A/N: Alright, this is the last (planned) story in the "His Last Vow" series, unless you guys have any suggestions as to what to write about. This was… not the direction I was originally planning for it to go, but, well, my lovely muse made me do this. (Also, a lot of people wanted Alfred to show up…) With that, here is our last installment. (I own nothing)

Arthur Kirkland, 18, stared down at his book. It was his first year of college, and he had midterms approaching, but he just couldn't focus.

Maybe a nap.

He glanced at the clock.

Yeah. A quick nap won't hurt.

Before he knew it, he was asleep.

Arthur looked around. "Where am I?" Taking a closer look at his surroundings, he realized he knew exactly where he was. It was a playground, at a very familiar elementary school. As he drank in the sights, a bell rang, and children streamed out from the doors, laughing and playing. He saw two familiar kids come out, one running, the other walking.

"Cool, isn't it?" Arthur turned slowly, not believing his ears. It wasn't. It couldn't be. This wasn't real. It had to be a dream. Because there was no way that he had just heard that old, heartbreakingly familiar voice. "It's like having your memories on DVD. You can watch them all the time, whenever you want to."

It was. Arthur turned, and it was him. Alfred , still sixteen, with his old grin and bomber jacket he had always worn.

"Wha-how- no. No, no, no, no, NO! This isn't real, it's a dream, you're DEAD, I saw your BODY!" Arthur said, his voice escalating to a broken shout.

Alfred shrugged. "Yes. I'm dead. But you were always the one who believed in the paranormal stuff and the wandering spirits and everything."

Arthur looked at him again, not believing his eyes. "Why? Why now, why here... why?"

Alfred looked at him in the eyes, with maturity and wisdom that Arthur had never seen before in Alfred's face. "Because you need to move on."

"What?"

"You need to move on, so I can move on. You're keeping me here Artie."

Arthur looked at him, shocked. "But, how? How do you expect me to just move on?"

Alfred gestured. "I'll show you."

They walked over to a corner that Arthur remembered well. It was where he had spent his entire first week of fourth grade, sitting, reading, not wanting to make conversation with the "strange, loud, Americans". Arthur looked over to see Alfred smiling nostalgically.

"Here, watch. Remember this?"

A young Arthur sat in the corner, a book in hand as he tried to avoid all of the other kids running around. He hadn't wanted to move across an ocean, hadn't wanted to have to make all new friends, and certainly hadn't wanted to deal with the loud Americans that seemed very strange and alien to the small 10 year-old.

"Hiya!" Arthur looked up, and saw a boy, around his age, with messy golden blond hair, and a wide, gap-toothed smile. "What'cha doin' over here all by yourself?" the strange boy inquired.

"I'm reading," the young Arthur replied, his accent very pronounced. The adult Arthur gave a nostalgic grimace at how strong his accent had been back then, and remembered how he had gotten teased for it.

"Why're you doing that? Recess is for playing, you can read inside!" The young Alfred, for it had been Alfred, reached out his hand for the other boy to grab. Young Arthur hesitated for a moment, but then reached up and grabbed it.

"Alright. B-but only 'cause I'm at the end of a chapter! I could have found some people to play with on my own!"

Young Alfred grinned. "Well then good timing for me then, huh? Now let's go, the evil Russians are attacking, and the hero needs a sidekick!"

Young Arthur gave the other boy a look, like he was concerned for his sanity (a look that would be repeated much over the years). "Hero?" he asked.

"Yeah!" the young boy said. "I'm the Hero!"

Adult Arthur looked at the scene of now bittersweet memories. It had been Alfred and Arthur's first meeting, and one that had sparked a long friendship.

"Aw, now don't go looking so sad. These are the happy times!" the adult, no, not adult, never adult, Alfred said.

Arthur frowned. "I don't know if I want to keep doing this."

"You have to Arthur," Alfred said, that foreign look of maturity back on his face.

Arthur nodded, sighing. "Alright, if you say so."

The scene around them broke away into fog, and reformed in the halls of their middle school. The two watched as, again, the bell rang, and kids came streaming out of classes, talking pushing, laughing, and generally being middle school students.

"Hey Artie!" came a shout from down a hallway, unmistakably Alfred. He caught up to Arthur, grinning. The older Arthur suddenly remembered Alfred's "braces years", sixth through eighth grade.

"I've told you not to call me that! And do you have to be so loud? You caught up quick enough." The older Arthur cringed at his younger self's irritated tone. Did he always talk to Alfred like that?

"Okay Arthur. Hey, let's get to lunch, I need to get the good table!"

"And why is that?"

Alfred grinned again, showing off his red, white, and blue braces. "'Cause I'm the Hero!"

"Fine," the younger Arthur said, looking irritated. "You're so immature," he muttered.

Older Arthur frowned, wanting to wipe the look off his younger self's face. Cherish these moments! he wanted to yell. You won't have him forever… But of course, it was a memory.

As the scene began to fade, Arthur again turned to Alfred. "I can't keep doing this. It-it's too-" He gestured, unable to put into words his feelings. Again. said a small voice in his head. You never could. And when you did, all you did was hurt people.

Alfred nodded, and the scene seemed to… zoom out. Now it looked like a movie screen. They stood watching as the memories started to move faster.

"Hey Alfred, what are you doing? You do know how to work this, right?"

"Uh-oh, Alfred's in line, no more food for us, guys!"

""Jeez, you're so stupid Alfred. Let me do it."

Arthur watched as all the comments flew by. Only one thought went through his head.

How'd I miss this? Why didn't this bother me? Oh..

Alfred's voice, just starting to break, interrupted the stream of insults. "Aw, don't worry. It doesn't matter. I'm the Hero, remember?"

Then, it was the scene Arthur had dreaded.

"You're just too, too, immature. It's getting annoying. Just, I don't know, you can make some new friends. We just don't share the same interests anymore. Just, please stay away until you grow up a bit."

Alfred, ninth grade this time, stood like a statue, hurt splashed across his face at the words of his best friend. But then he smiled, albeit sadly, and replied.

"It's fine. I'll be okay. I'm the Hero."

Arthur watched as the memories flashed by faster, Alfred slowly drifting away, everyone slowly leaving. But he kept smiling. Brushing everything off with his "It's okay, I'm the Hero." How didn't I notice.

Always still smiling.

Al never used to smile with his mouth closed.

And then...then it was that night, the night on the phone, and Arthur couldn't take it. He couldn't watch as his best friend called him, reaching out, and he had pushed him away and dismissed him.

And he saw Alfred pick up the phone with shaking hands.

He saw him leave his message.

He saw him crying afterwards.

He saw him pick up the pills.

And he heard him say it, his last words on Earth.

And they broke his heart.

"I guess I couldn't be the Hero after all…"

And he watched him fall, bottle and phone in hand.

"You know I was half-hoping you'd call back." Alfred said, finally speaking again. Arthur couldn't look at him. "But I guess it wasn't to be."

"Al-" Arthur broke off. What could he even say? This wasn't even real, for all he knew.

"I know Artie," Alfred said, smiling. "I know. But I need you to do something. I need you to move on."

"M-Move ON?! Is that why you showed me that? To get me to MOVE ON?! How did that help at all?!"

"It helped you to see what happened. So you could face it. And now, you need to move on. I'm not saying forget me. But Arthur," Alfred looked up, and he suddenly looked older, more mature than the 16 he would remain forever. "I'm tired. So tired. I want to move on. Please. Can you do that for me?"

Arthur looked at him. He pulled him into a hug, and whispered fiercely into his ear.

"You were always my Hero. I just missed it."

When they pulled away, Alfred's eyes were glistening. "Bye Artie. Like I said, I better not see you again for a while."

Arthur nodded, and felt himself slipping away.

Arthur woke up at his desk slowly.

What…?

He shook his head. He must have had some weird dream. he couldn't remember much, but he felt more… at peace. More so than he had in a long time. As he sat back in his chair, eyes closing in thought, one, lone phrase from his dream flashed through his head.

Thank you.

A/N: Well, there it is folks. All done. Unless you have suggestions. Leave a review!