(What's wrong?)
Alfred looks at his hands blankly, he wears the perfectly tailored black suit his older brother had lovingly gifted him. He doesn't look at the casket, he doesn't think he can handle that (yet he thinks, he can't handle it yet but he'll handle it someday, just not today). The priest that doesn't even fucking know who Maria was, is saying that she is in God's kingdom. Of course, he thinks bitterly. She had been a Catholic and he's never really believed in her religion, but she had written in her hastily put together will that she wanted a priest to read out her requiem.
("Why do I need to do this again, Alfred?" He doesn't look back at her as he fills out the papers needed with his neat and elegant handwriting. "As your husband and speaking as a lawyer, you need to update your will every once in a while." She snorts, but her seemingly golden eyes soften, "Fine. Anything for you Alfred." Maria smiles at him and Alfred smiles back.)
He snaps out of his memories and scowls. It is something that he never imagined he would ever be able to perfect when was a naive little boy who thought he had the world at his feet when he married Maria. This scowl says things he will never say aloud because he is still the Hero.
(the failure of a Hero that couldn't save his damned damsel)
He can imagine how angry, how fucking furious Maria would be at him for doing this to himself and their child. It's okay though, it's okay, she had always looked beautiful with her golden eyes alight with anger.
("Ahaha! Hey Maria let's go out!" A teenaged girl with pretty brown hair tied back with a red ribbon glared at him furiously. "No way, gringo!")
Someone puts their hand on his shoulder. He raises his head; green eyes stare back sympathetically. Arthur smiles at him, his eyes filled with determination to help his brother get back to his feet. His brother holds his hand out and Alfred stares at it for a long time before he smiles uncertainly and takes it.
"Let's go."
(Alfred?)
Alfred had just finished his grueling work of being a lawyer. He stood near the door, waiting until he heard Maria's soft footsteps run towards him. She didn't disappoint, her eyes filled with joy as she threw herself on him without a second thought. He automatically adjusted himself, making room for her swollen belly and her much wider hips. She is laughing that twinkling laugh of hers, and Alfred feels all his worries melt away. He sets her down gently, "How was your day doll?" Maria smiles at him and waddles to the kitchen, pushing a cart filled with all of Alfred's favorite food. His mouth waters and he sits on the red-velvet chair in the dinning room. "I made this without anyone's help," Maria bragged shamelessly, patting her stomach proudly. "It's all for you Alfred!" Alfred smiles at her and starts stuffing his face like he used to do when he was a teenager. Some things just don't change, no matter how much time passes and the wonderful laughter that fills the house is one of those things.
(Where did we go wrong, he thinks and then he thinks and Alfred cannot find a reason as to why everything happened.)
No, this wasn't supposed to happen. What-no- this wasn't-why. His wife is bleeding out on the hastily placed white bed sheets that he had stuffed underneath her and-why the fuck isn't that doctor here yet! He grabs her hands, lying through clenched teeth that the doctor is coming soon. Her tanned face is pale, paler than his and she's screaming and writhing on the ground. He is sweating now, not daring to take his eyes off his weakening wife.
("I'm pregnant." Alfred drops his paperwork and turns to look at his wife. His face is shocked before it breaks out in a blinding smile and he picks her up and spins her around.)
The door is opened harshly by a doctor with slicked blond hair and a mouth set in a grim, stern line. He takes one look at Alfred's wife, takes his modern cellphone out, and starts speaking in rapid German. He shuts the phone quickly and asks Alfred to please help him take his wife out so they can save her life. Alfred is out the door faster than a fucking bullet.
("It'll be fine Alfred!" Maria wincing as she is dragged to the doctor's again by her over-protective husband. He snorts and pulls on her faster.)
He puts his head on his hands. The white, sterile hospital walls disgust him but he can't look at anything other than them. The grey doors are thrown opened, the German doctor from before standing there looking impassive as he had in the beginning. Alfred shot up, "How is my wife? Can I see-" the doctor gives him a small, pitiful look he's probably perfected a thousand times. "Sit down," the doctor says gently, guiding Alfred's suddenly stiff body into a chair. The doctor-his name is Beilschmidt. Ludwig Beilschmidt (and… and because he is German, he likes wurst and potato Alfred thinks desperately) gives him one smoldering look with his dark blue eyes. "Mr. Jones," he begins, wooden clipboard held in his hand, "There is no easy way to say this but… your wife, she's dead." Alfred smiles at the German man, clapping his back heartily, "Thank you dude! When can I see Maria?" Ludwig sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. "Your wife is dead Mr. Jones, you will not be seeing her anytime soon." Alfred's smile slowly fades, a scared, empty look in his eyes that screamed that he didn't want to believe this doctor. "Your child survived," Ludwig snaps his fingers and a nurse wearing a light blue uniform hurries out, his strange curl sticking out as he hands Alfred his child gently before leaving silently. Alfred stares at the small child (with no features from Maria and all of his) he is calm and peaceful.
("I hope the child looks like me!" Alfred looks at his smiling wife and laughs, "I do too.")
He hands the child off to his surprised brother. He sputters, green eyes wide and caterpillars raising. "Take him," Alfred says with a raw throat, eyes looking as dead as his voice. Arthur would have screamed at him, but there is a child in his arms and he settles for hissing. "Alfred! This is YOUR child! Your's and Maria's baby!" But Alfred is cold and unfeeling and long gone with his sleek, black Mercedes and Arthur could have been shouting at air for all the effect it had on the blond. He stares after his brother, and he can feel little Daniel looking at him and he blinks his golden eyes and for a moment, Arthur can see Maria inside of him. So the Englishman goes back to his small apartment and sits near the fire where he used to read bedtime stories to his brother. Arthur sighs and shakes his head, his brother never deserved all this heartbreak.
(Let's go back to a time when everything was perfect.)
Alfred smiles at his girlfriend nervously, rubbing the velvet box in his jacket every other minute. Maria had been suspicious for a while, asking him if his blush was the result of the sun. But he waves her away with a red face. "Let's go into that cafe!" He doesn't give her a chance to respond as he drags her there. Once inside the quaint coffee shop, he steels his nerves and proposes with a red face that not even Romano, Maria's brother's friend, could compare. Well, even though he had prepared a beautiful speech just for her, he just managed to blurt out a nervous, "Marry me!" But Maria had always understood and she said yes, why, of course silly! He smiles brightly, they'd be together forever, right?
(you're wrong wrong wrong, because promises are made to be broken and forever came terribly too soon.)