reached into a side pocket of the bag andpulled out a lighter and a small container of liquid. "Once Jon getsback, turn it on and set the water to boil. Pour two drops of this init, it cleans the water." He stretched and got back to his feet. "I'mgoing to try to make a shelter out of the tent."

Spencer nodded, sitting downnext to the small stove and looking out the way Jon had left. When theboy came back, he set to work doing what Ryan had told him, chattingwith Jon about nothing in particular; anything to get his mind off ofthe current situation. He avoided looking back at Brendon; they bothdid.

Grabbing the tent from where hehad discarded it on the ground, Ryan threw the thing a few feet fartheraway before bending down to close his rucksack, hiding the dangerouscontents after he'd taken out the knife. Then he walked to where thetent had landed, opened the holster and pulling the tent and sticksout. He laid out the tent on the ground, quickly getting an idea of itsshape, and then he sat down on his knees and gripped hold of it andstarted to cut up the seams. With the tent being as small as it was, itdidn't take very long. He then set about securing one side of it to theground with the pegs and used the wires and sticks to get it a few feetoff the ground in the other end. It wasn't much, but it was the best hecould do with the materials at hand, and it would keep them slightlywarmer than just sleeping outside would. He glanced over at Jon andSpencer to gauge theirprocess and deemed that they seemed to be doing it somewhat right evenif their movements betrayed the fact that they didn't really know whatthey were doing. He went back to the rucksack and picked up thesleeping bag before taking a deep breath and walking over to whereBrendon was seated, pushing it into the boy's arms. "Go take a nap," hesuggested. "We'll wake you when the food is done, and this might all bea little easier to handle once you've gotten some sleep."

Brendon, though he knew hewouldn't be able to catch any sleep, slipped into the sleeping bag,making sure it went way over his head. He felt like a mummy. As he laythere on the rather uncomfortable ground, he listened to the sounds theothers were making, just a few soft words and some footsteps here andthere. He could hear an owl hoot somewhere not toofar off, and something small skitter across the forest. He sighedheavily and closed his eyes, forcing himself to take deep breaths andrelax. Only now did he remember that Ryan had said he was 23 years old,and probably heading to prison. The second part made his heart clench,and the first made him shake his head in disbelief. He looked too youngto be even 18; it was odd to think of him as older. Turning a bit,Brendon blew out a breath and looked up through the top of his sleepingbag. He was facing the camp and so could see Spencer crouched down, andthen Jon's feet and legs right next to him. He smiled softly. Well, ifnothing else, at least his friends were here.