Well, I dislike war as much as the next man, Jones.
We Brits are also humans.
In fact, I hate war.
"Alfred!"
The American blinked and shook himself out of his daze. Matthew was walking next to him, drenched to the bone from the rain they had been walking in. Hie eyes were worried and he held Alfred's gaze sternly. Alfred sighed. "Sorry, I was just, out of it."
Matthew frowned and shook his head. "Are you sure you're ok?"
Alfred chuckled. "I'm fine, and you've already asked me that several times before Matt."
Matthew shrugged. "I am just worried. I mean you were being held captive in a Redcoat camp Alfred. That's pretty scary. I was seriously worried for you."
Alfred smiled. "Well, thanks Matt, but I'm really okay." Saying nothing more, Matthew nodded and focused his attention in front of him as they continued to walk forward. Alfred shifted his eyes back down into his hands where the rifle was. The gold around the edges of the gun glistened in the small amount of sunlight showing through the rainclouds. Alfred sighed. "Why'd I have to grab this gun. Out of all of the guns on the ground…"
War turns men into monsters that believe anything, my boy.
Alfred bit his lip. The Brit's green eyes were in his head again. Burning holes into his very soul. The American shook his head. He had to forget the man, he was the enemy. Though, he had treated him with such kindness and humanity. It was only nature to feel some sort of gratitude towards the Redcoat.
Arthur placed his hand on the young man's forehead. He sighed. "You're not as hot as you were yesterday, I believe you're going to make it Private."
They boy, not much older than seventeen smiled. "Thank you sir."
Arthur smiled sadly and walked out of the tent, stopping to so he could lean in to whisper in the Doctor's ear. "Don't let him know. I don't want to scare the boy, he's not even eighteen yet."
The Doctor nodded sadly. "Yes sir."
Arthur quickly walked out of the med tent and into the battle aftermath that was his camp ground. Dead rebels and his own men littered the ground. His nose wrinkled in disgust. Time to start writing. Walking quickly to his tent he sat down at his desk and leaned back, rubbing his temples. He shrugged off his red jacket and threw it on the floor.
Thump.
Raising an eyebrow at the heavy thump, he leaned over and began fishing through his jacket. "Ah-ha." He smiled and pulled out the small source of the noise. It was a leather bound notebook, almost bigger than the palm of his hand. He turned it over in his hand, finding a name imprinted on the front cover. "Alfred F. Jones." He sighed as the boy's blue eyes began to invade his mind again, then his golden hair, and lastly his lips. When they would stretch so gracefully to form that handsome yet sly grin he shot towards Arthur many times when they talked.
Arthur shook his head. "What the fuck are you thinking!" He groaned and rubbed his eyes. If anyone found out he was thinking about the rebel that way he would be thrown out for sure. Not to mention his preferences would be looked down upon in the first place. Sliding his thumb up the book he pressed down on the corner of the paper and began flipping through the journal for the latest entry.
One thousand miles.
We had to have walked at least one thousand miles by now. Finally we are able to get some rest, but I'm on watch. It's okay though, it gives me time to think. Sometimes I wish this war had never started. As I look up at the stars, I wish I was back at home, in my own bed, looking at the stars through my window. I wish I didn't have to be so worried I won't be alive to see Amy's next birthday or see my mom again. I don't really know what to write anymore, I'm just trying to stay awake. I feel really alone right now. I miss home.
Arthur felt his heart tug as he read the words. The passage was dated for yesterday, it must have been the night he was brought to the camp. The Brit flipped to the next page.
I'm in this stupid British camp now. I'm such an idiot for falling asleep. I only have a few minutes to write. They haven't tied my hands but my feet are chained to this stupid desk that belongs to the Lieutenant. I just met him. My stomach hurts like hell because he kicked me two times. But I guess I've had worse. He looks really young for a Lieutenant. His eyes are the more amazing green. They're very handsome. I probably won't see him again so it doesn't really matter, biy for a second when I saw him, I almost felt happy. Someone's coming. I'm still very lonely.
Arthur set down the book. "Handsome?" His stomach did a flip, making him dizzy. "No, no. I cannot think like this. I'm at war."
Till next time Kirkland!
Arthur gripped the book tightly as they blue eyes of the rebel crashed into his mind again. "Gah, fuck!" Throwing the book in his pocket, he grabbed his gun and coat. He stormed out of the tent towards the woods.
"Sir?"
Arthur turned around to find Peter staring at him, worried. He sighed. "I'm fine Peter. I just need some time to myself." Peter's gaze remained worried. "I just finished the letters."
The man nodded. "Ah, I see. Would you like anybody to accompany you sir?"
Arthur shook his head. "No. I'm not going far. Just for a quick stroll. If you hear gunshots or anything like that, come find me. I'll be in the perimeter."
Peter nodded. "Yes sir."
Arthur walked for about twenty minutes before sitting down on a rock. He set his gun down and leaned back on a tree behind him. He was hoping this walk would help clear his mind, but it only increased his thoughts on Alfred. He groaned. "Get out of my head." He sighed and reached into his satchel to grab some paper and tobacco. After making a cigarette he grabbed a match and began to smoke. He watched the smoke rise into the air and disappear over his head. He sighed, blowing some out through his nose. "Fucking joke, this is."
"You're telling me."
Arthur froze and his heart rate shot through the roof when something sharp was pressed against his back. The cigarette dropped from in between his lips and onto he ground. The sharp object pressed harder. "Stand. Up." Arthur slowly stood up, his eyes snapping to his hip where his other gun was holstered. He hand twitched at his side. "Don't, even think about it." The other growled.
Arthur smirked. "Whatever are you talking about?"
The men behind him chuckled. "I would hate to stain that lovely coat with your blood, so if you want to keep it clean, I suggest you behave."
Arthur's blood froze once again. The sarcasm dripping from that voice was unmistakable. His hands clenched and opened. He gulped. "Jones."
He heard the gun cock. "How the hell do you know-?" His voice dropped as Arthur turned his head, to look at Alfred. "Oh, shit." His hands tightened on the gun and he brought it up higher, aiming it at the Brit's head as he slowly turned to face Alfred. "Stand still Kirkland!"
Arthur's heart skipped a beat when his green eyes met Alfred's blue. "Fancy meeting you here Jones." He opened his arms. "Well go ahead then, shoot me."
Alfred held his gaze before reluctantly setting down the rifle. "A life for a life, now we're even."
Arthur smirked. "That was your mistake Jones." Before Alfred could react, Arthur kicked his rifle away and pulled out his own handgun from his holster, pointing it right between Alfred's eyes.
"Well, it seems my men aren't the only stupid soldiers at war then." Arthur chuckled. "Never put your gun down when facing an enemy."
