Title: Promise Me This
Author: sithmarauder
Pairing(s): Alfred/Arthur, mentions of Francis/Matthew
Disclaimer: Hetalia and all affiliated characters do not (and will never) belong to me.
Inspired by an episode of Cold Case, in which I cried buckets.
It was a toss-up between posting this and another one-shot I have done. However, I had finished this one first, so in the end I decided to go with it.
Warning: Contains the death of a main character.
-x-
It's getting harder to breathe – harder to keep his focus, with the way everything appears right how: hazy, muddled, obscure; lacking in a clarity it would have otherwise possessed, had the building not been burning down all around him. To say he isn't scared would be a lie, but it's okay, no matter the outcome, because he's the hero, and that's just how it goes, right? The hero always wins in the end…
"Alfred, you git, hold on!" Comes a voice from the other side of the bars, and he feels someone reach in, but it won't do any good. He knows it won't.
"Hey, Arthur," he coughs weakly, smiling as he shuffles over to the window, his face pressed against the bars. On the other side, a man with green eyes stares at the barrier in ill-concealed horror, looking around and trying to see if there's a way to get them off, or get around them.
There isn't. They both know it.
"Hey, Arthur… You'll… you'll take care of Matthew, right?" Alfred coughs out, pining the other with his eyes – so serious, so blue.
"What? Don't talk like that – don't talk like you're not getting out! You'll be fine, idiot, you'll…"
Alfred reaches through the bars on the window, grabbing Arthur's hand. "He'll need someone now; I know he… I know he has Francis, and… I know we don't always get along, but he – " he breaks off, coughing, his lungs filled with the deadly smoke. He gasps for a little bit while Arthur shouts something at him, the man's voice rising.
"Alfred, Alfred listen to me, you need to put your face by the bars, try to breathe some fresh air – "
Alfred reaches out through the bars on the window, resting his palm against Arthur's cheek, feeling the moisture there, like on his own face, warm as it is from the heat of the atmosphere. "Hey, Arthur…"
"What… what kind of stupid frat house puts bars on windows… these days," Arthur says, holding on to the outside of said window, refusing to let go, even though his perch is precarious – he had climbed through one of the other second-floor windows, urging Alfred to do the same, and had made his way across the structure to where Alfred is, only to discover him trapped, coughing, dying.
There's nothing either of them can do. Not now.
"Arthur!" Alfred hisses, meeting Arthur's eyes. "Promise me that you'll take care of Matthew, all right? I don't want him to – " another cough " – to be alone. Promise me, Arthur! Promise me that you won't let him be alone!" He's been alone all his life, and it's my fault, all my fault…
"Al – "
"Promise me!" His tone is strangely fierce, his eyes blazing, even as the world goes to Hell around him. He can feel his grip on the bars loosening, and he knows Arthur can feel it too.
"Alfred, you fool, hold on! I won't let you go, you idiot!" Arthur chokes out. Alfred smiles weakly at him, trying to take in gulps of oxygen. His vision is starting to blacken, and the smoke makes his eyes and throat sting. He feels parched, and his grip on Arthur's arm loosens further as he slides slowly to the floor of the room, his chest heaving. Distantly, he can hear Arthur shouting his name, and a small smile flickers across his face as he closes his eyes for the final time.
The last thing he hears on this earth is Arthur's voice, calling to him over the smoke and the flames – loud, desperate to be heard.
"I love you, Alfred. I promise."