Childhood Beliefs

When he was a kid Alfred believed in a lot of things. All the superheroes on TV existed and were in disguise as their secret identities. Aliens lived among us and regularly came to visit from their different home planets. His favourite was his friend Tony, who only he could see because he was the only one clever enough to.

But there was one thing that he believed in above everything. And that was the fairy living in the little wood at the bottom of his street.

All the things the storybooks said about fairies were wrong. They didn't have glittering wings that sparkled in the moonlight, they didn't have little pointy ears that stuck up from their hair, and they definitely weren't the size of your thumb. Well, at least the one at the bottom of the street wasn't. But he did have the brightest green eyes that Alfred had ever seen, and he said he was a fairy, so that counted for something, right?

Every day, when it was just getting dark outside, but before he was called in for dinner, Alfred would wander down to that small group of trees to find the fairy-boy sitting in the centre, drawing patterns in the grass with a stick. Alfred figured that the fairy couldn't be any older than he was; he certainly looked around the same age anyway. But he was very neat and tidy. He always made sure that when they played together that he never got any dirt on his pristine clothes. He told Alfred that the drawings were a form of magic that when he was properly trained, would perform miracles for mere mortals.

One day Alfred had tried to tell his friends at school about the fairy but they had all laughed and called him a liar. He had ended up running out of school as soon as the bell went, disappearing into the trees instead of following his brother and his mom back to the house and there was the fairy, sitting there and drawing just as always. He had looked up with his amazingly green eyes, questioning what had happened and doing his best to comfort Alfred, because, after all, he did exist. He was right there.

Even when it started to get colder the fairy would be there when Alfred went to look. His clothes were still as clean as ever, despite the mud that had gathered under the trees from all the rain they had, though his short-sleeved shirts were replaced by thicker long-sleeved ones. He would stand at the foot of one of the trees, not daring to sully himself by sitting in the sludge on the ground, watching Alfred jump from puddle to puddle in his Wellington-boots, giggling furiously whenever the murky water would splash inside. But a drop never landed on the fairy's clothes. He said that was part of his magic.

Alfred didn't really know why he trusted this fairy boy so much. He didn't even know his name. But he was always there when Alfred had something to complain about and he always gave him those shy little smiles when he thought Alfred was being funny (though he would also scowl, his massive eyebrows furrowing, and shout at him when he was being stupid).

But about everything else, he was there for Alfred when his mom and dad started fighting and his dad ended up leaving and taking Mattie, his twin brother, with him. That day Alfred had felt more alone than ever before. It was like the whole world was against him and he just wanted to run away from it all. Matt had cried, his mom had cried, his dad shouted, and Alfred ran away. He didn't know where else to go but to the small clump of trees at the bottom of the street. He was too scared to go anywhere else. And he knew that someone would be there to comfort him when he got there.

Indeed, when he got there he almost fell into the fairy's arms and collapsed into tears. He felt stupid, like a pathetic little kid (because he wasn't little! He was the tallest in his class!). But the fairy hadn't laughed or jeered. He simply patted Alfred on the back, rubbing small circles until the sobs and hiccups stopped and Alfred could look up again knowing that there weren't any tears rolling down his face.

They had sat there for a long time, Alfred telling the fairy what had happened while it gradually got darker and darker. And after that they sat in silence until the sun had completely disappeared from over the trees. He could hear his mom calling for him to come out and go back for dinner. The fairy boy smiled, telling Alfred that he should go, but when Alfred stood to do so, he caught hold of his sleeve, still smiling his shy smile.

"I'll always be here, don't worry."

Alfred had beamed at him, giving the fairy's hand a squeeze before disappearing back out of the trees.

But, as so many other things, Alfred's happiness over this did not last.

It was some time after his parents had divorced, it was warmer outside again and Alfred could spend more time outside.

He went rushing back from school even faster to go and meet with the fairy boy, only to find, for the first time since he had met him, by an empty clearing in the trees. It was utterly deserted.

The same thing happened the next day and the day after that. And for the whole of the following week, until Alfred had all but given up hope on seeing him again. He had said that he would always be there, didn't he?

So, one evening, a week later, Alfred carried waiting. And waiting. And waiting. It started raining, but he carried on waiting. He had to come. He had to! The rain got harder, and he waited. It was nearly completely pitch black out and he stayed out there. And no one came.

Only after two hours had passed did Alfred finally give up and trudge back home, drenched to the bone, and feeling worse than he had ever felt before.

His mom scolded him for staying out like that, especially when he had to stay home from school for the next few days after catching a cold from the rain.

It got Alfred thinking. Maybe his friends had been right all those times before. Maybe he'd been wrong about the fairy the whole time. Maybe he didn't exist after all. And if that was true, then what about all the other things. What if Tony and all the other aliens weren't real either?

Gradually, he convinced himself of it. All those supernatural things were stupid and could never have been real. He wasn't a kid anymore and his beliefs had to grow up with him. He clung to the idea of superheroes for the longest, but when he reached high school, even that belief died.

He was popular at school, as always. The girls all liked him (or so he liked to think), and the guys seemed to crowd around him. He was on the football team, and was good at maths and science, despite how ridiculous he would act sometimes. He'd also gotten glasses.

Indeed, it was almost as if he had forgotten all about those times he'd spent with the 'fairy' boy all those years ago.

That is, until he saw that guy in the year above.

He walked around like he had a stick lodged up his ass, constantly frowning and carrying around some form of book. He was fairly short compared to the other guys, and didn't seem to have many friends. But, Alfred supposed, he was okay looking. His sandy blonde hair fell messily over his face and nearly hid the bright emerald green eyes that Alfred remembered so well.

He looked just like the fairy.

His friends called it his new obsession. He would constantly watch the older student whenever he would pass him in the corridors, never seeming to notice that Alfred existed. The guys would jeer and tell him he was in love with the loner of a senior, and it would only get worse when Alfred denied it and got flustered. So what if he was interested in the guy. They didn't know why he was so fascinated by him.

Then one evening, after practice had finished, he'd wandered back into the building to grab some stuff out of his locker when that guy came out of a classroom. He was alone, seemingly coming out of an empty room. He was placing a small sketchbook back into his bag when he noticed Alfred, freezing in his steps and just staring at him as if he'd seen a ghost.

And he ran. Turning on his heel and vanishing around the next corner, giving Alfred little time to think properly before he found himself chasing after him. And, naturally, being the fitter of the two, it wasn't long before Alfred had caught hold of the guy's wrist and was pulling him back.

"You're Arthur Kirkland, right?" He blabbered out, completely short of breath after running. He'd found out his name from one of his friends who'd been in a club with Arthur before.

He simply nodded, seemingly catching his breath as well. He was flushed bright red all the way to his ears, and most definitely not meeting Alfred's eyes.

"And you're the one from back then, aren't you?"

He didn't move, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor while Alfred stared at him unwaveringly.

"Aren't you?" Alfred shook him slightly, forcing him to make eye-contact.

"Yeah." He spoke so quietly that Alfred barely heard him, his eyes drifting away again as his face seemed to glow even darker.

A wave of relief seemed to flow over Alfred, and Arthur appeared to sense him relax and looked up at him, taken aback slightly by the soft smile on Alfred's features. "Thank God." He was almost as quiet as Arthur had been, though he was a lot more gentle, letting his hand slip from his wrist, down to encircle his hand. "I thought I was going crazy."

They spent the next few days truly finding out about each other, catching up on everything that had happened since Arthur had stopped going to the wood.

He was from England and his family lived in the next street over. They didn't really approve of him spending time playing outside and found out when he come back one evening with mud on his trousers from when he'd sat down under the trees and they had immediately banned him from spending any more time outside. By the time he had managed to sneak out again, Alfred had stopped showing up.

But when he'd found out that Alfred was going to be in the year below him at high school he had started looking out for him again. Taking rare glances to see what he was like now that so many years had passed. His sketchbook was filled with sketches of Alfred's practices out on the football field that he had watched from an empty classroom window.

In the following weeks Alfred spent more time with Arthur than his other friends, until eventually they stopped trying to get his attention at school. He was far too preoccupied. Even after school they walked back together, went their separate ways back to their houses, only to meet again later back under the trees.

"You know," Alfred stared up at the sky, resting his head on his hands, "I really thought you were real back then."

Arthur glanced over at him, giving him one of those incredulous looks that meant that he wasn't entirely impressed.

"A real fairy, I mean." Alfred laughed, groping around on the ground until he found Arthur's hand. "Kinda stupid, looking back on it."

"It wasn't." Arthur shuffled closer to where Alfred was lying. "I really liked pretending that I was. Besides, we were kids. We didn't know any better."

"I guess." Alfred said, sitting up, grinning away as usual. "I really liked those times."

"So did I."

Alfred moved so that they were looking at each other, the smile softening. "I like these times more."

Arthur smiled, pink flushing over his face as he squeezed Alfred's hand. "I suppose I do as well."

Notes:

Done for the USUK Summer Camp over on LiveJournal.

(Day 20 - Supernatural)

I liked this one so I thought that I'd upload it over here as well ^-^

I haven't really written young Alfred and Arthur before, so this was quite fun to do. I like to think that they were both really innocent kids, though Arthur had a stricter upbringing.