Chapter - 5 - Adventures in London
Arthur had just wanted to get his food an go home. He didn't like going out and trying to talk to other people when he wanted something. It seemed wherever he bought something, the clerk wanted to talk to him. They asked him about new books and the war and how he was holding up with living alone. Arthur tried to answer politely, but the living alone question always irked him. Arthur wasn't sure how he came to live alone. He knew his family was dead, since someone showed him the paper. There was a picture of his family, the reporter must have gotten from his grandmother, and Arthur standing with the police men, covered in ash and blood. His hair matted and two clean tracks down his cheeks, his eyes looked ten times bigger in the black and white photo than they really did. He knew his family was murdered by the Germans, but he remembered none of it. He knew it was three years ago, he knew the feeling of gritty ash and concrete coating his skin. He remembered a roar in his ears and seeing fire in front of his face burning his eyes and throat. He assumed he curled up on the road from the scars on his back, his hands and his knees. He also remembered the fireman with kind eyes who brought him to London. After a year of being asked how he was handling the situation, Arthur went to a doctor since he couldn't give an answer. The doctor, Roderich Edelstein, and his wife, Elizabeta, told him that a traumatic experience can make a person forget the event. Roderich said that Arthur probably forgot losing his family because he couldn't handle the shock. Arthur had gazed at the couple, who were holding hands and leaning on each other, and asked, "How did they die?" Elizabeta explained that the Germans were doing a test run to see if their new planes were working correctly. They destroyed five miles of houses and killed thousands on that day. Arthur's breath hitched and he stood. He felt like he was being told a story. A horrible, awful story that shouldn't ever be told. But it was his story, and he had to hear it. Roderich took over and said that Arthur was just outside the blast zone. Though, the impact sent him flying back on his knees a couple hundred yards. 'That's how I got the scars on my knees.' Arthur thought in shock. The couple continued, saying that his instinct must have taken over, making him protect his head and the front of his body. When they finished, Elizabeta sent him away with a plate of cookies and two kisses on his cheeks. She kissed his forehead as Roderich came up behind her and told Arthur to call her Eli. She smiled and waved to Arthur down the road. All the way home, Arthur thought. He remembered the feeling of being there, but he didn't remember being there. No gut wrenching horror in his stomach. No sights of bodies and houses flying in the hair. Only the sound of the airplanes, loud and deafening. The airplanes have left Arthur terrified of thunder and anything in the air. Arthur hated the color red because of the flames and the blood that ran into his eyes. He still almost faints at the sight of blood. He can't read gruesome stories or listen to the radio station that plays war updates. This major event in his life that he couldn't remember being at changed his life completely.
Knowing he couldn't tell anyone he didn't remember what happened, he didn't want anymore sympathy. Arthur nodded and smiled at who ever asked him that horrible, stupid question. "How are you doing living alone?" Those sympathies were one of the reasons Arthur hated the public world, but what he hates most of all was when people couldn't control their kids.
Arthur had just picked up the last bag of noodles at the booth, wondering if wurst and stroganoff was a good combination when skinny arms wrapped around his waist with a wail of, "Noo! That's the last good pastaaa!"
First the strange encounter with the meat vendor then this. Arthur got ready to unleash a lecture to a parent. He looked down at the child around his middle and found that his skin was tan. Hard to come by in rainy London. He scowled and said loudly, "Honestly, child! Behave yourself! Where are your parents?!" The crowd parted and a man came out and grabbed the boy, pulling him off Arthur.
Arthur dusted himself off and ignored the man and his apologies. He bought the noodles and settled them into his basket, tilting his head when he found that York was no longer there. 'Must have sniffed out a mouse.' he dismissed. Arthur looked up to tell the man off and saw caramel hair and a bomber jacket. He also noticed the unmistakable cowlick. His throat suddenly felt like it was stuffed with cotton. He swallowed hard and opened his mouth to tell the pilot that it was not okay for him to let a young boy hug strangers and scream in the middle of a shopping center. But all that come out was, "Alfred?"
The man looked up, his arms around the crying boy and blinked. With a smile that stretched from ear to ear he replied. "Arthur?"
Alfred grinned and held Feliciano to his chest to muffle his whines. "What are you doing here, Arthur?"
Arthur coughed into his fist and rubbed his arm. "Shopping and wondering why you have that child."
Alfred laughed. "This is Feliciano, I call him Feli, and he's actually twenty-three. He cooks at our base!"
Gasping and blushing at the same time showed that Arthur was shocked and embarrassed. "Oh, I-I'm sorry. He looks so young and..." Arthur paused, not knowing what would offend Feliciano.
"Childish? Yeah, he knows." Alfred shoved the boy to the side.
Feliciano yelped and punched Alfred's arm. "Basta, Alfred! You're so mean, and you can be childish too!"
Alfred laughed again and Arthur felt his stomach do flips. "I don't cry over pasta!"
"Oh, yeah!" Feliciano rounded on Arthur. "You took my pasta!"
Arthur glared. "I beg to differ. I was buying the noodles when you decided to tackle me and cry like a mere spoiled child."
Feliciano's face fell and he backed behind Alfred. Arthur let his glare drop. He hadn't meant to be rude to the perky boy- man, but no one in their right mind accused someone of stealing pasta.
"Why don't you ask if you can have some instead of pouting Feliciano?" Alfred looked over his shoulder, giving Arthur a good look at his neck.
Arthur noted that Alfred had a nice jaw and chin line so it didn't look like he had three more chins (check). Arthur glanced up at the pilots face. He always seemed so happy, and the apples of his cheeks were slightly pink and looked smooth enough to touch (check). Focusing on his face, Arthur saw that Alfred's nose curved and poke up adorably (check). Arthur tilted his head to look at his mouth while he talked to Feliciano. Alfred's lips were a very light pink (check). Arthur looked back down at Alfred's chest. His jacket covered him snugly, but it was much too difficult to see if he had any muscles underneath his clothing. 'Maybe if I invite him to dinner, he'll take off his jacket and I can see if he's actually fat under all that leather.' Arthur thought. He smiled to himself. 'He has been checked off most of my list. Maybe this is my guy. This is my dream boy. Even though he really is a boy. It's just a year though, that's not too bad. I mean, he can drive and...and he's in the war. He's going to die. If I fall in love with Alfred, he'll die. That's how these kinds of things work for my kind. We fall in love then something awful always happens!' Arthur sighed and rubbed his head. This was all to much.
"-ur. Hey, Arthur? Feliciano was talking to you." Alfred set a warm hand on Arthur's shoulder. "I can't blame ya though, when he talks I understand every other word." Alfred grinned and gave Arthur's shoulder a good shake, making Arthur's head bob.
"E-excuse me, Feliciano, what were you saying?" Arthur tried to shrug Alfred's hand off, but Alfred didn't seem to get the hint.
"I was saying that we can go get Mattie and we can all go out and have dinner, since you and Alfred are friends and all. And I'm sure Mattie will want to come too. Where is Mattie anyway, Alfred?" Feliciano chirped out.
"He's...somewhere. I'll be able to find him. Alright! So, whats the best place to eat around here?" Alfred asked and looked down at Arthur, who looked utterly stunned.
"Well, u-uhm." Arthur had no idea. He never went out to eat. He used to just eat with his fairies and his ghosts, but now that Ludwig lives with him, he started eating in the hidden room. He looked around and spotted a building people were going in and out of at a steady pace. Arthur prayed to the fairies that the building was a restaurant and pointed. "That building, over there." he said, then dropped his arm. "I'm sure you will like it."
"Great! We'll meet you there in an hour! Then we can go night walking!" Alfred grinned and slapped Feliciano on the back.
"N-night walking?" Arthur asked and watched Feliciano stumble.
"Yeah! We walk around at night and check out the local drunks! Its really fun, and we might see something that attracts our eye." Alfred inclined his head and peered down at Arthur, making his neck heat up.
"Sounds...interesting." He said slowly.
"You have to come! It'll be a lot of fun and we can see the cute English girls, and go to pubs and stuff!" Feliciano chirped and clapped his hands.
'Cute girls...So Feliciano isn't like us. I wonder if he knows about Alfred. What if he doesn't and I somehow let it slip? He's scrawny, but I am too. It'll be like two twigs fighting...' Arthur thought, 'But they are going to pubs. That could help me relax. I can drop off the wurst and pasta and tell Ludwig not to turn on any lights. He should be fine.' "Alright. In an hour?"
"Yup! Come on Feli, lets find Mattie. Where's Boston?" Alfred looked down at the ground.
"Most likely with York." Arthur sighed and scoped the sidewalk. "York, I have treats!" He called.
"That is not going to bring a cat to ya, Artie." Alfred laughed.
"First of all, I know my cat better than you. Second, my name is Arthur, you git. And third, there are our cats." Arthur knelt down and picked up York, sightly pleased that Alfred called him a nickname. "Hello, York. What were you and Boston doing?" Boston was close behind York and now paced Arthur's feet while he held York.
"Probably doing it again." Alfred scooped up Boston and flipped him onto his back. Rubbing his belly, Alfred looked at Arthur. "Can Boston stay at your place with York? I don't want to put Boston back in his kennel. Or around those guys." Alfred's smile fell and his hand hovered over Boston's side.
"'Those men'?" Arthur tilted his head.
Alfred moved his hand and Arthur saw a piece of fur had been shaved off, and it seemed that the razor the person had used was dull. Little cuts glared red at Arthur. Taking a step back and covering his mouth, Arthur felt a heat wave encase his head. He couldn't breath. Smoke was pouring down his throat. Red was everywhere. Arthur opened his mouth for air. He found none, his eyes started to water. He clutched York to his chest. 'It is not real. Not real, Arthur. You're talking to Alfred. Alfred. With wonderful, blue eyes and that happy face.' Arthur found air and gulped it down.
"Arthur? Arthur! Hey!" Arthur titled his head up at the honey-coated voice and tried to slow his breathing. He looked around, hoping no one he knew saw him having a panic attack. Arthur examined himself. He was holding York, much to tightly, judging by the pained look he was giving Arthur. Letting go of the cat, he continued looking himself over. He had his basket hanging loosely in his hand. His face and neck felt much too hot. His back was against something warm and firm. He glanced up and was met with Alfred's eyes. The same ones that helped him calm down.
"Alfred," he whispered, his voice a raspy mess. He felt the American's arms around his middle. Strangely enough, Arthur didn't mind. If it wasn't for Alfred, he would be on the ground screaming.
"What the hell was that?" Alfred asked, letting go of Arthur and turning him around.
"B-Boston was bleeding." Arthur explained lamely.
"Yeah, York was trying to help. Look." Alfred turned Arthur again and pointed to their cats, who where laying by Feliciano's feet. Boston was stretched out on his side with his eyes closed, while York was laying by his belly, making a T with their bodies. York was licking the scrape on Boston's side...and purring.
Arthur stared for a moment then turned to Alfred. "What the bloody hell did your cat do to York? He meows yesterday, now he's purring in public!"
"Er...I dunno. Maybe York likes Boston!" Alfred grinned. "Is it so bad to have a friend?"
'Yes! Because as soon as I feel comfortable you all die!' Arthur didn't know why he thought that. He's sure it had to do with his family's murder, but he doesn't know why he can't love other human beings. He holds Eli and Roderich close to his heart, but he'll never tell them that they remind him of his parents, even though they are all the same age. Arthur wrung his hands, forcing himself not to think back to that day. Why can't he love people? How come it was so hard to bring people into his life? Sure Ludwig lived with him, but Arthur certainly didn't love the Jew. Arthur just didn't have the heart to let the man be sent to a horrible camp. "I..." 'Say something you twit! Alfred and Feliciano will think you belong in the asylum!' Arthur cleared his throat. "I don't think friends are bad, just finding them is a pain. Finding a good friend whom you enjoy their company with can be very difficult. So I'm shocked a house cat like York has found a friend." Arthur stated, folding his arms and holding his shopping basket so tight his knuckles turned white. 'That was lame. So lame. Now I'm going to be shunned.'
"Yeah, you're right. Boston has never really had a friend until we came here. I'm glad we walked into your library and found that charming cat of yours." Alfred smiled.
Arthur kept his mouth shut. He wasn't sure if Alfred was still talking about his cat or Arthur himself anymore. And he wasn't sure if he was okay or not with it. "Right. Well, you asked if Boston could stay with York? Yes, they can stay at my place. I'm sure York will keep Boston in line." Arthur forced a smile and looked between Alfred and Feliciano. "I'll see you two in an hour. Don't forget Matthew, Alfred."
"How could I forget my own brother?"
"You're American," Arthur actually smiled and called York to his side with Boston on his heels. "That explains everything." Arthur turned on his heel and walked back to his library.
Authors note: Okay... so they didn't really have an adventure. And I'm sorry for the really long update! I'll try to get at least two to three in before the 5th. I'll try really hard! And Francis didn't come in like I wanted. It just kinda kept going and then it got toooooo loooonngg... and once again I'm being lazy so excuse this awful grammar I'm sure my Dearie is freaking out over. (Yes, I was freaking out over it. -Dearie) Next chapter I PROMISE Francis and a drunk Arthur. No open USUK yet though. It'll happen soon, I promise! I make a lot of promises. Well, I thank you for the reviews and favorites I love them all! Farewell story readers!