Darkness. It's all that consumed London for a long while. All was calm. The world stopped spinning. The voices have long fallen silent.

Then without warning a deep chill covered him.

"Oh, brother mine. What have you done?”

He didn't even need to open his eyes to know who was there.

That voice of annoyance and disappointment followed by the familiar pressure of two fingers taking his pulse and searching through his pockets as he lay curled on his side on the cold hard ground, could only belong to one person. The one person who should've been all the way across the other side of the world. Hell, anywhere as long as it wasn't here kneeling on the cold hard ground in a dirty, dark, damp drug den somewhere he could no longer remember, that was often occupied by people like him. The lost. The forgotten. The rejects. Those needing to get high. Those wanting to disappear and die. His kind of people.

He had ran as far as he could just to get away from the person currently by his side checking his still outstretched left arm for marks, so he could die alone like he deserved. No-one would ever know. He was at peace with that.

"Did you really think I wouldn't find out? I let you out of my sight, trusting you and look what happens. Look at the mess you've made. Again."

Of course he found out. He always did. He was, despite his protests of only holding a “minor position”, he WAS the government as far as London was concerned. He was THE government that did everything to hide his very existence because if "they" found out that Alexander Holmes had someone like him for a baby brother, drug addict and consulting criminal, was unthinkable which is why Alexander did everything he could in order to keep London's existence a secret because if he didn't, it would be the end of everything he had built. The "iceman" would be "defrosted" much to the delight of London, who knowing that went to great lengths to make as much noise as possible whenever he got 'bored'. 

"I'm not angry with you..."

London opened his eyes at that remark. Instantly regretting his decision.

He always said that and London always responded the same way. It was a vicious cycle. An infinite loop. Maybe they should get cards made up so they wouldn't have to keep repeating themselves. Certainly would save time.

London was about to suggest as such when he was suddenly lifted up and his upper body and head gently placed on Alexander's now outstretched legs. When had he sat down? More so why had he? The amount of mess on the ground would usually have his OCD, neat freak, picture perfect brother not even dare to move out of fear of getting even a minute speck of dirt on his insanely expensive and well tailored suits.

“Oh good, I was getting worried. No, wait. I really wasn't.”

Alexander let out a sigh and leaned his head back against the wall. London could feel the tension rising in his brother and it was only a matter of time before it snapped.

“Where is he?”

Ah, there it was.

"I shall not ask you again."

London stiffened. He knew that tone and nothing good ever came of it. He attempted to free himself from the position against Alexander's legs but his brother locked him in place with a well practiced and perfected hold that Alexander had developed when London was a child and used whenever he became “overwhelmed” or needed to be “restrained for his own good" while in a drug fueled rage or going through withdrawals. He knew better than to fight against it but instinct still had him try. After a brief struggle he silently admitted defeat and Alexander loosened his hold, finally allowing London the freedom to move and he took advantage and pulled himself upright to sit next to him. He pulled his knees to his chest and gestured to the wide open space before wrapping his arms around his knees.

"Not here, obviously.”

The look London received definitely had his brother living up to his ‘iceman’ nickname. It was cold and hard and if it was anyone but London, it would freeze them to the spot.

“Do not get smart with me, brother mine, we both know you will not win.”

London shook his head he did know better but pride and sibling rivalry would never let him back down.

“Keep telling yourself that. After you've done that, why don't you get your fellow men in black tell me something, huh? I’d love to know as well, because…”

London slowly pushed himself to a standing position using the brick wall as a guide. He then unzipped his jacket, letting it fall to Alexander’s lap, revealing a once white but now bloodstained shirt and pointed to a poorly bandaged right shoulder that was underneath and looked down at his brother as he spoke.

“I haven't seen him since this happened a few days ago thanks to those friends you don't have in that so called minor role of yours. So I suggest that for your sake and those responsible, you better pray he's thousands of miles away or dead because if he is not, you know that ‘east wind’ you are always so fond of reminding me about…”

Alexander’s intake of breath didn't escape London's notice, he was expecting that. What he wasn't expecting was his brother, the iceman, to let his cold hard mask to crack ever so slightly and...was that worry and fear Alexander was showing?

“It will not be me it comes for, brother dear.”

As quickly as Alexander let the mask slip, it was back in place and so was his cold and controlled voice.

"Oh but it will, just like those bodies you and your little buddy keep leaving laying around. Now I know I don't need to remind you of the definition of insanity. You have the brain of a scientist or a philosopher, however you willingly choose to poison your most dangerous weapon. You see everything even when there is nothing to see. So I'm asking, no telling you..."

Alexander stood up and handed London his jacket back. He then pointed to London's wounded shoulder and then around the wide open dirty and decaying drug den they had found themselves in.

"If you do not cease walking the path you are on, I will not hesitate to take you back to England with me, which I should do right now and put you somewhere even I will need a map to find you. I will hide you away if it means you will be rid of Elliot and the life you've chosen to live. Your blood will not be on my hands nor will your coffin rest on my conscience."

London stood momentarily stunned, processing Alexander's words. A grin appearing on his face. Surely it wasn't what he thought it was but he still felt compelled to ask.

"Is that a threat?"

Alexander shook his head and stood in front of London, making sure he made eye contact, before stepping away, knowing how much he hated making eye contact and having people in his personal space. And despite London being taller than his older brother, it felt like he was looking up at him. It was his childhood all over again.

"No. It's a promise and so is this. Until you either sort yourself out or tell me where Elliot is, I will not be returning to England. The choice is yours."

Surely his brother was, if he was capable of it, joking? Regardless a plan was quickly created. If his brother wanted to play, well, the game was afoot. 

"Well then, brother mine..." 

London put his jacket on and then began to walk away from Alexander. He really had no idea but he was going to real fast. His brother would be on a flight to England within hours. As he walked away he decided to add the final nail in the coffin.

"Welcome to Purgatory."