He was 23, and he hated himself so, so much- so, so terribly much.

He was 23, and he wanted to die.

He was 23, and it was 2012, and things were supposed to be getting better in Afghanistan. He had graduated with honors only two years ago, before signing into the army to repay them back for paying for his tuition.

But he was 23, and when he had been 21, all the stars had been in his eyes, but now he just saw them in the dead, the dead of his fallen friends and comrades, in words that had filled the air only moments before, breaths never to be taken again.

They were dead, and Alfred knew that they didn't deserve it.

There was a disembodied hand that was in front of him, blasted off of someone from the car. It identified the person it had belonged to easily enough- the wedding ring on its finger telling him it had been Thomas, the 30 something year old corporal, their leader, who had only two more months before he would be on leave with his wife and three daughters.

"Private Jones!" Someone was yelling at him. "Private Jones, snap out of it! They're dead, we have to get out of here or we'll be dead too!"

"Oh god. It should have been us, oh god." His own voice sounded so distant, the ringing in his ears might be a part of that. "That IED would have hit us if we hadn't had stalled earlier… I should be dead, not…not…"

"Private Jones!"

"Leave him!" Another voice was screaming- though not at Alfred. "He wants to die, than let him! We need to get out of the open!"

"For Christ's sake!" The first voice snapped back. "I'm in charge here now that Corporal Thomas is dead! And I say anyone who is still alive is coming back with us, alive! So I'm not leaving Jones here!"

And the decision, the ability to die was ripped away from Alfred as he felt his world go upside down, being heaved onto the lieutenant's shoulder, his body hanging limply from the other man.

He stared back at the hand, limp, the wedding band reminding how the Corporal would twist it when talking about plans, going home, why he was still here…

And Alfred cried. He cried and cried and cried and cried.

XXXX

Twisting, writhing, moaning, Alfred's face crumpled in pain and anguish, and Arthur stared helplessly at him the first time it happened. They had gone to sleep the night before, and it was sometime in the middle of the night that Arthur had woken up to this…

He didn't know what this even was.

Alfred's shaking was only getting harder- what had Alfred done for him when he was shaking? Given him medication, and held him, right? And that had mostly made Arthur feel better.

So Arthur swallowed uncertainty, and wrapped his arms around Alfred's torso, causing the human to abruptly stiffen, and made Arthur pause and temporarily release Alfred, only to have the human scream to life, looking sightlessly at the ceiling and sitting up fully in the bed.

Alfred wasn't looking at him as his pupils constricted in fright. He wasn't looking at anything at all. It was bizarre, and Arthur neither understood it or had any knowledge of why he was doing this. The snake man put a gentle hand on Alfred's shoulder, seeing the flinch but knowing it was not because Alfred was scared of him, but rather, something only Alfred could see, and wrapped his arms around him.

"Shhhhh…Alfred, shhh…" Arthur purred, the shhh sound drawn out as he nuzzled his pack mate. "It's me, Arthur…come on, let's go back to sleep. You're safe- you're safe."

Alfred looked at him a bit, slowly relaxing as Arthur rubbed his back and nuzzled him, his crazed blue eyes loosing the maddened look, and drooping in obvious sleepiness.

Arthur laid back down with him, cuddling him gently as Alfred seemed to suddenly need to cling on him.

And that was how it started.

XXXXX

There was a lot about Alfred that Arthur didn't know about- and Alfred was perfectly fine with that being the status quo of their relationship.

The months that were spent while Arthur was asleep, it was easy enough to ignore his old PTSD diagnosis, and let the shadows climb around him- but not overtake him, since Arthur needed to be cared for.

"Private Jones!" "LEAVE HIM!" "Why'd the nut's car get lucky and the corporal's car get blown to bits?" "Lieutenant" "Corporal Thomas wasn't supposed to die! He had a wife, and kids! All I have for me is a brother I never knew and a father who left me before he even knew me!" "LIEAUTENANT, THEY'VE DIED, LEAVE THEM!" "He is alive!"

However, they had grown, and multiplied, and threatened to swallow Alfred whole.

"Why are you taking those pills?" Arthur asked, innocuously enough. "Are you sick?"

Alfred frowned at him, looking away in guilt. "Well. Sort of." He admitted. He felt like such a coward for not wanting to explain it to Arthur. But Arthur- he had only seen Alfred as a strong person, not someone who was capable of…

He felt sick to his stomach, his breakfast threatening to make a second appearance, at the thought.

However, the mix of pills he had from his time in the military had been meant to help. He hadn't taken them in a few years, since he hadn't needed to, so…maybe it would help get this under control again?

Of course it wouldn't. Alfred knew from experience that these pills just didn't sit well with him. However, he didn't really want to go to another doctor.

He swallowed the pills with a big glass of orange juice, smiling at Arthur half-heartedly, going to change his bandages on the stubborn cuts, and rub some cream on his burns, to assist in making them fade.

Alfred didn't look back to see Arthur's confused, uncertain look directed at him.

XXXXX

Whatever was in those pills, Arthur didn't like them.

They made Alfred sad, and quiet. Yes, they made the stutters go away when Alfred spoke, but it was because Alfred stopped speaking. Yes, the 'nightmares' went away, but it was only because the terror was always in the back of Alfred's eyes, and there was never relief.

He didn't know why Alfred took them, but it just seemed so counterproductive, since they seemed to draw all the life out of him, and left him as a shell of who he normally was.

It was like Alfred stopped caring about anything while he was on them.

That was why one day; Arthur hid them from him- simply taking them out of the cabinet and putting the bottles elsewhere.

Alfred looked lost when he examined the cabinet that night before bed, squinting as he tried to figure out where they had gone.

"Arthur, did you move them…?" He asked, confused, voice deadened and hollow. Arthur shook his head, this being the first real conversation they had had in over a week, and he wasn't going to say anything, angry and upset with Alfred, and the first time Alfred had mentioned the medication to him in almost a month.

He was hurting, and so he refused to dignify his alpha with anything until he was brought into the loop.

Alfred examined him with sad blue eyes, seeming to search for something in him, before something seemed to click in him for a moment, and he nodded, looking away. "I-I…I see…" He murmured, walking off in his slow, trudging footsteps.

XXXXX

They made the pain go away, just as they had before, but they made everything go away with it- suddenly nothing mattered, once again.

Time blurred together, people blurred together, until one morning Alfred thought he woke up in the middle of a rural town, Afghani men asking if he were alright, if he needed someone, had he been shot…etc., but once he snapped out of the hallucination, he realized he was at home, with Arthur.

His pills were gone- that's right.

Maybe that's why the hallucination of waking up in that Afghani town was there again.

The last time he had been there was when he had OD'd himself, and somehow, survived it. The old man he had me that day- what had he said to him?

It was dark outside. The clock said 12 AM, and Alfred's skin felt like it was on fire.

He started to pace, as the thoughts in his head grew in strength, and power.

Why wasn't Arthur here?

That was right, he hadn't come to bed that night…maybe he had left. It would make sense; since Alfred was weak, Alfred was a poor lover, he felt dead inside because of the medication, and he imaged Arthur found it distasteful.

He didn't blame him for finding him distasteful. Alfred hated himself- surely Arthur would too.

"How come you survived, you sack of shit!"

Alfred didn't know.

"You didn't deserve it!"

Alfred knew that.

Why are you wasting life like this?

He didn't know.

You have a gun.

That, that he knew…

You can end it- your meaningless existence.

Alfred felt tears dripping down his face.

"If he wants to die, let him!"

Corporal Thomas' hand sitting in front of him, disembodied, the wedding ring still on it.

"I…I want to die…." Alfred sobbed, and lay on his bed for a few minutes longer, before he pulled himself together, feeling like all the happiness in his world had been taken from him, and he himself was a shell of Alfred.

XXXXX

Arthur hadn't gone to their shared bedroom that night, refusing now that he knew could get an upper hand in this. He didn't respond to Alfred's calls for him that night, ignoring how they sounded so terribly lonely and upset. He could wait this out. He deserved to know the truth, and not be given lies by Alfred.

And so he waited him out. Arthur remained in his hiding place, and slept lightly.

Something woke him during the night, and he recognized it as Alfred's trudging footsteps across the house. Alfred was moving, and it was strange to Arthur, since the human usually slept though the night, pardoning nightmares, and even when he had nightmares, he didn't get up and move around.

Arthur watched as Alfred trudged along with his head down and eyes at the floor.

He had gone to the bathroom, and shut the door.

However, Arthur's blood had run cold.

Why was Alfred holding a gun?

That was something Arthur knew the meaning of- it meant death. It was dangerous- it was easy to kill with it, but there wasn't anyone in the bathroom, was there?

He slithered over to the door, and opened it a smidge, to look inside.

Alfred didn't seem to notice him at first, the gun in his lap.

"You saw how he looked at you." Alfred was mumbling. "He hates you. Weak. Disgusting. They wouldn't need all those pills, so why do you, Alfred?"

Arthur felt his stomach drop- what was Alfred going on about? He didn't understand- this wasn't like him; it wasn't natural for someone to want to die at their own hand, was it? Arthur didn't understand this at all. He was upset at being lied to, not because Alfred was weak!

"Arthur thinks I'm weak too." He hiccupped, and it was obvious now that he had been crying. "I am weak, though… He deserves better than me…He's left me… I didn't deserve to live, why did I…? And not… Arthur deserves someone that's not this way."

Alfred lifted the gun, but to Arthur's horrified surprise, it was to his own temple.

What was this? What was his human doing?!

"Alfred, just take the shot." The human cried, his voice thick with upset even as he tried to encourage himself, his body shaking. "You deserve to be dead- they all deserve better than you. This world would be a better place…"

The gun shook in Alfred's hand, before it dropped, and Alfred sobs began in earnest. "Dammit!" He cried out. "I can't do it!" He curled on himself, covering his face with his hands.

"Alfred…?" Arthur's voice finally found itself, and Alfred stiffened suddenly, jerking his head towards the naga, his eyes bloodshot and filled with tears, his face gaunt and mouth moving wordlessly. "What were you doing…?"

Alfred kept staring, tears dripping from his chin, unable to answer Arthur, and Arthur pushed the door open, and came inside, despite how Alfred curled into himself. "Alfred, answer me. What were you doing?" Arthur demanded, and blocked Alfred from the gun.

Alfred didn't say anything, tears still dripping down his face.

Arthur softened, seeing as the hard approach was getting him nowhere. "Alfred, please, let me help…I don't know what's wrong, I don't know what to do…I don't even know why you were doing that…with the gun. I want to help you, you're my pack mate, my beloved…please…."

He gently picked Alfred up, the human stiff in his arms, frozen for only a moment, before he broke down in Arthur's arms, crying into his chest. "I wanna die, Arthur. I don't want to keep feeling like this anymore! It hurts! It hurts so badly!"

Arthur felt it was his turn to freeze, as he realized just how close he had come to actually losing his beloved in the moment before. However, his abrupt freeze was interpreted as something other than shock on Alfred's behalf, and Alfred started to struggle with him, upset and trying to get away.

Except Arthur wouldn't let him go.

"No, Alfred, shhhhh…" Arthur said, voice shaky but needing to reassure Alfred. He wasn't going to let Alfred get away. "Shhh…. it's okay, it's okay…don't fight me, I'm not going to hurt you…"

"L-Let me go!" Alfred screamed. "You don't care about me! You think I'm weak!"

Arthur simply found all of this thinking horrifically irrational, but that was when it hit him. This wasn't rational. It defied all standards of how creatures lived. It was a human disease, and he remembered that Alfred had vaguely hinted as to such over a month ago.

Arthur tightened around the human, refusing to let him go now that he knew that his human was, indeed, sick.

"No." Arthur said, firmly. "None of what you're saying is true."

Alfred still struggled, and cried, until he started to beg. Unconsciously, Arthur had tightened his tail in displeasure, and initially believed the quick breathing to be a symbol of how he was crying, but realized he had been constricting him around his waist.

Arthur didn't know the best method of helping him, though. Matthew or Francis would, but they were back in Afghanistan, Alfred had explained over a month ago.

He simply held Alfred to him with his arms, the human having gone partially limp after being constricted too much and then released. Arthur stroked Alfred's hair, unsure of the best course of action. He couldn't precisely take Alfred to one of the humans "doctors" without risk of being put in a lab again, like he was in when he was young.

Alfred's house phone rang. It was an unfamiliar number, but Arthur prayed for a miracle at this point.

"Hello?" He said, trying not to let on his panic as he spoke.

"Oh wow, uhm." It coughed. "Arthur? Is that you?"

"Matthew." Arthur said, relieved, "Thank goodness."

"What? I mean, it's nice to talk with you, but…what's wrong there?" Matthew asked, suddenly nervous.

"I don't know what's wrong with him!" Arthur let the panic bleed through him. "He was taking medication, and the medication made him simply not care about anything, and and, he does weird things at night, and Matthew, he had a gun in the bathroom that he had at his temple but he threw it to the floor- and he said he wants to die!"

"Whoa, whoa, slow down." Matthew said, though his voice too, had become more serious. "Alfred? Alfred, as in, the happy-go-lucky, unafraid of anything, confident, Alfred, the soldier, Alfred? That Alfred?"

"Yes, Matthew!" Arthur snapped. "I am unaware of there being other Alfred's in my life!"

"Right, right." Matthew said, gulping. "Well. I just…I hadn't pinned him to be suicidal…"

"What do I do?" Arthur asked, panicked. "Is there a medication he needs, a scan to tell where a bone is broken, is it a parasite?"

"No, no…" Matthew said, concerned. "It's…it's not from anything like a broken bone or a parasite… It's likely from some trauma at the front, which we simply didn't… know about until now. Or, only made itself apparent now."

"Well, what do I do?" He asked, still hurting, still wondering how to make Alfred better. "Can you come here, you know more about this than I do!"

"I don't know if that would be appropriate…" Matthew said, voice wishy-washy and Arthur grunted.

"Come to his home or I swear to god, I will hunt you down, and I will personally show you what it's like to get a snake's bite on your genitalia!" Arthur hissed, and Matthew agreed.

"Uhm. I need to have your address…" Matthew said, awkward. "Can you find a piece of Alfred's mail, somewhere…?"

Once Arthur had relayed the information, Matthew spoke, surprised. "Y-you two really aren't all that far from us, wow." Matthew sounded just vaguely bitter, but Arthur didn't get it. He told Matthew in severe irritation to just get over to them, and quickly.

"It'll take me a few hours, but…I'll be there by morning."

Arthur gently stroked Alfred's hair as he agreed. "I'll see you then."

XXXXX

Alfred fell asleep at some time in the night, his body warm and breathing soft, until his nightmare started, but Arthur remedied that by kissing him and whispering once again. He looked exhausted as he rested in Arthur's coils, bundled up in a blanket to preserve his heat.

Arthur was simply waiting at this point- sunrise would soon be upon them. And Arthur wasn't going to let him have those pills again. Never, since they had done this to him. Matthew would know what else to do for him- Alfred needed that.

He started to stroked Alfred's hair again out of nervousness- was Matthew coming? -And as the sun started to rise, he heard a honk coming from the front of the house, both Arthur and Alfred jumping at the sound. Arthur did it because it was unfamiliar, but Alfred…

It seemed to frighten him incredibly, struggling and writhing and Arthur's instincts drove him to squeeze him tighter, before he realized that this would suffocate the human.

He released Alfred, even though the poor human had the breath taken from him, and had fallen unconscious. Arthur made sure he was still breathing, and once he was sure, he went over to the door and opened it partially.

"Hey, Arthur." Matthew said, strangely muted as he looked at him, before Arthur opened the door for him, quietly gesturing Matthew to come inside.

"Wow. What happened to him?" The other man joked, and Arthur glared.

"The honking frightened him, made him struggle." He hissed, his voice sharply displeased, "And my instincts reacted, since he was in my coils, to prevent him from running off and feel if he started to have a nightmare. I squeezed a little too hard."

Matthew raised an eyebrow, before gently rubbing his forehead. "Oh boy." He muttered, before telling Arthur to help him carry Alfred to a bed.

"D…does he live with someone else?" Matthew eventually asked, as he sat Alfred up and forced him to drink water, and Arthur was confused.

"I mean, he lives with me." Arthur said, making a face, and Matthew sagged.

"Right…right."

Arthur felt like something had gone over his head, but he didn't question it as he watched Matthew do an exam of Alfred, muttering about his body and upsetting current condition.

However, Matthew decided the only thing to do was to wait until the other woke up…and if he didn't, well then. Matthew would have to take Alfred to the hospital.