A/N: I'm sorry in advance. =3=

JANUARY 11th, 2017, SOUTH FLORIDA

ALFRED'S POV

"What am I to you?"

The question caught me off guard more than I would have liked. I looked across at Arthur, sat beside me on the rotting bench and frowned slightly.

"What are you to me?" I repeated dumbly.

"Yes." when he replied, he appeared distant, staring off at one of the tilting skyscrapers before us.

"Well..."

My eyes dropped to the floor, and it dawned on me that I had never given that much thought until now, and it dawned me that I didn't know what Arthur actually was to me. I spared him a quick glance, only to find he was staring right back at me with those acidic green eyes. Questioning. Curious. Apprehensive, almost.

"How am I supposed to answer that?"

Arthur's face made the smallest change in expression. It was barely noticeable, but for less than half a second, a look of regret and worry crossed his features. His eyebrows furrowed slightly and he tore his gaze from mine, looking back out into the derelict city. I inwardly chastised myself and glared at a crack in the moss-bedded ground.

In all honesty, I really didn't know what he was to me. A friend, that much was obvious, but he sounded pretty expectant with his question. There was something else, I was certain.

I knew that, yeah, he was a good guy. I liked his personality. He had a nice sense of humour, and pretty nice and thoughtful when he wasn't threatening anyone. Arthur was a likeable guy who I liked being around. And, sure, he was quite good looking. Or really good looking. I hadn't the time to give him a good once over without being asked questions.

I felt the blood rush to my cheeks at where my thoughts were going. Nevertheless, I glanced at the man in question from the corner of my eyes.

He had crossed his arms as well as his legs, an irritable expression on his face. He looked like he was fighting with his own thoughts. It was almost endearing.

"Arthur, look at me."

Eventually, he did, turning his head to face me, one eyebrow raised in question, face taut. For a second or two, I regarded him. His skin seemed paler than usual, cheeks rosy and eyes tired, darkened slightly. I couldn't imagine what was going through his head, what the war had so far done to him. I wouldn't dare to ask unless he wanted me to know. Even then, I would wonder if I was worth telling. Arthur cleared his throat when I didn't say anything.

"Would you kindly refrain from ogling my face? What do you want?"

I winced minutely as the bite in his tone, certain that I'd upset him with my stupid answer to his question. I heaved a sigh.

"I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"Disappointing you." I muttered uselessly.

Arthur echoed my sigh. It was shorter, quieter. "Alfred..."

"What I said earlier about not wanting to lose you, that was true. I don't know the answer to your question, but whatever it is you mean to me, it sure as hell is a lot. Honestly, I'm at a loss for words with you."

I started when Arthur quickly moved to get up from the bench and straighten his coat, tugging at the string of the bow about his shoulder. He nodded towards the road we were earlier walking down, without really looking at me.

"We should get going, Lord knows how long we've been away from the camp."

"Artie, I-"

"Come along, we should find the last few things we can and get a move on."

"Arthur..."

"What are you waiting for, we have to-"

"Arthur, for God's sake, stop talking!"

My outburst had stunned Arthur to silence, and I immediately felt guilty. He regarded me with a stony expression, almost glaring at me. His eyes looked duller than only moments ago. The look buried under his stoic face almost wrenched my heart uncomfortably. Without saying anything, I gave him a look which naturally turned out serious, and I hoped he understood what unspoken things I was trying to get across. As his face slowly changed, thoughts automatically began to unravel and become clear in my head.

I wasn't sure what to think about the conclusions I'd drawn, let alone what Arthur would think. And yet, as his face softened and expression became almost sorrowful, I was certain that if I had lost this guy, I would be devastated.

Honestly, Alfred, you're getting ahead of yourself. But, Hell, Arthur as a pretty special guy. He was a good person to have by my side during the hardships of war. He brought a sense of realism that, admittedly, balanced me out. In a sense, were like chalk and cheese, according to Arthur, but on the whole other end of the spectrum, we fit together like two jigsaw pieces.

We brought out the best in each other.

Turning off the serious face, I offered my... friend? ... best friend? ... the amazing person whom I was supposed to guide around during war? I offered Arthur a smile, sure and certain. It took a moment, but soon, Arthur mirrored it with a tiny lift of his lips.

"You're an idiot, Jones." he muttered.

"Yep, but I'm your idiot."

For a second, the smile vanished, and I held my breath, afraid of what he'd say. Then he laughed. It wasn't one of his forcibly quit chuckles. It was an open and genuinely happy and amazing laugh. It was a beautiful sound, and I probably could have listened to it all day. Arthur brought up a hand to cover his mouth and gave me an endearing look.

"Yes, I suppose you are. The most marvellous idiot I've ever had the chance of meeting."

"You flatter me."

"Oh, I didn't mean to, your ego is big enough as it is, sunshine."

"Hey, that was cruel!"

ARTHUR'S POV

I was on cloud nine, absolutely ecstatic and I could never have been as happy as I was now. Right beside Alfred, we continued down the road between tilting buildings and abandoned parks. It felt like we had the city to ourselves. There could have been fire lapping up at our feet as we walked and I could have cared less. Alfred made me realise that he wasn't just a friend. I quite enjoyed his company a tad more than that.

Yet rather than say anymore on the matter, we decided to finish our task and attempt to find the assemblage of medical items we'd been sent out to look for. Still, Alfred did indeed keep his mouth shut, but his hand nevertheless found its way to mine. While he was far too taken with looking around in awe at the emptiness of the city and deciding where to walk to, I smiled some.

Alfred was a good person. I didn't think he knew that enough.

"Yo, Artie. Earth to Arthur!"

I jumped and made a move to glare at him, although his broad smile was enough to stop me.

"What do you want?"

But Alfred couldn't say anything.

As sudden as the first time, the deafening wail of the air raid sirens blared across the skies, rising and falling. The hand about my own tightened and pulled. I followed Alfred, wherever he was going. With a horrible twisting of anxiety pooling in my stomach, I wondered why there was a second raid, and so quick, after Alfred had said it had never happened before.

He led the way down a narrow alley, where we eventually came to a halt. A breathless shout passed my lips as the first bomb fell, a while away, yet it sounded so close.

There was a loud sound. An explosion. Ringing in my ears. The shock came before the pain, a burning, stinging sensation bulleting from somewhere in my chest to all throughout my body. The edges of my vision were white, fuzzy, but it was slowly getting darker, harder to breathe. The pain was peaking to an agonising level. Around me, there was an awful mix of sound and smell, sight and sensation. I could smell ash, sulphur, blood, sweat mingled with the weakening sight of black clouds and flying pieces of debris. I heard crumbling bricks and creaking walls threatening to give way and the feeling of arms frantically gripping my limp body.

The last thing I could smell was the distinct leathery aroma of a bomber jacket. The last thing I could feel was a hand on my cheek. The last thing I could see was a set of dazzlingly bright blue eyes, searching, seeking.

The last thing I heard,

"Arthur, please, I love you..."