Risico
Chapter 14: Consequence
Beta-ed by Trumpet-Geek!
Fluffy chapter, just because I felt like writing fluff! Sorry! :3
Reviews:
Funky Bracelet Chick: ! ;D
OMGitsgreen: OMG, I'm so glad you do! :DDD
denise134: ^^ Thanks!
Renuki: Beware, Yao, Mattie's on the loose. Mwuhahaha.
Trumpet-Geek: I should totally do that! :D Haha
aerrow4eva: Ugh, hopsital waiting room chairs give you a stiff back just from sitting in them! :P
Lunatic Grey: You don't ever have to be afraid of me, silly goose! I don't bite reviewers! Hehehe. :D I'm really glad you like how I've personified everyone, too! Thanks for reading and reviewing :)
Kraut: Awww thanks! *blushes* xD
Bella: Lol, I'm glad the Al/Art banter made your night! Hehe.
blackcat: Al the man-whore is slowly growing on Artie. ;) And yes, I love the Nordics, I could never leave them as generic no story bad guys. ;)
When Arthur woke from his morning nap, he felt as though he were in a strange daze. Looking around, it took him a moment to realize where he was. The sterile smell, blinding florescent lights and low drone of human commotion could only mean he was still at the hospital.
"Welcome back to the world of the living!" Alfred chimed.
The Brit groaned, rolling over on his back and rubbing sleep from his eyes.
"What time is it?" He inquired groggily.
"About two in the afternoon."
Arthur grunted.
"Evie is going to kill me."
"Yeah, she's been calling you a lot. You really need a better ringtone, by the way. I thought I was gonna go crazy if I had listen that generic, pre-programmed song one more time!" The American complained, wearing a cheeky grin.
Arthur shuffled in his pockets, searching for his phone. He pulled it out and the screen lit up, displaying a long list of missed calls from his office.
"Let me guess, you didn't have the decency to wake me up?"
"You didn't even budge for any of those calls. I figured you were really tired, so I told Matthew not to bother waking you up."
"How thoughtful!" Arthur groaned. "I'm going to get fired because you, git!"
"Oh you'll be fine! Everyone plays hooky, right?"
"I have not missed a day at work since you! That's twice now I haven't come in."
Alfred laughed and lay back down without responding. His mouth gaped in a yawn, and Arthur felt a sense of sympathy for the wounded American agent.
"Feeling any better this morning?" Arthur asked, rolling onto his stomach so as to properly watch the American. The other's deep blue eyes shimmered.
"You're like a cat."
"Pardon?" Arthur asked, cocking a brow.
"You keep rolling around and curling up on that couch like some sort of fat house cat!"
Arthur scoffed indignantly.
"Sorry I cared to ask!"
"I think it's cute."
The SIS agent rolled his eyes as a blush formed on his cheeks.
"Do not call me cute."
"But you are!"
"The painkillers are talking."
"No, I turned the morphine flow down."
"Then you're just an idiot."
"Actually, I'm pretty smart."
"I've seen no proof of that!"
Alfred grinned hugely, confusing Arthur. The Brit furrowed his brows in general suspicion of anything the American chose to use thatgrin for.
"I fail to see the humor in this."
"Your eyebrows. I just noticed how huge they are. They make your face look funny when you get mad."
Arthur sputtered, unconsciously patting his bangs down to try and hide his eyebrows.
"Shut it!" He growled back, glaring death at Alfred. "And how can you be so bloody cheery when you're like this? You look like a sodding mess!" He motioned to Alfred's battered form.
"I don't know. I just am," Alfred responded quickly, a faint twitch in his lips. Arthur could hear where the American's cocky tone had faltered for a moment. Narrowing his eyes, Arthur pondered with suspicion. Vaguely, he mused at the influence of his words. What had caused that change? He was shaken from his thoughts when Alfred spoke up hesitantly.
"Umm, Artie?"
"Yes?"
"I know this is gonna sound weird but, uh, since Matthew went out to go set up with MI6…he's uh, not around, and…"
"Spit it out already, American!" Arthur grumbled.
"You know, the wreck scratched me up and I hurt my leg some…. And my fingers are kinda broken."
"Is there a point to this?" Arthur prodded, drumming his fingers on the faux leather of the couch with impatience.
"I can't get up by myself…." Alfred admitted. "And I really have to use the bathroom."
The Englishman's eyes went wide. Alfred's embarrassed grin made him snort.
"You twit," he murmured under his breath before rising off the couch. He stepped up to the white hospital bed, cocking his head some.
"How do you want to go about this? I don't really know where you're hurting, other than where your bandages are."
"I hurt everywhere, but…." he motioned for Arthur to lean closer. When the Brit obeyed, Alfred looped his good arm around the emerald-eyed man's neck and leaned up. In turn, Arthur tentatively braced his arm around the American's back.
"My back's fine," the blue-eyed agent assured. Arthur moved on to Alfred's legs. Keeping his hands open-palmed, he carefully nudged the other's legs towards him, and off the bed. Alfred winced when his bare, bruised ankle bumped the Brit's leg.
"Sorry," Arthur apologized quickly, giving the man's torso a comforting squeeze around his middle.
Alfred loosed a hard breath, stifling the pain.
"You're fine," he assured, nuzzling into the crook of his neck, sighing lightly.
"You're enjoying this aren't you?" Arthur teased.
"I'm a masochist, what can I say?" The American joked, knowing full well Arthur had meant it differently. The Brit merely chuckled, but quickly sobered.
"Here's the hard part. Tell me if it hurts too much."
Arthur, still opened-palmed, slid his hand down to the small of Alfred's back and the other to the top of his thigh. Pressing oppositely, he flexed Alfred's curved body up, slowly letting the American hold more and more of his own weight.
Alfred hissed and winced through the entire ordeal, testing each sore leg for how much weight it could hold. Using Arthur for balance, he eventually found the ideal way to avoid the most pain. He heaved a sigh, breath tickling the shorter man's neck as he leaned on him.
"This could just be the biggest ploy, Alfred. You're lucky I know it really must hurt," Arthur jested.
"You're being affectionate."
"First I am a cat, then I'm cute and now I'm affectionate to you. Maybe I'm just being a decent gentleman and helping a wounded man up?"
"Do 'decent gentlemen' hug wounded men and grab their asses?" Alfred taunted with a wicked grin. Only then did Arthur fully realize that the hospital gowns were open in the back, and his hand had end up settling on the top of the American's firm cheeks.
The Brit blushed furiously, quickly shifting his hands to rest on the curve of Alfred's back instead.
"I didn't mean to do that."
"Of course not. Now help me to the bathroom door. I don't know if I can walk on my own."
Grumbling, he helped Alfred limp and shuffle to the bathroom attached to the small hospital room.
"You can do the rest on your own, right?" Arthur asked hopefully.
The American chuckled. "Yeah, I'll be fine now. Thanks, Artie."
The SIS agent merely nodded, standing by the door with his eyes cast to the ground as he waited for Alfred to be through.
When he was finished and remerged from the cramped bathroom, he looped his good arm back around his partner's neck and allowed himself to be led back to the white, slightly uncomfortable bed.
Arthur sat the blue-eyed man back down, cradling his back as he laid him down again. The Brit leaned over him as he helped Alfred get his sore legs back on the bed. Alfred inhaled sharply, and then loosed a low groan of pain when Arthur accidentally pressed his hand onto a particularly painful bruise on his calf.
The Brit felt his chest constrict with guilt. He pressed an apologetic kiss to the American's cheek and murmured: "I'm sorry."
"It's alright. I didn't know there was a bruise there until you did that, actually, but…" Alfred trailed off suggestively. Arthur glowered.
"But what?"
"You could do that other little thing again and I wouldn't mind."
"What 'other little thing?'"
Alfred lightly tapped the cheek Arthur had kissed with one of his good fingers. He dropped a flirtatious wink at the Brit. Arthur smirked.
"I think I'll pass."
"Oh c'mon! Show your boyfriend some love, huh?"
"You still have ridiculous notion that we're dating?"
"Duh." Alfred waggled his good finger as if it were obvious. The emerald-eyed agent thought back to the doodle Alfred had scribbled during the meeting and sighed. The American did seem adamant about it.
"Nonsense," Arthur replied, however. "Besides, you're a mess!"
Alfred's smile dropped from his features.
"I'll heal. These will go away," he pointed out, motioning to his bandages and splints.
"Indeed they shall," Arthur agreed bluntly.
"So, a little kiss won't hurt, right?" Alfred pleaded with big, blue eyes turned hopefully up to the Brit, who resigned with a defeated shrug of his shoulders.
"Fine," Arthur stated, leaning down to capture the American's lips with his own. The blue-eyed agent smiled against the kiss, tilting his head for a better angle to taste those thin, British lips.
Neither heard the door to the room click open or someone enter until Matthew groaned.
"Really, guys? I leave for less than two hours and you're already making out? And in a hospital of all places! You've got no shame!" The elder American teased as he walked in with a duffle bag slung over his shoulder.
Arthur wrenched away, his whole face a burning scarlet.
"It's not what you think, Matthew!"
"It's exactly what you think," Alfred disputed with a wily grin.
Matthew laughed.
"I know it, Al. Let me guess, you started it?"
"No, actually!" Alfred tilted his chin up proudly. "Artie did!"
"I did no such thing! You practically begged for me to kiss you!"
"You could have resisted."
Matthew rolled his eyes skyward and dropped the heavy bag to the floor with a thump to grab their attentions.
"Anyway…. Try not to let the hospital staff catch you. They don't really approve of two guys staining their nice sheets."
Even Alfred blushed at the implied statement.
"He can't even get up!" Arthur objected.
"Never stopped him before." Matthew retorted casually as he began to rummage through his bag.
Arthur rounded on the American in the bed with his eyes wide. The CIA agent offered a sheepish grin, but said nothing.
"Anyway," Matthew continued, "I just got set up with building guards and spoke on the phone with Director Peter. I let him know you both were here at the hospital and that Alfred had been hurt. He asked me to give you his regards."
The elder American pulled out a white crew shirt and a pair of gray sweat pants from the duffle bag. He tossed them on to the hospital bed.
"The shirt might be small, but the sweats will stretch. I figured you'd want something more comfortable and less reveling than that hospital gown. Though I'm not sure your boyfriend here minds."
Arthur growled at Matthew as a furious blush painted his cheeks and the tips of his ears.
"We're not dating."
Alfred made a low whine in his throat, making Arthur groan.
"Don't lie to yourself, Arthur," Matthew teased.
The Brit didn't like being pinned by the two American brothers in the matter, but looking back at the wounded blond, he felt a warm tug at his heart. He was cheery, handsome, maybe a bit over the top but certainly interesting to be around. The Brit inwardly resigned his objections. He'd give the American a chance with the boyfriend title, and see how it played out from there.
"SIS and CIA must never know of this, though," Arthur warned. "We all know the rulebook. No relationships between partners."
"My lips are sealed," Matthew swore. Alfred agreed as well.
A knock on the door sounded, and they looked to the door to see a tall brunette woman in a light blue coat enter.
She glanced at Arthur and Matthew, then to a small packet of papers she had cradled under her arm.
"Right…" she mumbled, and then smiled up at them. "I was warned about this room. CIA and SIS agents who have no objection to abusing their badges." She chuckled softly, completely at ease and without a hint of any scorn towards them.
"I would ask what CIA is doing so far from home, but I'm going to assume that it's not my right to know."
Matthew chuckled in agreement while Alfred grinned.
The doctor nodded obviously and looked to Alfred.
"Well I have good news for you. The surgeons tell me your emergency operation went well. Nothing appears to be out of the ordinary with your injuries besides the quantity of them. Your burns weren't too extensive other than your chest. The scarring should be minimal there. Plenty of bruises, but those should heal rather quickly given your age and excellent health. The broken fingers will take quite some time to heal, however. You may need to undergo physical therapy to get full use of those back. I advise keeping the splints on as long as possible."
"Yes, ma'am," Alfred reluctantly agreed. "How long do you think I'll be in here?"
"We are certainly keeping you for at least another couple of days. We're going to have to make sure you didn't suffer from any spinal or brain injuries we might have missed in our initial examination."
The American groaned. He was already fed up with just lying in bed.
"Well, if it is any comfort, I'll allow you visits to the garden, since you seem to be up and doing well considering your condition." She looked to Arthur and Matthew.
"But just because he appears to be well, do not let him overdo it. No longer than an hour up without rest at any time. I trust you can police each other."
"We'll keep him in line."
"Excellent. You can ask any of the nurses to page me if you need anything else," she said, quickly checking over the monitors around the bed before leaving the room with a little wave.
As soon as the door shut with a sharp click, Alfred grabbed the clothes Matthew had tossed on the bed.
"Help me up!" Alfred outstretched his hand to Arthur.
"Absolutely not. You had your adventure for the day," the Brit retorted.
"You call one little kiss and four feet to the bathroom an adventure?" Alfred whined.
"I'm with Arthur on this one. You need to rest," Matthew added with all seriousness.
The blue-eyed agent sighed, leaning back against the pillows with a grumble.
"Go back to sleep, Alfred. I promise we'll wake you if anything happens," Mathew assured. The younger brother rolled his eyes skeptically.
He let his eyes slip shut, and found that it was easy to fall back asleep as the feeling of a raw kind of tiredness crept up his body quickly. Within a few moments he was breathing soft and even in sleep.
Arthur smirked.
"I don't know how you deal with him and stay sane." He glanced sidelong at Matthew, who was rummaging through the duffle bag again.
"You'll learn. Alfred's got his quirks, but he's fairly easy to keep in line once you figure those out. He likes to act now and think later, but he means well no matter what he does. You're sort of already adapting to him, I think."
The emerald-eyed man sniggered.
"If you say so. Either way, I need to call my boss back. I'm sure she's furious with me," he said, pulling out his phone as he walked to the door. He exited as he dialed the number, leaving Matthew alone to watch over his sleeping brother.
`*.:Risico:.*`
"Tino and I managed to escape without injury. Also, I think we've successfully put off the agents tailing us. The accident was bad. I'd be surprised if the man in the Corvette ever walked again."
"Still, the drop was an absolute failure," Yao said through narrowed eyes.
Norge nodded reluctantly.
"Bring Tino in here, if you would. He and I need to have a talk."
"Yes, sir," Norge responded, turning to leave Yao's office. He'd tried to make the botched mission seem like a success, but Yao was clearly not up to accepting that.
When he walked into the room and saw Tino and Berwald talking on the couch, he beckoned Tino over with a gesture. The Fin swallowed hard, saying a quick goodbye to Berwald before rising.
"Yao's office," the aloof Norwegian stated simply and walked past. The big Swede on the couch gave him an odd look when he passed. It was a sort of dark, questioning, and subtly accusing look accompanied by his usual leer.
The stormy-eyed man ignored him and walked on, heading to the armory to take care of his plethora of sniper rifles. Inwardly, he hoped Yao would go easy on the Fin.
Eeep! Poor lil' Tino! :(
Anyway, I've never been to Basildon and Thurrock Hospital, but I've never been to a hospital without a garden or open relaxation area, so I just assumed it would have one too. My apologies if I'm wrong. :P
Also, just a note: entrance into the CIA in Alfred's position requires at least a Bachelor's degree, strong independent work and ability to work in teams with good communication skills. Alfred may be eccentric and a little on the wild side, but he's not stupid. :)