Abducted

7

Illinois came into the room, and she glanced at him.

"What?" she asked, and he looked over at Connecticut with pity. Her eyebrows furrowed a little- he never looked at his siblings with pity. The torture had changed him, and that was when she realized.

"I'm going to look for her," he said, "I want to know she's alright."

Well, there was one sibling he would always care about- his twin sister, Indiana. She was a little firecracker.

"We don't have a lead. You can't just go mindlessly searching."

"Watch me."

"No," she said, grabbing his arm, "I need you here. I need to know you're okay."

Illinois realized in that moment how the solitude had changed his aunt. He knew she'd been alone, wandering aimlessly to try and find them, but only then he realized how much it had drained her.

He nodded, standing with his arms crossed, "How long do you think he's been starved?"

"All six months. They just dropped him off in a box and left him there," she replied, "probably thought he was useless because he didn't fight back."

Illinois chuckled, "he was always one of the smart ones."

She looked at him for a moment, before ruffling his hair. He was back in his normal clothes, black ripped jeans, leather jacket and stained white shirt, and it made her a little more comfortable. At least it wasn't a hospital gown, that just reminded her of the inhumane treatment he faced.

"You don't have to feel bad about how I was treated," Illinois said, casually, "and I'm glad you like my fit."

She laughed, before looking over to Connecticut. He shifted slightly, trying to get more comfortable, and Zaltana's face broke out into glee. Illinois let a little smile sneak onto his face as well.

"How do you think mom is doing?" he asked, and she glanced back.

"I don't know," she replied. He should have escaped by now. He should be back by now- her thought process stopped when she realized that Illinois was reading her mind.

Illinois looked at the ground, "What can I do to help?"

"Try to find anything we missed."

Ivan was in his room, sweeping up the glass. It was late afternoon now, as if the entire day had escaped them. Germany had spent four hours interrogating the two humans as well as Illinois, and made most of them sit in for it.

He put the glass into a trash can, before stripping the bed of it's sheets, placing the gun gently on the bedside table. There was only one bullet left in it from Alfred's daring attempt to stay free, and he didn't want to unload it.

The mattress was trashed but the box-spring was usable. He looked at the dresser, opening the bottom shelf to find Alfred's stash. Adult toys, weed, and what he was looking for was in the drawer. He pulled out the stack of cash, looking around the room. He had a good three thousand dollars to fix the place up.

He didn't know why he wanted to, it would be so much easier to just pocket the money and leave the room how it was, but he felt like being nice. God, he kinda hated being nice.

He also realized that he would have to ask Zaltana to get him in and out of the valley, and he evaluated whether or not he should just leave it before deciding whatever he felt at the moment was worth more than his pride.

Italy was standing on the roof of the mansion. He'd found a latter that led up to it. There was nothing weird, besides the marks on the panels from where someone had hooked ropes.