Notes:
Hello, Before you continue I have a few words to say. First of all, thank you so much in advance for clicking on this fic as well as any reviews, follows or bookmarks you would like to leave. This fic is my 2014 NaNoWriMo Project and so much of the story as already been written, but I would love to hear your thoughts on what you'd like to happen or whatever you think is going to happen.
WARNING: This work contains a number of elements that may be potentially triggering and/or hardhitting.
Please Please take a few moments to leave some recognition when you're done! I'm not the kind of person to withhold chapters until x amount of feedback, but it does motivate me to work a little faster. In any case, thank you again and have fun reading my fic.
Of all the alcoholics that came to this dark and dirty pub on Canal Street, the most prominent of them all by far, was Arthur Kirkland. If he hadn't had a job and kids to attend to at home, Arthur would have probably spent every waking moment inside the establishment until he was forced out for closing time. By then, he'd likely sit and weep until the barman came around to open it back up for the night, letting the patrons of the twilight enter for the medication they needed to withstand the dreariness of their lives for another day.
The already cheap drink was made even cheaper by the fact that Arthur was a lightweight; it took only a dribble for him to start flooding the troubles away. His usual drink of choice was the stuff of pirates, hard shit for hard times while sailing upon a sea of tears, rum. Despite the fact that Arthur usually opted for the stronger stuff, regardless of the actual alcohol content of the drink, he seemed to always succumb to intoxication after just one glass.
"Another one…barkeep." Demanded Arthur after a brief hiccup, pounding his empty glass on the bar to make a point. There was a moment of silence as annoyance flashed in the bartender's eyes. Pulling out a wad of cash, Arthur clumsily displayed it, eyes bleary. With a wry smirk, the bartender accepted the payment and did just as Arthur asked, handing him a drink that seemed to be worth much less than what had been paid. Even if Arthur had noticed the cheating tactic, he didn't protest. If he had to pay a little bit extra to get his medicine, so be it. It was worth it.
Now that he had his beer goggles on, Arthur paused to look around the pub's interior. It hadn't changed much since yesterday. A couple of woman his age toasted their drinks and denounced men while a group of underage kids tried hard not to look suspicious while they drank beer. Arthur turned back to glance at his own drink and was mortified by the reflection glaring back at him. Who was that sullen looking man with such a pained expression? Tilting his head to one side like a curious puppy, Arthur tried to smile. The result was unnerving. He decided instead to devour the man within the drink, tipping his glass and gulping it all down again. A hellish burn that was so sweetly addictive rushed down his throat, adding to the fiery anger swirling in his belly.
"It's all her fault you know." Said Arthur, shifting on the stool and looking up. The bartender grunted in what seemed to be vague approval.
"Women." He mumbled.
"Damn woman." Arthur took another sharp swig of his glass and winced, leaning over and coughing into his fist. Arthur pounded his chest and sniffled, not from sadness but from the sudden shortness of breath he had found himself with "Ah…I… used to have a wife you know."
"Mmm." Nodded the bartender, focused on getting a particularly stubborn stain out of the bottom of a beer glass with a rag filthier than the streets of Manchester.
"I met her while I was on vacation out of the country." Said Arthur. A sad sigh escaped him and he glanced up at the ceiling, staring up and lifting the glass to his gaping mouth.
"She died?" asked the bartender.
Arthur looked back at the other without taking a drink, eyes wide. He gave a short laugh full of anguish. "Ha. No no no no no." He said. "No, nothing of that sort. Although…"
"Left you for a better man?"
"Hardly!" scoffed Arthur, scowling and narrowing his eyes in disgust. "Better man. Oh sure, if you think a dustpan is better than a vacuum than feel free to 'upgrade'! Makes absolutely perfect sense to me!" he said, gripping his glass tightly again and draining the contents. He looked down at the emptiness and could feel a similar sense of hollow being within his heart. Arthur turned away and withdrew another wad of money, placing it on the bar and tapping the wood with his knuckles. "Let's keep this conversation going…"
Getting the message, the bartender quickly served Arthur his third drink of the night. He wondered how much longer this charade was going to last. Arthur seemed to be making less sense every minute and once the bartender returned with a refill, the poor soul started spilling his guts again.
"In spite of everything…how…cruelly she left me. I supposed I'd be lying if I said I never wanted to see her again." He said, slumping over onto the bar sluggishly, playing with the indents on the glass. "And I know I can say the same for my kids." He said, shaking his head and taking a sip to get the courage to talk about this painful experience some more.
"How could she. Maybe I wasn't the prince of all husbandry, but how could she be so cruel to our kids. I'm no asexual creature, they have her DNA too you know!" he ranted, shaking his head. "Leaving me with damn kids. Damn kids with her damn face that I have to stare at every day, reminding me that she's not here." He said, hands shaking in anger. Another quick chug.
"But- mmmm, alright. Alright." Said Arthur, hiccuping. Listen, mmm, don't get me wrong, I love Atthew and Malfre- Uh. Affew. Math. My sons. Two of them." He said, holding up three fingers.
"Uhuh." Said the bartender, focusing on his stubborn stain again.
"Alfred…Alfred is my first one." Said Arthur with a smile. "He's 16…and he's a pain in my rear end if there ever was one. A big, fat rear in the literal sense." Arthur laughed and shook his head, squinting. "I mean, it's like, it's like, every time I get something new to put in the cupboard for groceries and what…whatevernot you know, you know what I'm talking about. In any case, Alfred looks at it, gets his grubby hands on it and, WOOSH, it's all gone down his greedy gullet. Absolutely nothing left for anybody else, or maybe he leaves the crumbs." Arthur tilted his class up, holding his finger up to pause the conversation as he emptied it. A slow exhale escaped him as he shook his head.
"Where was I…ah yes, so like I was saying, what was happening is that essentially, I told him. I told him, 'Don't you have absolutely ANY consideration for the rest of this family you great fat pig? There are other people in this house besides you, even though God knows it's a wonder how we can manage to fit in here with your lard ridden disgusting body waddling about." Spat Arthur, licking his lips and looking down at the empty glass, tilting it up once more to get at the last few droplets.
The bartender nodded noncommittally and Arthur felt his cheeks redden. "Well…okay, perhaps I'm…extending the truth to a certain extent, but he is a little frustrating to deal with, surely you understand what I'm talking about? Well even if you don't have kids, it's alright." He rambled. "He's such a problem…but…" Arthur slumped on the bar again with a sigh, smiling gently.
"I wish you could see his smile…Alfred he…he…" A brief burp escaped him. "Well for one thing it's much better than Matthew's, even though that child rarely smiles, Good. But in any case, Alfred, oh when we're not having a go at each other he's almost always laughing and joking around." Said Arthur. "Fun loving and all, but I only wish he would learn that play time needs to be put aside for some hard work as well." He said, reaching into his wallet and pulling out the last few bits of paper, practically throwing them at the bartender.
The bartender looked disdainfully at the crumbled bills. "Haven't you had enough?" he said at last, provoking Arthur's wrath.
"No! I'm not DONE yet!" whined Arthur, slamming his hand down on the bar hard before hissing. "Aahahah…that hurts." He said, blowing on his hand before knocking on the bar again. "What is this…oak? Cedar?" he asked.
"This is your last one." Growled the bartender, growing irritated with Arthur's presence already. He filled the glass up and handed it back to Arthur.
"Last bit. Ha." Said Arthur, tracing the pattern of the wood with his finger. "I'm almost done anyhow." He said, shrugging as he drank half in one go and sighed. "M…mmm…Matthew." He said. "Now there's a no trouble child. Perfect kid. Brings home straight A's, works hard, he's just like me. So mellow, easygoing." He purred.
"But he gets easily confused. Sometimes he likes to think that he's the adult." Said Arthur slowly, narrowing his eyes and straightening up. "I can do whatever I bloody hell want to do- he can't give me silly advice or take matters into his own hands. How dare he…little daydreamer. Whatever makes me happy makes me happy! That's the final word!" he exclaimed, nodding as though he had said something quite poignant before turning the glass upside down, the rest of the drink disappearing into his mouth.
"Alright, that's it, out you go." Said the bartender, lifting the partition so that he could literally drag Arthur out of the pub if necessary.
Arthur weakly tilted his head and groaned, suddenly jumping to his feet and stumbling forward. "Ugh…get…just get away from me." He said, shaking a fist and immediately using that hand to grab onto the bar so that he wouldn't fall over. "I don't need your help."
"Are you sure?" asked the bartender, wary of how Arthur wobbled.
"You heard me the first time, brother!" spat Arthur, clutching his forehead and shaking his head. "Just give me a second…" Arthur mumbled incoherently as he checked his pockets to make sure his wallet and car keys were still there, as well as his cell phone. Find everything in its proper place, he took a deep breath and stomped his way out the door.
As soon as he made his way onto the sidewalk, Arthur bumped into someone, flying back like a pinball. His back slammed back against the door he had just closed and a pang of pain rocketed up his spine. "Ugh! Terribly sorry. Ow…" As a result of the sudden movement, Arthur found his stomach disagreeing loudly and he doubled over to hug himself. "Oh dear… that's not settling very well right now oh…" he whined.
"Oooh I'm so sorry, are you alright?" asked the man, peering close. Arthur's vision was so bleary, he couldn't make out any features of the person who had bumped into him, but he could tell by the voice that it was definitely a male.
"I'm fine, ugh, really, whatever, carry on with your day…evening, night. Sir." He said, taking a deep breath so as to not vomit all over the stranger. He shook his head to try and clear it and reached for the keys in his pocket, stumbling towards his car.
"You're not thinking of driving are you?" came the voice of the stranger. Arthur yelped in surprise, his keys dropping with a jingle to the sidewalk. Of course he was thinking of driving, how else was he supposed to get home to make dinner for the kids? He sure as hell couldn't flap his arms and fly.
"Wah- Well, what's it to you?" he grumped, bending over to pick his keys up.
"Ha, from the way you look right now, you look likely to kill a poor soul." Said the stranger sadly, voice growing louder and accompanied with footsteps. "Including yourself, don't you think you're better off waiting until tomorrow?" Arthur was quiet for a moment.
"I appreciate your concern." Said Arthur carefully, trying hard to sound sober. "However, I am not that drunk."
"Oh come on…there's a nice motel not too far from here that I can take you too, and it's pretty cheap for a-"
"Are you a prostitute!?" snarled Arthur, turning around and pressing himself back against the car. The stranger had put his hand on Arthur's back as he spoke and the unfamiliar gentle gesture unnerved him very much so. Arthur could see the hurt confusion in the stranger's eyes as he struggled to realize Arthur's reaction.
"What!? N-No I only meant-"
"I have a WIFE!" hissed Arthur in disgust. "Get out of here you…you filthy little bilge rat!"
"What a terribly unlucky woman." Snarked the stranger back, surprising Arthur with how venomous it had been. "Maybe I was wrong. Go on and get in the car, hopefully she'll be freed of you by tonight."
Arthur froze, feeling a lump grow in his throat as he heard the stranger turn and strut away. He could clearly hear that controlled storm of rage with every footstep clamping down on the sidewalk. Arthur shuddered. He felt like an idiot.
"Yeah well…at least I'm freed of you…crazy git." Mumbled Arthur to himself, even though the stranger was a long ways out of earshot. He shoved his keys inside the lock and climbed inside the car, hiccuping and groaning as he put his seatbelt on and went on his typical routine. He popped a stick of spearmint gum in his mouth, chewing to try to wake himself up a bit.
As he pulled the car into gear, Arthur's mind already started to wander and think about what would be best to bring home. Chinese? No. Pizza? Perhaps. Maybe it would be best to call them. Reaching into his pocket, Arthur quickly dialed the younger of his two sons, Matthew. Sure, he had seen many campaigns on being on your phone while driving, but seeing as how he was already drunk perhaps flirting with Death would make it blush and spare him.
Matthew answered on the fifth ring. "Yeah…" he said, speaking so softly Arthur had to strain to hear.
"Mafflrewred." Slurred Arthur, groaning and shaking his head, trying to remember how to pronounce his son's name.
"Dad." Said Matthew weakly. "Where are you?"
"Where I always am, dear boy?" he chirped, sitting upright suddenly. "But don't you worwor- worry." Arthur cleared his throat. "And keep Alfthew away from the biscuits, I'm driving home with food. Well I mean I will..be GETTING the food soon, yes."
"Wha? Dad be careful- " Matthew sniffed. "Oh my gosh- we're gonna be orphans." He gulped and sighed heavily before exhaling long and hard. Arthur felt an overwhelming curtain of shame simply crush him.
"Aha…don't…don't say that." Said Arthur, mind so bleary he couldn't tell which was the brake and which was the accelerator anymore.
"Where is that jackass already?" said Alfred in the background of the phone, amid Matthew annoyed moans. Arthur tightened his grip on the wheel.
"I'm coming…I'm coming…" he said, hand shaking as he took his own deep shuddering breath. A gasp escaped Arthur then. Orphan. He was the only thing his kids had. Why?
Because of her.
Because of his dear, lovely wife.
He felt his eyes stinging, heavy from the weight of salty tears that blurred his vision, his heart pounding. This was too much to bear, this agony, this hollow pain. A strangled pathetic weeping noise escaped Arthur. He slammed his hand against the steering wheel in frustration, honking the horn and swerving.
"Dad…Dad!"
"Why…my little flower…" he sobbed, leaning forward and feeling the sleepiness overtake him. The cell phone dropped from his hands and he leaned forward, wanting to reach out to his wife. The speedometer arrow turned wildly and the car surged forward violently. There was horrendous crunching noise of metal scrunching up like an accordion. The car stopped so suddenly that Arthur, already so close to the windshield, bashed his skull against the cracked pane and succumbed to the blackness.