Summary: Dr. Kirkland, after a long string of events, finds himself shuttled into the dusty old town of Sandy Flats, adjusting to the hilarious characters, dark villains, and charming heroes of a classic but eccentric Western town.
Pairings: USUK, PRUCAN, GERITA, SPAMANO, HUNGAUST, possible GIRIPAN.
Warnings: Yaoi/Boys-Love, heavy language and possible suggestive situations. Minor violence.
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Chapter Ten: A Man in Overalls
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Arthur decided that the silly hat was well with it; he had been sunburned badly enough already. He put it on his head, the straw material chafing his forehead. The Brit sighed. Perhaps this was just what thee doctor ordered: a day in the sun to figure himself out. He snickered at his own joke. Hands full of little packages and tools, Arthur walked down the stairs and out his back door from the private examination room. He was met with the same stifling silence as his fist day in Sandy Flats, but now it seemed almost comfortable. Familiar. Unlike the hubbub of the city, this silence did not change. It had no foreign sounds, no unrecognisable voices, although he was certain h could hear the Italians arguing far off.
He opened the little gate to the fenced-off area, stepping inside with tender caution. Arthur dropped the seeds on the ground, kneeling in the dirty soil. However familiar the silence had grown, the Earth was still as bitter and dry. Arthur was famous for his gardening back home, able to make flowers bloom and trees grow and exotic fruits appear, but he simply couldn't see how anything could grow out here in the nothing. Like hell if that would stop him, though.
He splayed his fingers over the ground. It felt soulless. Barren. Full of nothing. But Arthur had heard of people who lived out in these sort of places, perhaps in this very spot at one point. Sure, his cooking wasn't superb, but if Arthur Kirkland couldn't grow plants in this hell hole, then no one could.
Arthur set to work. This ground had not been cared for in a long time. He laughed; maybe that was why it was so bitter and cruel. It simply felt unloved.
The silence overtook him again as his hands grew dirty and the Englishman sank further into his own thoughts, What a wake-up call he'd had this morning, what with that silly note. It was as if he and Jones shared a secret, an inside joke that only the two of them found funny or understood. This created a bond between them that Arthur certainly did not anticipate beforehand, a sort of amicable friendliness. What was the bloody joke, though? That somehow, Alfred – no, Jones, kept bringing Arthur to bed? Arthur turned light pink at the thought. Certainly not that! That made them sound like lovers and that simply wouldn't do.
Arthur admitted that he was thoroughly embarrassed about the entire evening last night, and the morning that he had spent with Alfred. The mere memory made him flustered! First their heated argument, which had been admittedly one-sided, then their breakfast and the awkward conversation at the party, which was an odd sort of flirting in his own way, Arthur confessed to himself. He turned even pinked. Oh! And the way that Alfred – argh, no, Jones, had pressed him up against his back, hiding him from Braginski's view – still, why, Arthur could not figure out – that vulnerable look they shared and then Alfred – no, god damn it, Jones helping him onto the pinto and his heartbeat so close to his ear and the adrenaline and the noise and the disappointment and the note and –
A crow cawed sharply, bringing Arthur promptly back to earth, looking down at his little trenches, ready for seeds. He- he couldn't explain what came over him; why he smiled so fondly and turned so read when reading the note. It was ludicrous! Romance and Arthur were like pickles and marmalade. One sour and the other sweet and horrible together. With a wince, Arthur was reminded of which one he was. Memories came back to him.
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Rain hurtled at the windows, large, scarcely decorated rooms dark yet ornate. Impassable walls and unfriendly statues stood in corners, peering down at the blonde boy, home from University for the summer holidays. His eyes, a piercing green, were as lifeless as the room, and the shadows beneath them as haunted as the empty fireplace, his sandy hair now almost dusty.
A small boy opened the door to the dark room, observing with awe the way that the other stood staring up at the white marble man, with an elegance, backlit by large windows without the curtains drawn, letting in the moonlight. He closed the door behind him, a wicked sneer on his face.
"Oh boo hoo, Arty's heartbroken, better call Mum! Better come home for holidays since he got his poor little heart stomped on by some boy at school! Better not hang out with his friends like he always does, better come dirty our doorstep with his bloody TEARS!" The boy laughed, pointing and waving his finger, large sailor hat nearly falling off of his head as his snickered bitterly.
The sandy blonde boy looked up, wiping away fresh tears and roared, turning closer to crimson with every passing moment. "GET OUT! Peter, if you don't get out of this room this INSTANT, I will put you in a parcel box and ship you all the way to Kent and let you bloody walk home!"
A flicker of hurt passed through his younger brother's eyes before he turned and skipped out of the room. "Who would ever love you?"
With that, the door closed, and Arthur was left with no one but his shadow and the marble man.
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Arthur packed the soil over the seeds, watering them with plenty, his heart low and his head hung. Peter had been right. To recognise his feelings would only mean heartbreak and rejection. The Englishman wasn't sure if he would ever be ready for that. He stood, closing the gate behind him and centring his overalls. Because, anyway, who would ever love him?
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OKAY WOW. This is actually a very important chapter. It's not just a filler, I swear. Here's why.
The garden is a recurring theme in this story and has some huge symbolic stuff in later chapters.
It shows Peter's relationship with Arthur. Bonus points if you figure out the real reason why Peter is so bitter to Arthur. Don't post it in the reviews; send me a message. P: I'd really like to see if I made it obvious enough.
Clearly, Arthur came to some conclusions.
I purposefully planned it so that every 5th chapter would have something very important. You'll notice it more as the story evolves.