Chapter Seven
"Shit!" Alfred stumbled backwards in surprise as the man lunged forwards, nearly plunging his sword straight into the hero's belly. Alfred hit the ground and span to the side almost immediately, heart racing as he saw the sword strike the marble floor right beside his neck.
"Do you really think you can be a superhero?" The stranger's voice asked mockingly, slightly accented. Alfred scrambled to his feet. "Life's not that simple, nor that perfect."
The American gritted his teeth and swung a fist at the masked villain, who didn't even bother to try dodging but simply held up a blocking hand. Alfred's fist hit the open palm, and suddenly felt the same weightlessness that he had experienced with Francis envelop his forearm, before a hideous dampness settled around his hand. With a sinking feeling, Alfred looked from the man's smirking face to his arm and saw his limb disappeared completely into the other's palm. Murmured gasps and even a short scream burst from the terrified crowd as Alfred hurriedly extracted his hand, coated in someone else's blood. A ragged torn breath shuddered from Alfred's surprised lungs. The man continued talking before swinging his sword towards Alfred's exposed neck.
"You are not immortal. You can die, Mr Jones."
Alfred bristled, but the crowd appeared not to have heard a word that either of them were saying. He punched again and again, shouting in frustration as he only succeeded in bloodying his new gloves. As he got more riled up, Alfred could feel himself draining, getting weaker and slower and making more mistakes. The villain managed to knock the hero down, settling his sword against Alfred's neck with a laidback ease, before slashing it against his stomach. A groan escaped from Alfred's lips as he doubled over, feeling his blood leak between his fingers.
"But I'm not here to kill you, Alfred Franklin Jones. That would be too easy."
The man withdrew his sword from Alfred's neck and pointed it over at the people. A strange look overcame his masked face and his voice that sounded like so many combined in one took on a higher, more desperate tone, still accented, but not the same as the original. It was as if someone else altogether had started speaking through this man's mouth.
"Tell me Alfred," The villain said, seemingly unaware of the blood that was beginning to pool on the floor. Alfred coughed weakly. "Why do you insist on protecting these people? They are not like you and I; they are human, for one."
"I am human." Alfred growled through clenched teeth. He closed his eyes painfully and his strength was slowly channelled away with his vital fluid.
"No you're not. Neither of us are. Do you think humans can pull things from their bodies without harm, or produce fire and ice with a mere click of their fingers? Humans can't turn to stone, breathe underwater, humans can't fly with wings like angels." Alfred's breath hitched. "Then again, maybe you are telling the truth. After all, you don't seem to have any powers at all, little boy-"
The masked man stopped suddenly, wide-eyed smile faltering only slightly as there was a flash of silver and two daggers appeared crossed at his throat. He grinned, voice reverting back to its original form.
"What do we have here? An ally, Alfred? You didn't tell me; I'm hurt." He said, mock sadness infecting his voice, though he didn't even bother trying to turn around. The smile didn't fall from his face.
"I suggest," came an icy, unmistakably familiar voice. "That you come with me." There was a pause. "If you want to keep your head, that is."
A collective sigh of relief was released from the crowd, but Alfred grunted in frustration.
"It's no use," He said, angrily, pressing a hand to the gash across his belly. He winced. It was bleeding a lot, but it was shallow. He'd live. "He absorbs things into his body."
"Let him risk his neck then." Arthur called back.
The man chuckled.
Within a moment, all the light in the room was instantly absorbed into the villain's body, and his skin glowed briefly, flashing a brilliant smirk before darkness exploded into the bank.
"Fuck!" Arthur swore and he was blinded and he leapt back, away from the man who now had a great advantage over both of them. Suddenly there was a clash of metal against metal.
Alfred jumped painfully to his feet, fumbling at his belt for the pod that was strapped to the durable leather. His heart bounded painfully around his chest as he continued to hear scrape of steel echoing around the room, growing in his steadily sharpening ears. The sounds abruptly stopped. Alfred cracked open the pod, immediately putting in his contact lenses. The world suddenly brightened into a greyscale scene with a grainy feel to it, flickering slightly. Arthur was on the floor, his arms pinned against the marble by the man's knees and a sword hovering above his chest, immobilising him completely. The villain knelt over him, hood gripped in hand.
Alfred ripped a potted plant from the floor with a grunt, and hurled it across the room. The object hit the man dead on, knocking him straight off Arthur with ease, and he flew back and into the darkness, out of Alfred's sight.
"Arthur!" Alfred ran up to his boyfriend. "Are you alright? Quickly, put these on!" He handed him the contacts and Arthur obliged, replying.
"Yes, I'm absolutely fine." Then he gasped. "Christ Alfred, you need to see a doctor-"
"I'm fine!"
"You most certainly are not fine, Alfred Franklin-"
"Artie!"
Alfred pulled Arthur to the side and towards his chest as Arthur's own dagger whistled past them. Arthur helped Alfred to his feet.
"Alright, we don't have much time. You're injured. I want you to get the civilians out of here, and I'll handle this guy, ok?"
"But-"
"Alfred, you're useless against him! I can bait him, wear him down. Just go!"
Arthur shoved Alfred away, and ran to the side, grabbing his two daggers and jumping straight into the air and unfurling his wings, flying into darkness. Alfred rushed to the hostages and began to lead them quietly outside. He glanced back, watching briefly as Arthur hovered around the villain, slashing and stabbing at the man's back and neck, continually evading his increasingly aggravated slashes of his sword. He flew back and forth in short bursts like an annoying fly, lashing out as the villain began to swing his sword wildly and lose balance with his own momentum.
"Al-Blue Star!" Arthur called out. It took Alfred a minute to realise that he was Blue star. "Hurry up!"
Alfred nodded as Arthur returned to his job, and kicked open the doors of the bank. The light was a little blinding, but he managed to usher everybody out and safely over to the barricade of police cars and waiting ambulances.
Arthur glanced at the American as he left the bank, before returning to his task. The man's rage was growing; Arthur could see it, contorted on his masked face. Suddenly the rage fell right off his face, replaced by a knowing smile and his voice once again changed.
Arthur shivered, growing cold but continued anyway.
"You can't keep that up forever, Arthur." He said, smile remaining softly on his face. "I know it's you. I'd recognise those wings anywhere."
Arthur didn't answer but twirled behind the villain, but the man seemed to have guessed what he was doing and span around, moving forward to push Arthur up against the wall. Arthur's eyes widened as his back hit the wall, eyes widening as he realised that his wings were brushing against the ceiling, and that if he didn't get out now, he would be trapped. In one last desperate attempt to escape, the winged Englishman dashed over the man's head, only to be grabbed by the ankle and flung against the wall, gasping as the breath was knocked out of him. He dropped to the ground, falling in an exhausted heap.
The man took Arthur's costume and hauled him up, keeping him pressed against the wall, even as he struggled.
"I've been searching for you." The sword lay discarded on the floor, but Arthur managed to slash out with one dagger, creating a long gash in the man's cheek that he didn't seem to notice, before a large hand squeezed his wrist and forced him to drop the weapon with a cry. "Why-"
There was a suddenly a slam and Arthur tumbled to the ground, breathing heavily and cradling his wrist as he was released.
Alfred's eyes were blazing, ice cold as he drove the man's sword into the wall and bent it around the villain's neck, plunging the hilt in too and making a lethally sharp collar.
"Don't you dare touch him again." He hissed, face threatening.
But the man only chuckled darkly, and flashing another glare, the hero backed off.
Alfred turned to his boyfriend. "Arthur, are you alright?"
Arthur got up and nodded, though he looked nervous, and the two walked outside. Cameras flashed, and both of them were pretty much covered in blood, but Arthur smiled and looked at Alfred, only to fall off his face practically instantly.
"Alfred!" Arthur caught his taller boyfriend, grunting slightly as his strained to hold him up. Alfred gave a groan, clutching his stomach as his blood steadily seeped from the wound and Arthur paled dramatically. "Come on, stay awake, you stupid hero, don't sleep yet." He urged, slightly desperate as Alfred's eyelids flickered, barely conscious.
Arthur glanced around, before dragging Alfred over to the line of ambulances, spotting a familiar face in the crowd nearby, and he waved him over frantically.
Matthew hurried over and grabbed his brother, slinging an arm around his shoulder in order to help carry him.
"What happened?" Matthew asked rapidly, obvious concern on his face.
"In the bank," Arthur started, but his words were all over the place, and he swallowed. "He's…oh God, I don't know! He's going to be alright?"
Matthew stayed silent for a while, inspecting the injury. "I don't know…he's lost a lot of blood…"
Arthur's breath hitched. Suddenly Alfred was whisked away by a group of paramedics, but Arthur followed swiftly, panicking slightly as Alfred drifted in and out of his sight, and flinching every time he saw needles and other various bits of medical equipment, especially when they were used on Alfred. He was about to climb into the back of the ambulance behind Alfred when a paramedic tried to stop him.
"Sorry, sir, you can't come-"
"I'll bloody well do what I please, don't you dare to try and stop me!"
The paramedic was silenced and backed warily away from the fuming Briton, who then turned worriedly back to Alfred. One of the paramedics reached for Alfred's mask.
"Don't." Arthur said darkly, catching the man's hand in a tight grip before releasing it and casting another icy stare.
They packed Alfred into the ambulance and Matthew quickly took over the job of the paramedic while Arthur sat uselessly, looking wide-eyed and sick as he stared vacantly at Alfred's weak face.
The ambulance siren wailed all the way to the hospital.
Matthew glanced at Arthur. The man was stiff, obviously tense as he sat awkwardly by the hospital bed, clutching Alfred's limp hand like a lifeline. His stricken eyes were trained on the unconscious man, at the bandages wrapped around his stitched up stomach, and he coughed quietly.
"You can go home if you like," Matthew said, placing a hand on Arthur's shoulder. He could see that he was uncomfortable in the hospital. The Englishman flinched slightly, but stayed silent. "He'll be fine, but he won't be out until tomorrow."
Arthur shook his head.
"No. Al would stay with me if…" Arthur's hoarse voice trailed off. "I'm staying."
Matthew sighed, having realised by now how stubborn Arthur was and nodded.
"Well, I'm leaving. I've got work in the morning and I need to get a good night's sleep. Call me if he wakes up, okay?"
Arthur nodded in response, before looking back at Alfred. Suddenly, he felt something squeeze his hand, and he jumped up, grinning as Alfred's eyelashes fluttered and the Englishman gave choked cry of relief as the vivid blue of Alfred's eyes appeared again.
"Ughh…I feel like crap…Artie, Arthur, you alright?"
Arthur buried his face in Alfred's shoulder, aware that someone could walk in any moment and catch the two superheroes snuggling, but he didn't care, sniffing slightly as he felt his eyes grow a bit wet.
It was stupid, he knew Alfred would be fine, but he had worried. When his boyfriend was lying unconscious on a hospital bed, looking like death, he had expected the worst. Arthur was a bit of a pessimist.
"Arthur…everything will be okay…everything will be fine."
Author's note: Blarrg, that wasn't a very good chapter . The next chapter will be better though (hopefully), but there's something I want to ask you. The next chapter may or may not include a sex scene. It's the first that I'll have written, so I'm a bit nervous. What do you guys think of that? It'll be nothing too hardcore, I think. I think it's a bit early in their relationship to be having sex, it's only been 1-3 months since they started dating (call me old-fashioned, but I do think that's a bit soon) but that'll probably be part of the plot. I will highlight the actual scene in the next chapter for those who'd prefer to skip it :)
Anyway, thank you all again for reading, favouriting or putting me on alerts, and special thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter: budgieb, Sporks and Yoghurt, The great Emi sama, Miniflip999, fujikawai10346, Alphine and Oighear Croi. This story has nearly fifty reviews! I'm so happy, I could cry T.T You guys are amazing.
Oh yeah, Arthur's chosen superhero name is now Archangel, with 33% voting for that option. But thank you to Skadiyoko and Oighear Croi for the suggestions!
Alfred F. Jones/America, Arthur Kirkland/England/Britain, Matthew Williams/Canada and Sadiq Adnan/Turkey do not belong to me. They belong to Hidekaz Himaruya.
