Lol hi. I'm back and really sorry. Long story short, I was just going through some stuff and didn't feel motivated enough to write anything. I just sat there... on the couch... eating a lot of ice cream. But now I'm back but don't expect any fast updates because life is just so unpredictable...

btw i only looked through it like twice so if you see any mistakes tell me plz

Both of them sat silently on the cold wooden floor. The sobbing quieted down, the source was looking away from the other with wet cheeks and still watering emerald pools with red bags underneath. The other was staring intensely into thin air, where the paper and the figures were… alive. He was trying to grasp at what happened but nothing could explain the sights he'd seen, whispers he heard, and the misery expressed by Arthur. Alfred was right next to him but Arthur was millions and millions of miles away, in his own world, swirling with dark matter and dying stars. He asked him relentlessly about what he saw but there was no response. Arthur sat like a puppet with strings cut off along with the puppeteer, the one that made him scream and nearly take his life a few minutes ago. He stared at the clock, the food that he made would become cold if he waited any longer. He poked at the puppet, finding no sign of life. He made a decision to pick up the being once again and walk down the stairs, setting it onto a chair in front of the table where Alfred placed dinner. Its eyes closed and opened twice in a blur. It stared down at the luke-warm food. Then his eyes bounced back up, with more focus and humanity. He observed Alfred with wonder.

"This looks… pretty good."

Alfred was speechless, until he noticed that Arthur was the one who spoke and sputtered incoherent sentences.

"Um… thanks," he finally concluded.

Another moment of silence was shared but it was more pleasant and warmer than before. Alfred really wanted to discuss not only what happened upstairs, but the layers and layers of dust he found in the kitchen he found similar to his hometown in America being covered with fresh snow in the winter. Except the snow was old. Really old. How was he living with these conditions? Has he been ordering pizzas? Eating instant foods? Or was he… not eating at all?

The thought scared him but made sense because after carrying him twice, he knew that he was almost skin and bones. He could not help but notice while eating dinner that his eating habits were inconsistent and strange. He was observing a rapacious monster swallowing and only swallowing, only taking small breaks to consume glasses of water. When he finished, he looked as though he would throw up so Alfred stood up from his chair, walked over, and rubbed his back in small circles.

"Thanks for the food," he said in a near-whisper.

Alfred didn't respond.

"I know you want to take a shower. I'll go upstairs again and-"

Oh no you don't." Alfred practically shouted.

"I'll go upstairs and find clothes."

"But-"

Alfred was already stomping up the stairs. Arthur tried to follow but his legs failed him and he fell at a heap next to the chair. He lay there, not finding the energy to send his cries up a flight of stairs.

Alfred stared at the room, with the still-open door. It seemed safe but he couldn't be sure. What he saw wasn't a trick of the eye, it was a sinister parade of madness. A ritual and ceremony of bloodthirst and lust for vengeance. The glassy eyes of the reanimated things were aflame with malevolence. They beckoned despicableness within and released it in jeering cries and chants. He could still hear their bone-shuddering words causing goosebumps to crawl and settle on his skin.

It was strange. He was a pretty skeptical person but he wasn't in denial about what happened. Maybe because the scene caused him so much fear that he was shaken to believe. Or maybe because the green eyes that gazed at him were swarming with spirits and specters, lost things that can never be recovered. His eyes were two sets of broken mirrors, his tears were shards of glass.

It took him a while to gather up his courage and enter the room, his whole body tense and his feet tip-toeing. So far nothing supernatural was happening. He hurried over to something that looked like a dresser and started digging through. He found a shirt about his size and a pair of shorts that seemed a bit tight, but he could manage to fit in. He was about to scamper out of the room when something caught his eye. It was a picture, neatly put in a frame that was dotted with seashells. Four boys and a couple were standing in front of a sapphire ocean under a cerulean sky. They were all ridiculously tanned (probably forgot to wear sunblock because it was their first time at the beach) and beaming brighter than the sun peeking from above and into the picture. Three boys were unrecognizable but one certainly was.

Arthur

Was smiling

And was super adorable.

Young Arthur was clutching a red-head boy's arm tightly and was giving the dorkiest grin he had ever seen. It was filled with innocence and all kinds of good, it gave off a shine of certainty, of pure joy.

He couldn't stop the question that shoved itself into his mind.

Where did that little boy go?

No point pondering that now. The older, heavy-hearted version of the boy was downstairs, waiting, probably whispering curses of all kinds. He grabbed the clothes and walked out the room, all previous fear gone. He practically skipped down the stairs. When he finally came down to the dining table, he leaned over and faced Arthur with a dopey smile. He responded with a snort.

"So what's gotten you down to the ground?"

"... You arse."

He grabbed Arthur's hand and pulled him up without any effort. He wobbled a bit but was eventually able to stand up straight and tall, just like he always has been. All of the ghastly effects the incident caused him nearly disappeared, except his eyes still reminded him of a dead fish's and he still didn't make an attempt to try to explain what Alfred saw. He respected that though. He knew it was something he wanted to keep hidden and leave forgotten, everyone had their own little secrets. Except his secret isn't really… little.

They walked over to the couch slowly because Arthur still had jelly for legs and sat down. Alfred gestured over to a remote he saw on the table next to the couch but Arthur gently shook his head. He didn't feel like watching the telly and besides, he only had one channel. But Alfred looked bored and Arthur felt bad so he leaned over, swiped the remote, blew the dust away in clouds, and turned it on. It sparked to life and blared the news.

"Yes, we are all going through a great storm tonight, nothing we are not used to of course. It should be over by tomorrow morning and hopefully, we will be graced with a beautiful rainbow."

"Not possible" muttered Arthur quietly.

"Why not?" Alfred was curious.

"It does rain a lot here, as you know, but we rarely get rainbows here. If we do see one, it's enough to get the whole country screaming and running, calling for the Doctor and hiding the queen in a bunker."

"You watch Doctor Who?"

"Yes… more like used to. I watched some seasons until… But now I only have this channel so…"

"So you should come over sometime! Doctor Who's not that bad so we can marathon it 'cause I got a whole collection of DVDs we can watch."

Arthur gave him a look.

"Okay okay… I'm a dork for Doctor Who."

"Doctor Who's 'not that bad' when you have 'a whole collection of DVDs'? Really?

Alfred's face flushed with embarrassment.

Arthur's lips curled a bit and his eyes gleamed a bit more.

"Then… I guess I'll take up on your offer... To watch Doctor Who of course."

I love Doctor Who but I can't watch it any more because of... ahem... (Netflix)

So right now I'm filling the void with Supernatural... I really like it so far :D

((Oh yeah there's kind of a hidden reference in here somewhere if you can find it then you're amazing))