Well hello folks this is the last chapter in this story I think; we'll know for sure at the end of it. But I'm starting to think about doing a sequel. I'm thinking something on the humorous side I just need to think of a good plot line. I have a few Ideas bouncing around in my head.

So anyways I've been reading the Bloody Jack book series by L. A. Meyer, bought books three and four last month and of course I love it I recommend it to anyone who likes English pirates and the royal navy and what not. I particularly loved this one page, it really made me laugh.

In the Belly of the Blood Hound; pg. 87:

We work on Herr Mozart's String Quartet in B Flat, the Hunt Quartet, and some of Herr Haydn's stuff, too. There are sure a lot of Germans in this business, I'm thinking as I saw away on poor Lady Gay, but, hey, they seem to be good at it, so why not? But what are we Brits especially good at? Architecture? No, the French have it all over on us on that. Art? No, we ain't a patch on the Italian artists when it comes to painting and sculptures and stuff. What, then? Ah, I conclude glumly, It's war, bloody war, and war at sea, at that.

Well I just loved that little exert and laughed my ass off when I read it (also made my color guard and Hetlia friends giggle as well.) Well anyway on with the story.

Arthur striped himself of his cloths and changed into his sleep wear. The mechanical way he did it might suggest to one that he was not all there in the head… not in the insane way mind you, but in a way that would suggest that he was preoccupied with his thoughts. He picked up the cloths making the polished hardwood floor once again spotless. After depositing them into the wash basket he sat down on the edge of the bed and stared off into the air.

A little over a month had passed since the incident but his heart still felt heavy. He no longer randomly cried when in the house, but he still felt bad… well bad was an underestimation; he felt completely wrenched. As twisted as it was Arthur felt that he had betrayed Alfred. He let out a somewhat mad chuckle at the thought. He betrayed Alfred?! Fuck, if anything Alfred had betrayed him. But still…

True, he had no control over the situation but it was ultimately his fault. He allowed himself to get hopeful, allowed himself to believe, then he allowed that hope to crush him. That came falling down like a tone of bricks. And of coarse it was his fault that he wandered into a bare and got completely smashed… without checking what type of bar it was… so, yes, it was his fault.

Somewhere, way, deep down within him, a small whisper of a voice told him it didn't matter. He didn't need to feel this devastated for over that bastard. Alfred had left him. That voice, he supposed, was what was left of his pride. And unfortunately its words, as right as they most likely were, fell on deaf ears. And despite the incident in the park, he still felt a damned shred of hope clinging to the muscle in his chest. Arthur still felt that there was a slight chance.

He flung himself down onto the bed so that he was no longer sitting but lying down on the cool comforter. He stared absently at the hands in front of him.

Well thinking about it isn't going to make me feel better, he thought to himself. So Arthur used the last of his almost nonexistent energy and crawled into the blankets and slipped into darkness.

THUD

Arthurs' brain registered a muffled thump in the quiet night. Slowly, he opened his sleep blurred eyes. Honestly he was slightly confused as to why there would be such a sound in the night… in his house… in his room… while the owner slept. And something tugged at his brain told him he should probably be feeling something along the lines of extreme fear or be very angry at the intruder. However he could only muster a slight annoyance at being awoken.

After rubbing his eyes, in hopes to clear his sight, with no avail, Arthur propped himself on his elbow and looked around the room; which did him no bloody good really, partially because there was no moon out in the night. He was about to lay back down again when he heard another low thud coming from the opposite side of the bed. Arthur reared his muddled head slowly around to the direction of the noise to find a burry figure of a man sitting on the other side of the bed, his back facing him.

Arthur found it slightly odd that the man was there, as opposed to actually being in the bed. He watched the mans back as he striped himself to his boxers and finally placed a pair of glasses on the side table. Then when he finished undressing he turned and placed a knee on the bed leaning onto it, lifting the sheets. But he paused when he saw Arthur watching him over his shoulder.

"Sorry," the man whispered, looking into Arthurs half lidded green eyes. "I didn't mean to wake you."

Eyes slightly more clear, he looked up at the mans familiar face, looking into the splotches of blue that seemed to shine, even in the absolute darkness. He starred for a minute then mumbled back his reply.

"Uh n'ver mean t'."

He smiled at that and slipped in between the covers. "G'night Iggy," he whispered back, shut his eyes and went to sleep. Arthur continued to watch the man till his breath came in soft, little puffs.

It was then that he moved. He dragged himself to the man and snuggled himself into the mans chest and closed his eyes. He felt the man move a moment latter. His arms drew over Arthur wrapping him into a warm embrace. He felt the soft mouth place a kiss on top of his head and smile into his hair. Arthur then listened to the mans breathing slow again. The rhythmic sound and movement of Alfreds' chest lulled Arthur to sleep.

As he sank into the blackness that surrounded him again and he felt a thought form around his incoherent state

I hope I remember this dream.

Warmth. That was probably the first thing Arthur felt, the warmth of the sun penetrating through the window onto his body. He was still not completely there though; he was still floating in a state of dream and awareness. The second thing he sensed was something that smelled very appealing that mixed with the sun shine. It was an altogether pleasant feeling that bearded a hint of nostalgia.

The third thing he realized was how odd this all was. He shouldn't be feeling the sun warming his flesh. His side of the bed was always in the shadow of the room. And he wasn't one to roll around in his sleep, unless he was drunk. But he clearly recalled going to bed very somber. So why was he on HIS side of the bed?

He also shouldn't smell this delicious sent. It almost smelt like waffles, and tea. Arthur's train of thought paused there as if too tired to carry on. There was something else in the smell. It was very familiar but unrecognizable in his morning stupor. And the annoying thing was it felt like it was something that was banging on the front door of his memory.

Well, what ever it was, it was too impatient for him to get his ass in gear and kicked open the door in his memory. It was coffee.

Not just any coffee though. It was ALFREDS' coffee. The same exact type that Arthur thought he got from some smuggling business because you couldn't find it anywhere else.

And with that his eyes snapped open no linger feeling tired. Arthur stared at the ceiling in shocked silence; of course some part of him calmly realized that he indeed was on Alfred's side of the bed, but that part of the brain had been completely forgotten. And it was at that exact moment his brain supplied him with a moment from his forgotten dream.

"…n'ver mean t'."

He smiled at that and slipped in between the covers. "G'night Iggy". His arms drew over Arthur wrapping him into a warm embrace. He felt the soft mouth place a kiss on top of his head and smile into his hair.

Oh… My… GOD…

He launched the covers off and practically ran off the bed. Well, he would've run, but within milliseconds of his feet hitting the floor they tangled in an object in his path. And Arthur fell face down onto the cold polished wood.

He mumbled a few curses and lifted himself onto his knees and looked behind him. What the hell was th…

Pants. There were pants on the floor. And a shirt and a pair of tan work boots that were crusted with mud. Boots that were way too big for him. He stared at them in shock for a moment. There was no way in hell he had left those there. He launched himself off the floor and reached the door, which was inconveniently placed across the room, in three very lengthy strides. Arthur continued his pace into the hall but stopped at the foot of the stair, breath coming in a slight pant from the slight exertion… or the adrenaline.

He stood there and debated whether or not to go down the stairs to see if it was true. He could almost hear his bed calling back to him asking him to sink back into the peaceful state of ignorance. His pulse raced and his body, which should have been tired after just waking up, felt excited. Every muscle in his body wanted to move, to do something, anything, anything but stand there. His brain wanted to stay upstairs and refused to let his body move. Arthur was afraid. And his fear had him frozen in place.

But his heart wanted to know, to find out. So, bighting at his bottom lip, he slowly descended the stairs. Each step seemingly pushing more adrenaline into his body, to the point that by the time he reached the last step his body trembled.

Just a few more steps…

Pressing his body against the wall, Arthur stood just behind the entrance into the kitchen where the smell was coming from. He leaned his head against the wall and closed his eyes. All Arthur would need to do is move his head a few inches and he would see. His throat felt as if it was parched and the room had gone up fifty degrees.

I can't do it, he thought to himself. There's just no way.

Oh just stuff it will you! Pride shouted at him. If it is him, then you should go in and beat the bloody fucker to a pulp for leaving you! ……. and if it isn't him you should still go in and beat the intruder.

The voice in his head had a point, he thought dryly. He swallowed and opened his eyes. Slowly, he moved his head and looked into the kitchen.

Ok….. well I was going to finish it with this one but…. I feel like writing another chapter. I was going to make this one really long but I decided that I had another one in me. PLEASE DON'T HATE!!!! I'll try to make the next one amazing!!! I will end it though. I think it's amazing I was just going to make this a little two shot but look at it now! I swear this story just writes itself!

So please review! Any comments will be greatly appreciated! Even hate mail! And of course if you would like to make any corrections to my grammar, go right ahead.

And thank you sooo much to all who have favorite-ed (?), commented, or liked my writing style.