I'll Be There

Rating: T

Summary: Whenever the pain came, you came with soothing words. When I fell, your hand came to help me up. When I was alone, you came to give me company. But…you didn't have to...when, the car came, you didn't have to take the fall… unrequited RusAme. Shounen-Ai

BrooklynBabbii


Author Alert:

Story alert/ Favorites: **Animateia, Sora Moto, The Vampire Alchemist, ChibiHetalia, Leylani-sama, Neverwinternightsgirl777, Ayai, AllyMCainey, Maxiay, ChildofStorms, **

Reviewer(s)!: ** PrussiaRocks, Leylani-sama, Animaegan, Neverwinternightsgirl777, Guest, easha, GilbirdAttack, Hello**

PrussiaRocks: I'm happy to hear that you enjoy this story and await more of its updates. Alfred's mom is going to be a bit difficult, not to write, but to Arthur/Ivan. And yes! Engwand is HERE! :D

Leylani-sama: Alfred's mother's reasons are a mystery. You'll soon find that Alfred has scars from mother, as well, beyond the physical ones. *le gasp* Yes, our dear and beloved Russian is not Mr. Popular like in my other stories. Yes, Ivan dies, but not for a while. It is Alfred loving Ivan. Ivan does not love Alfred, well, not in that way.

Animaegan: Yes, an English appearance. ^^ Good luck trying to catch up with my stories! :D

Neverwinternightsgirl777: I'm glad you think so, and yes, Ivan play detective! XD I will continue this story. It's fun to write.

Guest: Update is here. Read it. Now. Danke.

easha: Suspense is fun! And you were spot on with it, she does have post-natal depression. Now, what else does she suffer from? Have you guessed it yet? (Yes, leave the writing to me, it will get done sooner, that way.)

GilbirdAttack: Yes, our favorite Englishman is here. I know what's going on with her. But I'm allowed to say it. Author's Responsibilities and Notations, Section 39 of Paragraph 12: Rule #456 on page 682. ["Authors are not allowed to give out key plot elements and/or secrets. This is prohibited against, as it takes off from the allure of a good and suspenseful story."] XD

I tried to give hints as to who she is: she's England's sister. (Think. Ja! Leave the work to Ivan. *hides with you* G-go away, Belarus…)

Hello: Gladly, I like working with this story. I'm happy to hear that your interest was caught by it. ^_^

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Recommended Listening: "I'll Be There" by Tiffany Evans

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Arthur was both overjoyed and suspicious of how his nephew was in his backseat, sleeping soundly, with only a few tears tracks drying on his little pudgy face. Arthur checked his mirror, and saw that Alfred was still asleep; he bit his lip, but made a careful turn into a residential area. His apartment was coming up, and he parked his car.

As he left his seat, he looked back at Alfred, and tried to remove the child carefully. He was nearly up the stairs, when he started thinking. Like really thinking of everything he knew so far.

His sister was either missing, or out of her mind to not have retrieved her child.

Alfred had strange bruising and scars, that Arthur knew weren't there the last time he had gone to visit his nephew in the last year.

He really needed to get with the authorities on this.

Arthur sighed, as he sat Alfred on his hip, and used his foot to shut the car door behind him. He was walking up his stairs, enjoying the sun's warmth on him, when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He rolled his eyes. He had a child in his arms; did they really expect him to answer?

Ignoring the frantic buzzing, and the muffled voicemail afterwards, he continued on up. He heard a few women coo at the sleeping child on him, a few asking if it was his and Arthur having to say no and that he was just an uncle. He didn't want to be rude, but some days, he wished he wasn't raised by his mother.

Speaking of mothers…

What the Hell had happened to Alfred and his mother, when he had left almost a year ago? It was late now, the Englishman realized. He hadn't even noticed, the sun had gone down and was now replaced with a half-full moon. The stars were just starting to come out.

Arthur blinked, trying to remember where time had gone. He had come home, and tried to cook for Alfred, but failed. So he had ultimately called an old roommate and 'asked' him to make something. It had nice at first, when Francis had taken to Alfred almost immediately. But Alfred had hid under the bed, and it taken nearly half an hour to convince the child, that Francis was a friendly frog.

Even after, Alfred wasn't much convinced, and he ate by Arthur's side. Francis had tried to act like it hadn't bothered him, but Arthur knew better. Francis had volunteered to watch the boy, while Arthur ran a few errands. But when he came back, not even an hour later, he found Alfred crying under the bed yet again.

This time, Arthur hadn't been able to fully console him. Francis said he hadn't done anything, and that he only offered to give the boy a treat if they played a game, but Alfred had cried and ran off. Arthur had apologized, and while Francis was still confused about the situation, he had said he was going back to his own loft.

Arthur had shut the door behind him, and tucked in a sleeping Alfred into his bed, Arthur could sleep on the couch, tonight. But before the Englishman could tuck the boy into bed, he given him a bath and found it unusual that Alfred tried to keep his back from sight the whole time.

So there Arthur was now, as he paused in writing the rough draft of his paper, his motions stilling to almost and then nothing. He just sat there, at his desk, thinking deeply. His pen tapped out a rhythmic tune against the wooden surface.

Green eyes rose from the series of papers on his desk, with their red and blue ink, yellow highlighter, and his laptop with a half-finished research paper, and then he looked to the nearest window. The little window above the apartment kitchen sink, its little view boasted a pretty sight of the little pond and willow below.

But Arthur's mind was far from his downstairs oasis; his mind was on the odd reaction coming from his nephew. That teenager, Ivan, hadn't looked like the type to beat or frighten children. He looked like an introvert, like Arthur had been in his teen years.

Arthur tilted his head, a bit, thinking on everything he knew at that moment. He listened to the sound of the city outside his window, the faint hum of passing cars below, and the tiny click-clack of pedestrians passing his building by in their daily lives.

He suddenly frowned, as his mind conjured up the image of Alfred' back in the bath, the bruises there. Ivan's face came to his mind, but he immediately dismissed it. Alfred seemed to genuinely like Ivan, and besides the bruises were too old for the past few days that both Alfred and Ivan claimed to have spent together. Not to mention, the bruises didn't look like anything Ivan could have done. They were too long and small, about a slim hand's mark.

The bruising wasn't from Ivan. It was someone else. But the question was, as Arthur pondered on it, right as he heard a series of loud knocks coming from his door. He called out to them, forgetting his little houseguest, and told them he was coming. But he still wondered:

Did he really want to know?


How was this chapter?

I was working on this a few days ago…but I fell asleep and totally forgot to post the new chapter. ;.; I'm so sorry! I was so tired; school has really been whipping me back into shape. v.v

My professors don't take shit, and with my German OCD…yeah, a lot of late nights, going: 'It has an end. The numbers will stop…I only have a few more reports and research papers to write. It's okay, there's coffee and Internet…'

But my brother broke my coffee cup SOMEHOW. So now, I'm screwed. v.v

Pray for me~

READ AND REVIEW.