Title: Not Every Man Lives
Rating: T for minimal swearing other such things
Summery: Three months ago, while painting a proposal, Alfred fell from the top of the town water tower and died. Three months ago, Arthur lost his most important person. Three months ago, Arthur's life went to the dogs. Today, Alfred came back.
Shippings: USUK, mainly, with undertones of DenNor and PruCan.
Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, location, ect, hereby in unless otherwise stated.
Other notes: Based on a line from Jason Aldeen's song "Not Every Man Lifes"
—
As hateful and selfish as it sounded, sometimes I am gratefully Alfred never got the chance to finish that sentence…
Will you marry me, A
Those four words, a letter, and then a large splatter mark, all in bright red paint, on the highest point in our little town, the white and yellow, tub-shaped water tower. The one place not only me, but everyone else in the bloody town, would see it.
He just had to be so showy, had to make such a big deal about it. He must have thought it was romantic, or maybe he just wanted to see me turn the same color as the paint that fell from the top of the tower. If only that git had just pulled me aside to ask me that, at least then I could slap him.
A text, a butchery of the English language, that said simply 'com 2 h2o twer iggy asap' should have been the first clue something was not right.
I arrived to flashing lights, to a crowd of people, to students and teachers who just arrived before the sun completely rose, idling about, to the police and even a state trooper. Troopers never come unless something really bad happened. The last time I'd even seen one was when Ivan's insane guardian had a break down and held our fifth grade class hostage.
None of us have been quiet right after that.
That was about the time Alfred started to cling around me, now that I think about it.
I bobbed through the mass. I heard tidbits of conversation while looking for Alfred.
"I can't believe…"
"The family…"
"…such a nice boy."
"…up there, do you think?"
"…will be missed…"
"…who 'A' is?"
"…would have said 'yes'?"
I paid them no mind; it's just the idle gossip the naturally accompanies big events in small towns.
Finally I saw a familiar head of hair.
Francis, to be honest, I could not stand him. He was a fool and flirt, but it would not be strange if I asked him. He knew about Alfred and me. Aside from Al's twin, Francis was the only other.
I tapped his shoulder, asking if he'd seen Alfred at all.
Something twisted in my stomach at his face, so sad and void. Francis simply stared, his eyes misted over. A mixture of sorrow and pity. The knot tighten. Something was wrong, very, very wrong.
I repeated his name. After a moment, Francis opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off by a silent parting of the crowd. As they did, I wondered if Moses and the Israelites were silent as Red Sea parted for them.
Two men pushed a stretcher on wheels, solemn looks on their faces. The silence broke after the men and stretcher pasted. More tidbits floated to my ears. This time, I paid attention.
"Such a nice boy."
"His family, Gosh, I feel so sad for them!"
"I wonder who the girl was?"
"He was too young for this."
Everything around me blurred, save for the men and the stretcher between them. The closer they came, the less of them I saw. The only thing I saw was the stretcher, then the person on it, then the blanket thrown over him. It was pulled up above his eyes, covering his face, so only a lock of blond hair sticking out.
The men, stretcher, blanket, he, passed. The world wobbled; my knees crumbled behind me. Before everything went dark, I saw the water tower. I saw the splatter of red paint, the four words, the letter…
Arthur blinked out of his daydream, or maybe day-mare. Day-Memory, he decided to call it. He had them often. Even three months after the event, he still couldn't shake it. Maybe it was time to talk to the consular.
He shook the thought off. No. No way. Then more people would know about….them. No more people need to know about them, their relationship. The rumors flew almost the second the funeral ended. Some girls noticed how longer Arthur lingered at the casket, and that he'd left a rose at the grave after he thought everyone else had left.
The rumors spread like wildfire.
The 'A' name Alfred never got to finish writing must have been Arthur's, they claimed. Arthur and Alfred had been spending a lot of time together, and now people started claiming they had seen them at movies and sitting a little too close during the home games.
Arthur never confirmed the rumors, though he never denied them, either.
It seemed that everything Arthur did nowadays just added to the mill.
That's why he decided not to do anything.
He quit the occult club first, after he overheard some of the members whispering about using black magic to bring Alfred back or contract him in the afterlife. The newspaper and honors band soon after. There wasn't a point in staying after school for them anymore.
But that just seemed to incriminate him even more. Even among the faulty, long stares were throw his way. The teachers were starting to believe the rumors now, but not the silly dating rumors. The darker rumors. The ones no soul dared to even say around him, or even speak louder than a whisper.
It was all his fault.
The darkest rumor, the truest rumor.
No matter how many times he told himself he had no way of knowing that Alfred planning to do…that. It was not his fault. This is Fate, he can't escape it if he wanted to…
But then that little devil on his shoulder would appear, a tiny smirk on his lips. He would stroll across Arthur's shoulder and leaned on his elbow against Arthur's ear and speak, so convincingly, so smoothly, it could not be anything but truth.
It was all Arthur's fault. Arthur could have avoided the relationship, ignored Alfred's advances, and pushed him away when he pulled Arthur aside and kissed him, but no. Arthur just had to play coy, had to kiss him back. He was such an idiot.
The bell rang, banishing the devil. Arthur picked up his bag and tossed it over his shoulder. It was time for the worse class of the day on the worse day of the week. PE on Thursday.
—
One of things Alfred would always be remembered for, besides his unhappy ending, was that he had the fastest lap time ever. Where it took an average student about five to seven minutes to run all the way around the school at a comfortable pace, Alfred could do it at two and a half flat.
It amazed the coach, who all but forced Alfred to join track. It annoyed Arthur, who knew all the attention would make Alfred's head even bigger.
Long ago, Arthur decide the coach was nothing but a sadist who enjoyed watching teenagers nearly puke from fatigue as he made them run laps around the school. Personally, Arthur could make the lap in four minutes on a good day, but that was before the event.
Whenever Arthur came close to the final turn, he would stop. The shadow of the water tower loomed in front of him like a black snake, daring Arthur to continue. He would grit his teeth, tell himself just to go, but his feet would remain planted.
Finally, when he had but only a minute left before the coach wrote his grade down as an F for not completing the laps, a stray cloud would cover the shadow and Arthur would run as fast as his legs could carry him across the clouds path.
Arthur neared the dreaded turn. He glanced behind him. Sometimes he would run through the shadow with a group, tagging along at the end, but there was no gaggle of gossipy girls behind nor in front of him this time.
He swore. One more F and he would have to retake PE. That was something he would not stand for. Shutting his acidy green eyes, Arthur took a breath and bolted.
He'd just run through.
It is just a shadow; it is just a shadow; it is just a shadow. He told himself over and over, running with his eyes clamped shut. If he didn't see it, it wasn't there.
The sound of the wind in his hair and the cries of little children playing in the playground carried to his ears. The sun warmed his exposed forearms and legs. He relished the feeling and attempted to memorize it for the next time his body was gripped by icy cold.
The next time came faster than he thought it would.
Arthur's limbs froze. His eyes slipped open. His breath caught in his throat.
The blond stood in the middle of the water tower's shadow. Instead of jumping over the snake, he had been swallowed by it. His legs shook slightly and he felt all the warmth drain from his body.
Slowly, as if his body was acting on its own, Arthur turned towards the water tower.
They had long since painted over the letters and there was no sign that someone had ever lost their life other than the fence now encircling the base of the tower to prevent people from climbing up the ladder.
It looked like it had before the event—well, almost.
His legs nearly gave out at the sight on the tower. Outline in white was a person. Even though he could not see his feature clearly, Arthur knew that body anywhere. The way he held himself, the shoulders, the way he leaned against the water tower, it all screamed…
"Alfred?" The name slipped from his lips so easily, too easily. The person on the water tower seemed to heard the name and move his gaze to Arthur.
"Arthur! Ten seconds!" The coach yelled. When Arthur turned his gazed back to the water tower, he was gone. He shook his head, and ran off. Nothing but mind tricks, he told him.
Nothing, but mind tricks…
—
Hello, everyone. This is my first fic on this account—lucky you, right? Ha-ha, jk. Ugh, I started writing this fic, like, wow, last summer? Well, I decided, in remembrance of my old account, I would post a story I was finished with first (and I like to be very far ahead in a fic before I post it anyway, just because). So, you guys are lucky, you needn't worry about me having to write it—just having to POST it...if my long comic (still ongoing, but finished) is any indication, you're screwed either way, ha-ha...^^;
R&R, if you want. :)