Hello everyone! I'm back with a current story that I'm writing as a gift for my friend. I've been writing with her for over a year and I really do love her character. She'd put a lot of work into devolpling it and improving it. While there is an OC, there will be little mention of her. This is a story of Alfred and Allen going through their stages of grief. It's a human Au and I've had this idea for quite a while. I don't own any of the characters, all right go to their respected owners.
"I went to bed and woke in the middle of the night thinking I heard someone cry, thinking I myself was weeping, and I felt my face and it was dry. Then I looked at the window and thought: Why, yes, it's just the rain, the rain, always the rain, and turned over, sadder still, and fumbled about for my dripping sleep and tried to slip it back on."
― Ray Bradbury
He never really liked the rain. He didn't like how cold it felt against his skin even with a jacket on. He felt like it seeped through the material and chilled him to the bone. It canceled outdoor events because people didn't want to get sick or soaked. It made the roads slippery and increased the danger of crashing. In the fall it made things seem dreary.
The colorful leaves on trees were the only thing that seemed alive, but even then they got to heavy from the water and fell to the ground. During the winter rain mixed with the snow, if it was cold enough to snow, and made it mushy. No one could sled on the mixture and everyone was sick of staying inside.
Thunderstorms were the worst. Flashes of lighting outlined the dark rolling clouds, and the rumble of thunder always followed. The lightning casted shadows and made it seem like things were there, even if it was just his imagination.
He usually hid under the blankets on the basement couch and watched a movie, feeling safe and warm. So if anyone was to ask Alfred Jones, a twenty-four year old blue eye'd boy who worked in the ER wing of the hospital in town, if he liked the rain he'd answer with a small explanation on why he did not.
But now if he was asked the same question he wasn't quite sure of what his answer would be. He guess he liked how it rolled down the it window of the car, making some things seem blurry and distorted. There was a peacefulness to it, but it also seemed really loud. Another reason to add to the long list of dislikes in the back of his head. Maybe he would write them all down and make a book.
"You still don't like the rain, do you?" A familiar voice questioned, breaking Alfred's chain of thoughts.
He didn't need to glance over at other person, or even give an answer. It was just a question to try and make some conversation. The car ride was pretty quiet, not that Alfred minded. It allowed him to think, which could be consider a good thing. The work days were long and he was grateful for the constant rides to and from work. It was one less thing to stress about.
"No, not really."
Red eyes glanced over at the passenger with mixed emotions, but blue eyes glanced towards the guard rails along the side of the road and the ditch behind it. The guard rails were rather low and it wouldn't take much to go over them. One wrong hit or just a swerve could send anyone tumbling over the railing.
The observation wasn't voiced but tanned hands seemed to grip the wheel, almost trying to reassure that they wouldn't slip from it.
"Any reasons?" Allen asked, hoping to get some words out of the quiet blonde.
"Plenty of them."
"Any you're willing to share?"
"It's too loud."
"Oh, any other reasons?"
"It makes it seem like the sky is crying."
A soft sigh was heard from Allen, and it held mild frustration. It was pretty easy for Alfred to tell but he wasn't going to say anything. He just didn't want to talk. There wasn't anything to talk about. They both knew how work went, it was long and exhausting emotionally more then it was physically.
He didn't feel like talking about sports or what was on the news. None of that was real conversation, but nether wanted to ask or talk about how they felt because they didn't want to know the answer.
Alfred felt pretty crappy if he was going to be honest. He was tired but didn't want to sleep. He was cold but he didn't feel like putting on his jacket. He'd just get really warm and would take it off only for the cycle to repeat. He felt like running a marathon but collapsing at the same time.
If he was feeling anything, Alfred felt terribly conflicted. He really hated the feeling, but it wasn't even close to the full details of his emotions. He could just hide most of it with a smile and cheery, strong willed attitude but even that seemed to be falling apart.
The rest of the ride was silent, allowing Alfred to keep his gaze on the window as they drove through the forested area. It was only twenty minutes or so away from the hospital but it was fairly nice outside of the city.
It was usually pretty quiet and empty so he never had to worry about being crowded by people. That was pretty uncomfortable and he didn't like feeling squished or like he couldn't breathe.
"Alfred."
A long pause of silence seemed to echo through the car.
"Alfred?"
A hand waved in front of his face, eventually snapping him out the daze he kept slipping back into. Blue eyes met red ones they went back to looking out the widow. They had come to a stop in front of his house. It wasn't anything special. It had 2 bedrooms, one bath and two floors not including the basement.
It was more then enough for Alfred to live in, but he was used to having company. Suddenly goosebumps ran up his arms and Alfred couldn't help but shudder. The heater in the car had been turned off and Alfred didn't realize how chilly it actually was. How long had he been zoned out?
"Alfred, we've been setting in front of your house for ten minuets. I think you need to go inside and lay down, maybe try and get some sleep?"
Alfred sighed softly before slowly opening the passenger side door. He stepped out, slipping his backpack over his shoulders. It was cold and rainy. It just made a nasty combination. He mumbled something about being grateful for the ride before starting up the path to his house. He was only a few steps away from the car when he heard the window being rolled down.
"I mean it Alfred. Get some sleep, you're starting to look like one of those ghost you're so scared of." Allen said, concern faintly trickling into his words.
The statement was an attempt to get a reaction out of the blonde haired by but Allen got nothing but that stare. It wasn't angry or happy or anything like that. He couldn't quite pull an emotion from it but it almost seemed sad.
Once he watched Alfred enter the house, Allen let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Everyone handled things in their own ways but Alfred didn't even seem like he was handling it. Sure, the past week has been hard for everyone but it seemed to be taking a toll on Alfred.
Then again, Allen figured he might be one of the few to see behind Alfred's smiles. Maybe the boy was just pushing through the shock and denial? If he was, Allen didn't want to see him in the stage of pain and realization. The boy already seemed so different.
Upon getting home Allen slipped into clean clothes without any interruptions, no one else was home at the moment so the peaceful quiet was almost comforting. There wasn't much in the fridge and Allen really wasn't hungry, but one small drink was enough to calm him even further.
He could have drank the whole bottle but that wasn't an option, he had a job after all. He didn't think patients would be happy if he was working with a hangover. If he started drinking he didn't think he'd stop.
So he flopped down on the gray couch, lazily turning on the television. He didn't pay attention to what was on, instead he slipped the blankets over himself trying to slip into some kind of sleep.
Alfred was having similar results. He took a shower, dressing in sweats and a long sleeve. He was curled up on his bed, watching the blinking numbers of his digital alarm clock change every minuet. He didn't feel like turning the television on. He didn't feel like doing much but laying down.
He didn't want music to block out the rain, but he didn't mind when his dog slowly curled up beside him. It took an hour or so before Alfred gave into sleep. It was restless but it was much better then not getting anything. He had to be awake for his job, he couldn't afford the make mistakes.
The night was long for both boys, especially when recent events played in their minds. Allen couldn't stop dreaming about the quiet and dreary halls of the children's hospital. Alfred couldn't stop dreaming about the rain and them going over the guardrail in a mess of broken glass flecked with blood and the way his vision would keep going black. Both boys were tossing and turning, mumbling incoherent words in their sleep.
Allen had rolled off the couch at some point but didn't wake up. Alfred had become a tangled mess of his limbs and the blankets. But neither dreamed about the incident from a week ago, that would have been a nightmare. Living with the effects of it was nightmarish enough and dreaming about it would have been pure torture.
I'm really hope you guys like this story. Reviews are always appreciated~
