Hey there~!

'Kay, quick little note here. When I update this fic from now on, the chapters aren't going to be as long as the main two chapters, but instead feature single scenes. These scenes also won't necessarily be in chronological order, so I'll give an approximate date up in these author's notes.

This takes place about four months after Arthur's hospital stay, and unfortunately Lovino is absent. Sorry, but have a little UKUS familial hurt/comfort. ;)

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Goddamn it.

Goddamn it.

Goddamn it!

Arthur was fuming. Comparing that word to how he actually felt at the moment was an understatement. Racing around his apartment, he grabbed his keys, threw a shirt that was crumpled in a corner over his torso, and yanked his boots on. Right as he locked his door a smell reached his nose. With a slew of curses the man hurriedly dashed back into the room to flick off a burner on his stove. Now that he was sure he would not burn down the entire building, Arthur ran to the parking lot.

Stupid stupid stupid! No, his cousin was not the sharpest tool in the shed, but damnit Arthur knows that he's smarter than this! He had just received a call from the idiot. Alfred sounded panicked and so small over the loud static and music in the background. Explaining that he lied to his parents, the boy said had gone to a party. If it were only a party consisting of high schoolers pretending to be more mature than they really were, his stomach would not be doing somersaults. This was a party not unlike the ones Arthur himself had frequented only a few short years ago. Red clouded his vision, and he knew it was only there to cover up how outrageously worried he was.

Arthur only knew the name of the street since his cousin was unsure of the exact address. That was enough, though, and the Brit turned the ignition and flew out of the complex. He had tried to stay on the line with Alfred, but something happened and now his calls go straight to voicemail. Damnit, his stress levels could not be any higher than they were right then. Too many possibilities flashed across his mind of what could be happening to the boy, and it scared him.

Checking the clock, the man saw that it was almost a quarter until one. Not enough time for such a gathering to become uncontrollable, but definitely enough to put Alfred in danger. Now was a very bad time to get pulled over, but it was proving difficult to follow the speed limit. Because it was a Saturday night (or rather, Sunday morning), there were enough automobiles on the street to be time consuming. Quite a few were obviously being controlled by an intoxicated driver, but he could cut them off easily enough.

As Arthur turned on to the destined street, he smartly parked right on the curb. It was obvious that something big was going on. Vehicles lined the street, and he could not find many places to park. There were even a few driveways being blocked by inconsiderate, lazy assholes. Emerging from his piece of shit car, the Englishman immediately began to stride up the sidewalk. It was easy enough to pick out the offending house. Whoever was in charge was not stupid, because there was a minimal amount of people mingling on the front deck. Though, the driveway was flooded, and commotion could easily be heard drifting from the back yard. Arthur made a beeline for the door.

With a confident gait, the blonde let himself in. Everything from those times came back to him, and it was all too easy to revert back into that old state of mind. Smoke and alcohol and sex lingered throughout the stale air. Arthur knew that his face was one of void indifference, and he knew it would stay that way until he could get out of this atmosphere. It felt like his mind was both calm, and being upturned by a whirlwind, and he needed to find Alfred and leave. The door shut behind him.

Familiarity greeted him, but it was far from nostalgic. even though he had not been in such a scene for years, it was all exactly the same. Patches of people ranging from fifteen to forty crowded the interior of the house; some even recognized by the man, and he prayed that they did not remember him. They shouldn't, and he did not want to raise any unnecessary attention by staring. Beer bottles and ugly red plastic cups littered almost every surface the eye could see. Quite a few patrons had cigarettes hanging from their mouths or fingers, and fuck Arthur's insides cried for a drag. But no, he had quit months ago, and did not want to submit to the addiction again. Then there were others smoking or rolling blunts with yellowed fingers. Alfred was not in this area.

In the kitchen Arthur found a couple of boys in their late teens making a bong from a soda can. They were obviously under practiced. A group of girls clustered in a corner, tittering much too loud about who they wanted to take upstairs. Looking out the window, Arthur could see a game of beer pong taking place. Another part of the yard had housed a group doing jello shots off of topless women. Others were scattered about, but no Alfred.

So he decided to find the stairs. Hoping to any deity who would listen that the boy was intelligent enough to stay away from the basement at all costs, Arthur ascended to the next level. Couples clotted that stairway, sucking and dry humping one another shamelessly. He paid them no mind and continued, trying to keep unwanted images from crawling to the front of his psyche. Even though the smoke was thinner up here, the undeniable scent of pheromones was heavy. Knowing not to open any of the doors, Arthur trekked around the floor. One room did not have the door shut, and the man knew that if he were his past self, he would have not thought twice about entering and joining their erotic play. The thought disgusted him.

A couple of rooms further, and he finally caught sight of the boy. Backed against a wall, Alfred was flanked by two girls who seemed as if they had barely hit puberty. They were unabashedly invading his personal space, thin hands touching and running over him. Brightly flushed, the tall blonde stuttered for them to stop. Arthur could tell he had been drinking, and was sure the large amount of fumes had somehow messed with his brain as well. Alfred wanted to push the girls away from him, but even in the haze he was in his chiviorusity remained in tact. Taking matters into his own hands, the Brit crossed the room and yanked the girls away. They fell to the carpet in inelegant heaps, but they wouldn't remember come morning. No one stood to help them.

"Arthur!" gasped Alfred, relief shining through his anxious expression.

Behind his bored facade, the man sent him his most harsh, scolding glare. Alfred flinched. Grasping the younger boy's wrist, Arthur turned and dragged the other away. His cousin held his eyes on the floor, and the Englishman knew that he saw what was happening beyond that open door earlier. At the bottom of the staircase there was a cry of "Kirkland!" A man with dark hair and eyes could be seen weaving his way through the crowd towards them. Arthur knew this man, knew him both very well, and not at all. His name escaped the Brit, but it did not matter. Without another glance he continued to shuffle to the front door. Random strangers attempted to start conversation with the two blondes, but the man shrugged them off. Snobby words called after them, and it was laughable. Those words meant nothing.

Outside gifted them with tranquility. Smokers lazily gazed after them as they went down the steps, but soon lost interest. Arthur was ecstatic to leave the premises; it was bringing back memories he buried a long time ago. Shoes clomped down the pavement, and a couple of cars swerved down the road before they made it to the corner. Releasing Alfred's arm, he plopped in the car. The boy stood still for a second, then followed. With an unhealthy roar of the engine, the duo drove off.

"I'm-"

"Don't," he cut off. "Just shut up."

Now that his cousin was safe, there was nothing to distract Arthur from his rage. It would not be good for him to talk right now. From past experience he knew that his mouth would run faster than his brain could keep up with, and that would not help anything. His focus also needed to be kept on the road, and screaming at Alfred would definitely be too distracting to be considered safe. So for the time being Alfred would have to suffer in silence, which was a suitable beginning to his punishment since the boy could not stand quiet.

Driving home seemed to go a lot faster than leaving, and for that Arthur was grateful. Wordlessly, they entered his building and climbed to his floor. The man saw that he forgot to lock the door after shutting off his stove. Fantastic. From the corner of his eye he could see the other fidgeting. Pointing to the sofa, he left Alfred to sit while he left for his room. He needed to clear his head.

Slumping onto his bed, the Brit took a couple of needed breaths before pulling out his cell phone. Calling the police, he tipped them off about that party. Maybe he would save some unknown souls from throwing their lives away like he almost did. After the call he relaxed into his mattress. It was a crappy mattress that squeaked and sunk in spots, but buying a new one with his funds was impossible. Closing his eyes, Arthur let his mind drift. Lovino must be asleep by now. He always went to bed early, even if it was the weekend. Arthur, on the other hand, lived by a weird sleep schedule because of his graffiti. He would usually go to bed around three or four in the morning, and wake up at noon or one in the afternoon. Once he forgot about how normal people were deep asleep when he was just starting to get tired, and called his boyfriend. Apparently Lovino took his sleep very seriously. That night Arthur had learnt to let sleeping Italians lie.

Thinking about his boyfriend had calmed the Englishman down significantly. He felt that he could now talk with his cousin without popping a blood vessel. With a sigh he rose from his bed and padded to where the other was. Alfred sat stiff as a board, and was staring straight across the room through Arthur's balcony doors. A couple of the brighter stars marked the inky blue sky, and the moon was glowing behind thin sheets of clouds.

Perching on the coffee table, Arthur gave the other no choice but to face him. It was apparent how badly Alfred wanted to talk. It was eating away at the boy, and he figured it would be better to first hear what he had to say and base his lecture on that. "Explain."

Blinking, Alfred startled from his thoughts. Nothing happened for a few seconds, and then he opened his mouth. "My friend said he was going to this party tonight, and asked if I wanted to come. I've never been to a big party before, and I really wanted to go, so... I did..." An impressive eyebrow raised, and Alfred's posture told him how intimidating he must have looked. "But I didn't know it would be like that! I swear! I thought it was going to be, like, a bunch of kids from school and stuff! I swear I wouldn't have gone if I knew it was going to be so..." Again, he trailed off, not knowing what word to use.

"Fucked up?" supplied Arthur. Alfred nodded slowly. "Why didn't you turn right around when you saw what was happening? I'm a little less furious since you didn't know what you were getting into, but once you saw you should have left!"

Shrinking under the Brit's stern glare, he mumbled, "I know..." A breath. "But it wasn't like that at first. It was just, like, a bunch of people my age drinking, but then more people came, and they started doing more stuff, and I just..."

Inwardly sighing at the boys pitiful demeanor, Arthur took his hand. Alfred didn't know the world he knew. How much a person could change while under the influence of alcohol or drugs. Sure, he's seen plenty of his family drunk, and from tonight the man knew that he has experimented with liquor hisself, but never to such an extreme. Arthur never wanted him to experience that part of humanity. It hurt to know that he had.

Before he began to speak, he made sure the other was listening. Alfred did not need to be told off right now. His lesson had been learned. Once the younger's full attention was on him, he began his story. "Back in high school, I frequented parties like that. Almost every weekend." Blue eyes were wide, and light from the uncovered moon illuminated them to create an unearthly color. It was ethereal, and very sad. "I was exactly like those people. I drank until I couldn't remember my name, and worked on my high the entire night. My voice never used to be so raspy," he chuckled humorlessly. "It felt so good, like I was floating in a space where there was only nothingness. I had no problems, and all of the strangers surrounding me were suddenly my best friends. And God did I get philosophical... Then after a particular point my memories always got hazy, and I'd wake up the next day in some form of nudity feeling absolutely disgusting more times than not." The hand in his flexed, and Arthur noticed he was gripping the other so hard that his knuckles were bone white. Loosening, he did not let go. "I hated it, Alfred. I really did. I hated myself, and hated how much I loved it. If you had not stopped me when you did," a pause, "my life would be completely worthless."

Sniffles filled the space, and shocked green met watery blue. "I'm sorry, Arthur. I was just-just so scared. I didn't know what to do, and I ran upstairs 'cause I thought there would be less people there, and someone spilled beer on my phone, and then no one would leave me alone-" Clasping a hand over Alfred's trembling lips, the older man hushed. It was enough.

Moving to sit next to his near panicked cousin, he cradled a blonde head and pulled him down. Shifting until they were comfortable, Arthur let Alfred rest on top of him as they tangled together. "This is so gay," croaked Alfred, which the Brit responded with by holding him even tighter. The two lay like that for what seemed like hours. Occasionally a dampness would drip down Arthur's neck, and he would run his fingers through the boy's hair. It was greasy and dull from the night, and not very pleasant to touch. Actually, Alfred was quite filthy. Parts of his skin were sticky, and instead of his usual earthy odor, nothing but sweat and alcohol and smoke wafted from his form.

Softly tugging Alfred's locks, the man shifted. "You should take a shower," you smell like my nightmares. He kindly left the usual snark out of his tone, for his cousin did not need that.

A soft breath skimmed across his collar. "I'm tired... but I guess you're right." With a groan, Alfred lifted his body from the Brits. Listlessly stretching, he got off of the couch.

Before he had a chance to move, Arthur spoke up, "I'm calling your mother." Alfred froze. "I'm sorry, but this is something I refuse to keep between us. You have to understand that." As the taller blonde turned, he was sure he was going to be faced with those damnable puppy dog eyes. Something stopped him from doing so, though.

Shame overpowered the boy's expression, and it broke the Englishman's heart. Leaning over, Alfred cupped Arthur's cheeks and began to rub soothing circles into his flesh. "Okay, I understand, just... stop looking like that."

For Alfred to do such a thing, his face must have truly been one of desperation.

Continuing to massage Arthur's face, the other stopped only when it was normal enough for his liking. After one last, long moonlit glance between them, the younger boy straightened and left for the bathroom. Arthur would have to dig around in his drawers for a set of spare clothes. Positive there was some of Alfred's tucked away somewhere, he resigned himself to search for them. After he finds them, the man would have the pleasure of calling his aunt and explaining what had happened. At two-thirty in the morning. Fuck his life.

And, because he loves Alfred so fucking much, he would argue with Amelia for who knows how long trying to get Alfred a less severe castigation. The boy may feel horrible, but he had better appreciate what Arthur was doing for him. It was going to be a long day, he inwardly groaned.

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A little more on the inner workings of Arthur's mind. He used to be pretty fucked up.

Don't worry, Lovi will be back soon. I've just had this scene in my head since before most of the already written story! Lol.

I hope you enjoyed anyway~. This feels so short, but it's almost 3k.

And thank you EVERYONE for your reviews! They make me oh-so-happy! *kisses*