Chapter 3: Earth Plane Bound

As the light of his travels slowly evaporated into nothing more then a subtle ray of sunshine, Alfred was at last able to see where he was. He was there again. The busy people swarmed him like that of a bee hive. Each person going about their business, as if they had no knowledge of his presence at all.

Alfred to make his way around the crowds without hitting them directly, fearing for what might happen if he did so. However, it was inevitable. A man, with shoulder length blonde hair and bright blue eyes, walked right through his chest. He seemed unaware of his being, his ghostly form. It was odd being ignored for once, that he wasn't the center of attention.

It seems the old saying, that what you do in your life wont matter once your gone.
That saying... was actually true.

While this young soul tried his hardest to find his loves residence in the strange world, the one whom walked through him was having his own difficulties. Over the phone he was doing his hardest to comfort the one he loved, or had in another time. Francis Bonnefoy, popular French teacher a local collage, old friend of Arthur Kirkland.

The blonde could hear the crying from a mile away, the British man unable to anything more that this point. There were no tears anymore, only the feeling of his broken heart beating to a soft tune of sniffling. Although Francis's feelings toward the blonde had not changed in the past years, he still knew Arthur was not his. Not until the short man was able to move, forget his love and what they once had. Until that day were to ring true, he would be there for him.

A bright yellow taxi dropped him off at the humble abode. The entire flat seeming to have a gloom over it, a misty cloud of gloom and despair. Something that had been there since Alfred's demise. Francis highly doubted it would remove itself anytime soon. How soon however, would depend all upon Arthur's mood.

As he made his way to the front interest, heavy hearted none the less. Francis tried to think of what he was going to say to the poor man. He had tried numerous other tactics to get him to calm himself, to stop the tears if even for a minute. To see him smile like he always did, before and after he met Alfred.

The knock on the door was the only thing standing between a sorrowed Arthur and his place on the already soaked pillow. Drenched in his own tears and Alfred's old pajama's, the man shifted in the king sized bed. Looking up upon the second knock hitting the door. "Go away you blasted git!" He cried, even though he understood that the frog couldn't hear him. Sad eyes lingered for a moment at the picture at the bed side, taking in the smiling image of his lover. Alfred wouldn't have wanted him to treat the man this way, even if they never got along well.

Sighing, his conscience compelled him to get up. Wiping his eyes with the sleeves of the shirt and heading toward the ever growing sound of knocking. Opening the door with a saddened and disgruntled look, a red eyed Brit stared back at him. "What is it now frog? Another one of your 'therapy' sessions?"

It seems the sarcasm in his voice cut the young Frenchman like a butter knife, having grown used to this sort of thing over the past days. "Hello mon ami." Said the man, before bowing gently. Moving past Arthur and entering the home, as rain had began to pour down like cold tears on the face of the earth.

Arthur said nothing of this, seeing as how it had been occurring for more then a week straight. "I can see things are still, how do you say, hitting you hard." Once the other began to speak, the young shook his head. Leaning against the wooden door and sighing softly. Why would he even bother to ask that? Hitting him hard was barely even scratching the surface of how he felt.

The British man had been devastated by the loss, it seemed as if some days he wouldn't have minded if he too had been taken away in that crash. At least then he could continue on loving Alfred, be it wherever people go when they die.

"Is that all you can come up with?" Spoke the blonde in a bitter tone, blood shot eyes looking up at him with a heart broken expression. "Hitting me hard? I fucking lost my husband Francis! That doesn't even begin to describe how I'm feeling!" Inner rage which had been pent up within him was released. Arthur throwing himself at the other. Punching at the Frenchman's toned chest. Cries of the pain that had been burning deep within him. That had been eating him alive.

For what seemed like hours to the Brit, was only mere minutes. At last tired from his attempts to beat the living words out of Francis, he had them. The description of what he was feeling at that very moment in time. "Regret..." The bitter word rolled off his lips like poison, straining the air around them. As if it wasn't already though enough. " That's what I'm feeling frog. An I don't think you'd ever understand that."

The look in Francis's eyes was nothing more then painful, pain only someone who had been in love would understand. Just as Arthur had been feeling, however in a different way. Stopping the man in his tracks, he placed tender hands onto his shoulders. Using a free hand to wipe away any free falling tears. Soft blue eyes looked into those green orbs he had come to love. An with a soft sigh, he had last spoke his mind.

"Arthur... I would understand that." Started off the man, voice refusing to shake in front of someone who had already been through so much. The man merely shrugged him off. Looking up with confusion, oh so much confusion on his part. Possibly even a hint of hurt, as to how in the world Francis could understand that!

Pushing away the hand from his shoulder, he backed away from the French speaking man. Shaking his head from side to side. "You... all your life you've had things handed to you frog. One girl after another, its no wonder they call you a flirt. How could you regret that? It was your own damn choice!" Arthur paused again, giving himself a breath. Growling under his voice.

"Get out." He spoke in a gruff tone.

"Get out of my bloody house!"

In that moment, the tension was broke. It obvious what needed to be done. Although Francis had done nothing wrong to this poor man, silence would be the best cure for now. Holding back the tears building from behind those eyelashes, he nodded. Letting out one last shaky sigh before returning to the door. The wooden door was opened with a gentle touch, the collage professor bringing one last goodbye to his dear friend and secret love.

An icy chill raced down his spine just as he was about to say his bidding words. Hairs upon those muscular arms raising from the drop in temperature. Unknown to him a certain American had just entered the home, walking through both the door and the French man who lay just on the other side. Bright blue eyes looked back and forth between the Englishman and the other, unsure of what was occurring. But by the look on Arthur's face it was clear, something had occurred.

Anger raged within the man's ghostly being, causing him to over boil. Hands went to choke out Francis, hoping in some way he could retaliate for making his Arthur cry. The air was still the entire time he did so, both living men unaware of him even being there. However, in that short amount of time Alfred did have his hands around Francis throat. Nothing was said between either.

Hot tears gently falling down the Brit's face once more, he watched his 'friend' if that could even describe his feelings toward the frog. Those precious minutes slipping by as the clock on the wall struck five o'clock.

Francis was the first to make the move. Ignoring Alfred's icy grip and walking straight out the door. Humbly mumbling a soft goodbye, an walking off down the way.

"Au revoir mon amour.."

His attempt at strangling failed the blonde turned his attention to Arthur. Eyes having a slight red tint to them from crying, hands shaking as he feel to his knee's once more. Returning to this sorrowful state of a man. One who had at one point, been the strongest person Alfred had ever met in his life.

By will the blonde seemed to be drawn back over to him, kneeling before Arthur. All he wanted to do was take those shaking hands in his, to kiss away those tears which blocked his view. To remind his love what being whole felt like. Each time he did so, it was met with the same feeling. Nothing, only a slightly cold breeze within his finger tips.

Now vanishing tears where also falling from Alfred's eyes, eyelashes fluttering to stay open.
"Please Artie... notice me." Softly whispered the man. "Please.."

With one last cold touch to his loves hand, there was a slight amount of hope Arthur might once again know he was there. Head lifting and looking about the room. A feeling having come over him from the loving gesture. An although he couldn't see what was causing him to all of a sudden feel this way, deep down he felt he knew what it could be.

"A-Alfred?"

Greetings sweeties, it's me the writer again. xD Then again who else would it be. Anyway I am terribly sorry for not posting a new chapter here in many months, I don't really have an excuse as to this. All I can say though is that I haven't really been inspired in that time to actually write. However, now that school is out and I am mostly bored out of my mind. That will probably change. So expect more from this story! An please comment, I want to hear what you all think!