Roderich sat in the small, damp little cell, alone with his thoughts. In fact, he had been there for days. Weeks. Possibly months, but he had no way to keep track of time. He had been stuck in this god awful prison camp for what seemed like forever, forced into captivity by that damn bastard he once had respect for. Now he was stuck here, waiting for a much needed rescue. If anyone would actually dare to come after him, they didn't know. He wasn't sure if he could take the interrogation sessions anymore, but he would still never tell anything he knew. He was no traitor. The large iron door of his cell opened with a loud, unpleasant creak and Roderich looked up, only to be blinded by light he had not seen in ages.

An albino looked around a bit nervously once he had opened the door to the cell his brother had made for his prisoners. He eyed the one prisoner with the silly curl curiously, shoving the keys he used to open the door in his pocket. "You," he pointed to the prisoner. "Come on. Let's go."

Roderich bit his lip, immediately frightened. "No... No more, please." He begged, scooting back into the corner of the room. "I- I can't... Not anymore, I can't take it anymore." His body began to shake and his eyes grew wide, staring at the albino through cracked glasses.

The man growled softly and looked over his shoulder before moving closer to him. "Get up, now," he ordered quietly, glancing behind him again. "If you don't get up, you won't be safe, dummkopf."

"W-was?" He asked, shakily standing up, clutching his wounded side with a bloodied hand. "I don't understand..." He whispered, confused.

"Mutiny, basically. I'm not working with my brüder any more. Now come on..!" He murmured coldly, checking behind him again, holding out a hand for him impatiently. Roderich took his hand, smiling ever so slightly. This could be his chance to get out. He said nothing, only weakly walking closer to the man.

The white-haired man glared and held onto the other's hand tensely, poking his head outside of the cell to check for anyone before turning to the brunette. "You... Whatever your name is... Act like you're working with my brother. Don't limp or hold your side. I'll help you with that later," he nodded to him.

"Right." He also nodded, grimacing as he forced himself to stand up right and put weight on his bad leg. He tried to get a better look at the albino, but his damaged glasses barely allowed it. He held onto the other's hand tight, deciding that he would probably end up guiding him for the most part.

"And if you're gonna hold my hand make it look like you aren't." he hissed quietly before taking the broken glasses off of his face and holding them in another hand before stepping out carefully, looking around slowly and shutting the door behind them and leading him toward his own tent slowly, kind of casually- looking.

Roderich forced himself to remain silent as he walked as casually as possible on his cracked ankle. Though he tried, every now and again a small sound would escape, in which he would seal his lips shut. Some of the other soldiers gave them weird looks, but he never made full eye contact. Maybe they would just assume he had just come back from a battle of some sort. He squinted his eyes, the whole world somewhat blurry without his glasses.

When they made it to the albino's tent, he guided him inside and onto the little cot he had as a bed and turned to close the entrance up tightly and looked back at him before going to grab some different clothes for the Austrian. "What is your name, anyway?" he asked gently as he brought the clothes over to him, kneeling down in front of him and unbuttoning the clothes the brunette was wearing for him.

The Austrian held his eyes closed for a while, waiting for the pain in his ankle to pass. When he reopened them, he saw the Prussian beside him and looked up at him. "...Roderich. And you are...?" He asked, voice still raspy but more relaxed than it had been in the cell.

"Gilbert.." he muttered, his eyes on his hands as he undressed the other quickly, tossing his coat and shirt aside and grabbing some medical stuff he had stashed away, starting to clean his wound gently, glancing at the tent entrance nervously every now and then.

Surprisingly, despite the sting from Gilbert cleaning his wound, Roderich stayed completely still. "Just out of curiosity," He stated, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. "I thought I heard you say something about not working with your brother earlier. Might I ask who your brother is?"

Gilbert paused quickly, glancing up at him. "He's... He's the one who's helping with.. This whole war... Ludwig Beilschmidt…" He sighed gently, thinking about how much he hated what Ludwig was doing, and by doing so, he knowingly put his own love in a cell. The Prussian knew then that he'd gone far enough and started the idea of their rebellion. "The one who put you in a cell, along with everyone else." At the last two words, he felt a stab of pain at his heart, thinking about the oh-so sweet and adorable girl he was courting, Felicia, who is now dead because of Ludwig… Because he put her in that damn cell…

The Austrian's eyes grew wide. "But... But what if he catches you? He'll kill you!" He almost shouted, getting worked up about the safety of the man who saved him for a reason he didn't quite understand.

"It won't matter, I'm not the only one doing this." he rolled his eyes and finished cleaning his wound and started to bandage it with a small sigh. "He's gone too far, I'm only worrying about those he's imprisoned."

"What are you going to do? Set them all free? Where will they go? This entire area is covered with guards and soldiers. If I'm spotted trying to leave, I'll be shot on the spot."

"Not if I'm escorting you, dummkopf. Or if you're dressed like a soldier, or someone like me." he nodded toward the clothes he set out for him. "It's not like we have fifty people being let out at once. We're doing it slowly so they won't notice. And they're all disguised or escorted."

"We're escorting them to another country, or, at least, near the border of Germany," he added quietly.

"I can't thank you enough for this. It's brutal what they are doing to people here." He muttered, keeping his weak gaze fixed on Gilbert.

"I know..." he sighed again, looking over his shoulder quickly and grabbing the outfit he set out. "Help me put this on you," he mumbled, wanting to stop thinking about what they were doing.

Roderich sat up with effort and took the shirt and jacket of the uniform, pulling it up onto his shoulders carefully. He tried to ignore any feeling of embarrassment he felt from this, but he still felt rather useless. "How much time do we have?" He asked, vision blurring even more now that the adrenaline was calming down and the dehydration and starvation was setting in.

Gilbert shook his head gently. "Calm down.. You can't leave yet..." he sighed, buttoning his shirt up and grabbing the overcoat and helping him put it on. "You're going to have to act like a soldier for a few days so that they don't see a random stranger that looks like one of them leaving." he frowned. "You can bunker with me during that time, schon gut?"

Looking disappointed, Roderich nodded. The more time he had to spend in this god awful place, the worse. But... At least he had someone like Gilbert to help him though it. There was just something about him, besides the fact that he saved him, that made Roderich feel safer around him.

Gilbert glanced up at his face and frowned. "Entschuldigung... I know you want to get out quickly.. I wish you could too... But it's just not that easy..." he sighed as he finished putting the clean overcoat on him and looked at him carefully- he looked good enough to pass as a soldier, with washing his face and fixing his hair. "Your ankle hurt?"

"Like hell." He said flatly, smiling slightly as if he had said a joke. At least the new clothes where more comfortable.

Gilbert chuckled softly at his smile. "You're lucky I was awesomely trained by a medical professional." he smirked up at him and pushed his pants up his leg, feeling both of his ankles gently.

Roderich flinched when Gilbert made contact with his right ankle, making a small painful noise. "I'm pretty sure the bone is cracked. It happened when I was struck with one of their guns for being 'too loud', so I doubt that it's just sprained. After walking on it, I'm sure it's bruised though,"

Gilbert examined it for a moment, prodding at the ankle with little apologies coming from his lips. After another moment, he paused and looked up at the Austrian. "No, "I'm pretty sure it's just barely worse than a sprain, but not too bad, though you were right, it is bruising." he mumbled, looking back down at his ankle and grabbing an ace wrap. The brunette really didn't know pain if he was complaining abut that.

He sat in silence as Gilbert worked, happy that he was being careful not to injure him. "So what are you going to do if he catches you?" Hopefully Gilbert knew what he was talking about.

Gilbert was silent for a moment, swallowing before he spoke reluctantly. "Vash, Mathias, or Alfred will know, and set me free, and I can't help within this camp anymore." he muttered gently, checking over his shoulder again cautiously.

Roderich prayed that that wouldn't have to happen, because if it did, he feared that he wouldn't even be burdened with a cell. His brother was cruel enough; Gilbert would just end up dead before anyone could get to him. He cleared his thoughts and tried to relax. "I think I'm fine for right now." He said, smiling at Gilbert as he finished his work.

Gilbert raised an eyebrow at him and frowned, getting up and glancing at the clock in his tent. "It's almost supper.. Want me to leave and get you something, or do you want to come out? Your choice, and it should be alright if you come with me, I fixed your ankle so that it stays still when you move."

"As much as I hate to admit it, it will probably be less suspicious if I go with you, that way they don't notice you with extra food." He sighed, standing up and trying to put some weight on his bad ankle. It felt better, but still hurt.

"You don't have to, but, whatever you say.." he moved closer to Roderich, offering a hand again. "If you're not walking, then balance your weight on your other leg." he mumbled, looking down at him.

Roderich took his hand, still not able to see well. "Right." He was going to have to depend on Gilbert to get him practically everywhere, and he was fine with that, but he was worried that if he might get separated at some point, what he would do to get back to safety.

Gilbert sighed gently and gripped Roderich's hand, smoothing the latter's hair back gently before walking outside carefully, pulling him toward the camp's eating area, which didn't exactly have the best food there, but had enough and was edible, so nobody complained. The white haired male led the other to the people who served the food and got their share, and moved away just as fast as they moved in. "You want to go back to the tent?" he glanced down at the brunette.

"Yeah. I think people are starting to notice me." He whispered, keeping his face downcast. On the way over, he had seen two of the soldiers that where in charge of most of his interrogations. One of them actually looked at Roderich, which scared the life out of him. He stayed close to Gilbert and wanted to get out of sight as soon a possible.

"You do realize if you get more people to notice you, and befriend more soldiers, the safer you'll be.." he mumbled, looking around for one of the other rebels that were helping prisoners.

"You're sure? He raised his head slightly, worry laced in his voice.

"I'm sure. We helped Vash's little sister outta here before, and a lot of the soldiers were simply upset when she was 'recruited to another site'. Pretty much the same thing with Antonio. Francis helped him out and he was awesome friends with everyone." he shrugged gently, spotting Alfred and Francis getting some food.

"... Alright." He murmured uneasily. He lifted his head back up to normal level, following Gilbert wherever he went. He didn't want to get separated from him.

Gilbert smiled down at him, nodding.