A/N: I'm sorry that I haven't updated anything in forever. I just recently moved and I don't have internet. I'm trying to update as soon as possible on everything, but it will just take some time. Sorry for the inconvenience.

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Alfred approached Arthur after lunch that day. "What did you spend all morning talking to Yao about?" he asked, sitting in the recliner next to his. He pensively stirred at his decaffeinated coffee before peering up at his companion with curious blue eyes. "I mean, you two were talking for a long time…" He took a sip of the coffee, burning his taste buds on it and making a sour face.

Arthur sighed and stirred his tea with his straw. "Nothing really. Dr. Wang and I talked about a lot of my favorite things and how to incorporate them into my life." He took a sip and smiled in satisfaction. "He's allowing me to drink tea whenever I wish, and not just at snack times." The Englishman slurped the tea extra loud while sticking his middle finger up at his companion, who grinned.

"Well aren't you just something special, Arthur?" he laughed. "What kind of tea is that anyway?"

"Never you mind," Arthur stated, cradling it to his chest as if it were a small child in need of comforting. "So why do you call Dr. Wang by his first name anyway? It's quite odd really." He cocked his head to the side. "I assume you were familiar with him at one point. Perhaps childhood friends? Roommates? Rivals?"

"Lovers," Alfred corrected with a wink. He laughed at Arthur's shocked expression. "Why do you look so surprised? Are you shocked that I could score a guy like Yao or something?" His grin widened. "Wait, I know what it is. You didn't know I'm gay, did you?" Alfred cackled with laughter at Arthur's expression. "That's totally it! You just weren't expecting me to be gay!"

"Well it is rather shocking," Arthur quietly admitted. "How can you be so loud about it?" He was quite horrified at the fact that Alfred was boasting about his sexual orientation and past lovers so openly. What ever happened to humility or "keeping things on the down low"? "I mean, aren't you at least a little, I don't know, shy about it?"

"Why would I need to be shy about who I am?" Alfred asked, smiling brightly at his roommate. "I'm quite proud of the way I am, actually. I go to the Pride parade in Des Moines every year."

"Pride parade?" Arthur asked. He bit his lip as he imagined Alfred walking around in rainbow attire, waving an LGBT flag around. Something about it seemed inspiring, almost making him want to write about it. "That sounds incredible! What sort of things do you wear there?"

The American winked at him. "One year, I went in leather pants and combat boots. That was a particularly hot year."

Arthur felt his cheeks heating up as he imagined Alfred in tight, leather pants; pants that hugged his every possible curve back when he was healthy like his brother. His mind began to wander further as he imagined a sweaty Alfred in leather pants on a hot day. Before it could wander too far, Alfred brought his attention back.

"Me being gay doesn't bother you, does it?" Alfred asked him, blinking his eyes in confusion. He was watching Arthur and couldn't tell if his horrified look was out of amusement or disgust. Having not known Arthur for very long, he couldn't properly gauge the reaction.

The Englishman was silent for a few moments. "It doesn't bother me in the least," he finally said. "I just never thought I would come across a kindred spirit in a place like this."

"Kindred spirit?" The blond squinted his blue eyes as he processed what the other was saying. "Wait, you're gay, too?"

Arthur shushed Alfred, putting his hands over the American's loud mouth. "Not so loud!" he hissed. "Do you think I want anyone to know?"

"Why wouldn't you? It's who you are," Alfred answered, confused. "You should never be ashamed of who you are, Arthur. Trust me, it doesn't work well for you." He looked down at his body and sighed. "It does things to you that you never thought would ever happen."

"Tell me something, Alfred," Arthur stated. "You weren't bullied as a child, were you? You do this to yourself because you don't like who you are."

"Shut up!" Alfred suddenly snapped. "You don't know anything, Arthur!" He jumped up from his chair, even though he knew they were supposed to be sitting down. Though he knew his roommate was right, he would never admit something like that so easily. "You think you know everything, but you don't! You think you're some big shot here, but you're not! You're just another person who couldn't do the final thing they were supposed to do! I mean, seriously, how do you fuck up shooting yourself?!"

The look of devastation on Arthur's face was one that Alfred would never forget. Arthur's emerald green eyes held pure betrayal and despair. He made a mental note of it to think about later as he bolted toward their room.

If there was one thing Alfred hated about himself more than anything, it was how hateful he was toward the people who only wanted to help him. He hated that he was mean to Arthur when his roommate did nothing wrong. Why did he impulsively say such hateful things to anyone who ever tried to get close to him? He knew why, but he didn't want to accept it yet. It was too soon, and "bipolar" was such a scary word.

Alfred ran into the bathroom of their shared room and tucked himself into the corner with the toilet in fetal position. All that he had struggled with and worked for these past few months was about to be thrown away and flushed down the tubes, literally. He could feel his lunch coming up his throat as he sat there, sobbing. Why did he always screw things up like that? Why did he always relapse when someone knew came along?

He heard the nurses come into his room just as he finished vomiting. Alfred knew that he was done for in their eyes. He was going to get it, and he was going to get it hard. It wasn't fair. All he wanted was a hug and to be told that everything would be okay, but he knew that he would never get that, especially after most likely triggering Arthur as well.

"Alfred, come out of there," Amber said through the door, knocking on it. "We know what you did. It's just me in here. I think we need to talk."

The boy slowly opened the door and looked up at his nurse, reminding her of a puppy who knew it was in trouble for tearing up the house while the owner was gone. "I don't want to talk, Amber," he choked out. "I just ruined everything out of impulse once again. We don't need to talk." He held his head in his hands. "I'm never going to get better. Why can't you all just give up on me?! I'm a fucking lost cause anyway!"

"Alfred, look at me," Amber said. She refused to speak until the teenager raised his eyes to meet hers. "I will never give up on you. You want to know why? It's because I have been working with you, off and on, for almost two years now. You can beat this if you just try."

"I'm tired of trying!" Alfred yelled at her. "I'm tired of it! I just fucking triggered a suicidal patient because they overstepped their boundaries! I did it before I could stop myself! It's because of me that Arthur probably wants to die right now!" He ripped off his glasses and threw them on his bed before pressing his fists to his eyes. "I can't do anything right!"

"Is that what this is really about?" she softly asked. "It's about Arthur, isn't it? A new patient comes along, suddenly he gets too close. You get scared and think, 'I need to hurt him before he hurts me,' and here we are. This happens every time we get a new EDO, Alfred. You need to stop doing this."

"But how?!" he demanded. "How am I supposed to stop when I don't even know how I start in the first place?!"

"Please stop yelling, Alfred," Amber warned. "If you don't stop, you'll have to go to the Quiet Room in the back, and I know you don't want that."

Alfred fell to his knees, sobbing once more. "Arthur's going to hurt himself, and it's all my fault!" he wailed into his hands as he covered his face.

"We're not going to let him hurt himself," she quietly assured, struggling to bring Alfred's anxiety down. "Please take some deeps breaths." She didn't care how long she had to wait, she wasn't going to leave her patient alone when he was like this.

Once Alfred was calm, Amber looked him directly in the eye and said, "Your time here restarts now."

.

Arthur, on the other hand, was quiet, having soaked in every word Alfred had said to him, like an anxiety sponge or something. Alfred's voice rang in his head, over and over. I mean, seriously, how do you fuck up shooting yourself?! It taunted and teased at his mind over and over. How did he fuck it up anyway? What was so hard about shooting yourself in the head?

"No," he softly said to himself. "Don't think that way." His eyes stung with tears. He thought he was getting along with Alfred, but then this happened. What had he done wrong? Did Alfred want him to kill himself?

"Arthur?" Jan asked, placing a hand on his arm. "Are you okay? Alfred was pretty harsh back there."

He blinked back the tears that stung at his eyes. "I'm fine," he managed to say. It was obvious that he wasn't, though. Anyone with more than two brain cells could tell that Alfred's words had really fucked him up. "Don't worry about me."

"I will worry about you," Jan stated. "You didn't deserve Alfred's wrath. Usually only doctors get it." She frowned. "Alfred can be a bit testy at times, but I hear he's bipolar, so it's only natural for him."

"Bipolar?!" Arthur incredulously asked. "That's no excuse for him telling me to basically kill myself!" He was fuming. "I want out of this bloody place now!"

A nurse came running over. "Arthur, we need you to calm down."

"I will not be calmed!" he nearly shouted. "You're going to let him get away with saying those things to me?! I should go kick his bloody arse!" He didn't care that his English side was showing at this moment. He was too pissed off to care. He didn't even notice the aching in his jaw anymore. "I'll kill him!"

"You can't be threatening other patients like that," the nurse stated in a calm voice. "Arthur, you need to go to the back."

"I need to go to the back?!" he demanded. "How about you bloody make me! I'll fight all of you!"

"Please don't make this difficult and just go to the back," she softly said. "We don't want to have to call in other people to help us."

"Bring them on!" Arthur shouted. "I can handle them! I didn't grow up with older brothers for nothing!" He could nearly feel his blood boiling inside of him. All he wanted was to tear Alfred to shreds for saying something so horrible to him!

The entire dayroom was suddenly empty, except for Arthur and five big nurses. He fought as much as he could, but they dragged him to a small room in the back with nothing in it. The last thing he remembered was being changed into a hospital gown and getting a shot in the rear end. After that, things just got sort of fuzzy for while.

.

Arthur was finally thinking more clearly by dinnertime, having taken a nap in the QR. There was only one thing he didn't appreciate about dinner. Alfred was seated across the table from him at a table for two. He was still internally fuming at the teenager, who looked as if he had had the worst day of his life. What did Alfred have to be upset about? He was the one who started it all when Arthur was the one just trying to help!

Alfred looked up at Arthur for a moment before averting his eyes. He knew that the Englishman's trip to the QR had been his fault. All he could do now was hope for a chance to apologize as soon as possible. If he didn't, then Arthur might switch rooms the next time they got a new male patient. He didn't want that.

He tapped his foot against Arthur's under the table, the Englishman giving him an irritable look. Alfred offered him an apologetic smile, but Arthur was having none of it. "Come on," Alfred tried to encourage.

That just got Arthur fired up again. "Come on?" he asked through gritted teeth. "You expect everything to be fine and dandy after what you said to me earlier? I've got news for you. That's not how things work with me! You can't say horrid things like that and expect to get away with them because you have a charming smile."

"Look, I'm sorry, Arthur," Alfred began. "I didn't mean what I said to you earlier."

"If you didn't mean it, then why say it?"

"You don't understand-"

"You're absolutely right, Alfred. I don't understand." Arthur threw his hands in the air, exasperated. "I don't understand what made you say something like that to me when I was only trying to understand you better."

Alfred was silent for a moment. "I'm scared of getting close to people, okay?" he finally muttered. "I can't let people in." He looked away from Arthur and kept his eyes down. "I should have warned you of that ahead of time."

"Yeah, then I could've just never talked to you and not have gotten a shot in my arse," Arthur grumbled at him. "But if you insist that you're sorry, I guess I can accept your apology." He offered Alfred a half-smile as he took a sip of his pureed carrots. The taste was atrocious, but he knew he had to drink it if he wanted to get up from the table.

"That face you made right there," Alfred said with a grin, "is why carrots are on my Hate Food list." He smirked at Arthur. "Carrots, peas, and corn."

"Corn?" Arthur asked, smiling a little wider. "But you're from Iowa. How can you not like corn? Isn't that a staple food of this state right there? I mean, there's even a Sweet Corn Festival somewhere in the state every summer."

Alfred snickered. "Doesn't mean I have to like corn. Besides, the corn here tastes like plastic."

"Agreed," Arthur sighed with a nod, having eaten the corn for lunch. "They wouldn't even let me put butter on it."

"'Because it's not a condiment,'" Alfred mocked, raising his voice to sound like Amber. "God, I hate hearing them say things like that. Why can't we just have our food the way we like it? What is so wrong? At least we'd want to eat it then!"

"Alfred, lower your voice," Amber said from the food cart next to him.

The blond rolled his eyes. "I know, I know," he groaned. "We're eating." He shook his head. "Doesn't mean I can't get excited about things."

"But the things you're getting excited about are things that will never happen, so it's not even worth wasting your breath, Alfie," she answered with a smile. Oh, that smile. Arthur was beginning to hate it. It was too plastic-y for him.

"I hate it when you call me that," Alfred groaned.

Amber laughed. "Good. It's my own form of torture for you."

"You're a pain." Alfred took a bite of green beans and sighed. "Can I get some salt?"

"Your diet is low sodium," Amber reminded. "You can't have that, and you know it."

"Why did you have to restart my diet too?" Alfred asked her. "I can't live on such small portions. My mom said I'm a growing boy. I need my food."

Arthur flicked his pureed smoothie, smiling to himself at the exchange. "I'm a growing boy, too. I need actual food."

"Arthur, your jaw is broken," she reminded. "You can't have actual food."

The Englishman muttered to himself about the hospital staff being ninnies and the like as Alfred snickered to himself. This was going to be an interesting mealtime.

.

After dinner, Alfred sat next to Arthur in a recliner. He groaned as he popped the footrest up and got his phone out of his pocket. "Amelia is so pissed at me," he said.

"Oh really?" Arthur asked, raising his eyebrows. "And why is that? She found out you got your entire program restarted?"

"Exactly," Alfred answered. "I'll never hear the end of it." He placed a hand to his cheek as he sighed out, reading over the messages on his phone. "She's really pissed. Amelia is going to lecture me good when she sees me tomorrow for church."

"I forgot that tomorrow is Sunday," Arthur groaned. "We're going to church, aren't we?"

"Bright and early," Alfred assured with a smile.

"I really don't want to go."

"I really don't care. You're going." He smirked at his English companion. "Amelia is excited to meet you, and I know you're just going to love her. But you won't be in love with her because of our kindred spiritness or whatever."

Arthur rolled his eyes, wishing he had never said a thing to Alfred about being gay. He knew it was only going to cause trouble like this. Alfred was just going to offhandedly mention it constantly and it'll get old very fast. That was just the way things seemed to go from what he could tell about his roommate. Not that he could really fight it. He had done enough fighting for that day.

"You look so tired," Alfred commented.

"You would be as well, if you got a shot in the arse with tranquilizers," Arthur bitterly commented. "My head has been entirely foggy all day because of it." He shook his head gently, so as not to hurt his jaw. "I can't do this every day, that's for sure."

"I noticed you talking to thin air earlier while we were on 'No Contact'," Alfred responded. "Something about fairies and unicorns."

Arthur turned a bright shade of crimson. "That's preposterous!" he indignantly stated. "I would never talk to fairies or unicorns."

"Yeah, when you're not high as balls," Alfred snickered. "But it's all good. We know what kind of day you had." He winked at his companion. "No need to get so defensive. We all do weird shit when on that stuff."

"Right," Arthur sighed. He just wanted the conversation dropped. It wasn't fair that Alfred now had something on him while he had nothing on Alfred. He made a mental note to try to get some dirt out if Amelia at church the next morning.

Alfred winked at him and popped the footrest up on his recliner. "I can't wait for you to meet my sister tomorrow! She's so awesome! Only she'll be a little less awesome tomorrow…"

"Because your stuff restarted?"

"Yeah," Alfred answered. "So if she's not as friendly as she'd normally be, you can blame me. It's my fault."

"I have no problem blaming you for things."

Alfred looked up at Arthur and smiled. "You don't, eh? Then I'll find things to blame you for as well." He just hoped that he could actually keep this friendship with Arthur, just the way it was.