There was a sense of urgency in the other's eyes, but he paid no mind to it. Nothing mattered at this point, not really in the sense he was thinking about. He was done with all of it. Everything, the jobs, the social life, the stress, and the high expectations to be someone he was not. He wanted his life to be like a notebook, where he could rip out a page, toss it aside where it would lay crumpled under the window and start writing his life anew. Of course, this was not a possibility. Not for him at least.

Sometimes it was easy, being as old as he was and looking as young as he did. People often took his whimsical ideas as the hopes and dreams of a young man who had not yet tasted the bitterness of life, but of course he had tasted the bitterness, it was a flavor he was well acquainted with. His feet carried him down the old wooden dock, which curved along the oceanside. Across the ocean, so many miles away, was where he was. That was his home, on the lonely little island of his, disconnected from everything. He knew that he would not return, not for a long time, not after what he had said. He was a father, a brother, a friend, a lover, and now, to add to that list, an estranged acquaintance whom he didn't even know well anymore.

He was at the part of the boardwalk that reached out into the deeper part of the sea. It would be so simple, just to leave, and he wasn't even sure if it would work. Could people like him even die? Prussia certainly wasn't dead, but then again there s no manual for this sort of thing. What they were, what he was, it was complicated. But if he did step off and drift to sleep amidst the icy waves, and did not go on, what would happen? Would being stuck at the bottom of the water, in the dark and all alone, be worth it? To sit days, weeks, centuries under the ocean's welcoming embrace.

The other was behind him now, calling his name, asking him to return, but he had made up his mind. He took one more step and his world tilted forward, the waves bringing him closer to the ocean's floor, where the kind heart of the large body of water greeted him. The glittering harbor lights shown into the waves, sparkling as they did, in a lullaby. It did not take long, to drift off into oblivion, into darkness, and into peace.j

Someone was calling his name with a familiar voice, but the name of that voice escaped him. He liked it when it was quieter, the quiet was always better than the constant stream of voices, but the voice persisted, and it was not angry, so he began to listen to some of its words.

"Of everything you did before this, anything else you could have done. Why did you choose this? I almost miss your angry tantrums, your defiance sparkling in your eyes. Please, don't leave just yet. I'm sorry." The voice finished, breaking off in a high pitch that must mean something. If he could have moved, he would have frowned, before he placed where it was from. The shaking in the voice, it meant it was sad, crying even. Why was it crying?

Alfred tried to speak, to move, to open his eyes, but his body would not respond to him. He was frozen in place, unable to do anything to comfort the voice. Where did he know the voice from? Surely, it was from somewhere, but he still could not grasp where he knew it from. Then the voice continued to speak in the sad tone.

"I know we've had our differences, especially that long stretch of battles in our pasts, but that's where those differences should remain. In the past. And I know all this is my fault, my doing, you were reaching out for help all that time, and now….."

The voice drifted off into silence. Alfred thought he felt a hand grasp his limp one, it was warm and strong, and familiar. He tried to will his hands to move, to grasp the other hand, he wanted to tell the voice that everything was ok. It would all be ok, they didn't have to worry about him, letting go was not hard, or painful. Still, something nagged in the back of his mind, and Alfred knew he could not leave the voice, the person, like this, distraught and guilty. It wasn't right. His finger twitched slightly, and he became excited for a moment at the thought of his limbs obeying his command.

"Alfred?" The voice asked, and Alfred identified it as male, yes that was correct. But who was it? He was becoming frustrated that names eluded him. Still, he twitched his finger again, this time moving it to hook around the other hands pointer finger. The strange hand grasped him back.

"Come on, Alfred, you can fight it. You can wake up." The voice encouraged him, and he began to fight back the blackness of sleep, of oblivion, forcing his mind slowly out of the fog it had walked into.

His whole hand squeezed back to the stranger's hand, then slowly the rest of his body began to respond, to wake up and react to his commands. His blue eyes slowly opened and fixed on the stranger by his bedside. While his vision was blurry, he was able to make out blond hair and green…yes that was the color, green eyes. The green eyes were wide and looking into his now clearing vision, the name of the stranger came back to Alfred as well.

"Arthur." His voice was barely audible, barely distinguishable from the whispering of the air conditioner, but it was there, and the other seemed to understand it.

"I'm here, Alfred, don't worry."

Alfred frowned, something was telling him he should be upset with Arthur, but all he could recall was the other's name. Surely, the rest would return to him soon, he fought back the remaining blackness in his mind, trying desperately to reach the memories.

"Do you know where you are, Alfred? Do you remember what you did?" What you did, the words echoed in Alfred's mind, bringing back the feeling of being reprimanded. It was an accusatory sentence, he thought, something used when he did something bad.

"I was bad?" Alfred made out, still confused on his surroundings. A room with sparse furniture and a weird bed. Why did it have rails? Why was it so hard to concentrate on everything?

"No," Arthur chuckled, Alfred noted that there was water brimming on the edge of the other's eyes, and he fought hard to figure out what that meant. The word tears came in response to Alfred's thought, and he knew that they happened when the other was unhappy, sad.

"I am sorry." Alfred told Arthur, somehow feeling like he had said these words to the other many times in the past. Arthur shook his head; that meant no Alfred remembered.

"You don't need to be sorry. I'm so glad you're awake, I'm going to get a doctor." Arthur said, he stood from the bed and panic filled Alfred. He remembered the feeling of being alone, and also that he used to hate it.

"No, I don't want to be alone. Here," Alfred squeezed the hand, trying to pull it towards him, but his arm was weak and could not accomplish the task. "Please." He pleaded, the last words coming out with a whimper. He didn't want to be alone here, in this room, in a place he didn't know, it was cold and unwelcoming.

"It's ok, I'm not going anywhere." Arthur sat back down, and Alfred relaxed a little.

"Where am I?" Alfred asked of the strangely familiar man before him. He could not, however, pin any exact memories of him. Just a name and a face.

"The hospital." Came the response.

"Hospital." Alfred tried out, not liking the metallic taste the word left on his tongue.

"Yes, you nearly drowned a couple of days ago." Arthur explained. Alfred remembered the ocean, the loving embrace it gave him, the friendship it offered. Drowned seemed too harsh a word to describe it.

"How do I know you?" Alfred asked the other, noticing the hurt expression on the other as the words passed out of his mouth.

"That, I'm afraid, is a rather complicated story." Arthur told him after many moments of silence. Alfred was starting to hate silence, and the darkness he'd been in. Oblivion, blankness, it was not worth it if meant being alone. Nothing was in that case.

"Ok. You should be," Alfred paused, trying to put his feelings to words, "Angry with me, right? I feel like you are angry with me for something."

"You are right, somewhat, I was angry with you. But that is all in the past now."

"You don't hate me?"

"You can make some stupid decisions sometimes, but no, I do not hate you. I couldn't." Arthur responded. Alfred nodded, but the movement was lessened, as his eyes were drifting closed once more, he was so very tired and the solitude of sleep called to him. He fought it, but it inevitably won, but he promised he would return to the other. He was not quite ready to leave anymore, not with Arthur so sad.

Arthur watched Alfred's eyelids drift close, and felt the loosening in his grasp, knowing that sleep was once again overcoming him. He remembered the doctor mentioning possible brain damage, but that was impossible, surely people like the two of them co

uldn't get brain damage? Perhaps it was temporary, and his defiant and self-assured little hero would return once more. He could only hope.

Memories of a past long gone, gave him pause, renewing the feelings he'd once felt, or perhaps that he always felt but kept stored away. It was his fault, after all, that Alfred was like this. As easy as it had been to lead up to this point, surely it would be easy to fix the pieces back into the bigger picture. He kept his hand in Alfred's, but his gaze moved out the window and he indulged the past memories, if only to escape for a moment into the better days of the past.

The Past

Arthur looked out at the water, where the waves were crashing against the boat's side. He grimaced when he realized he would soon reach his destination, and he would have to make his decision about Alfred. He could not bear to see the colony so distraught over something, even if the reasoning was ridiculous, because it made him hurt too. If there was some way he could change the events that led up to this dispute then perhaps things would be different. No, he reminded himself, this would always happen. He would always want to leave, to live on his own, it was all temporary.

He clenched the handle of his sheathed sword, trying to rid his thoughts of the accursed word. Temporary, his feelings were temporary, everything. All temporary. No, he wouldn't let himself think that it would always be like this, their conversations filled with anger and confusion. Surely, it would all right itself in the end, and Alfred would get past his little rebellious stage, and come live with him again. At home, together, they were always happier when he was younger. Always.

A few hours later, the ship drew anchor a ways from the harbor. Arthur told his crew to stay put and not engage in other ships unless they were attacked first, then he climbed into the small wooden dinghy and began rowing to shore. All the while, thoughts of what he would do when he found Alfred, what he would say, were buzzing around in his head. He figured it would be easier once he was there, in the same room, and he could read Alfred's expressions the way he could not in the case of letters.

The beach that he pulled up on was uninhabited, and so it was easy to sneak into the line of trees and make his way down the back alleys of the city. It was rather easy to find the house he was looking for, mainly because it sat on a cliff, overlooking the sea and the beach he had come from. He knew that if were to appear at the front door, Alfred would push him away, like he always did. So he instead made his way around the side of the house, climbing into the open window in the back. Arthur found himself in a bedroom, unlit except for the small beams of moonlight.

Someone was in the bed, he noted, and froze in his place,for fear that they had heard him and would awaken. But they did not stir, and the only sound they made was the soft breathing of sleep. He walked over to the bed, realizing he knew that messy blonde hair and the glint of glasses on the bedside table thatwere reflecting the moonlight. When he came around to the side facing away from the window, he confirmed his suspicion that it was, in fact, Alfred who was peacefully sleeping in the bed. He regretted the thought of having to waken the peaceful slumber that Alfred had seemed to find, but what he needed to talk about could not wait.

"Alfred." Arthur whispered, leaning over and gently brushing his hand along the other's shoulder.

Alfred's eyes shot open, and in a flash, he was on top of Arthur, sword drawn and being held against his throat. It took a few moments, but Arthur saw the slow fading of dreams from those big, blue eyes, and recognition flooded the other's face.

"Arthur?" Alfred asked, looking astonished at seeing him in person, and torn on what to do.

"Yes, it's me." Arthur told him.

"I should kill you." Alfred responded, looking him dead in the eyes, the seriousness of his tone causing Arthur to flinch.

"Go ahead then." He told him, looking him back with an accepting stare. If this is what he chose to do, then Arthur's conscience would be clear. He had attempted to tell him, and that is what counted, should these minutes show to be his last.

Alfred seemed to consider the sword in his hand, running his other hand along the polished blade, "It would be easy, it would end this war, I would win." He continued, his gaze drifting back to Arthur's.

"I know. I won't stop you if that is what you choose to do." Arthur whispered, more out of grave acceptance than the effort to keep quiet from the rest of the house's inhabitants.

"How did you know I'd be here?" Alfred asked him, his grip on the sword slackening.

"You forget how well I know you." Arthur told the other. Alfred considered him, before the sword clashed to the ground.

"No, I don't forget. Not with things that deal with you. You would use the forgotten knowledge to win our battles, our war." Alfred straightened his back, but did not lose eye contact with Arthur, who flinched at the distant, unfeeling tone in his voice.

"I didn't come here to chat about me," Arthur paused, noting that Alfred had not moved from his straddling position on top of him, "Rather I came to apologize for the last time we met."

"You can't apologize for that, you didn't do anything wrong." Alfred responded, the curious light that Arthur knew so well coming to shine in his eyes.

"I wanted to make peace with myself."

"You could have done that in a letter, why come all the way over in person?" Alfred persisted with his questions, just like he always did. At this point, Arthur couldn't help but notice that Alfred was in nothing but a thin, white shirt and his small clothes, not that he would mention the otherwise indecency.

"I needed to see you." The response came out before Arthur could stop them. The other blinked, staring at him, something else glittering in those eyes.

"You needed to see me?" Alfred asked, leaned closer, his boyish smirk now present on his soft lips.

"Yes, I missed you." Arthur responded, trying to slow the heartbeat in his chest and his unstable breathing. Alfred's hands settled on either side of his head, and as the other leaned closer, the tips of the blonde hair tickled Arthur's forehead.

"This is wrong, we are enemies in the same war." Alfred whispered in a low voice, his blue eyes still wary and searching for deceit.

"It doesn't have to be this way. Come home, please?" Arthur's voice cracked at the end, letting the pleading of his heart escape with the words. Alfred did not respond with words, instead he held his gaze and shook his head just slightly.

Suddenly, Alfred kissed him, pressing him further to the floor, before breaking it and saying, "I've missed you as well."

The change of subject did not irk Arthur, as he was focused on trying to control his ragged breathing when Alfred broke their lips. Arthur grinned in the dark that was the room, and sat up, his hands brushing the other's legs as he delivered the second kiss. This one deep, and long, filled with passion and heat. Arthur found his hands trailing up the other's shirt, exploring his strong, youthful back. He broke the kiss for a moment to push Alfred to the floor, it was his turn to straddle the other, after which he went back, delivering fervent kisses to the other's lips, neck, and collarbone. Alfred groaned under him, his hands reaching to tug at the straps that held his coat in place.

Arthur chuckled, assisting in the disrobing, and tossing both his shirt and coat aside. If he were to be undressing, then surely the other should be too, Arthur smirked, quickly tearing off the other's shirt before Alfred could protest. In exchange with the heated kisses, Arthur trailed his hands down the firm abdomen, tracing the well exercised muscles, following with a trail of kisses, falling down Alfred's chest to hover above his hips. He blew teasingly on the cloth that was covering Alfred's manhood, eliciting a deep, needy groaned from his partner. Good, so he had made the right assumption in coming here personally, it seemed Alfred had missed him as much as he had.

Alfred's hands, which had been previously going through his hair and trailing along his pants line, began tugging at the belt that held Arthur's pants up. When Alfred's fingers pressed against his pants, Arthur could not maintain the groan that came out. He pressed Alfred's hands to the ground, making him immobile.

"Not just yet, I'm not done having fun with you." Arthur murmured, leaning over to gently graze his teeth across Alfred's nipples, before teasingly licking them.

"Please…" Stuttered his partner, and he chuckled again at Alfred's youthful impatience, left over from his childhood.

"What is it?" Arthur teased, moving so that he was able to leave a trail of kisses along the line of the other's undergarments. Alfred shuddered beneath him, which was not caused by the open window letting in the cool night breeze.

"I…" Alfred began, but his words turned into a groan when Arthur placed his hand on the growing bulge, carefully massaging it through the fabric. The other bucked his hips, his need for a faster pace evident in his expression.

"Yes?" Arthur continued, taking his hand away to pull away the now offending fabric. At seeing how much Alfred had missed him, truly, Arthur could not hold back the broader smirk. He placed a soft, almost nonexistent kiss atop Alfred's head, before pulling back and undoing his buckle, standing momentarily to completely disrobe for his partner. When he was finished, he began once more with an onslaught of kisses, to distract his partner from his finger sliding inside his hot, and rather tight, core. Of course, the other noticed, which caused him to hungrily kiss his partner, running his hands through his hair, and clutching at his shoulders when Arthur added another finger and started to move them so as to try and loosen him up a bit. God, was he tight, and hot, and Arthur could barely contain his own need to be inside his partner.

"Pp…please…I nneed…" Alfred began again, although he seemed unable to finish his thought as Arthur started moving his fingers slowly in and out in a fluid motion.

"What is it you need, dear one?" Arthur pressed his unoccupied hand to the other's back, pulling him upwards so that his need was pressed against Alfred's stomach.

"You." Was all Alfred as able to manage, his breathless kisses making Arthur's patience thin considerably.

"I know." Arthur removed his fingers, before positioning himself above Alfred, and pressing inside. His partner was still very tight, and he waited a moment before he started his slow, deliberate movements. God, he felt so good, so tight, and so damn hot. Alfred moved so that his knees were hugging Arthur's side, in an attempt to fasten the pace. Arthur let out a low, almost growl-like, sound and began pumping faster, his deliberation and consistent pace fading away, until he was fast at it, rubbing Alfred's need as he went faster and faster. The pace was now ragged and unstable, Arthur sensed the tipping point in his partner, kissing him as suddenly Alfred came with a delighted sigh, spilling himself on the two lovers. Arthur was not far behind, following his partner a few pumps later, his seed filling the other, which elicited another pleased moan from his partner. Arthur pulled out and collapsed on his lover, gently kissing his forehead, before rolling over to lay beside him.

Alfred moved to lay on his side, his heavy lidded eyes finding Arthur's, before his eyes slid closed and he fell into a peaceful sleep.

"I must go, but remember, I will always be there when you need me to. Always, every time, as long as I am able I will," Arthur whispered and then in an even softer tone, "I do love you, lad, I always have and I'm beginning to see I always will. Goodnight, love."

He became aware that he was taking too long and that his crew would be suspicious. Careful not to waken Alfred, he picked him up and settled him onto the bed. He then draped a blanket over his sleeping partner, giving him a soft kiss on the forehead as he did so, before gathering his clothes and redressing. Just before he left, he set the letter he'd written yesterday on the bed. He knew that doing so admitted that Alfred was right, that he was owed some independence, and the letter would give it all to him and for once the thought of Alfred leaving him for good did not bring his arrogant pride to mind, only the happiness for Alfred. With one last glance to the sleeping man on the bed, Arthur climbed out of the window and slipped back into the night to return to his crew and tell them they'd lost the war.

Well, there you have it. Would you be surprised if I told you this was her FIRST yaoi? I know, I know, I was surprised too to be honest. So if you liked this story as much as I do, leave a review! Or send her a pm yourself, her name is glitterdreamer95 and don't be afraid to say I told her so! Disclaimer, if you do send a PM directly to her account her stories are full of fluf, but trust me she is the author of this story. She gave me permission to post this AND she didn't believe me when I said I was going to. ^w^