A strange man lunged at Arthur Kirkland. Arthur was frozen in terror, his freshly acquired cup of Earl Grey completely forgotten as he feared for his life. He was going to die and all he could think about was his little brother Alfred, how his boss would chew him out if he was late, and that blonde idiot Francis who wouldn't leave him alone at work. Arthur saw the barrel of the gun pointed at his chest, heard the sharp bang of it firing, and fully expected to bleed out on the floor like the soldiers in all the war movies he'd seen. Arthur threw himself to the floor in an attempt to save his life as a flash of brown, blonde, and gleaming silver streaked in front of him to attack his assailant. The silver disappeared for a moment before he heard a strangled yell and another gunshot, the bullet burying itself in the wall next to the one that had barely missed him moments before. His attacker fell to the ground, landing with a solid thud, and the gun clattered to the ground a few feet away.
Arthur looked up as his savior turned around. He quickly recognized the person as his younger brother. He jumped up and quickly ran to him.
"Alfred, you're a bloody hero!" he yelled joyfully.
He clutched the collar of the brown bomber jacket Alfred never took off as he tried to hug his brother, but was pushed away.
"Freddy?" Arthur said in concern, using his brother's childhood nickname.
It was unusual for Alfred to be quiet for more than 30 seconds at a time, and he had almost no concept of personal space. This was very unlike him. As annoying as Alfred was sometimes, Arthur would much rather have his immature, fun, burger-loving, loud brother back instead of this silent version of him.
"I'm not a hero. . ." Alfred whispered, staring at his hands in horror.
It was only then that Arthur realized that his brother's shaking hands clutched a knife that dripped crimson and his attacker was sprawled on the floor in a pool of blood, his eyes gazing lifelessly into the distance.
"God, Alfred, what did you do?" Arthur asked quietly.
Blue eyes behind thinly framed glasses slowly turned to look at Arthur. Alfred sank to his knees and squeezed his eyes shut.
"I killed a man. . ." he whispered.
Arthur couldn't argue with that so he just sat next to his sibling and stroked his shoulders while Alfred struggled to control his sobs.
To be continued