"You Are My Sunshine"

Okay, well this is my first fan fiction that I have ever written. I AM AMERICAN! I'm not from England, so sorry if I get ANYTHING wrong. I mean no offense to anyone with what I might say (if I do say anything offensive-sounding to you), and I hope you enjoy chapter 1! If you spot any mistakes, even though I do look the paper over and my computer spell checks it, please tell me. (In a private message would be nice.) Thank you!

It seems like only yesterday I was holding you in my arms; as a child of course.

Alfred was full of energy and enthusiasm as a kid, and those two traits grew with him throughout the years Arthur was away. His energy levels leave Arthur gobsmacked sometimes though, as Alfred never seemed to get tired until Arthur was ready for bed, because he feared being left alone.

When Alfred was only ten, turning eleven in just a few months, he had been left home a few times. During these times, he would go all throughout the house, searching for any and all forms of entertainment. Most of the time he would find a way to set up the stool to climb up to the movie cabinet, picking out the scariest title he could find. Arthur always came home just in the nick-of-time to stop Alfred from watching a scary movie, as they would give the boy nightmares. The two would fight, Arthur claiming he was too young to be watching those types of movies, and Alfred retorting with his signature catchphrase:

"But I'm the Hero! They wouldn't scare me!" Regardless, Arthur always put the movie back, forgetting to lock the cabinet as he dragged Alfred to his room.

How the two had come to be living together was an entirely different story though.

Running about in the grocery store, Arthur searched for the last ingredient for the dinner he was cooking tonight. It wasn't anything big, for it was just himself eating; no others to share the food with.

As he continued over to the dairy section, he noticed a melon rolling towards him, and picked it up when it hit his feet. Suddenly, a small boy from around the corner came running towards him, snatching the melon out of him hands. After him, came two large men with angry looks on their faces. They seemed to have lost track of the boy, and asked Arthur where he had gone to.

"Why? What did the young lad do?" The boy couldn't have been any older than eleven! Why in the world would he be…..

The melon.

Arthur gripped the half-empty basket that was in his hand very tightly, and ran towards where he saw the boy go; into a back room that was used for storage and was strictly off-limits. There, in the corner of the room eating the melon as if it was his first meal in a long while, was the small boy.

"There he is!" the first man yelled. Arthur hadn't gotten a look at their faces before, and now saw that the two of them looked very similar; One, raging with anger, while the other looked more sympathetic towards the child. "Veneziano! Help me out over here!" The hair that swirled out to the right of his head was twitching; almost in an angry way.

"Y-yes brother." They both carried heavy Italian accents. As they came closer to the small child, he became more frightened and began to whimper a bit out of fear.

"Wait!" Arthur yelled, "If I pay for the melon and anything else this boy might have damaged, do you think you can let him off with just a warning?" Arthur felt his heart go softer by the second. The boy was obviously emaciated, and was in dire need of food, as well as some new clothes. Arthur apparently wasn't being very observant today, for he hadn't noticed the ragged, three-sizes-too-small clothes the young boy had on, as well as his dirty, tangled hair. The boy was a mess.

"Would you like to know how much he destroyed before you say that? I'm going to have to clean up four different isles because of him!" the right-curled one shouted.

"Sir, the boy destroyed 320 pounds worth of produce… as well as 50 pounds worth of snack-foods." This one that spoke had a curl going out from the left side of his head.

"No problem. He is let off with a warning though, right?" Arthur looked at the two, anxiously awaiting their answer. He really hoped he could keep the young boy out of trouble, and maybe help him as well. Slowly, the right-curled one nodded, and Arthur handed him about half the money that was in his wallet. It really was no problem at all, as Arthur had a great deal of money left in the bank.

"Alright, now get that kid out of here after you are done shopping. I do not want to see him here for at least another week. Ciao." With that, the two walked off, turning back only once to say their names. "If you need us, ask for Romano and Veneziano. They'll know who we are."

Arthur waved them off, never giving his name. He looked down at the small child, who's faced had been covered by the juice from the melon, making him very sticky. He was trembling a bit, and holding onto Arthur's leg. He smiled at the young boy, who looked up at his with bright blue eyes that were filled with unshed tears.

"Well, I still have some shopping to do. If you come with me I can buy you something to eat on the way home." They boy hesitated, but nodded his head, revealing a small cowlick that stuck almost straight up from the boy's matted dirty-blonde hair. Hesitantly, the boy nodded his head, and Arthur took the boys hand, only picking up two more items; one of them including something for the boy to eat until they could get back to Arthur's house.

As the young boy in the back seat munched away on his bag of crisps, Arthur began to wonder where this boy's parents were. He hadn't seen anyone outside of the store, and the employees acted as if the boy didn't have parents. After a few minutes of silence, besides the occasional crunch of a crisp, Arthur finally asked for the boy's name.

"My name is Alfred." He said through a mouth of crisps, which he referred to as 'potato chips'. He then swallowed what was in his mouth, and continued to talk. "Thank you for what you did back there. I'm sorry for that you had to pay for all of that stuff." Because the boy had spoken clearly, Arthur was able to notice an American accent.

"Where are your parents? Did you come to the store without them?" Arthur was getting curious. What was an American boy doing, stealing food in a supermarket, with no parents?

Suddenly, Alfred pointed to the sky. "Up there." He smiled a sad smile, making Arthur almost miss the turn into his driveway. The fact that he knew he was alone in this world, and wouldn't ask anyone to help him, surprised Arthur. The boy was trying to take care of himself, and wasn't doing a very good job of it.

"Oh, I'm sorry Alfred. But why are you here in England? You clearly are from America."

"A bad man brought me here. He took me on a big plane and he wouldn't give me any food, new clothes, and made me sleep outside. He never liked mommy and daddy, and always told me that they never loved me, so I ran away from him a year ago." Arthur was gobsmacked. The man kidnapped him and abused the poor boy?

"Do you know if anyone has ever tried looking for you?" By this point, the car was idle; parked in the driveway. He just wanted to know a bit more. He was so curious!

"Were you looking for me?" Arthur shook his head, "I guess not, then. Mommy and daddy had no friends, so no one knew they had a son, so no one has ever looked for me."

That was more than Arthur could comprehend at the moment. Americans…. He shook his head.

"Well, no sense staying in here. Let me bring the groceries inside, and cook you something more to eat. Do you like scones?" Arthur knew that no one really liked his cooking, but he felt sorry for Alfred, and needed to feed him SOMETHING.

"I don't know. I can't taste anything." Alfred had an innocent smile on his face, while Arthur practically tripped getting out of the car.

Ageusia? I wonder if he was diagnosed with it… I doubt he would know. "Well, let's get inside. I'm sure that I have some clothes that will fit you. My nephew's clothes will work perfectly." As he led Alfred to the trunk of the car, the child's stomach growled. Arthur chuckled a bit at this, and sped up the process of picking up the few bag he had, and heading into his house.

Arthur was indeed, above middle class. He wasn't quite rich, yet he owned a house that gave off the appearance that he was. It was a four story house with a basement, and it was more than needed for only one person, but Arthur liked his space. He also had a maid, whom he treated very nicely. He wasn't one of those heartless creatures who treat them like pigs. As he walked to the door, he was greeted by his maid, who was referred to as Seychelles. She had long, brown hair that, when not in pigtails, came down to the bottom of her back. She was called Seychelles because she spoke both French and English, usually mixing them in a unique way. She always speaks English to Arthur though.

"Good morning, Mr. Kirkland. Oh, who is this young man?" She bent down a smiled at the boy who seemed to blush a bit, as he hid behind Arthur.

"This is Alfred. Do you mind finding my nephew's clothes for him to change into?" She nodded, and quickly ran to fetch said clothes. Arthur went into the kitchen, Alfred following close behind, and set the bags down on a counter.

"Do you think you could help me put these away while I make you those scones I promised?"

"Um, sure mister.…." Alfred didn't know what to address him as, so he was at a loss for words.

"You can call me Arthur."

"How about Artie?" Alfred was beaming at the idea of his nick-name. With his smile and eyes, Arthur just didn't have the heart to say no. As he nodded his head, Alfred slowly began to figure out where everything went without Arthur having to tell him. When the scones were being shaped, Seychelles walked into the room, and displayed the clothes to Arthur.

"Will these do? I do think that I should give him a bath first, though."

"That is fine. Alfred," he turned to look at him, and saw he was struggling to carry the bag of sugar to a cabinet. Arthur walked over and took the bag, and continued, "This young lady here is going to give you a nice, warm bath, so if you would follow her and listen to her, I'll take you out for dinner. How does that sound?" He bent down and patted the boy's hair.

"Yeah! Let's go!" little Alfred shouted, as he dragged Seychelles out of the kitchen.

"Be good!" Arthur couldn't help but feel bad for Seychelles, leaving her with the hyper young boy.

As Arthur put the scones in the oven, he wondered where he was going to take Alfred to dinner if he was good for Seychelles. He went over to a magazine that had all of the local restaurants listed in it, and considering that he couldn't taste and Arthur wasn't a picky eater, they could go to any restaurant they wanted. Once he narrowed it down to two restaurants, Alfred had come down with Seychelles in tow, proudly displaying his clothes to Arthur.

"Look how cool these clothes are! Thanks Artie!" He ran over and practically tackled Arthur in a bear hug (if it could be considered that).

"Whoa there, Alfred."

"Hey! I'm not a horse!" he pouted as Arthur put him back on the ground. He chuckled at the young boy's statement, who continued to pout, but eventually laughed along with him. Arthur then heard the timer for the oven go off, and pulled the scones out. For the first time in a long while, they weren't burnt. "Those look really fancy! You really made those?"

Alfred's fascination was amusing to Arthur, who just chuckled again before answering, "Why yes. I did make them."

"That's SO COOL!" He reached for one of them, and before Arthur could stop him, he burned his hand on the tray. "Ow! Ow ow ow ow ow!" He began to make all sorts of noises, and Arthur rushed over to his as he began to cry. "It… hurts!" Arthur picked Alfred up, and headed over to the living room, opening up a nearby cabinet and pulling out a first aid kit. The tray was very hot, and had somehow managed to make Alfred's hand bleed a bit. Alfred had stopped crying, and was now blubbering a bit.

"It's okay to cry at home Alfred, especially as a little kid like you are now." Arthur began to pat Alfred's head, when Alfred tackled Arthur in another hug, sobbing uncontrollably. Arthur hugged him, and managed to carry him to the bathroom to run some water over his hand. When the ice-cold water rushed over his hand, Alfred winced and let out a small whimper.

"Sorry Artie."

"For what? Accidents happen sometimes. Now you know not to do that again." He smiled, and set the boy down on the ground, and began to wrap his hand in a bandage. When he was done, he sent Arthur back to the living room to eat the scones and watch some television. When he was out of sight, Seychelles tapped Arthur on the shoulder and he turned around to see a concerned look on her face.

"Sir, he has a lot of bruises and cuts on his back. I treated them but, I don't know what they are from. They almost seem like claw-marks."

That man probably did this to him. Alfred did seem skittish whenever I touched him…

"I'll ask him about it when we go to dinner tonight. Would you like to come, Seychelles?"

Her face immediately lit up with happiness, "I would enjoy that very much, Mr. Kirkland." With that, she was off to finish her duties for the day so she could go to dinner with them later on in the day.

Everyone will probably think she is my mum. After all, I'm only sixteen.

*GASP!*

Arthur is only a teenager? Where are his parents? How did he obtain so much money? What is the square root of schizophrenia? I don't know… now I am just being random. Well, in the next chapter you will be given more information of Alfred's past, as well as how Arthur came to have so much money, and is living on his own at this age and out of school so early! It'll be up soon! Probably next weekend, or sometime this week. Eh. School and archery.

Well, please review! It's kind of early to favorite this story, but if you feel the need to do so, go ahead!

TheCrumpetThief432836 OUT! *mock salute*