Early December, 1942, London
Arthur shrugged his coat on. It was too cold for Leon to be walking to and from school, but he knew they would have to since he didn't own a car. He would be able to manage just fine, but he made sure to grab a blanket for Leon to wrap himself in on the walk home.
He sighed as he passed the mailbox. He had stopped checking it two months before. The last letter he had received from Alfred was the one he got on Leon's birthday. It destroyed him that Alfred wasn't writing. Was something wrong? Did something happen to him? Surely he would have found out, right?
Arthur found himself listening in to as much war gossip as he could when Leon wasn't around. He listened to the radio during his break at work or chatted with his customers about it. He found that many of their men had died and it made him sick. What if Alfred had been one of them? What if that was why Alfred hadn't written to him?
Arthur sighed and kept walking down that busy London street. He had to stop thinking about Alfred, because he figured Alfred wasn't thinking about him. He needed to stop depressing himself with thoughts of a man who probably wasn't thinking about him at all. It depressed him to think about the fact that Alfred had promised to write, and then he never did.
He sighed as he shivered a little when a gust of wind hit him from an alley. His coat was a bit thinner than he would have liked, but all he truly cared about was Leon being warm. His own warmth didn't matter to him. Nothing but Leon mattered to him anymore. He even tried to convince himself that Alfred didn't matter to him either. Why should he matter if he never wrote to him?
Arthur kicked a pebble near his foot and sent it skittering across the road. He was sick and tired of waiting for a letter that was never going to come. He was tired of waiting for a soldier who was never going to return to him. His heart was broken and couldn't take anymore pain. It was too much. He was done waiting. If Alfred didn't come back when the war ended, he was done with love forever. He knew that he would never love anyone else besides Alfred.
A slight flurry of snowflakes fell from the sky as Arthur leaned against the lamppost and waited for Leon to get out of school. Every day it was the same monotonous routine. Only one thing had changed. Ever since he had smoked that cigarette with Allistor, Arthur had developed a slight smoking habit once more that he knew Mei was cursing him in Heaven for. He was to the point where he smoked a cigarette after dropping Leon off from school, one during his break at work, one while waiting for Leon to get out of school, and then one last one just before bed. And he was an expert at hiding his habit from Leon, knowing that his son hated that Allistor did it and would be even more disappointed if he knew his own father smoked as well.
Arthur put a cigarette between his lips and lit it as he waited for school to get out. His own breath mingled in puffs of smoke along with the smoke from the cigarette. It almost amused him, if only he weren't so down at the moment. At least the cigarette helped out a little. Arthur took a deep drag of the cigarette, concentrating on letting the smoke fill the hollow ache inside of him.
Leon came out of the school just as Arthur finished crushing the cigarette under his boot. "Daddy, it's so cold!" he greeted, shivering.
Arthur draped the warm blanket around his shoulders. "Here you are, love," he said. "I brought it from home because I knew how cold it would be. Let's hurry home, all right? I'm sure you had a busy day at school, right?"
Leon nodded eagerly. "The busiest! It's almost Christmas, Daddy! Santa will be here soon to give presents to all of the good children! Have I been good?"
Arthur smiled as they began to walk back in the direction of their flat. "You have been wonderful, Leon. Santa personally contacted me and said he has wonderful things in store for you."
"He did?!" Leon excitedly asked, eyes wide. "That's so neat!" He grinned widely. "Did he tell you what he's giving me?!"
"He did," Arthur said with a smile. "But he told me not to tell you." He chuckled at Leon's sudden lack of enthusiasm. "Cheer up, buddy. You'll find out soon enough. Besides, surprises are always the best."
The small boy thought it over. "I guess you're right, Daddy," he decided, smiling. "After all, you're never wrong."
Arthur laughed. "Oh, trust me. I have been wrong before." His mind went to Alfred. Was he wrong for believing that Alfred would come back to him? Had he just read all of it wrong? Did Alfred even want to return to him?
"In what ways have you been wrong, Daddy?" Leon asked, looking up at him. He blinked a few times as his expectant gaze remained on his father. "I never remember you being wrong about anything at all."
Arthur smiled at him. "It's kind of you to believe in me. But I am afraid there come times when even I am wrong about things, Leon."
Leon shook his head vigorously. "No, Daddy! I don't believe that! You can't be wrong about anything! You can't! If you don't know anything, then who does?" His panicked expression nearly broke Arthur's heart.
Arthur did something he hadn't done in a very long time. He picked Leon up and began to carry him home. He noticed that his son was shivering despite the blanket, and seeing Leon so panicked at the fact that he could be wrong about things made Arthur just want to hold Leon until he could assure him that everything would be okay.
"It's okay for me to be wrong, Leon," Arthur told his shivering son as he held him close and wrapped the blanket tighter around him. "Everyone has to be wrong sometimes. That's the world we live in." He cradled Leon's head into his chest like he once did when Leon cried at night as a baby. Now he was doing it to shield him from the cold.
"What were you wrong about recently?" Leon asked him, gulping. "Was it Alfred?"
Arthur sighed. "It was. I was wrong when I said he would write to us. But he was wrong as well. Maybe something came up."
"Do you think he's okay, Daddy?" Leon softly asked, asking aloud the question that Arthur asked his heart every night.
Arthur sighed. "I don't know, love," he answered honestly. "Victoria hasn't said anything either. It's really hard to say. She hasn't mentioned him or Matthew in any of her letters since August." He frowned. "But we should keep praying for him and hoping that he's okay unless we hear otherwise." His heart ached as he said those words. He didn't want to hear otherwise. He just wanted Alfred to come back already. It hurt too much to be apart from him.
"I like that idea," Leon said, nodding. "I want to believe Alfred is okay. He has to be. He still has my ball that he has to bring back to me."
Arthur chuckled to himself. "That's right, Leon. He still has to bring your ball back to you, doesn't he?" He thought to himself how innocent Leon's mind must be that Alfred couldn't die in battle yet because he has to bring the ball back. "I forgot about that silly ball."
"It's not silly, Daddy," Leon said. "It's my favorite ball, and he's my favorite soldier. That way, if they're two of my favorite things in the whole world, they have to make it, right?"
Arthur felt at a loss for words. "Right," he softly said, holding Leon even closer to him, trying to make the ache in his chest go away. Why did Leon's words make his heart hurt so badly? "That's a good way of looking at it, Leon. Let's hope the world will be fair and let it work out that way."
Leon nodded and clung to Arthur for warmth. "Daddy, why is it so cold?"
"I wish it were warmer too, Leon," Arthur sighed. He began to walk faster so he could get his son to warmth faster. "But we're almost home. I have the house all warm for you."
Leon smiled. "Thank you, Daddy."
.
A few days later, Arthur sat in an armchair and read the paper while Leon did his homework. He was feeling on edge as he drank his tea. He had even mixed the slightest bit of rum into it, not having drank alcohol in months. It felt weird going down his throat, but it felt amazing at the same time. His eyes kept glancing over at Leon as the boy worked diligently on his homework.
"Daddy, why don't we ever listen to the radio?" Leon asked, pointing to it. "Maybe a little bit of music could help cheer the mood."
Arthur thought about it for a moment. "Perhaps," he decided. "Go ahead and turn it on."
Leon grinned and jumped up to turn on the music. He fiddled with the knob for a moment before the music turned on. "This song is pretty!" he said.
"Making believe is just another way of dreaming," a familiar female voice sang from the speakers.
"Turn it off," Arthur quickly said, head snapping up at the sound of Ella Fitzgerald's singing voice. "Leon, now!" He couldn't listen to this song! He couldn't! It reminded him too much of Alfred!
Leon fumbled with the knob, trying to turn it off as Arthur stood and rushed to the radio. Before either knew what was going on, the radio was lying on the floor, broken, as Arthur and Leon stared down at it.
Tears spilled from Arthur's eyes as Leon began to cry from fright. "I'm sorry," he softly said, shaking his head. "I didn't mean it, Leon…"
"Daddy, it was just a song…" Leon slowly said. "I don't know what happened to make you hate it so much…" He scrubbed at his eyes with his sleeve and ran down the hall to his room.
Arthur didn't even try to run after him. This was his own fault. He looked down at the radio as his vision blurred with tears. Mei's radio was now smashed to pieces all because he couldn't handle hearing a song that reminded him of Alfred...He felt like a terrible person as he sank against the wall and began quietly sobbing. Everything felt like it was falling apart. He just wanted Alfred to come back and hold him and piece him back together.
He didn't even know how much time passed before he felt a small hand grab his and hold it tightly. "Daddy," he heard Leon's voice say. "I'm sorry for running in the house. I didn't mean to make you cry…"
Arthur brought his head up and looked at Leon, who was offering him tissues, which he gratefully accepted. "Thank you," he softly said. "And you didn't do it. It's just that that song makes me think of someone who I hold dear to me. I can't bear to hear it, Leon. But it wasn't right of me to smash Mummy's radio like that."
Leon sat next to Arthur and leaned on him. "We can get a new one, Daddy. I think we should go to bed early tonight. It's been a long day." He yawned as his eyes began to blink slower, his eyelids becoming heavier with each blink.
Arthur then noticed that Leon was wearing his pajamas already. He pulled his son into his lap and picked him up as he stood. "Let's get you to bed, buddy," he softly said, carrying the small boy to his room. He tucked Leon into bed, the boy already fast asleep. His lips kissed his son's forehead. "I love you so much. And I'm sorry for scaring you. You don't deserve that. Let's have a better day tomorrow, Leon." He then left his son's room to pick up the pieces of the shattered radio.
.
That night as Arthur laid in bed, the song played over and over in his head. He couldn't get Ella Fitzgerald's voice out of his head, or Alfred's appreciation of it either. He didn't know what to do as the tears just rolled down his cheeks all night. Nothing could stop him from crying. His heart felt broken and he knew nothing but Alfred could ever fix it.
"Please come back to me," he whispered to an imaginary Alfred. "Please come back. I can't take it without you. You brought back my purpose in life. You reminded me what I'm living for. Alfred, you need to return to me. Please come back…"
He knew Alfred would never hear his pleas, though. He doubted Alfred even cared. What if what Alfred did for him, Alfred falling in love with him, was all just a trick? What if Alfred had no intention of ever coming back to him? What if Alfred only wanted to sleep with Arthur before leaving for war just to say he slept with someone? Arthur didn't want to think like that about Alfred, but what if that really was how he was?
Arthur rolled over in his bed and huffed out. Fine. He didn't need Alfred anyway. But even as he tried to tell himself that, he knew it wasn't true. He couldn't stand life without that bloody American. He needed him badly. It was almost as if Arthur couldn't function properly without seeing Alfred or reading his letters that he used to send. It frustrated him knowing that Alfred was probably doing just fine without him.
Arthur felt an almost stabbing pain in his chest. Was Alfred really doing all right? Or was he just telling himself that? What if Alfred was lying in bed just like this every night wondering the same about Arthur? What if that was why Alfred hadn't written, because he figured Arthur didn't care? It made Arthur almost sick to his stomach. He wished he had a way of contacting Alfred. All he wanted to do was let Alfred know he was waiting for him, and wanted to know if Alfred was waiting for him…
.
Mid-March, 1943, London
Arthur heard a knock at the door and looked up from the book he was reading to Leon in the living room. "I wonder who that could be," he thought aloud. Being the weekend and not having planned for visitors, he and Leon were still in their pajamas. He quickly went to his room and got his robe as the knocking continued. "Coming!" he called to the door as he entered the front room. He nearly fainted when he opened the door.
"Wouldn't mind a visitor or two, eh?" Matthew asked him, standing at the door in a normal soldier's uniform. He had a hand on Alfred's shoulder as the American looked about ready to pass out. "I can entertain Leon while you two catch up."
Arthur couldn't find the words to say. He simply moved aside to let them in. He didn't even know what else to do. His voice seemed lost into an abyss along with anything he had ever thought about Alfred not coming back to him.
Alfred stood there for a moment. "Look, I can explain," he began. "A lot has been going on. Mattie got demoted and-"
"Shut up and fucking kiss me," Arthur growled at him, grabbing Alfred by his collar and kissing him with everything he had been feeling for the past year. The kiss felt so right, so perfect to him that he moaned out softly against Alfred's lips as he heard Alfred do the same.
"I knew it!" Leon shouted, coming into the room. "Daddy, I knew you were in love with Alfred!" He jumped up and down excitedly, pointing at Alfred and Arthur and giggling happily. "I knew it! I knew it! I knew it! Look, Captain Williams!"
"It's Private Williams now, kiddo," Matthew corrected, walking over to Leon. He smiled down at the boy. "Let's give them a moment, eh? How about you tell me all about school? And I want to hear just how great that sixth birthday of yours was," he said, leading the boy into the living room.
Arthur snaked his arms around Alfred's neck as he kissed him, opening his mouth to give Alfred access. He moaned out when he felt Alfred's tongue exploring his mouth for the first time in almost a year. He had never met a more perfect man than Alfred F. Jones.
"I told you I'd come back," Alfred told Arthur when they broke apart for air. He had his hands placed firmly on Arthur's hips. "I love you, Arthur Kirkland. You're all I've ever thought about for the past ten months."
"You stopped writing," Arthur softly said, tears in his eyes. He couldn't think of anything else to say, yet he didn't mean it to sound as accusatory as it had come out. But once he had started, he couldn't stop. "I was so worried that something had happened to you and then you showed up here with no warning at all and just expect to sweep me off my feet. I thought you were dead! I thought something terrible had happened to you!"
Alfred hung his head. "Arthur, I'm sorry," he softly said. "I was wrong not to write to you, but it was so hard. I know that I'm not the only one who will hear this lecture from a loved one. Mattie's probably going to hear it worse than I will, and probably not even in English for half of it." He frowned. "And I know sorry will never be a good enough excuse for not writing to you, but hear me out. You have no idea how hard it is to be in training with all of those people and to write letters but never be able to get even one in return. Arthur, it's worse than getting a 'Dear John' letter!"
"A 'Dear John' letter?" Arthur asked, raising a thick eyebrow.
Alfred sighed. "Right, you don't know what those are. Those are letters that soldiers get from their girlfriends back home saying that the girls don't want to be with them anymore or that they found someone else. Arthur, I saw two men kill themselves over letters like that. It was awful. And then I had to help Mattie out. He's still not doing good at all, but I told him that maybe being around Leon would help make him happy, and I think it's working."
"Not doing well?" Arthur asked. "What's wrong with him? Is he sick?"
Alfred shook his head. "He has a lot of trouble getting out of bed, and I don't trust him alone," he softly said, aware of how loud his voice was. "I especially don't trust him alone with guns. Not that I think he would kill himself, but it just scares me."
Arthur frowned. "What happened to him? He seemed so happy when I met him."
"Irunya happened," Alfred answered. "She is a girl he fell in love with when he was transferred to Russia. I guess he lost his virginity to her on his last night there, and she's been on his mind every moment of every day since. Arthur, that's been about a year. Is that unhealthy?"
"I don't think so," Arthur answered. "Alfred, isn't this the first time he ever fell in love? This is normal. And I bet this Irunya girl is worth him being this lovesick over. Especially if he is as oblivious to love as you say and finally fell in love."
"He's as crazy about her as I am about you," Alfred confirmed, smiling. He pulled Arthur closer by his waist. "I love you, Arthur." His lips met Arthur's once more. "Now I think I should go talk to Leon. I have something for him anyway."
"You do?" Arthur asked.
Alfred took off his boots and then pulled a small ball out of his pocket. "Do you think I'd want your son to hate me?" he asked with a smile. "I made sure nothing happened to it, and it's back safe and sound."
"You truly are a hero, aren't you?" Arthur asked, smiling.
"Only if I'm one to you and Leon," Alfred answered, smiling.