This is the chapter where everything gets better. :D
OTHER USELESS CRAP: Here is the link to the Union Jack bag Arthur had with him. . /gloriousbritain2 /images/ products/large/ large_11405. jpg
And a link to the song he sang (though I'm pretty sure you already know what it is). www. youtube watch?v= Ss0kFNUP4P4
Just remove the spaces
SUMMARY: Arthur Kirkland, Matthew Williams and Gilbert Beillschmidt and Johnny have gone to attend Alfred F. Jone's wake. At the event, they all find out something that shocks the living shit out of them. What will happen next? Read to find out more! ENJOY! ^ ^
A watch group.
That was what Matthew, Gilbert and Johnny had become. They were constantly watching over Arthur.
At first they had come to the house in order to comfort him, but as soon as Arthur had turned suicidal, they made it their mission to watch the man twenty-four/ seven.
Yes, Arthur had gone suicidal. He just couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't deal with the fact that he was alive and Alfred was dead. It was too much for his feeble heart.
So he tried to kill himself.
The first time had ended in failure. He had gone into the kitchen and pulled out the biggest knife he could find, and then he had pressed it against his throat, ready to slice his life away. It was Johnny that had stopped him. He had gone into the kitchen for a snack when he'd witnessed Arthur about to cut his throat. He pulled the knife away (much to Arthur's dismay) and forced him to sit down.
The second time was in his bedroom. Matthew had walked in on Arthur trying to set up a noose. When Arthur had seen Matthew he growled in anger.
"Go away!" he had yelled. "I want to see Alfred! This is the only way I can now!"
"Please don't!" Matthew begged. "Killing yourself is not the answer!"
Arthur had ignored him, turning his attention back to the rope in his hands. He cursed when Gilbert walked in and started screaming when Gilbert pulled the rope away from him.
Arthur had tried on many attempts to end his life but soon he realized that his efforts were in vain, considering that his friends wouldn't allow him to off himself.
Now knowing this, Arthur took to drinking his sorrows away. He would stay in his room for hours at a time, drinking. Soon it was evident that he was addicted.
Realizing this, Matthew held a small meeting in Arthur's living room. It was about how to handle the now rebellious Brit.
"Okay. We need to get him away from the alcohol," Matthew spoke softly. "It's messing with him and making him do things he wouldn't normally do!"
"I don't think it's the booze that's making him want to off himself," Gilbert muttered. "This all started with Alfred."
"But what do we do then?" Johnny asked.
Matthew sat for a minute, thinking, before standing up. "I'll go talk to him. When you don't hear anything, I want you to come and collect all of the bottles," he ordered. "Got it?"
Gilbert smirked at the rough approach his boyfriend was now taking. "Got it." He replied.
Matthew smiled. "Good." He turned and began to head up the stairs. He entered the room and closed the door.
Gilbert and Johnny waited downstairs, listening to the sounds of a conversation. When they were sure that there was no noise, they began to stomp their way up the steps. Gilbert was the first to reach the door. He pushed it open and stared, mouth agape, at the sight in front of him.
Matthew was being held hostage by Arthur. A broken piece of a beer bottle was held against his throat, threatening to penetrate the skin. If those two made any wrong moves, it would be the end of the Canadian.
"Arschloch! What do you think you're doing?!" Gilbert yelled. Arthur tightened his grip on Matthew. The Canadian whimpered.
"Stay back git!" he yelled back. "I'm not afraid to cut him!" Arthur suddenly felt dizzy. He swayed to the left side, then to the right before falling to the ground.
Matthew, seeing an opportunity to run, stepped away from the drunken man and into the arms of his worried boyfriend. Gilbert hugged him tightly, whispering words of comfort into his ear. His attention turned to Arthur, who was still on the floor. His eyes narrowed.
"Verzögern! Why would you do that?!" Gilbert shouted.
Arthur looked up at him through hazy eyes. "I don't know why ok?" he cried. "This ish all too much for me to take!"
"And you think it's been easy for us?" Gilbert retorted.
"You're not the one that jush lost his lover!" Arthur snapped. "Everyshing's gone! Everyshing!"
Gilbert released his hold on Matthew. He strode up to the Briton and raised his hand. The sound of a slap resounded throughout the entire household as Arthur found himself staring at the wall. The stinging in the side of his face brought him out of his drunken state and he turned to look at the angry Prussian, completely sober.
"You're not the only one that lost an important person!" Gilbert yelled at him. "Matthew lost his big brother! I lost one of my best friends! The world lost an amazing person! And I'm not sure what Johnny lost with him, but he was still awesome!"
Arthur continued to stare up at the albino, shock apparent on his slender face. Gilbert put his hands on his hips and glared down at him. "He didn't just belong to you Arthur. He was everyone's important something. Wake up, you dumb Brit!"
Gilbert's words began to seep into Arthur's brain. He felt as if he had been kicked in the stomach. Tears fell from his eyes as he looked down at the floor in shame.
"I-I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I apologize for my behavior these last few days. It was disgraceful and immature."
Gilbert's hard gaze softened at the sight of the Englishman crying. He kneeled down beside him, putting a gentle arm around his shoulders. "Well hey; don't beat yourself up about it. Everyone has their bad days, right?" Arthur wiped his eyes and nodded. Gilbert's gaze turned serious. "Hey. Um… listen. Alfred's wake is tomorrow and it's gonna be the last time any of us can see him before he'll be pushing up daisies. Do you think you'll be strong enough to go?"
Arthur looked up at him. He stayed silent for a while before nodding his head. "I want to see him. I need to see him. Just one last time."
The wake was going to start in one hour. Matthew was downstairs, preparing some food. He was fully dressed in black. Gilbert walked up and wrapped his arms around the Canadian's waist. He kissed the back of the blonde's head, making him smile.
"How are ya feeling Birdie?" Gilbert asked. Matthew turned to look at him.
"Could be better," he replied. He noticed that Gilbert's tie was undone and he tsked. "Do you not know how to tie a tie?" Matthew asked as he began to fix the problem.
Gilbert scoffed. "Tying ties is not awesome enough for me Birdie," he waited until Matthew had finished, then he wrapped the blonde in a tight hug. Matthew let out an "eep" as he pressed against the Prussian's chest. "Besides, the way you do it is much sexier. Keseseses…"
Matthew blushed in response. "S-stop that. What? Are you horny all the time?"
"Only when I'm close to your sexy bod!" Gilbert smirked, earning a light smack on the arm.
Matthew pushed away from the horny Prussian and grabbed a plate stacked high full of pancakes. He handed it to Gilbert, who licked his lips happily before accepting the dish. He kissed Matthew on the cheek before taking a seat at the large dining table.
"Ishn't Arfur dome yef?" Gilbert asked with a mouth full of pancake.
"Is Arthur done yet?" Matthew repeated. "Good question," he turned to look up the stairs. "Arthur? Are you done yet? We have to go soon."
"I'll be right there!" Arthur replied. He walked over to the full length mirror in his bathroom and checked his reflection. He was wearing black boots, tight fitting black jeans with a silver chain, a black AC/DC shirt, black fingerless leather gloves, a long black coat, and a small black top hat attached to a headband that was tilted off to the side to show off the black streak he'd added to his bright blonde hair.
He smiled sadly at his image in the mirror. "Alfred would have said that I looked sexy," he mumbled. He touched the emerald ring on his finger and sighed. "I miss you honey."
"Arthur?" Matthew called again. Arthur snapped back to reality.
"Yes. I'll be down in a second." He answered. He took one last look in the mirror before grabbing his Union Jack bag and heading out the door.
Squeals and cries of happiness from Alfred's relatives resonated throughout the entire church as Arthur walked into the room. The teenage girls and boys held out papers and pens, begging Arthur to sign them. Arthur only shook his head and winked at them.
"Maybe later." He calmly said. The fans nodded in agreement and controlled themselves, remembering that they were at a wake. He took a seat next to Matthew, Gilbert and Johnny and sighed for the fifth time. Gilbert grinned at him.
"Is all that fame and fortune too much for little Arthur?" he sneered. Arthur crossed his arms over his chest.
"No," he huffed. "Why? Are you jealous?"
"The awesome me doesn't get jealous. He only gets more awesome. True story."
Matthew and Johnny chuckled at the two bickering. Matthew was about to put in his two cents when he noticed the priest moving to the front of the room. He nudged the others and pointed at him, letting them know that the ceremony was starting.
Arthur's stomach began to do flip-flops when the priest spoke about Alfred.
"We are gathered here today in the house of God to talk about a truly heroic man," the priest began. "Alfred F. Jones was not only a friend and family member, but a legend to us all. He taught us about the joys in life, and how we need to appreciate it. Everyone in this room has been affected by him in some way. Hell, even I have! It pains me to know that Alfred will be gone from this world, but may we pray for his safety in heaven."
"Amen." The people in the church responded sadly.
"We all love you Alfred," the priest continued. He looked out at them. "Now, would anyone like to say a few words about how Alfred has touched them?" the priest searched the crowd until eyes rested on a leather bound hand raised high in the air.
"I would." Arthur spoke. He stood up and began to head towards the priest. He was handed the microphone. He stepped behind the podium and looked out at Alfred's friends and family members, who were looking back at him. A wave of sadness washed over him. He raised the mike to his lips and began to sing the first two lines of his newest song.
I could stay awake, just to hear you breathin'. Watch you smile you are sleepin', while you're far away and dreamin'. I could spend my life in this sweet surrender. I could stay lost in this moment forever. Every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure!
I don't wanna close my eyes! I don't wanna fall asleep 'cause I'll miss you babe, and I don't wanna miss a thing! 'Cause even when I dream of you, the sweetest dreams will never do! I still miss you babe, and I don't wanna miss a THING!
He stopped singing then, allowing the lyrics to sink into the audience's hearts. He began to speak once more. "Those were some of the lyrics to my newest song, the one that Alfred helped me write. You see, he was more than a friend to me. He was my brother. He was my cousin. He was my annoying sister from Ireland," he chuckled and the audience laughed as well. "Alfred F. Jones. He… he was my American hero, and I will miss him dearly."
Hot tears fell down his cheeks. He tried to wipe them away, but more only appeared. The priest stepped up and handed him a tissue. He graciously accepted it and dabbed at his eyes.
"Thank you for sharing that Mr. Kirkland. It had to have been hard to lose someone so important in your life."
Arthur nodded in agreement, teardrops flying everywhere. He turned to look at the casket in the middle of the room, the casket his beloved was lying in. "M-may I see him? May I l-look at him? Please?"
The priest shook his head. "I honestly don't think you, or anyone else here, could handle it."
"Please?" Arthur begged.
The priest seemed hesitant at first, but he eventually gave in. "Alright." He walked over to the large casket. He waited for his fingers to adjust to the cold of the box (it was air conditioned so that the body wouldn't rot) before opening the top of the lid. He peered inside and a look of complete surprise crossed his face.
Arthur knew that something was wrong the instant the priest had looked inside the casket. He jumped off of the stage and ran to the priest's side. He took a look inside the casket and gasped as well.
Why?
Because the man inside the case was not Alfred F. Jones. There was nothing similar between them.
For instance, the man inside had to have been at least forty years old. You could see the wrinkles and lines of old age beginning to strike his features. He had dark brown hair and hazel eyes (yes, Arthur wasn't afraid to pry his eyes open in order to check). The soldier's teeth were slightly yellowed and he was missing a tooth. It was obvious that the man was American, but that was only similarity between this man and Alfred.
Even is this man had looked like Alfred, Arthur would have been able to tell that he wasn't him in a heartbeat. It actually angered him that someone had tried to pass off this man as his lover (and had done such a piss-poor job at it).
Arthur turned to look at the priest, whose face was white as snow. He pointed at the man in the casket and narrowed his eyes. "Is this some kind of joke?" he asked with an eerie calm in his voice. "Is this some kind of sick American joke?!"
The priest furiously shook his head. "I have no idea what's going on sir! Ask the soldier's that brought the body here!"
Arthur turned his gaze on the two soldiers standing in the back of the church. They were the same soldier's that had delivered the news of Alfred's death. The brunette was currently smacking the dark haired one upside the head.
"You idiot!" he yelled, earning the attention of the people in the church. "Why would you let him open the casket?"
"I didn't know he would ask to open it!" the smaller one cried. "It was too late to stop him anyway!"
"Freaking retard! What are we supposed to tell Dakota?!"
"HEY!" a loud voice boomed. The two soldiers turned to face the angry Brit, who was giving them a look that made them shiver with fright. For the first time in their lives, they were truly afraid. "Where is Alfred?"
"U-um… I don't know?" the first soldier tried to say bravely.
"DO NOT GIVE ME THAT BULLSHIT!" Arthur yelled. He stomped his foot with annoyance. The large boot seemed to make the ground shake and the soldiers hugged each other in fear. "The body in this case is not him. This person doesn't resemble him in the slightest!"
"What?!" Matthew and Gilbert cried out. They jumped out of their seats and went to examine the body. Looks of confusion and anger crossed their faces.
"What the fuck eh?!" Matthew shouted. "Where is he?!"
Almost everyone in the church was on their feet now, ready to inspect the man. All expect for Johnny, who was sitting down, a look of surprise on his features.
Huh? He thought. Didn't Dakota say…? Huh?!
"What is going on here?" Arthur tried again. "Where the bloody hell is my boyfriend?!"
Alfred F. Jone's sky blue eyes opened slightly. He looked around, trying to understand his surroundings.
"W-where am I?" he asked aloud. A wave of pain enveloped his head when he spoke though and he groaned out of displeasure. He tried to grab hold of his head but soon realized that he couldn't. He looked up and saw that his hands had been bound and shackled.
Had he been… kidnapped? But how? He was supposed to be in a taxi on his way to Arthur's house.
Oh crap! He shouted in his head. Arthur! He must be flipping his shit right now wondering where I am! What day is it? Who's keeping me here? How can I get home to him?!
"H-hello?" he called out. "Hello? Is someone there? I need to get home! Please! Can someone help me?!" He heard the click-clack of heels tapping on the concrete floor. "Who's there?" he asked.
"Your worst nightmare." The voice answered. The mysterious person stepped into the dim light of the basement and Alfred gasped.
"D-Dakota?!"
"Hello Alfred. It's been a while," she smirked. "How've you been?"
Alfred narrowed his eyes at her. "What the hell do you want from me?"
"I want us to get back together Alfred." She replied calmly.
"And if I refuse?"
"Then your boyfriend, Arthur Kirkland, will be part of a very gruesome "accident" on the stage of his next concert. I'll see to that personally."
"You crazy bitch!" Alfred screamed. He pulled at the shackles around his wrists, desperately trying to break them. "You leave him alone!"
"I'm afraid I can't do that Alfred," she giggled. "You see, if he's around, then you won't love me the way you're supposed too."
"You fucking…! I've never loved you!" he exclaimed. "I only dated you because I thought that you would get my mind off of Arthur. When I realized that couldn't happen, I dumped you. I have never, not once, felt anything for anyone but Arthur Kirkland! Why can't you get that through your fucking skull you dumb bitch?!"
Dakota glared at him. She calmly walked up and slapped the American across the face. He whimpered at the pain being added to his already growing headache.
"I don't think it would be wise to talk to me like that Alfred," she told him. "You're in my territory now. I own you here. My word is law and if you don't obey it, actions will be made. Have I made myself clear?"
"Yes." He answered quietly. She grinned.
"Excellent," she said cheerfully. She took a step back and spread out her arms. "Well then! Alfred F. Jones, welcome to hell!"
*TRANSLATION (in order of appearance)*
Arschloch! (GERMAN) - Asshole!
Verzögern! (GERMAN)- Dumbass (Don't be afraid to tell me if this one is wrong).