August 4, 2012

I should be working on Last Minute Memories (which I certainly am), but I wanted to write something short, too. Hopefully I'll finish this in a few days.

Reality, Enough

This was real. They were real.

Alfred smiled down at the man leaning on his shoulder, watching as his chest rose and fell silently, lightly. Maybe reality wasn't so bad after all.

Alfred hated reality. His parents always told him his dreams weren't real. He shouldn't listen to them. He wouldn't listen. He refused to believe that all that he loved wasn't real.

You're mixing them up, Alfred. No, he wasn't. That was in your dream, wasn't it? No, it was real!

Alfred, dear, listen to me. No, believe him! Alfred knew what he saw. Come with us… and they were dragging him. Dragging him into the car as he thrashed and yelled and shouted. No, no, NO!

"Alfred!"

Everything came tumbling down and he saw black. Alfred shakily opened his eyes again, hearing his own heavy breath. Wide, green eyes stared back at him, worried and urgent. "Alfred, breath."

And Alfred did. He breathed deeply, shutting his eyes and opening them, reaching his trembling hand to Arthur's. "Yeah…"

"Alfred, we're fine," he murmured and knocked their heads together, petting Alfred's hair. "We're fine…" he soothed.

"Yeah," Alfred mumbled. "Yeah…"

~a~

Jones, Mr. Jones. Can you hear me?

Yes, he wanted to say. The voice was far away. Why was he talking to him?

Mr. Jones, follow my instructions, please.

He wanted to nod.

Can you tell me what you've been seeing?

He wanted to speak, but he couldn't hear himself. Where was he?

Who's Arthur?

Arthur…Arthur. He was everything. He was what Alfred needed. Where was Arthur?

Mr. Jones, please relax. Arthur is right here. Can you feel him holding your hand?

No, Alfred wanted to say. He wanted to get out of here and look for Arthur, but then he felt pressure and warmth on his hand. Arthur was here…

Good. Now please, tell me how you met him.

Oh, that wasn't a very long story. But it was—

~a~

Alfred opened his eyes. He was in his room. The superhero posters, the batman figurines, his desk and his closet and his messy floor. What time was it? This room…it was years ago. Back when he was going through high school. Wasn't he out of college now? Working an office job, living with Arthur.

Arthur.

Where was Arthur?

Alfred ripped the covers off him and bolted out the door, down the stairs. The smell of breakfast wafted into his olfactory senses and he went into the kitchen.

"Mattie! Where's Arthur?"

His brother looked up from the pan and a look of confusion crossed his face before it disappeared. "Alfred, you're at home. It's the morning. Why would you think Arthur would be here at this time of day?"

Alfred smiled sheepishly. Matthew made sense. "Haha, I guess so. Sorry." He pulled out a chair, the legs scraping against the tiled floor. They both winced slightly at the sound. "What are we having today?"

"I made eggs, but if you want pancakes or waffles I can make those, too." Matthew scooped up the food onto a plate and placed it on the table.

"Naw, it's fine. Your eggs are delicious!"

Matthew sat down across from Alfred, and had an unreadable expression on his face, regarding Alfred through his eyes.

"'nything wrong, Mattie?" Alfred spoke through his first bite of his breakfast.

Matthew blinked and looked down at his own plate. "No…no, nothing's wrong. Just eat."

"M'kay," Alfred mumbled and shrugged.

After they finished, Alfred hurriedly went upstairs to change. It still felt weird that he was back home, in his childhood room, when he should be out and living by himself, with Arthur. He shrugged the feeling off and slipped an arm through his jacket, opening the door.

"Where are you going?"

Alfred turned around and looked at Matthew. "To meet Arthur!"

Matthew bit his lips, as if he had something he wanted to say, but couldn't. Alfred stared a while longer, until he began to frown. He couldn't be thinking…

"Mattie, I'm fine. You've met Arthur already, haven't you?" He gave Matthew a stern gaze, making his brother shrink back and look to the floor.

"Y-yeah…" He nodded. "I have…"

"There! See, you know he's a good guy, right? There's nothing wrong. Not anymore." Alfred tried hard not to sound as if he was pleading in that last line.

"Have…have fun," Matthew finally said, looking up and smiling. The ends of his lips twitched.

"Yeah, of course! I'll be home in a bit!"

As soon as the door closed, Matthew's lips pulled downwards and he bit the inside flesh. His eyes blurred, even as he frantically rubbed at them with the sleeve of his hoodie.

He didn't know Arthur. And never will.

~a~

Reality was never nice to Alfred. He never liked it. But he thought he could bear with it if it meant he could be with Arthur.

He walked down the street and passed friends, neighbors, people he had seen around. "Hey! Do you know where Arthur is?" he'd ask. Some of them would look at him sadly, which irritated him to no end, and others would just say, No, they didn't. Sometimes, a few would say that they saw him pass by a while ago, but forget just how long. Alfred thanked them and continued on his way.

He wasn't crazy. He wasn't crazy. They just didn't understand.

He walked for a little more, until he arrived at the bridge overlooking the river and he saw a shock of messy hair, the young man leaning against the side of the bridge. Alfred grinned and started jogging over.

"Arthur!"

He turned at the sound of his name, and when he saw Alfred, his lips lifted into a soft smile.

"Hello," he murmured.

Alfred slammed into him and wrapped him in a tight hug, his smile against Arthur's skin. "I thought you disappeared," he sighed.

"You idiot," Arthur whispered, petting Alfred's hair. "Why would I do that?"

"I don't know, I don't know…" Alfred tightened his grip and Arthur grunted.

"You're going to kill me."

"But I don't want to let you go."

He was real. Arthur was definitely real. Alfred can feel him. Alfred knew it.

Arthur pushed him away and smiled, saying something but Alfred couldn't hear. Why wasn't Arthur making sound? He was toying with Alfred; how was he to know how to lip-read?

Alfred teased, "Come on, now, Arthur, I can't hear you."

Arthur's lips continued to move, then stopped, his forehead scrunching into a frown. He stared at Alfred, his lips moving more frantically now and coming closer.

Was he saying Alfred? What was he saying? Why did he look so frantic?

Then, he was falling…his vision was twisting, Arthur—Arthur, above him, calling—

~a~

Mr. Jones, Mr. Jones! Calm down. Take a deep breath, deep breath, that's right. Good, good.

Where's Arthur?

He's right here. You're all right.

Yeah…yeah. Arthur. Alfred squeezed his hand.

So you met him when you were in high school?

Alfred nodded. He didn't know if he did it for sure, though. Was this reality? He never knew.

How long have you known each other?

How…long… He didn't know. He really didn't know. He met him in high school…he was in high school…no, he was in college. Didn't he say he was working already?

He lived with Arthur. He lived with Arthur. It was real. They were real. No one could say Alfred was wrong anymore. Arthur was real.

'Alfred, come to your senses, honey. You're not right. You need to separate reality from your dreams. You live in reality. Not your dreams, dear. Now, listen to me—'

No, no. NO. They were wrong. They didn't know what was real. They were crazy. Not him, not him, not him!

—Jones, Mr. Jones! Arthur is right here; he's real. He's real. Don't worry. Don't listen to those other people. They don't understand.

Yeah…yeah. They didn't understand. They didn't know anything.

Good, good. Alfred—can I call you Alfred?—think. Think, where were you last with Arthur?

~a~

"We're fine," Arthur continued to murmur, his petting of Alfred's hair soothing the man. "We're fine."

"We'll be together," Alfred added.

"Yes…"

~a~

"Alfred! Golly, are you all right?"

"Haha! What are you talking about? Of course I am!"

Arthur wrapped both hands around Alfred's arm and tugged, pulling the larger boy up. "Don't scare me like that!"

"I'm sorry," Alfred said, a smile on his face. "I didn't mean to."

Arthur glared at him, but it soon melted into a distressed expression as he hugged Alfred. "Don't scare me like that…"

"I'm sorry," Alfred repeated, patting Arthur's back, smoothing his hair, anything reassuring.

Alfred, come back. You're wrong. This is real. We are real. See, you can feel us, our warmth.

"We're real," Alfred mumbled.

"Yes, we are…"

You need to separate them, Alfred.

~a~

The door closed and Matthew peeked around the corner to see Alfred leaning against the wall, pulling off his shoes.

"Welcome back," he said.

Alfred looked up, surprised. "Oh, hey! Didn't know you were there. Thanks."

Matthew watched as Alfred walked past him. "How…was your day with Arthur?"

"Splendid! I'm tired, since we walked around and stuff. I'ma go to sleep, 'kay, Mattie?"

Matthew had his mouth opened to ask another question, but he resignedly nodded and let Alfred head to bed.

When was he going to wake up?

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it was dark. He reached out an arm, reaching, reaching, was he reaching?

.

Arthur. Where was Arthur?