Thank you!

The title (In The Shadow) is after the song of the same name by The Rasmus. It's an AWESOME song, but I don't recommend listening to it unless you want to know some of the future conflict.

I did my homework this week – reading everything in the RusAme community is homework, right? And for 'real' (psh) homework: Science. AU = Astronomical Unit...I'm gonna fail that test.

Chapter Three

For once, Alfred and Arthur both walked with the same dejected tread. After the initial attempt to escape from jail, Francis, Gilbert, and some new guy that had randomly appeared named Antonio (Chelsea was mysteriously absent) had followed them. The bright lights of the city lit the dark of the night, completely destroying the creepy atmosphere.

"Arthur~" Francis had called. "Don't you wanna know about your wonderful little friend?" Arthur had turned on him, eyebrows flaring (yes, Arthur's eyebrows could flare).

"What now, Francis? Aren't you content my ruining my life on agonizing second at a time?"

Alfred stood to the side, feeling thoroughly left out of the whole ordeal. In fact, the whole day at seemed like a dream where you sit around and watch other things happen and try to figure out how they relate to you. Proving this theory, in Alfred's mind, was the fact that he was still in his PJ's.

Antonio and Gilbert strided over to him casually. Antonio put his arm around Alfred's shoulder in a comradely fashion. Alfred looked away. These people were weird. Like, escaped-from-the-crazy-farm weird.

"Don't stress, mi amigo," Antonio said. "They go at it like this a lot. Tensions."

"If you know what I mean," Gilbert added, winking.

Alfred looked back up at him. "You guys know Arthur?"

Gilbert nodded; he examined his broken fingernails and muttered something about someone named Elizabeta and an angry T-Rex. "Yes, for a very, very long time. Longer than you have been alive, probably. Toni, how long do humans live?"

Antonio looked to the sky, as if something there would tell him the answer. "...a hundred years, isn't it?"

Shrugging, Gilbert said, "You're the human-expert here dude, what with the whole Lovino thing." Antonio began to interrupt, but Gilbert continued with "Seems like an awfully short time, that. A hundred years?"

Somehow feeling ashamed of the actual seventy-eight years of human life, Alfred looked down at his feet. Though he shouldn't, really. Gilbert patted his back, almost knocking him to the ground. "Don't worry old chap," he said in terrible British accent. "I don't expect you to live for another year anyhow, what with the shit you're involved in, eh? Eh?"

Alfred laughed nervously and rubbed the back of his head. Not funny, dude.

"Oh, is he now?" Arthur shouted at Francis. "And who died and made you god of prophecies?"

"Apollo," Francis replied sadly. "And Cassandra, who (un)luckily named me heir...on her deathbed."

Arthur's eyes widened in shock. "Not Apollo, surely! He's been around for thousands of years! And Cassandra?"

"I'm afraid so." Francis sighed and twisted his hands together. "I don't know what to do, Arthur! The war is still fresh in everyone's memory."

Suddenly united by misery, Francis and Arthur huddled into some sort of comfort group, patting each other on the backs and sniffling - and reminiscing like old veterans.

"My knee still kicks up on rainy days."

"Every time I take a shower, I'm reminded of that awful day..."

Antonio leaned over to Gilbert. "Is that true? Is he really the Prophecy God now?"

Gilbert snorted and leaned against a wall, arms folded. "Psh. And I'm the God of Fucking."

"Fucking ?" Antonio asked in confusion. "You can't predict love, can you? Ooh, can you see what will happen between me and Lovino?" And so Gilbert began a lecture on the birds and the bees, the difference between love and lust, sarcasm, and how he was the God of Awesome. Duh.

And that's how the bewildered Alfred and the sniffing Arthur managed to find themselves in a dingy back alley, following the group that had publicly proclaimed themselves to be 'The Bad Touch Trio!'

"Walk faster," Arthur ordered, speeding up as he did so to avoid the inevitable retaliation of 'well, you're not walking any faster than me!'

Alfred stopped as they ran around a street corner. "I'm not going any further until someone tells me what the hell is going on." He folded his arms in a way that was totally not like a petulant child at all. "I've been kidnapped -"

"It's not kidnapping if it's the police that do it!" Antonio said cheerfully.

"- I meant by you," Alfred responded, cross. "I have no idea where we are or why we are going there, and you -" he glared at Francis "-keep looking at me funny. I'm beginning to think Gilbert wasn't joking about the short hundred year lifespan. He keeps on telling me to watch out for puddles because I might catch a cold and die."

"I was not looking at you 'funny'!" Francis said indignantly, hands on hips.

"He was trying to flirt," Antonio said. Gilbert sniggered.

"Alright lad," Arthur sat down and patted his knee. "Come here and I'll tell you the story...of how I met -"

"Don't you dare. And why is the British one the only person who knows about America?" Alfred threw his hands up in exasperation. "Explain."

"Talk while we walk bitches," Gilbert said offhandedly. "We gotta deadline to catch."

And so Arthur hastily summarized the entire history of the mythical race; panting occasionally as they ran to keep up with the abnormally fast walking Trio (they claimed it was strutting). "Long ago, what you call monsters ruled the Earth.( No, Alfred – not dinosaurs.) People still believed in us (yes, I'll explain later!) , sometimes they even worshiped us! There were dark times, of course, but it was for the best. We ruled the world! But slowly, people lost the ability to See – it started out with seeing, but not believing. They excused our true nature as a trick of the light, a nightmare, some deformity on our part that they shouldn't look at. They alleviated their fear by making up stories for children, stories where the beautiful princess always defeated the ugly, old hag. The humans did so while simultaneously denying that we ever existed. They deluded themselves into thinking we were – we are – morals for children. Do not stray into the forest, do not talk to strangers, never trust the talking animal.

"We grew to accept this fate. There was nothing we could do, really. We resigned ourselves to scaring children. But a great prophet was born and promised one thing before he disappeared: There will be a savior, a grown human with a mind like a child's. That human would bring forth a new age of belief and wonder. Monsters like us will once again rule the Earth! But soon the world was divided – that was probably our fatal mistake. We should have united together. But the prophecy split us into two main groups: Those that believed the original phrasing translated to something like 'sacrifice the Seer' and those who thought it meant 'share and give hospice to the Seer." (I'm paraphrasing). And even after the ensuing war, nothing was decided. Meeting were held, arguments made, but nothing would sway either side from there resolve. But the world was tired of war. A compromise was made: first come, first served.

"We think the Seer is you (we're on the non-sacrifice side, Alfred. Calm down). Truth be told, both of us though you were a vampire. I admit to attempting several spells to finding out your true nature, but they all backfired. Spectacularly. (I'm surprised you didn't hear it, Alfred. Oh, you thought it was me cook – WHAT? YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE -). This all points to you being The One. Gilbert was the one to figure it out. He has a friend named...um...oh, Matthew. Matthew was talking about you, someone who looked exactly like him and could even see him, something many non-humans have trouble with. Gilbert also knows Ivan, and knows him well. He knows his sister, and well, they are already on your trail." Alfred finally stopped, satisfied that he had explained it all.

Alfred stared at him blankly. "Are you on drugs?"

"No."

"Am I on drugs?"

"No, and this isn't a dream, or a nightmare. You're not hallucinating, we're not hallucinating, this isn't a badly written fanfiction (I know what you and Kiku do together). Real life, this."

Alfred opened his mouth, gaping like a goldfish. "So who is Ivan and his sister?"

"They...they don't really rule,per se. The Bragin – Ivan Braginski and his family are very rich – influential. They've kept their hold on the human world, and inspire just as much fear as 'humans' as they do as monsters. All you need to know right now is that they are very, very firmly on the side of sacrifice. They generally like blood."

"...So where are we going now?" Alfred asked sarcastically as they rounded another street corner. "Hell?"

Arthur looked at him appraisingly. "Good job! Fortunately, we have the Bad Touch Trio here with us; not only will they provide easy access into the gates of hell, they have places for you to hide for the time being. Oh look, we're here already!"

The Bad Touch Trio had stopped; they stood in a tight circle, looking nervously around the deserted alleyway. Alfred peered in between them, not really listening to whatever Arthur was blathering on about. He was in a fairy tale – a Disney movie. An EPIC Disney movie, back before they had to worry about being politically correct. Or Tangled. Tangled was good, though Alfred had his doubts on the efficiency of frying pans (if only he knew...). The horse was hilarious.

What?

The question was of trust now. He had known Arthur for...what was it? Five, ten years? Arthur was one of his very best friends. Francis was Francis. He had just been, well, around. Disappeared occasionally until he could bribe the police to let him out of jail. But he was always helpful, feeding him when Alfred came begging in those awful weeks Arthur had banned fast food and appointed himself cook. Alfred tried to think, tried to rationalize his decisions to himself. What if Francis and Arthur were really, really drunk/high, despite what they claimed? He, the hero, had a mission to protect them. Nevermind wondering how exactly they managed it without him seeing - this day was crazy and unbelievable enough already.

Inside the human circle was an open manhole, greasy and dirty as the rest. Alfred stared down at it for a full minute before looking back up, laughing. "Alright, seriously. Where are we going?"

"Hell," Arthur said in what was probably supposed to be an eerie tone. It ended up sounding ridiculous.

Francis pushed him. "Not so loud!"

Arthur stumbled over the rough pavement. When he managed to regain his balance, he glared at Francis; he looked as if he were about to kill him.

Gilbert stopped them by whispering in an urgent tone, "Someone might be listening, dumbasses! I know you can't be as awesome as me, but seriously!" They looked away, ashamed.

Antonio went first, jumping feet-first into the hole with a cheery "Ole!" Then Francis, and then Arthur pushed a reluctant Alfred in, following him down shortly after. Gilbert stayed on the surface, carefully covering up the man-whole with its cover and, taking another glance around, began performing the nonchalant walk.

XxXx

Something was off. Ivan and the head looked at each other (well, the head didn't really look, but you know what I mean). The Seer was dead. Natalia should be getting the power to overthrow the humans any minute now. Really, someone should have felt something hours ago! Unless those life-supporters were right. (Perish the thought!).

Ivan thought. And thought. And thought.

And finally, he came up with an idea. Or a memory, really.

Matthew,Ravis had said. Matthew was a man's name – the head clearly belonged to a girl. Why hadn't he realized it before? The Seer was alive; Natalia had made a dreadful mistake. He could still gain the power of the Seer. Ivan began to stand up – but he had to keep it from his sister. He couldn't be foiled again.

He would have to find someone else to do his work. A subordinate that he could trust not to take the power for themselves. None of the domovoi, that was for sure. Neither of his sisters, of course. He had no idea where Yekaterina was at the moment anyway.

Gilbert had abandoned him a long time ago.

Well, there was always a Plan B~

XxXx

Toris was not liking Plan B. Natalia felt the same way. She glared at him in barely concealed hatred. The concealment was actually so substandard that Toris was safe to say that it did not exist at all. Ivan had left him as a sort of babysitter for Natalia while he went off and did...what? Toris didn't really want to know. He didn't really care.

In front of Natalia, Ravis was trembling, swaying gently in the faint breeze from an open window. This, Toris felt, was actually ingenious. Ivan had managed to somehow convince his sister that babysitting was a necessary part of being a wife, and that the three domovoi were perfect test subjects. Truly a master of manipulation – at least towards his sister.

"You want to be read a story?" Natalia growled. Teeth bared, she yanked a picture book from a shelf and shoved it into Ravis' face. "This one, yes?"

"Miss Natalia," Eduard interjected smoothly. "That is a history textbook."

"Yes, and?" Natalia asked. "Back in my day, we didn't have enough history to read! The parasia must learn!"

Eduard shrugged and returned to his laptop. Ravis trembled at the betrayal.

"Once upon a time," Natalia began harshly. "There was a little boy and a little girl. Little brother took his little sister by the hand and said, "Since our mother died we have had no happiness; our step-mother beats us every day, and if we come near her she kicks us away wither her foot. Our meals are the hard crust of bread that our left over; the little dog under the table is better off, for she often throws it a nice but. May Heaven pity us. If only our mother knew! Come, we will go forth together into the wide world." It was the beginning to a tale well known in the Braginski household. It was about two children who wandered into the forest. Slowly, the brother began to die of thirst – but every pool he came to was enchanted, and would transform him into an animal. When his thirst became too great,succumbed to the temptation and drank - becoming a deer, lithe and fast. The King and his huntsmen wanted him for their dinner table, but the little sister protected her brother.

"Ah, little sister, save me!
The dogs of the lord they chase me;
They chase me, oh! so quickly;
They seek, they seek to rend me,
They wish to drive me to the arrows,
And thus to rob me of my life."

It ended happily enough, the little brother turning back into the human and the sister into a princess. But like all of the old, true fairy tales, it had death.

The humans had confused some of the essential points, but they did well enough.

Ravis pretended to doze off, and before Natalia could kick him awake, Toris convinced her that this meant that he, most definitely not her, should carry him up to bed.

"Is this...good?" she asked. For a moment, Toris felt a surge of pity. She really didn't know how to take care of a child – she probably had never been taken care of. She really did desperately want her brother's love, something that would never be returned.

"Yes," he replied. Natalia smiled faintly.

"Good."

XxXx

Ivan stalking the streets with Death and his white horse. People avoided him in, wrinkling their noses as he went past. The scent of decaying flesh followed him and bones jutted under stretched skin. He was a horror, a monstrosity.

He was proud.

Many these days were ashamed of what they were; they struggled with themselves, trying to justify their birth. Ivan was not one of these creatures. He was perfectly fine with who he was. Centuries of curses and fear aimed towards him had hardened him, both physically and mentally.

Still, he pulled his scarf up over his chin and wrapped his long winter coat tightly around his skinny body. He was on a hunt now, something he had not been on for many, many years. He could not afford to get distracted.

The place to start would be Matthew, but he didn't know the location(s) of his haunt. He would have to go down the long line of gossip that Ravis had spouted off and see if he could track down the Seer through rumors. Eduard was the first, wasn't he? Well, it was already too late to go back. His sister would attach onto him like a leech and never let go. After Eduard it was...Tino. That's right, a Finnish spirit of-some-sort. Ivan couldn't remember exactly...it was a strange title. Eduard would have known what it was. So would Kat, but of course, she knew everything. Started with an 'H'...haltija, that's it. Ivan smiled.

If he went to Tino's home, he would have to deal with Berwald. Ivan wasn't completely sure what that man was either - he could be human for all Ivan knew. That didn't make it anymore appetizing for Ivan. He still had to deal with 'wh't 'r' y' d'g w'th m' w'f'', whatever that meant.

Maybe he was a wizard, casting a magic spell every time he talked to Tino. That wasn't too unlikely.

Ivan was sure he would be able to get the information somehow, da?

XxXx

I feel like I dumped so much information on you this chapter...damn. I'm really not to please on how this turned out, actually. Alfred's not going to be the Arthur Dent for long - he's going to be more like the Philip J. Fry.

Let's see...the original story is called Brother and Sister. It can be found here: (don't worry, it's not in verse) surlalunefairytales{dot}com/authors/grimms/11brothersister {dot}html

It's actually very good.

Me? I've (along with the RusAme community) have been reading the tumblr reasoningwithvampires{dot}tumblr{dot}com I love that thing. It's documents all the grammar errors in Twilight. They are grammar mistakes that I, an unqualified writer-in-her-spare-time-who-totally-doesn't-write-yaoi, would fall for. And I'm un-betaed. Don't writers have like, editors? I could have sworn that they did...

I love tumblr.

Q&A

-Are fairy tales true or not?

Depends. Fairy tales can be like a humans history. Some of it is too unbelievable to be true, some is a case of history being made by the winners (ie – the humans) and some is actually fact. Fiction? Um...

-Eating the Seer? What?

Everyone is seriously divided on this. Ivan thinks you gotta eat 'em because he's a cannibal. That's what he does to everybody.

-Why is Russia/Ivan skinny?

-Mythologically, wendigo's are known for their skinniness. One of the major points in their character is how [from Wikipedia] "Whenever a Wendigo ate another person, it would grow in proportion to the meal it had just eaten, so that it could never be full. Wendigos were therefore simultaneously constantly gorging themselves and emaciated from starvation."

-Why are there so many magical creatures gathering around Alfred? It's a bit...improbable, right?

*cough* Ye- I mean, no. Not improbable at all, me. But everyone did think Alfred was a vampire - and monsters naturally flock together for safety. And Alfred gives off a very magical aura, if you know what I mean.

If you have any questions at all, please ask me and I'll see what I can do without giving away plot. And if anyone knows any bit of mythology that would fit Su-san, that would be amazing, thank you.

Reviews are lovely, darling.