Way 3: Snow Part 2
Alfred laid on the bed, his clothes and shoes still on. He was on top of the covers with his hands behind his head. He couldn't sleep. He couldn't do anything, he was so consumed with worry. Why had Arthur not come yet? Was he alright? Did he get trapped in the storm?
Looking out the window, she snow seemed to be coming down harder. What if Arthur was out in the storm? It was a stupid thought, but he was worried. Arthur had not called nor sent any indication as to where he might be. This was very unusual for the Brit who would usually call or send word if he was going to be late. And he certainly would have found some way to contact the other nations if he had gotten trapped and knew he would be late. Alfred couldn't think of a single reason why he wouldn't have called. The only thing he could think of was the storm.
The American sat up and went to the closet. He pulled on his heavy coat on top of his bomber jacket, then gathered all of the blankets in the room and filled a backpack with food and water. He had a bad feeling in his gut that something was seriously wrong. Something was telling him that Arthur was somewhere out there and Alfred vowed to save him.
Wrapped up in a bundle of blankets and clothes, he made his way out into the always lit hallway. He was on the first floor, she the lobby was just down the hall and to the right. The lights in the lobby were dimmed, showing that it was closed to anyone wanting to pull in for the night, not that anyone would have been able to make it up the hill in this storm. One young woman was at the reception desk, flipping through a glossy magazine with lots of glitter and shiny pictures. She held her head up with her hand as her eyes skimmed over the pages. No one was going to come or go, but someone had to be at the desk at night for the guests already staying at the hotel.
She looked up when Alfred entered, a confused look expression quickly appearing on her face. "Sir?" she asked quietly, "What are you doing?" Alfred jumped, her voice startling him. He spun around to face her and quickly tried to think up a believable lie.
"Uh... Uh... I wanted to see how bad the storm is!" he said.
"There is a window in your room, sir. But you look like you're going to go out. I can assure you the storm will be over by tomorrow morning. We also have to ask that you do not take our blankets outside the hotel." The woman spoke in an official sounding voice.
"Oh, I got bored..."
"There's a television in your room, sir."
"I wanted company...?"
"I'm probably not the best company."
"I have insomnia!"
"Sir, go back to your room."
"Okay, uh... Sorry..." Shit! He was never going to get past the receptionist. Now how was he ever going to find Arthur? Sighing, he turned around and went back to his room. He didn't unwrap himself as he sat back down on the bed. Instead, he thought about what he could do.
"There is a window in your room, sir." Alfred's head snapped and he spun around, facing the wall-to-floor window by the desk. It looked like it might open wide enough to allow him to slip out. Maybe he could hop out the window.
Standing up, Alfred made his way to the window. He twisted the crank, the wind pushing against his efforts. He finally got it open and the cold air rushed into the hotel room. Snow fell onto the carpeted floor and Alfred shivered though he was wrapped up. Carefully, he managed to squeeze out the window. Just as he touched the snow covered ground, the window slammed shut behind him.
Taking a deep breath, he snuggled into the blankets and took a few steps forward. Instantly, the wind whipped the snow to covers his tracks. This made him incredibly nervous, but he pressed onward. He had to find Arthur. He didn't have much time if Arthur really was out in the storm. He had to find him before it was too late. And he just hoped he could.
Arthur slipped in and out of consciousness. Each time he would wake up, he would be in pain and would be freezing cold. He would snuggle into his still wet coat and sneeze, praying that sleep would come back to him quickly. And, if he was going to die, to just let it happen and take him out of this horrible suffering.
When Arthur awoke again at about two in the morning, the blizzard was still going on and the wind was hallowing loudly. His ankle throbbed something terrible and he just wanted to pass out again. He was just about to when he heard something. It wasn't the wind nor the pattering of hail he had experienced three hours before. No, this sounded like a human voice. He figured it was just a figment of his imagination and closed his eyes again. He was unconscious before he heard a twig snap.
Alfred crashed through the forest, searching frantically. He was guided by the dim light the clouds allowed from the moon and stars. The snow was falling still, but the wind was slowly dying down. He pressed himself into the blankets and clothing he wore as he marched forward. He stepped on a hidden branch and it made a loud popping sound. His head snapped up as he came out of the daze he had been in. His eyes glanced around the woods until their landed on a form slumped against a tree. It looked white, but it was too far up the tree to be just snow.
Alfred darted forward. As he neared, the form became a person who became Arthur. Alfred threw himself on the ground next to the Brit, the snow melting into his blankets. He touched Arthur's cheek and found it to be frighteningly cold. He tapped his cheek frantically as he felt for a pulse with his other hand. Thankfully, there was one, but Arthur was not waking up.
"Arthur? Artie! Wake up, please!" Alfred begged, shaking Arthur roughly. To his utter delight, he received a groan in response. One of Arthur's large eyebrows twitched before his eyes slowly opened.
The world was blurry and disoriented as Arthur regained consciousness. The darkness swirled around him and he could see a figure looming over him. He didn't have all of his senses back, so he did not feel nervous or scared. He blinked his eyes as the blurriness ebbed away. Then, he really saw him. "A-A-A-Alfred?"
Alfred smiled. "Hey, yeah it's me. I'm here to save you and be a hero and stuff." He took off two of his blankets and wrapped them around Arthur. Arthur shivered and looked up at him with half-lidded eyes. "Can you stand?"
Arthur shook his head quickly. "My ankle," he managed to mumble out. As he said that, the pain rushed back and he visibly winced. He bit his lip hard to prevent crying out and ended up accidentally drawing blood. Alfred looked at him worriedly and stood. He bent down and lifted Arthur into his arms, trying to be careful of the injured ankle. He wrapped the Brit up in another blanket, leaving him in only his ski coat and bomber jacket. Arthur continued to shiver and buried himself into Alfred's chest, praying the pain would leave him. He was also hungry and tired, but couldn't help but feel safe in Alfred's arms.
Alfred started walking, his jaw set and his determined. He turned around, figuring he'd go back the same way he came, but his footprints has disappeared. A cold shock rushed through him as he realized he was lost. He felt Arthur shivering in his arms and realized he had to find a way back or they would both be screwed. He had to trust his instincts now, so he marched forward.
Arthur fell back to sleep. As he lost consciousness, he forgot where he was. All he knew was that he was cold, but not as much as he had been before, and his ankle hurt. The pain didn't vanish as he slept, but he felt safe.
Arthur blinked awake an hour later. He felt himself moving, but wasn't walking.. His ankle throbbed and he was still freezing cold. He peeked out from under the blankets and sat the bottom of Alfred's chin. He could just see a glimpse of his blue eyes from behind his glasses. They were set straight ahead in a determined expression.
"Alfred?" Arthur asked, his voice scratchy and disoriented. "Alfred... Where are we? What are you doing?" Alfred blinked and glanced down at Arthur. He smiled softly before returning his focus to what he hoped was a path in front of him.
"Hey, Artie. We're in the woods and I'm trying to get us back to the hotel. I think I'm on the right path, but I dunno. The storm blew away my footprints, so I'm going pretty much on memory.
"What happened?" Arthur asked, still out of it.
"Well, you needa tell me," Alfred chuckled lightly. "All I know is that you never showed up to the hotel, so I went out to find you. You were cold, tired, and hurt, so I'm carrying you back. Speaking of which, how is your ankle doing?"
"It hurts like hell," Arthur mumbled as the pain returned with the thought. Alfred frowned and seemed to quicken his pace, though he should have known the pain wasn't just magically going to go away. Arthur watched his expression carefully as he walked. He was obviously determined, but his eyes held another emotion. It seemed like worry or concern. Specifically worry and concern for Arthur.
"Alfred, why did you come?" Arthur asked, deciding to voice the question that was bouncing off the walls of his mind and heart.
Alfred glanced down at him for a moment. "Because you didn't come and I figured that something bad had happened." He paused a moment and stopped walking, but continued after a short pause. "And, well... I was... I was worried about you." Had there been more light, Arthur would have been able to see the American blushing ever so faintly. Alfred would have seen Arthur's own blush.
Arthur nodded and his eyes slipped closed. Sleep started to encompass him again and he snuggled into Alfred's chest again. Alfred looked down at him and held him closer.
"I was worried... And I love you," Alfred whispered, thinking Arthur was asleep.
But he wasn't quite yet. That was the last thing he heard before darkness filled his senses again.
It seemed like he had been walking for days with the freezing Brit in his arms. Alfred felt close to collapse, but refused to give up. Arthur was counting on him.
The first light of dawn was peeking above the skyline when Alfred spotted the resort. The whole journey he had felt tired and half dead. Now, seeing the lights decorating the outside of the lodge, he felt alive and hopeful. The snow had since stopped; the blizzard was over. There was the lodge in front of them and now they would be alright.
Alfred hurried up the snow covered path to the front door, clutching Arthur close to him. When he entered, the receptionist was no where to be seen, so Alfred hurried down the hall. Thankfully, he had brought his room key with him when he went out. It was in his bomber jacket pocket and, honestly, he wouldn't have remembered it at all had it not been there. It was a good thing he had put it in his pocket and he never forgot his bomber jacket. He wore that thing everywhere.
The warm air really hit him for the first time when he entered the hotel room. The resort kept its hallways and lobby slightly chilly, but the guests could keep their rooms as warm as they liked. The first thing Alfred did when he entered the room was turn the heat way up. Then, he set the still unconscious Arthur on the desk chair and began unwrapping him from the cocoon of blankets. They were soaking wet, having absorbed the water and snow that was latched onto Arthur.
Alfred threw those blankets in the tub, then stripped Arthur of his drenched clothes and put him in one of his spare shirts and pajama pants. Both were far too big for the small Brit, but they would be perfect for sleeping in.
As he laid Arthur down on the bed. Alfred felt him shiver and Arthur coughed as he curled into the blankets. He was starting to warm up, but Alfred could tell he would have a temp in a little while.
As Alfred shifted the blankets, he heard Arthur yelp in pain and wince in his sleep. Oh! The ankle. He pulled up the covers by Arthur's feet and placed a pillow under his ankle to keep it elevated. The pain seemed to leave Arthur's expression and Alfred sighed with slight relief. The American then pulled up a chair and sat by Arthur's side. He took his hand and waited.
Arthur felt warm, possibly a little too warm, but that was fine with him. After what had happened, he was more than pleased with being too warm. It was much better than being too cold.
Carefully, he opened his eyes, the world coming back into view. He had to blink a few times to get rid of the ever present blurriness. As his vision returned, his senses did as well. He winced slightly, but the pain was dulled. He saw the ceiling looming above him and he could tell he was lying in a bed. His ankle felt much better and he could tell it was elevated a little.
Carefully, he turned his head to the side so as to not aggravate any sore muscles. A lump of dark blonde hair was nestled in pale white arms on the side of the bed. The one stray piece of hair sticking up told Arthur that the one at his bedside was none other than Alfred. He was slightly surprised before the full memories came rushing back to him. Alfred had come and gotten him out of the cold woods. He had saved him from a slow but almost certain death. And then he said something that Arthur knew instantly wasn't a dream.
I love you.
Arthur's heart skipped a beat and the memory of the words he had heard before falling asleep again. Did Alfred really...? It could just be a friend kind of love. But, no, Alfred had said it with such care that Arthur knew exactly what kind of love it was.
The hair shifted and there was a low groan. Alfred sat up and yawned. He rubbed his eyes and blinked, shifting his glasses he had never taken off back into place. Then his eyes landed on Arthur's and he smiled widely with joy.
"You're awake!" His voice was quiet which Arthur was thankful for. Arthur nodded, not speaking. "Are you feeling better, dude. I hope you're warm. Those are all the dry blankets I could find."
Arthur smiled softly at Alfred's worried expression. It was nice to hear the care in his voice. "I'm fine," Alfred choked out. His voice was scratchy and harsh from not having anything to drink and not talking for a while.
Alfred chuckled softly. "You sure don't look fine, Artie. I'm gonna take good care of ya, though, so don't be afraid to say you're in pain or need something. I'm just trying to help." He flashed a smile at Arthur who blushed deeply.
"Well... I'm fine," Arthur said lamely before breaking into a fit of harsh coughs. Alfred gently helped him sit up against some piled up pillows. He rubbed his back until the coughing started to die down and then went to the bathroom to get water. He returned with a paper cup filled with cold water from the tap. Handing it to Arthur, the Brit took it and drank greedily until it was all gone.
"Thank you," he said graciously, wiping his mouth. His speech was normal again, but he was still being quieter than usual.
"No problem, dude," Alfred smiled. Then, on the table his cell phone buzzed. "Shoot, I thought I turned it off. Least it didn't wake you." He frowned and walked over. He read the words on the screen before typing something in response. He put the phone on mute and stuck it in his back pocket.
"Just Mattie," Alfred explained when Arthur gave him a confused look. "He's keeping me updated on the meeting."
"The meeting!" Arthur shouted and started to jump up. Pain shot through his leg as he moved his injured ankle. Alfred gently pushed him back down, though Arthur glared at him with venomous green eyes.
"Don't worry about the meeting. I told everyone what happened and they told your boss. We all agreed that the most important thing was for you to get better. So, just relax." Alfred smiled softly and Arthur sighed, sinking back into the pillows. Alfred sat back down on the chair.
Arthur looked at Alfred curiously as the younger played with his phone. Did Alfred really love him? Well, why else would he say a thing like that in such a dire situation? Would he say it again? Something made Arthur hope he would. But that meant Arthur loved Alfred was well. Did he? Was he really in love with an obnoxious, loud-mouthed, burger eating American?
Yes.
Sure, Alfred had his flaws. He was rather obnoxious and spoke much too loudly. Sure, Alfred ate McDonald's much too often, but somehow managed to stay in shape. His plans were rediculous, he was far too hyper, and he acted like a kid all the time.
And Arthur loved ever bit of it.
He teased and was rude, but deep down he cared so much about the American. He loved his smile, his kindness, and his honesty. Alfred didn't lie often and sometimes hurt a lot of people. He also helped Arthur so much during the world wars. He gave more money and weapons to Arthur than to anyone else.
"I love you," Arthur whispered. He knew what he was saying and he felt he was ready to hear Alfred's response.
Alfred blinked and looked up, his mouth open. He had probably just heard wrong... right? He probably didn't hear what he though he just heard. What he wanted to hear...
"Uh... Did you say something?" Alfred asked. Arthur blushed deeply and looked down at the quilts. Great, now he was going to have to say it again because the git had a bloody hearing problem!
"Yes... I love you."
For a long time, there was silence. Alfred was in shock and Arthur refused to look up. He thought he had crossed the line. Now, Alfred would never talk to him again. He had blown it.
Then, the chair scooted back with a dull squeak. Alfred placed both hands on the side of the bed to brace himself with. Arthur looked up just as Alfred's lips crashed against his. For a moment, he just sat there, his eyes wide with shock. Then, he wrapped his arms around Alfred's neck and pressed against him. Alfred smiled into the kiss, pleased that Arthur wanted it as well.
When they broke a part a minute later, both were blushing madly. Alfred had a wide smirk on his face and Arthur still looked slightly frightened.
"I love you too," Alfred said in a soft voice as his smirk turned into a kind smile.
"I heard you," Arthur mumbled, still not meeting Alfred's gaze. "When you were walking. You said you loved me. I figured even you wouldn't be so rude as to just about something like that."
Alfred chuckled. "I thought you had fallen asleep. But it's all true, dude. I've been wanting to tell you for a while."
Arthur nodded, unsure of what else to say. He twisted the blanket in his fingers nervously, his sweaty palms making them wrinkly. Then, he shivered and brought his arms up to hug himself. This did not go unnoticed by Alfred who was watching him. Without a word, he pulled back the covers and got in next to Arthur. He pulled his arms around the shivering blonde and gently laid them both down. Arthur blushed, but snuggled into Alfred's warm chest. He hated the fact that he was forced into a situation like this. Alfred, of course, loved it.
Soon, Arthur found himself fast asleep, snuggled up against Alfred. He was no longer shivering. Instead, he felt warm and safe with Alfred's arms around him. Even Alfred felt himself drifting off. He rested his chin on Arthur's soft, golden head and drifted off.
The snow fell calmly outside, covering the footprints left in the middle of the woods.
Finally done with it xD Sorry it took so long to come out!
Uh... Suggestions are always welcome... Again, I dunno when the next story will be out xD
Reviews are loved!
