Hello~ If I am not alive then that means I am updating this from beyond the grave! At least that what it feels like. Words cannot describe how awful I feel for putting this story on hold for so long, but with going to two schools I really can't help it. Life a bus that keeps running me over each time I get up and dust off. Please forgive me. Anyways, here's the new chapter that is long so I hope you all like it!
Disclaimer: As always the characters nor Hetalia itself belong to me, all praise dear Hidekazu Himaruya! (Anyone see Hetalia: Beautiful World English dub? :3 )
Characters: Tino Vainamoinen (Finland), Berwald Oxenstiernn (Sweden), Irunya Braginsky (Ukraine), Borre Thomassen (Norway), Elizabeta Hedervary (Hungary), and Erika Vogel (Liechtenstein).
Chapter 6: Betrayal
Sometimes life doesn't go as planned. Sometimes a door opens and instead of walking through like you know you should, you instead close it, hoping that you can last a little long in the hellish hall, that you're able to vanquish every monster you come across. You try to light the candle to ensure the darkness doesn't envelope you, covers you in a thick veil that takes hold of your heart, your lungs. You are unable to breathe and you're left drowning in that dark abyss.
The candle you lit was made to lift the weight from your shoulders, but eventually the darkness snuffs it out as well and you are left to die cold and alone; your last regret will be never walking through that open door.
As he said goodbye to his brothers he realized it was too late. He had lost that opportunity to walk through his desired door, he didn't just ignore it, he closed it at his own will. He was now trapped.
"Aye, ye know ye can call either one of us if ye decide that ye changed yer mind." Allistor held his youngest brother at arms length, a tight lipped smile placed itself on his features, green eyes unusually soft for a mob boss. He then looked over the blonde's shoulder to glare daggers menacingly and their mom and her boy toy who managed to show up here and there over the weekend.
"Yeah, I know," Arthur mumbled, his own green orbs shadowed and casted down to look at his studded boots and his brother's black leather business shoes. He suddenly felt a hard squeeze as he was enveloped in a comforting hug from Allistor only to feel the same pressure come at him from behind to which he consciously knew was Seamus.
He wrapped his arms to reciprocate the loving hug, "I'm going to miss you, you bloody bastards." There was a hint of a sniffle underlining his voice which only betrayed him when he looked up to see his big brothers' stupid grins; the brimming tears now fell freely down his pale cheeks.
Was it too late?
"Damn it boys, you two have a plane to catch and Arthur needs to get to school! Now leave!" They all turned to see their wretched mother standing on the porch, cigarette in her mouth and arm crossed on her chest. At the same time the eldest brothers hugged the younger to them tighter and narrowed their eyes at the witch of a woman.
"Be good, Arthur. Know that we're only a phone call away," Seamus muttered as his grip grew softer and he got ready to pull away.
"And the whole Atlantic ocean," the blonde spoke with a sadness that tugged on all of their heart strings.
"Only a phone call," Allistor whispered, ruffling his blonde locks with a smile and when both had said it Arthur almost believed them. Almost.
"Yeah, have a safe flight guys," he pulled away to see both red heads dip their fedora hats and walked together to the rental car they had gotten not three days before. They waved as they drove away, pulling along with them all of Arthur's hopes of freedom.
He stood there for a while just to stare at the graveled driveway. He didn't bother to reenter the house, his mother wasn't waiting for him in there. He simply stood for awhile before shrugging his backpack in a more comfortable position and headed off into the forest for school.
This was going to be a dark and grueling day.
Plugging in black headphones he blasted instrumental hard rock music, his hands deep within in his pockets, enjoying the feeling of dead pine needles and twigs crunch under his studded military boots before he reached the pavement of the road that lead to the student parking lot of his school. Arthur inwardly cringed and sneered at the very sight of the buildings.
After the decent break from hell he had spent with his brothers the world just seemed much darker than he thought possible. All the cons of living washed over the blond Brit like a tidal wave of doom and he tried desperately to shake of Grim's cold fingers from his shoulders before entering the school's heated hallways.
The emptiness of his life was showing and he had to fill it. Somehow, in any way. Feliciano, he had to find Feliciano. His only friend who would always be there no matter what. His pace sped up as he walked the halls, the shadow of depression slowly creeping up on him like the Boogeyman and a whirlwind of emotions washed over his darkened frame, swirling him into an abyss below the water's ice covered surface that he was starting to realize he could not escape from.
He was about to turn the second to last corner when he abruptly slammed into a broad chest, causing him to fall back onto the tiled floor. Arthur grumbled, wincing at the pain from falling on the hard ground and looked up at the menacing shadow that loomed over him; much like the monster he was running from.
"Oh, hello Kirkland. It is a lovely morning, da?" an intimidating Russian accent greeting the punk teen.
Shit.
Green orbs scanned over the looming teen's features to see that the strong contours gave way to the shadows of bruises and cuts that marred his facial flesh with the possibility of more as the light haired teen winced, and his stiff shoulders slightly quivered.
Arthur swallowed down the fear induced lump that formed in his throat and prepared for war.
"Hi, Shitvan. I see someone threw your ugly arse face in a meat grinder, or did you turn down your incestuous, psychopathic sister again and she couldn't handle the rejection so she hit you with a lead pipe?" the blond Brit gave a low chuckle and smiled up at the frowning teen. He knew he was going to get punished for even walking into Ivan, but at this point he would take anything just to come back to reality.
"I don't think that was very smart to say, Arthur." He gave a soft but menacing smile, his violet eyes closed as he looked gleefully at the tortured soul. A black aura wrapped around the football player and at that moment Arthur truly regretted what he said.
He started to get up from the tiled ground as an attempt to escape the sink hole he had gotten himself trapped into but was promptly pushed down to the ground by the Russian's snow boots. Arthur coughed at the pressure on his chest and the pain from being thrown back onto the floor, he grasped Ivan's ankle in attempt to remove the boot from his heaving lungs. "You don't really think I would let you get away with that, do you?" he whispered as he leaned down closer to the British teen, malicious smile still in place.
"Okay okay, bloody hell. Can't you take a joke?" he breathed out, green eyes glancing around to see if there were any witnesses that would be willing to help. He had to suppress the fear that threatened to over flow as the blond realized that he and Ivan were alone, not even a back up madman stood beside the Russian.
He was alone.
His eyes widened as the shadow of a black boot came down upon his features. He had a zero chance at blocking this attack. Arthur first felt the soft brush of air that caressed his cheek, like having a pile of feathers gently land on you. It was always before the blow that Arthur found comfort because the waft of air being exerted through the action always made him feel as though he were flying before the potent, agonizing pain collapses and drops him back to earth. Back to the cruel reality that he truly belonged to.
What would it be like to spend forever in those seconds before the violence?
However, those seconds shortly passed and Arthur was greeted with the rough ridges of the bottom of a boot, the stinging torture licking up his nerves like a dancing fire and he soon found that this pain wasn't going to stop as his face was delivered another blow shortly after the first. Once the blond teen was able to he faced away from the treacherous sky, instead facing the floor of the lockers while protecting his now bloodied features with the palm of his hands. He hoped that his nose wasn't broken.
"What? Not fighting back today Arthur? Tsk tsk tsk, I feel so robbed." he heard the taunting accent and he gritted his teeth in order to keep himself from digging a deeper hole in his grave plot. The maggots were already eating at his soul.
The tip of the brute's boot came in contact with Arthur's abdomen and he grunted at the pain, he was sure that Ivan had the intent of causing internal bleeding because even as Arthur curled into himself, the light haired teen continued to send kick after kick and the blond started to wonder why no one had even heard the violence. Why was he so alone when he was close to finding solace in his friend's presence?
Life was cruel.
The beating continued on and Arthur had lost all of the fire that he once had when he had spoken out of turn with Ivan. He was starting to wonder why he had even said that. Was he that far gone that even this would bring him back from the depths of hell only to drive him deeper into the nightmares he was running from? That dark shadow with the cold breath haunted him, and yet he found himself crawling back to it, drawing nearer day by wretched day.
"Now, are you sorry Arthur? Are you going to get up on your knees and apologize? Apologize you sniveling shit!" Anger began to fill Ivan's voice as Arthur continued to refuse to lash back at him, it fueled him, drove him to land more powerful kicks to the weakening blond.
"Eat shit," he retorted causing the Russian to laugh, thrilled at this game.
All the blond could think was When will this end? When can I go back to Feli?
"Hey! What are you doing, Ivan?" A masculine voiced called over and had effectively ceased the kicking. This voice sounded familiar, but it was laced with something that the blond couldn't decipher. Curiosity? Anger? The overgrown teen looked up from the crushed form of Arthur to tilt his head at the owner of the voice.
Arthur, however, stayed in his tight ball, refusing to open his eyes until he heard who it was that stopped the pain.
"Oh nothing, Alfred. Just rough housing a bit." The Russian said sweetly, innocently, coyly.
Green orbs snapped up to see a concerned look cross the school's quarterback's face as he stood far down the hall, too far to see what was really going on, or the see all the blood that pooled around Arthur's head.
"You think I believe that one bit? If you don't leave him alone right now Ivan, you'll pay for it." Alfred said with all of his well known kindness void from his tone of voice as he began to walk to where the Brit and the Russian were at.
Ivan growled out of frustration, Arthur looking up to see the aggravated trait sprawled on the teen's face as he removed his boot from the hovering position he had over Arthur's body. He took a few steps up to Alfred, both stopping just a foot shy of each other. Ivan might have been larger than Alfred by a long shot but the American boy held a presence of complete dominance. There was a reason why he was the school's quarterback.
He had authority.
"Do tell me, Alfred. How will I pay for it?" Violet irises scrutinized the cerulean orbs that glared right back.
Arthur began to raise himself up long enough to lean against the bottom lockers, wincing at every motion. Alfred glanced at the Brit's direction and flashed his eyes back to the Russian. "I could threaten to stop you, Ivan, but what good would that do? No, you'll stop this so called 'rough housing' or I'll not only kick you off the team but I'll leak out your secret to all of the boys. Is that understood?" the blond finished with furrowed brows, crossing his arms and standing his ground.
The Russian clenched his jaw and flared his nostrils as he debated his next move, it was like watching someone debate where to place the next piece on the chess board. The air was tense. "Yes, Alfred. Understood. Have a nice day, da?" he feigned a smile and turn on his heel but not before his glared daggers at Arthur with a ferocious smile causing the Brit to cringe into himself. The heavy footfalls of Ivan Braginsky were deafening as he disappeared down the hallway. Until he was completely out of site did Alfred decide to rush and kneel down next to the bleeding Arthur.
"Are you okay? How much did he hurt you?" Alfred questioned with a horrified expression as he got a close up view of all the damages. He raised his hand to gently touch the punk teen's face but before he could make contact it was viciously slapped away.
"Don't bloody touch me! Leave me alone!" Arthur lashed out in defense and looked down to hide his expression from the football player. He made a move to get up but the action caused his to be hit by a tidal wave of vertigo and fell back down to the cozy floor of the wretched school.
"But Arthur, you're hurt. Here," Alfred got up and reached down a hand to help the blond up, "let me take to the nu-"
"I said don't touch me!" he shrieked as he slapped the hand away again, sliding up the lockers to avoid being attacked by the airy feeling in his head that was replaced with throbbing. He didn't know which was worse. "I can take care of myself!" he retorted.
"Take a look at yourself! You're bleeding everywhere." Alfred snapped back, blocking the Brit from side-stepping him. "You need to see the nurse." he stated with that annoying authoritative voice again.
"This is nothing, now bloody let me go you incompetent arse." Arthur tried to side-step him some more. Alfred grew angry at these tedious actions. Why won't this kid see to reason? His nose was a water fall of blood and dark rings were already forming beneath his enchanting green eyes. Finally, Alfred went to his last resort. He pushed up close to the punk Brit, forming walls around him as he drove him to back up against the lockers, Alfred's arms on either side of the injured blond.
"Arthur, please stop fighting. It's unnecessary." The quarterback's eyebrows furrowed as he looked sternly at Arthur who glared with eyes full of detest that it wounded the American internally. How could he hate me so much? I've saved him twice now. Alfred pondered this and was truly puzzled by the blond's demeanor against him. Did he ever do anything wrong to the Brit? Not that he can recall.
"Unnecessary? I'll show you something that's bloody unnecessary!" And in a flash this injured punk rose his leg to hit the soft tender spot of Alfred's groin. The pain shot up and Alfred instantly dropped to the ground, holding his crotch wishing that the agonizing sensation that reached up to his kidneys would immediately vanish. His face was scrunched in pain, contorted unattractively as his looked up to see the blond Brit making a break for it around the corner down another hall without a glance back at the quarterback's way.
Why?
Arthur blindly ran from the scene with his backpack trailing behind him. One more hall, one more long hallway until this morning would end and he would be in the comforting presence of his Italian friend.
Why does that annoying prick always stick his nose in other people's business? Did he not know that he just put Arthur on all of the school's ghouls' black list after that little stunt with Ivan?
Arthur swallowed down the fear and shook his head in hopes to forget of the possible future encounters. He could feel his face start to swell as it ached from the beating. He didn't occupy his thoughts with how horrible his morning was. How he let go of his only escape and was tormented for it within the same hour. He didn't bother because he knew, that when he was alone in his dark room, that those thoughts with invade his mind. The thoughts of his worthlessness and the evidence to back it up will turn into the arsenal used to kill whatever hope he had for his pathetic life. He knew that if he stopped running now the battle cries would sound much too early for him to handle. He wasn't ready for those dark thoughts. Not when he was so close to finding Feli.
He eventually reached his refuge, turning into the wall and opened the bathroom door with a blinding speed before locking it up in hopes of blocking out those thoughts that threatened to take hold of every fiber of his being. He leaned his back against the door panting as he looked up. His green orbs widened at the scene before him.
The auburn Italian sat next to another teen, his hand holding a fork stacked with food that was lifted to meet the separated lips of the other male, his eyes were closed as if the bite was supposed to be a surprise. However, when Arthur burst through two pairs of eyes stared wide in shock to the Brit's abrupt entrance.
"Ve~ Arthur! What happened?" Feliciano exclaimed as he got up from the floor to rush to his friend's aid, dropping the food he was holding, not even glancing back at a certain intimidating blond next to him that still portrayed a puzzled expression. Arthur noticed before Feliciano blocked his view that the giant's cheeks tinted with pink.
Arthur recognized this German as a part of the football teen, he was also the one that got Feli to watch the homecoming game. He was large and ripped with muscles for someone his age and the punk teen smelled danger all over him. Whoever the git was, Arthur didn't want him anywhere near his friend.
"Nothing, don't worry about it," the Brit managed a smile towards his friend as he winced, the swelling on his ribs started to make breathing difficult as he panted in raged breaths. "Why is he here Feli? I thought this was our place." He said this while glaring daggers at Ludwig, the German took offense and knitted his eyebrows together at the insult.
"Ve~ but Arthur he's actually a pretty nice guy! He saved me from Ivan and everyone else, and he needed a place to hang out this morning since he's no longer their friend." The Italian teen defended his new found friend, upset that Arthur was so against him.
"How do you know? What if this is some kind of sick game?" The punk couldn't help but remain suspicious; after all these years of torment how could Feliciano easily welcome a guy that hung out with their harassers with open arms?
"It's not Arthur, he really did save me. He even got hurt trying to. Please don't kick him out." The small teen begged at this point, melding his hands together to add to the gesture, and Arthur couldn't help but relax. Feliciano was so earnest how could he tell him no? He may not have liked the situation but his green orbs softened.
"It's okay, I'm sorry Feli, you don't have to worry. Your friend can stay." He said before gathering his bearings about to make his way to the sink before his Italian friend stopped him with an outburst.
"Ve~ Thank you Arthur!" the small auburn hair teen enveloped his friend in a hug causing the punk to groan out form the searing pain that followed. Feliciano backed up with concern swimming through his large chocolate eyes, "Ve~ I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please don't be angry! Come on let's get the blood off okay?" Feliciano panicked and regain his composure easily as he tried to make the tension dissipate with his light and airy voice.
"It's okay," Arthur tried to hide the ache that was evident in his voice as his friend led him to the sinks that he was trying to get to. Feliciano got a wad of paper towels and soaked them in the flowing water before reaching up to dab at the blood on the Brit's face. At first Feli used to be squeamish about blood, but over the cruel years that delivered each of them brutality he became accustomed to it and both friends maintained as much composure as possible when one of them came up freshly injured. They healed each other and sympathized making their friendship a forever bond.
It was moments like this that Arthur questioned if he could really go through with his suicide and leave Feli all alone to fend for himself in this cruel world. His green eyes flitted to the blond German as he stood up to help, handing Arthur another wad of paper to stent off the flow of blood that oozed from his nasal cavities. He gave a short 'thank you' pulling his head back in order to stop the bleeding. Then again, he supposed if this German turned out to be a fine or even better substitute of himself for Feliciano then he might not feel so guilty as to leaving his dear friend behind.
This Ludwig character may be able to protect Feli much better that he ever could.
"May I ask what happened?" the German asked with his accent but it didn't affect how his words were pronounced. He crossed his arms and leaned against the white tile of the walls. Whatever meal these two were sharing was lone forgotten as it was left on the floor.
"Yes Arthur. Who did this to you?" the Italian asked with a troubled expression as he finished dabbing off the red goop from his friend's face. He threw away the dirtied paper and washed his hands, drying them off on his blue and white stripped t-shirt.
"It was Ivan." he gave a low whisper and he eyes glanced down to the drainage of the sink as if it were a fascinating discovery.
"And his friends?" the auburn haired teen croaked out, a slight quiver could be heard in his voice. Arthur only gave a sharp shake of the head. "So it was just him?" A nod.
"How did you get him to stop? Did you fight back?" This time it was Ludwig who spoke and Arthur turned to look him in the eye.
"No, a witness stopped him. You should know him, he's on your team. It was that eejit Captain America with his hero aura suffocating the both of us. Threatened to kick Ivan off the team if he didn't leave me alone." He said and walked past the two, sliding down the bathroom wall to rest his head against it as he sat on the cool tile.
"Alfred? Hmm, I thought he would turn a blind eye to something like that considering that that Russian is pretty intimidating and they seemed to be friends of sorts." Ludwig pondered the subjected blond as if his actions didn't add up causing Arthur a great deal of confusion himself. He thought it would only be natural for that all American boy to step in at the prospect of being deemed a hero for saving a fallen underdog. It seemed to be something that git would do.
"Doesn't matter," he waved it off and looked down at the container with the meal that was obvious who cooked it. Inside was a small dish that had an array of colors varying from a deep red to a vibrant green with bits of potato and egg hidden beneath. "By the way, what were you two eating over here?" he asked and looked up to see the German blond's cheeks flush and he wondered why this was.
Feliciano however lightened up at his dish being noticed, "Ve~ It's a new dish I tried out. It's baked eggs with potatoes and tomatoes! I made it myself this morning and I wanted you both to try it!" the brunette rushed over to the newly revived topic, picking it up along with two plastic forks, handing one to each of the other teens. "Will you try it Arthur?" he asked hopefully as he lifted the dish to his friend's face.
It smelled absolutely heavenly and it caused the punk Brit's stomach to cry out neglect. Over the years of testing out each of Feliciano's recipes he had learned how to decipher each of the aroma's that infiltrated his nostrils. The smell of basil was the first to be decoded as its fresh green aroma invaded the air. He could smell pepper, salt, the juicy tomato and the crisp golden potatoes. Underlining it was the scent of eggs. If he tried really hard he could smell the thyme that would make the dish have a secret warrior on its side, a silent sniper that would shoot out the taste buds and cause an explosion of culture to wipe clean all previous ideas of what food was. How could he resist such a devilish temptation?
"Of course, I would love to try it Feli," he smiled warmly at his friend as he took the offered fork and delved in to fill it up with a plentiful bite. The aroma did not trick him. The colors blasted in his mouth and caused him to forget of the pain and torture he endured this morning. His friend's cooking could always do that for him. "You made it this morning?" he questioned with genuine surprise. When does he find the time to do all of this?
"Ve~ Si, I did! Do you like it?" he leaned down to take in his friend's reaction to make sure he wasn't lying.
"It's absolutely brilliant Feli! This is one of your best creations. Bravo, well done." He said as he snuck in a quick second bite and while he was still weary of Feliciano's new friend he turned to the gruff German that stood next to them, "Go on, you need to try it too." He pointed his utensil at Ludwig whom looked utterly surprised that Arthur directed his comment towards him.
"Vhat? Me?" his accent slipped as he was called on the spot but shook off his slight nervousness as he stepped forward to try the food that was so abruptly interrupted at the Brit's entrance. He was honestly intrigued when Feliciano had earlier told him to close his eyes and open his mouth to which he received a short burst of the array of scents before it blew away. He reached for a fork and took a large bite himself to which he opened his blue eyes wide in astonishment. This was the Italian's cooking? It could beat the number one chef in the world!
"Wow Feliciano. This is... this is wunderbar." he said looking up to see an elated smile sprawled across the Italian's features, absolutely delighted at the compliment. Arthur only smiled at the scene. Perhaps he could grow to trust this German, trust him enough that he would leave his friend in his care once he finally left this world. The smile faltered and turned into a soft, sad one.
I'm sorry Feli.
"Ve~ By the way Arthur!" Feliciano interjected and turned around to grin excitedly at his pal, still holding his dish as Ludwig continued to enjoy it.
"Hmm?" he questioned, mind still gone from this earth, lost in his own abyss.
"Romano is coming to America to transfer on Friday!"
Oh bollocks.
"Hey Frenchie! Frenchie!" Alfred called out from down the hall as he ran to reach his friend. That morning had come to a shock and a great revelation as to what was possibly going on with Arthur. He had to do something for the poor Brit and considering that he was a peer counselor he could seriously help him out. First and foremost he needed his last name to properly report him to the counselor's office and even if Arthur wasn't specifically assigned to him to watch over it would still get him the help he needed.
Even if that British punk kicked him where it hurt, Alfred couldn't remain angry at him. He was injured and scared and it probably didn't help that the guy who hung out with his bully had cornered him against the lockers. Not a smart move on his part, he would be the first to admit it too, but with the rush of the moment and the possibility of going into a one on one battle with one of his friends, it was hard for him not to fret and question the damaged blond. No, not hard. Impossible.
Francis new every name and every secret of the school so he had decided that would be the first person to ask for that kind of information.
"What is it that you want, you overgrown pig?" Francis spat back at him slightly annoyed but tried to make his voice sound friendly. He had heard that during his rendezvous with a certain invisible teen at the homecoming game that Ivan and the rest got into a brutal fight with the new German student and Ivan had informed Francis about the butting of heads with Alfred this morning when he was trying to put Arthur back in his place, on the bottom of the totem pole. He wasn't particularly open to a conversation with the loud American.
Things were starting to get tense in the friend group and as far as the French teen was concern, he didn't want to get his hands dirty as much as possible. For now he would stick to his closest friend, Antonio, and spend a great deal of his time with Matthew, if the shy blond allowed it.
He smiled fondly at the memory of him and Matthew during the homecoming football game. He had actually coaxed the blond to doing the deed in one of the school's vacant rooms. He had to hand it to Matthew, he was also one hell of a lover. And that face he made when he reached heaven's high. It sent shivers down Francis's spine.
It was a tragedy that he was related to the dumb arrogant prick Alfred. Such a shame that they shared the same DNA.
"I was hoping you could enlighten me about a certain someone." He stated as they began to head towards the cafeteria. Alfred was hoping to find out so that when the fifth hour began he could go to his peer counseling class and set up an appointment.
"And who would this someone be, dear Alfred?" he asked turning to the normally childish blond, slightly admiring the change of a mature atmosphere. If he could be like this more often then perhaps he wouldn't see him as much of a helpless baboon.
"His name is Arthur, I just need to know his last name. He's short, thick eyebrows, blond hair and walks around dressed in punk drab." He said with a hopeful tone that this behind-the-scenes man could help him out.
"Dearest Arthur? Did this curiosity sprout because of that little tiff with Ivan this morning?" he questioned and quirked a fine eyebrow his way.
"He told you?" The quarterback asked though he knew that it was only a matter of time before Ivan turned people against him. He knew the Russian teen well enough that he didn't like to be interrupted when he was in his realm of power and Alfred stepped right into the menacing teen's no man's land. He shouldn't have crawled out of the trench.
"Of course he did, you know how Ivan is. You threatened him so he'll threaten you. It's funny, I always compared you two to the cold war, fighting odds, always on the edge of pulling the trigger but neither of you having the manhood to do it." He chuckled as he flicked his wrist and waved his hand in the air at how comical he thought he was. A genius really. "By the way, I wouldn't try to get on Ivan's bad side at the moment. He had a bad run in with the German boy, Ludwig, last Friday after the game because he was picking on little Feliciano, a friend of Arthur's. You probably noticed all the injuries."
"That was Ludwig?" Alfred asked astonished remembering the Russian's bruised and swollen face this morning. He couldn't believe that his new friend could do such a thing, but if this bullying was a habit of Ivan's then perhaps it was for a good reason that Ludwig fought him.
"He also beat the crap out of the rest of the group." Alfred's eyes almost popped out of his sockets. "And the kid you're asking about is Arthur Kirkland. Though if I were you I'd leave that lost cause alone. He's the wrong person to get involved with." Francis gave a stern warning and Alfred returned with questionable glance.
"What do you mean by that?" he asked.
"I heard through the grape vine that he's shrouded in darkness. His family is full of gangsters and not the small fry either. The UK original mobsters. Didn't even know that they were still roaming about these days. In any case, he's bad news so stay away. He could send out his brothers on you and no one would know where you went. I also heard a little rumor that his father killed a man in cold blood. Of course, that's no surprise because of the mob and all but to have witnesses that live? Must have been gruesome and seeing as that murder is swimming through Eyebrows's veins, I'd be careful." Francis wriggled his finger at Alfred in a foretelling manner.
Eyebrows? Sure the kid had thick eyebrows but did he need to be called by that? Alfred thought they were cute...
"Then how come he's bullied so much?" Alfred didn't even bat an eye at this news, sure it scared him but that didn't make him scared of Arthur. Alfred also had a hinted suspicion that Francis could possibly one of Arthur's tormentors by the tone of his voice. It held a sense of malice or annoyance that the blond couldn't shake off. He also had a lot of dirt on him and he could possibly use that to verbally abuse the teen.
"Because Arthur himself is not a threat. Either way I'd be weary of him. He could be a ticking time bomb what with living with that violent, alcoholic mother of his." he added and his voice leaked out excitement with the chance to gossip.
"His mom?" How bad could this kid's life be?
"Yup, heard from some friends of my guardian that were gossiping about it. Apparently she's always been a wreck. Okay, gave you the name, won't ask you why you needed it but let's get some lunch. Promise not to get in a brawl with Ivan? I don't want to get in the middle of your guys' mess." he added before heading to one of the lunch lines, Alfred only mumbling a small 'yes' before trailing behind him.
The small bit of news only made him more worried for the punk Brit, but he wanted to hear the words for himself. He wanted Arthur to admit all of his troubles and open himself to Alfred. Or anyone so long as he opened up.
Lunch had been tense and Alfred kept referring back to what Francis had said about him and Ivan being in a cold war. He could really see it now. Ivan held an aura of rage and distaste throughout the lunch period, occasionally sending sideways glances towards Alfred that alerted the blond that he was a possible target. Ivan sure was threatening when he didn't get to finish his 'job'.
It didn't help that Antonio was nowhere to be seen. He didn't realize how much the brunette lightened up the mood until he was gone. It felt as though the group was being torn apart and it clearly showed as all but Francis and Roderich were covered head to toe in cuts and bruises. He knew that Roderich was too weak to fight so he probably didn't even try to get physically involved. Ludwig must have done a number on them and the American football player made a mental note to never get on the German's bad side.
Alfred also noticed that Francis was deliberately bashing him every chance he got. He couldn't comprehend what he did to have a 'Hate Alfred' bug crawl up the Frenchie's ass and made him so spiteful. It felt as though everything was turning upside down. Though he seemed to be pleasant enough, there was this underlying anger that Alfred could just sense.
He tried to shake it off but with all of the unsolved hate swirling around the group of friends he just couldn't get his head to focus.
Time continued to pass slowly and he tried hard to join into the conversation. About which girls were the cutest today, which teachers were giving everyone a hard time and warning the others of the tsunami of homework that was headed their way. He tried and failed. All he could think about was a certain blond and what he might be up to at this moment.
Alfred didn't know when the Brit had entered in his frame of mind but it seemed determined to stay. He was meek and in the quarterback's eyes he seemed utterly helpless; a small animal cornered by his own nightmares in the little box that contained his life. How tempted the blond was to open up that box and discover Arthur's secrets. It was a puzzle he was dying to solve.
What had driven the young punk to hanging off the edge of a cliff, literally. What gruesome hand had the Brit been dealt that drove him to the point of complete brokenness? Alfred's life was so perfect that he found it hard to comprehend such a notion.
The American boy actually felt guilty for having such a positive life; he was beginning to think that it was his fault that Arthur was so scarred and tortured. He certainly hadn't helped much with Arthur's bully problem. He had heard rumors of such incidents that involved some punk kid being tackled and beaten by Alfred's friends, but he didn't want to believe it. He didn't want to believe that his friends would do such a thing.
But by witnessing Ivan pummel poor Arthur, Alfred questioned if the other rumors were true. And if they beat on Arthur, did they harm anyone else? Is that why Ludwig had lashed out? Was he protecting someone from their tyranny? Francis said he was protecting some friend of Arthur's. Was that true? Ludwig fighting just to fight didn't fit his character so it had to be that.
Trying to connect this maze of dots gave Alfred a raging headache and he internally groaned at the notion that all of the people he assumed were friends were in fact monsters. For now, he would play nice, observe, and dish out the punishments necessary to protect Arthur and any other poor soul that may be attacked by this large force.
The tension in the air was beginning to grow thick and with curiosity Alfred rose his eyes to see the reason why. Striding into the cafeteria stood the tall frame of a certain German that seemed to be on everyone's bad side. The group of jocks glared at Ludwig with an aura of rage that caused the wall of bricks to look over, then tensed, straightening his shoulders in a guarding matter that caused Alfred's eyebrows to furrow.
He stared further when he saw something small move behind the beast of a highschooler. Alfred leaned out of his seat trying to peek at what was behind Ludwig as he began to move towards the cafeteria line for food. To the blond's surprise, he saw a little auburn haired teen folded into himself as he scuttled closely behind the towering German. His baggy blue and white stripped shirt engulfed his shaking frame and his big brown eyes scanned the cafeteria as if searching for a threat. Which by the fear that flashed through his eyes at the sight of Alfred's table, there was.
Alfred turned around to see Ivan's even gaze on the auburn teen and the hinted smile that seemed oh so menacing. The teen cowered further and Ludwig shot the table a warning glare. The small nerd looking boy, with a large curl popping out the backside of his head, continued to scan the table until his brown eyes met Alfred's blue ones. A shy smile graced his features and while Alfred flashed one back on reflex, the corner of his lips dipped down as he tried to comprehend as to why this scared boy did such a thing. Surely they've never met, but even Alfred couldn't deny that the teen looked vaguely familiar. Again, another headache attacked the high school star and he felt that he was slowly loosing his ties to his sanity.
He shook his head, turning around to look down at his half-eaten lunch that he was uninterested in finishing for once. This caught a Frenchman's eye to which he rose a fine blond eyebrow and Alfred responded with the roll of his eyes, glancing at the corner of them to peer back at the little auburn teen who rose on the tips of his toes to whisper something in the German's ears, small hands resting on the back of broad shoulders. The teen side-glanced Alfred and Ludwig gave a slight turn to look at the seated blond then back at the other, seeming to respond to the question.
Alfred shook his head once more, giving the two their privacy while focusing on forming his thoughts properly for the next class. The class in which he will finally get the help that Arthur surely deserves.
Upon the sound of the next period bell Alfred rose from his seat swiftly, causing everyone at the table to raise their brows in question at his abruptness. He flashed them his trademark smile, "Hey dudes, gotta run today see you all at practice!" He waved as he gathered his trash and headed for the cafeteria doors.
The counseling office was at the front of the school and was a long walk but the blond still didn't find reason to rush. He took a leisurely pace, whistling a low tune that sounded vaguely familiar to the Captain America original theme song, with his pants in his pockets.
His blue eyes scanned the emptying hallway of panicked students rushing to get to class or some taking a similar pace as Alfred, sending a lazy smile his way. One such teen Alfred recognized and he sped up to greet.
"Ay! Tony, my man! What's happening bruh?!" He yelled out cheerily as he rose his hand to receive a high-five from the boy.
"Hey Alfred," the teen mumbled quietly back, responding by slapping his hand on Alfred's. The blond smiled warmly at this.
Tony was an exchange student from God-know's-where that Alfred had helped integrate into the school through peer counseling. Alfred honestly loved working with Tony, despite him being cold and withdrawn he could also be friendly at times. He was a short teen, with white hair tinged with a little purple and red-brown eyes that were shocking in comparison. During his first year of high school, some kids had spread a rumor that he was an alien which only isolated the teen further. Only Alfred truly understood what the teen said and so it was difficult for the foreigner to assimilate into the school until he learned English properly. However, if Alfred recalled correctly, he had once spotted Tony hanging out with that little auburn teen he saw today in the cafeteria.
"Tony, you wouldn't perhaps know of a short kid, about this height," he motioned with his hand, "Has brown hair and eyes, wears striped shirts?" Alfred asked curiously, he was itching to remember this kid, especially since he knew just about every face in this school. Certainly he wasn't new or else Alfred would have been given word.
The exotic kid pondered this for a moment before shaking his head, "I don't know his name. I think I might have talked to him once, but he normally hangs out with that Arthur kid so I didn't bother getting too close." He stated this firmly.
"Huh? Why?" Alfred asked curiously.
"Because Arthur's a blimey bastard. I will not affiliate with him." He scrunched up his small nose, folding his arms across his chest and turning slightly away to show his disgust.
"How is Arthur a bastard?" the blond questioned further, puzzled as to why everyone seemed to hate the small Brit with a burning passion. What had Arthur done to put him on everyone's blacklist?
"He's just rude. Anyways, sorry I couldn't help with that kid but if he's a friend of Arthur's I'd say don't bother. That Brit will just ruin everything." He spat bitterly before waving goodbye and heading for his next class, leaving a very confused Alfred in his wake.
That's weird. Tony doesn't normally hate people so easily. Alfred frowned, carrying on his way but much less cheerfully.
He walked into the front building of the school and turned down the hallway to greet large glass doors that read "Counseling Office". Opening the door he looked up to see the head counselor Mr. Vainamoinen leaning against the front desk smiling and whispering to Mr. Oxenstiernn, the Swedish wood shop teacher.
Alfred smiled warmly at that as he entered, walking past two round tables that sat at the front corners of the room, making his presence known, "Good afternoon Mr. Oxenstiernn and Mr. V!" he called out waving.
The two teachers pulled away from each other swiftly, Mr. Vainamoinen turning a bright shade of red from embarrassment and his partner's cheeks only hinting a slight pink while the rest of his face remained stoic.
"H-hi Alfred, glad you came in! If you could, make some calls to take out scheduled students from class?" He asked with his thick Finnish accent, motioning to the desk. He was a bit flustered as he tried to calm himself, the silent man before him looking slightly worried for him.
"Sure thing Mr. V, and bye Mr. Oxenstiernn!" he said before walking over to the front desk. He was planning on asking the Finnish counselor about Arthur, but he figured it would be polite for the two teachers to say goodbye properly. It was no secret that the two were partners, the only thing that stopped them officially was not being able to get married. Hell, they shared a son named Peter. Alfred had met him on one occasion and he had to admit that those three seemed like a much more loving family than the average hetero couple. He truly admired that.
"See you after work Berwald?" The small and lively man asked, looking deeply into his partner's blue eyes that while seemed to be cold to outsiders were in fact swimming with love and adoration for his so called 'wife'.
"Nnh, yes." The blond man of very few words nodded, causing the smaller blond to smile warmly and only to brighten when the wood shop teacher leaned down to kiss him on the forehead, not worrying about Alfred seeing as the counselor was fairly close to him and he knew of their relationship. He moved away mumbling, "Tino," then turning to nod at the blue eyed teen in the corner before leaving the counseling office.
"Uh sorry you had to witness that Alfred," the man said slightly nervous but Alfred waved off his embarrassment.
"That's okay Mr. V, I think it's nice how you two act so passionately with each other," he had responded honestly, causing the man to blush something furious.
The shorter blond cleared his throat, "Right, thank you for accepting our relationship, Alfred," he stated before walking next to the teen behind the counter, "And sorry for not greeting you properly, you don't have to call up those students, please allow me." He smiled warmly, reaching for the phone in Alfred's hand but he waved him off.
"That's okay Mr. V, I got it. But, if I may... I've been meaning to report a fellow peer of mine to a counselor, perhaps even a peer counselor." He added, looking a bit unsure if it was alright.
"Huh? You request a student for counseling? Well... I suppose that is alright but that depends on your reason for it, Alfred." The counselor cocked his head with pondering features that showed his deep concern. Mr. Vainamoinen was very empathetic and sympathetic without pitying another person, that's what made him such a great counselor. He'd often take up students that weren't in his files if he had the time. "What student might this be?" He added, slowly as if worrying as to whom it might be, sitting down in a chair.
Alfred wouldn't blame him for being concerned. The blond teen didn't usually send in a kid to be evaluated and assigned counseling. He'd often coax the kid into taking the first step, so the need to forcefully bring them in meant that this would be a troubling case.
"I don't know if you know him Mr. V, but his name is Arthur Kirkland," light brown eyes slightly widened at his name, "he... uh, well he's not the most sociable of kids and..." Alfred paused, looking up at the ceiling wondering if he should reveal that he had caught and saved the British punk from literally jumping off a cliff, or the fact that he was being tormented by peers. "He seems rather troubled, and I don't think he gets along well with the other students. I wish for you to evaluate him to justify my concerns and perhaps have him assigned to a peer counselor? I don't think he will be friendly to an adult." He finished, looking at the shorter male with pleading blue eyes.
"Oh, Mr. Kirkland you say." the counselor said this slowly with a look that said that he knew the young man all too well.
"So you know him?" the quarterback asked eagerly.
"Yes, in fact all of the staff members know Mr. Kirkland on a level that is uneasy. You see, Alfred, Arthur is the kind of kid with a past that he does well to keep hidden but in a town like this, nothing is sacred. I'm sure you have heard rumors about his family," he questioned to which Alfred nodded, remembering what Francis had told him about Arthur's family running the English mafia, "Then I should give you a fair warning that a good portion of them are true. If you really want to help Arthur, you'll need to be prepared for a heavily guarded young man." He stated firmly as a forewarning of a battle to come.
Blond brows furrowed at this and Alfred began to feel worried, "Mr. V, you wouldn't have worked with Arthur previously, have you?" he asked.
The counselor sighed, making him seem much older than he looked as he leaned back in his chair, "Unfortunately, I have. He was extremely difficult. We started working on him in his freshman year once we were reported of his family's background. For months we tried to get him to speak, to say anything, even a word and after four months of trying and prodding him, he had enough. The first and last words he said was 'piss off' and he walked out the door. The counselors and I haven't brought him back in since."
Alfred let this sink in and he wondered if he really should go on with this. How would Arthur react? He had threatened him that night of the attempted suicide to not go to the adults but Alfred truly couldn't let this go. He had to give Arthur the help he needed despite how difficult he would become, Alfred was determine to reach out and pull forth the poor trapped soul in the cracking shell that he was stuck in.
Alfred gave a determined nod that reached his sky blue eyes as he looked up at the blond man before him with a resolve that was as hot as a burning fire that kindled from the depths of desperate passion.
Mr. Vainamoinen gave a warm smile, turning to the desktop computer in his swivel chair to type a few things onto the keyboard, "Very well. I admire your tenacity. If I can get through to him, even a little, then I will assign him straight to you for counseling. If you seen him enough to be able to read that he's breaking that must mean your close enough to lend him a hand. Is that okay?" he glanced from the corner of his eyes to await an answer.
"Yes," was all the teen said as he watched as Arthur's class schedules were shown onto the screen.
"Good, okay. It looks like he's in guitar class right now. That's actually works perfectly seeing as this is his best class and personally I think he is far too advanced for it. It won't matter if he's out of this class or not. I'm sure his teacher has him assisting the class even." He spoke somewhat cheerily as he wrote down the classroom's phone address to pull Arthur out of class.
So Arthur likes guitar? Alfred somehow couldn't help but be a little happy by this discovery and he felt his heart give a flutter at this. Alfred felt tingly and he tried hard to subside these weird feelings as he heard Mr. Vainamoinen ring up the class.
"Hello? Ah Mr. Thomassen, yes it is very nice talking to you again," the blond counselor grinned from ear to ear as he talked with the guitar teacher. Alfred glanced in the corner of his eye as he caught someone exiting the hallway of the counseling offices, but quickly snapped back to the Finnish man as he noticed that one of the girls were crying. "Yes, in fact I do have a reason for calling. Could you send up Mr. Kirkland to the counseling office? I'm sure he can afford to miss class today... Mhmm... Yes... Understood... Okay thank you Borre, er sorry, Mr. Thomassen!" Mr. Vainamoinen blushed at Alfred's chuckling when he was caught talking to a teacher on a first name basis.
He cleared his throat, turning to look at the two girls that were still in the opening of the counselors' hallway as one was gathering her bearings. "Ah Ms. Vogel!" Both men stood up to greet the teary eyed little girl, too whom brown eyes softened at. "I'm sorry that you're having a tough time getting along with the older girls. I trust that Ms. Braginsky was supportive?" He asked, glancing up at the large breasted Russian teen who held the girl's hand firmly.
The little blond girl nodded, wiping a stray tear from her green eyes and smiled softly, "Yes, Irunya has been very nice and has even invited me to spend time with her and Elizabeta outside of school. Thank you very much!" She gave a slight bow after answering meekly. Truly a strong girl that was only having difficulty with her more jealous, older peers. The Liechtenstein girl being far ahead in school for her age that often enraged the students in the same class as her.
"Oh I'm sure you'll have a great time with Ms. Hedervary as well. I hope the rest of the day treats you well and don't be shy to come back in if you need any help." The young looking adult finished as the blond girl nodded and waved before leaving the office.
"Thank you for helping her at such short notice Irunya, that was most kind of you," he praised and the tall Russian teen blushed slightly.
"Oh, it was no problem Mr. Vainamoinen, it was a pleasure to help." Icy blue eyes smiled as she answered in her deep Russian accent much like her younger brother, but much sweeter and more genuine. Her short white-blond hair bounced as well as her heavenly endowed breasts as she walked behind the counter to file her recent counseling. She sent a warm smile towards Alfred that was returned with a smile so bright that it could put the sun to shame.
While Ivan and Alfred were always tense around each other, the American teen could never feel so sourly around the other's older sister. She was kind and warm, and she was always trying her best to consider other people's feelings before her own. That was what made such a terrific peer counselor; the fact that some students requested her by name said enough.
"I'm glad," Mr. Vainamoinen smiled as he motioned for Alfred and Irunya to assist him. "Now, before any more students arrive on a whim, could you both start calling these students out of class? And Alfred, file your report on your reasoning for applying Mr. Kirkland to counseling." He asked politely as he placed down pink slips of various students and their classes in front of the two assistants to which they both replied with an eager 'yes'.
Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believable. That tosser sold me out!
A particular fuming blond Brit gritted his teeth as he marched down to the counselor's office, his thick eyebrows knitted together to show his extreme annoyance of the situation. So much for trusting someone.
Between dealing with more attacks from his bullies than usual, his constant battle between himself, his mum's new abusive boyfriend, and the fact that his only friend was bringing a new rat into their sacred hangout, Arthur was just overwhelmed with the fact that he was now being pulled into counseling thanks to a certain blond git.
How much he hated Alfred.
His stupid goofy smile that said he didn't have a care in the world. His nice clothes and popularity with girls just hanging off of him. It must be nice to be given everything on a silver platter and the ability to stroke your own ego into believing your the king of the hill, a king with a great big heart as he helps the poor little punk kid on the verge of breaking.
How much he envied Alfred Jones.
Arthur stopped at that thought. Envied? Was that truly all that this was? Was Arthur jealous simply because Alfred had everything while he had nothing? Not even a father to give him a congratulatory slap on the back for acing a test or teaching him to love a girl. Not even one friend to call his own even more. He shook his head and scoffed.
Envy? Please. He couldn't possibly envy Alfred. No, he loathed him. Hated him with every fiber of his being. He was a spoiled cocky brat that needed to keep his nose out of other people's business. He had no place there. As far as Arthur was concerned, that blond quarterback could jump of the same ledge Arthur was planning to and his cadaver could rot for all he cared. He was a lying prick and the Brit could see right through him.
By the time he reached the glass doors of the counseling office, Arthur was seething. Livid as his eyes were struck by white hot blots that only added fuel to the burning flame inside him. Reaching for the handle, he breathed in knowing that if he let his fire die out to small embers he had a greater chance of leaving this office without coming back. He had to maintain a level head.
But what had Alfred told them? Had he squeaked out that part about Arthur being on the edge of suicide? God, that very word sent chills down the Brit's spine as he was well aware that that would be the way he departed from this cold and cruel world. The very thought of this action had him feeling Death's cold breath whispering down his neck, the menacing aura of a reaper causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end.
He breathed in sharply, pulling himself together and opened the door already having his 'I'm a good kid in a healthy mental state' mask already in place. He fooled them once into letting him go about almost three years ago, he can do it again.
Arthur walked the short distance to the front desk, reaching the small blond male he knew all to well to be the head counselor who smiled warmly in greeting, his brown eyes lighting up in excitement that the Brit actually came. "Oh, hello Arthur! So glad you came, if you will please sign in and I will escort you back immediately to get this little thing over with." He had spoken so cheerily that one of Arthur's thick brows twitched in irritation.
"Yes, thank you. I would like whatever this is to finish up nicely." He responded like the perfect gentleman, his facade only dropping for a second as he tossed a glare to a particular blond behind the desk that smiled sheepishly at the cold stare given by the punk's emerald orbs.
He signed down his name on the check list. Frowning slightly at the notion of being here again before glancing up to the Finnish counselor and nodded as he motioned for him to go to his official office. He took one last glance at Alfred to display his displeasure before walking in another hallway to meet his doom.
"Please, have a seat Arthur." Mr. Vainamoinen motioned to the cushioned chair across from his desk as he sat in his own seat. Arthur looked around the office and took notice that the man's office hadn't changed since the last time he was there. The red love seat still sat on the same wall next to the red wood book shelves he was sure the wood shop teacher at this school built with his bare hands for his lover that was full of all sorts of reading material, mainly psychology. Soft blue curtains hung over the window behind the counselor that were a shade lighter than the walls. His '#1 Dad' coffee mug still held all his pens and two flags: a white, blue crossed Finnish flag and a blue, yellow crossed Swedish flag.
Finally, a picture of Mr. Vainamoinen himself, the wood shop teacher, Mr. Oxenstiernn, and their blond, blue eyed adopted son, Peter, smiling happily with each other next to the man's laptop.
It made Arthur sick.
The blond counselor sighed as though he were tired already, and he would be if he were recollecting the memory of having to deal with Arthur before. It was a gruesome battle that led both parties nowhere.
"Okay Arthur, I'm just going to get straight to it and not try to beat around the bush. You're a smart kid and I'm sure you understand that you being here is going nowhere if you don't speak so please let me start off with what I know and then I'll ask the coordinating questions." He spoke and he took out a piece of paper from a manila folder. Arthur could clearly see a scribbled name of Alfred F. Jones at the bottom to which he internally groaned.
"Yeah. Might as well." He responded with a short tempered tone as he folded his arms over his British flag shirt, chains from his plaid pants jingling as he placed one leg on his knee.
The blond adult rolled up his blue button-up shirt sleeves as he leaned forward, scanning over the paper before looking up at Arthur and lacing his hands together, "First I want to say I'm sorry for your loss. I'm sure losing your father without a proper goodbye was hard for you and I understand that you must still be raw seeing as his death was so recent." Arthur grunted in response to which the counselor frowned knowing this was going to be difficult. "Anyways, one of your peers-"
"Alfred." The Brit interjected heatedly in irritation at the teen's name.
Mr. Vainanoinen sighed again and ran his fingers through his blond hair, "Well that cat's out of the bag," he chuckled lightly then continued, "Yes, Alfred is worried about you, but he didn't really specify as to why. He claims that you haven't been looking all that well and that he's notice an abundance of injuries on your body." Brown eyes glanced up to confirm this claim, seeing fresh cuts and bruises all over the small boy in his presence, especially the black eyes and his swollen face.
"Are you okay, Arthur?" He asked in a smooth, soft tone that caught the punk off guard. His green eyes looked up wide in shock as his hairs rose in alert that this was a trap. This was all trap to get on his good side. They used that softness on him before and he didn't break so why was his heart clenching now?
His small frame began to tremble, his mess of blond hair falling over his green eyes that began to startle the counselor. Did he finally break through, was Arthur finally going to open up? He didn't want to expect too much but the hope was bubbling over.
"Arthur?" he whispered in question again, worried that the teen was going to break at any moment.
And he did.
With that bit of softness, Arthur's glazed eyes released small droplets of tears, his body silently sobbing and shaking. He could not control himself and he didn't know why. It was all surreal, he never cried in front of anyone except for Feliciano once or twice. Never a stranger, never to someone who got paid to rake through his miseries and tell him the same thing he knew all his life.
He was all alone and needed help.
Arthur began to furiously wipe away his tears with the palms of his hands as he gave a small sniffle to which Mr. Vainamoinen reached for the tissues on his desk, handing out to the punk teen, who took it quickly. He dabbed his eyes and continued to keep his face hidden. He breathed sharply, trying to regain control of himself at the mysterious outburst. He was at a complete lost to the change in his own behavior. What happened to his resolve? His bravado?
The blond man continued with caution, "Would you like to talk about it Arthur?" The Brit responded with a quick shake of the head, mumbling an 'I'm fine' under his breath, causing the man to sigh and lean back in his chair. "Arthur, you know, if you are having problems, either with other students or even at home, you can talk to me. It will all be confidential, I can even assign a peer counselor to-"
"I said I'm fine!" Arthur shouted, snapping his head up to look at brown eyes hard that widened in shock. Red rimmed around green orbs, and flushed the teen's cheeks and tip of his nose. His thick eyebrows knotted together in a furrow so fierce that had the Finnish man afraid that Arthur was about to lash out physically.
But he didn't relent. He didn't give in this time like he did before; he had learned from this mistake and he wasn't going to let Arthur go without the help he needed. The poor boy needed help, he was suffering but was holding strong to not let others in. He hardened his gaze and schooled his features as he picked out two slips of paper. A small green one that would send the boy back to class and a white one that Arthur still had to discover its purpose.
"Arthur, I'm going to say this very clearly. I don't want you to argue, and I don't want you to go against my order, understand?" he looked up from the white paper he was writing from to give Arthur a hard glare. "Upon this assessment of your emotional and mental state I am assigning you to peer counseling seeing as normal counseling has proved to fail the both of us in the past. I do hope that you relent to letting a fellow classmate help you without causing a fuss. I'm putting you in the hands of Alfred Jones in full knowledge that he is aware of your troubles."
"You must be a daft bastard to think-" Arthur stood up furiously, slamming his hands on the desk in outrage before being caught off.
"And you will be meeting him three times a week. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at this hour. Do not come late or the security guards will pull you out of class themselves. This is my decree and this will be your law to abide by until Alfred checks you out as stable."
"You can't do this to me! You can't possibly put that tosser in charge of me!" The Brit cried out, seething red hot at these turn of events. How? How could that possibly happen? He had broken down in front of a stranger for the first time and they pull this stunt on him? This is why he didn't trust anyone, this was why he wasn't going to trust anyone for as long as he lived. However short that was going to be.
"I assure, Mr. Kirkland, that I can, and I will. Do not fret. Seeing as even I know of rumors of your home life I will not report this to your mother. And no worries about your troubles being spilled across campus. Alfred is under the confidential pledge and will not even tell me what you tell him should you open up. I hope that you will let him help, he's an excellent student and even greater friend. Please, let him help." Brown eyes flickered up to look Arthur in the eyes, silently pleading.
Mr. Vainamoinen turned and made two extra copies of the paper, slipping the original in the manila folder and handing the other two to Arthur along with the green slip to send him on his not so merry way, "Please give one to Alfred on your way out and I hope that the rest of the day treats you well," he flashed a small smile to which the Brit sent back a menacing glare as he stormed out of the office, slamming the wooden door closed behind him.
He stomped down the hallway, his boots as loud as his drumming heart, the chains jingling in a furious dance as he reached the side of the front desk, shoving a paper into Alfred's chest as the American teen stood up to greet him. Arthur kept his head bowed but sneered up at the quarterback, his rage seeping through his skin and evaporating into the atmosphere of the counseling office. Cobalt blue orbs flickered in shock at the face Arthur portrayed before he stomped away in a huff to his class.
Alfred stood there frozen in place. Stunned beyond his wits, the image of Arthur's face tear-stained and defeated forever burning itself into Alfred's mind, almost painfully branding him. His heart gave a twinge at the thought that he was the cause of it before slowly looking down at the paper that Arthur's small trembling hands shoved at him.
Starting the next Wednesday of this week Arthur Kirkland is hereby assigned to Alfred Jones to peer counseling until which point Mr. Jones has decided that counseling is no longer needed. Mr. Kirkland will then be evaluated by the head counselor before being checked off as properly cared for. Days of counseling are as followed: Monday, Wednesday, and Friday during fifth period. Mr. Kirkland will not be attending guitar class with Mr. Thomassen for the entirety of this hour.
Alfred couldn't help but sigh in relief at this news before snapping his head in the direction of Mr. Vainamoinen exiting his office and slugging his way down the hallway with a hand on his forehead in minor defeat, a sigh escaping his thin lips.
"I'll warn you, Alfred. Whatever Arthur is hiding, it's not going to be easy to uncover. This will be an all out war between you two and I wish you the best of luck." He stated dejectedly before moving to flop down at a desk chair, resuming his work.
Alfred looked down at the paper with a small frown but his blue eyes still glimmered with aspiration.
"Yes, I understand."
Arthur had remained partially unscathed through the rest of the day and he was now praying that his mother was not home as he trudged through the forest to the house he deemed as a hellish living space. Last thing he needed was to be beaten up to a pulp after he was already cut from the knees down by a man he had let in for a short while.
Arthur sure as hell wasn't going to make that mistake again. The thought of even remotely opening up to Alfred had yet to be denied in Arthur's mind but so far he was only preoccupied with touching up on his skills of masking himself from the world. As soon as he was finished with Feli's letter, as soon as he was pushed one more time, all of this will end like some horrid nightmare. He swore on this. He was going to cave under Death's weight without hesitation as soon as he said goodbye properly. As soon as he bid his only friend Feli goodbye was he going to leave this world, finally being allowed to sleep for eternity.
He marched up to his house, an air of relief escaping his tight lungs as he noticed that his mother's car was not in the graveled driveway, the garage door left open to emphasize that no one was there to torture him and probably weren't going to be there for the rest of the night.
He entered through the garage door and into the tall and ominous house before shutting the world out. As soon as he stepped into the kitchen, he threw his backpack and cursed.
"That bloody tosser! Eeejit! Nosey parker!" He shrieked, finally letting out all the emotions he left bundled inside, allowing his walls to only tear down for himself and himself only. He instantly flew to the old fridge, pulling out a pair of six pack of beers and a slice of pizza before slamming in shut and running up to his bedroom.
Fuck homework. Fuck school. Fuck life. And fuck that blooming bastard Alfred!
He thought furiously as he opened a can and downed it within seconds since its first crack. He was going to drown his troubles in alcohol as soon as possible and forget that all of this happened. He wiped his falling tears with the back of his wrist as he drank and drank, only stopping for a moment when he finally felt the fog of the affects clouding his mind and he sighed in content. This is what he needed. This is what he craved.
Unlike so many other wankers, Arthur didn't believe in cutting himself, he didn't want to risk the chance of being caught even though he desired such a bloody release. No. He'd rather drown himself in alcohol and deal with the hangover before he mares his flesh and alert Feliciano of his dismay.
No. He can't know about my deepest fears, about my self destructing desires. Feli can't know... Arthur sobbed.
He felt a buzz in his pant's pocket and he pulled out his phone from the depths of his pants to see that he had received a message from the very person he was internally hiding from. He cringed in fear that somehow Feli could hear his thoughts from so far away.
Tossing the cold pizza from his hand but not letting go of his fourth can of beer he unlocked his phone to read the message.
From Feli:
Ve~ Ciao Arthur! Ludwig and I are studying for our classes and we wanted you to come to his place and join us. Will you please?
Arthur's jaw ticked in irritation. That's right. Feliciano no longer needed Arthur. He had that German now. Arthur was no longer needed.
The teen's chest grew tight at that thought. That his life held no meaning to anyone anymore and he broke out into another fit of cries, kicking the empty cans from previous lonely nights as he landed on his bed in the center of the room. He cried and cried, clutching the last pack of beer to his chest as he curled in a fetal position. His heart wrenched and burn like his dying soul.
His small frame shuddered over and over about how broken he felt and no matter how hard he tried, he could not brace himself to stop. By the time he had downed the last can of liquid sin, the yellow drink dribbling down the corner of his pale lips to his pointed chin, his eyes were spent. He could cry no more as his heavy eyelids threatened to close on him. How pathetic he was.
That's right. I'm no longer needed.
a/n: I feel like I am missing a lot of details in this story so if I have and you notice please let me know. I am really a big airhead on and off this computer ^.^'.
So I hoped you all enjoyed this update and thank you to all you lovey readers who have stuck by this story, it really means a lot! Please, I beg you, criticize me if there is anything amiss or you dislike something. I want to make this fanfic the best it can be!
Sorry again for this being so late, I was hoping to give this to you guys as a Christmas present since I didn't make it in time for Halloween or Thanksgiving. So Happy New Year's Eve! Haha, perhaps finishing this story in a timely matter will be my resolution. Hope you all had happy holidays and a fantastic New Year. Welcome in 2015. Oh boy...
To you reviewers:
BeautifulDesertFoxglove: Definitely will not abandon ship ;)
Guest: *Whispers* Thank you.
furrfurr2001 and vellymymare: Kirkland brothers are definitely my favorite too! Mostly because I have a lot of Irish/English/Scottish history in my family, so yeah... But loving brothers are always so cute!
ruby-bee: Thank you for your kind words. As to all of the rush of possibilities everyone will have to wait and see. Nice thing about being an author and getting enveloped in a story is that you don't know yourself what will happen. One minute you plan on writing a fluffy high school au, the next your hanging an angsty punk!Britain off the edge of a cliff. It's a fun journey that I love sharing with you all!
KyoshiWarrior and NBER1HOBO: Love that you two are still reviewing this fic, it truly makes me happy to see that you guys stick with it thank you so much. I hope to not disappoint you, and yes Lovi will be on the plane arriving into this whirlwind of angst! Await the shitstorm of tomatoes!
Thank you to every one of you who is reading this. You are beautiful and remain your wonderful selves. Happy New Year!