Arthur's eyes snapped open. A tan cloth was rippling above him as he lay there. Slowly he sat up, but a sharp pain in his back caused him to lay back down. He breathed heavily, readying himself to try again. Gritting his teeth, he heaved himself upward and gasped in pain once he was in a sitting position. He heard birds chirping outside of the makeshift tent and found the sound relaxing. At that moment, he remembered everything that had happened.
Lifting his good arm he tried to look at the wound on his lower back, finding it extremely difficult. He found that a long strip of cloth had been wrapped around his torso to bandage him up. He also just realized that his injured arm was in a sling to keep him from moving it around. He didn't know why he only just saw it, but that didn't matter now.
What mattered now was how he had gotten their and who had helped him. Looking around the tent he saw a small pile of blankets. He reached over to grab the heap of cloth, but before he touched it, something beneath it began to move, causing him to jerk his hand away.
A groan resonated from the pile and a head peaked out of the blankets. The Brit found himself unable to move. He had not expected a boy to be with him. Perhaps he had a father that carried the Briton. There was no way the boy could have done that. Arthur merely shook his head and opened the tent. He crawled out and stood, to his greatest ability. There was no sign of the battlefield. Now he knew that the boy had to have someone to help him.
A wave of pain shot through his back again, and he swayed, trying to regain his balance. Turning back to the tent, he thought that it would probably be better to stay in it until he was better. He moved the flap of the enterance and found the boy sitting up and rubbing at his sleepy eyes.
Once he got a good look at the now awake man, the boy leapt up and knocked the stick holding up his side of the tent. It swayed a bit, but didn't fall over. The kid was obviously afraid of the British man, and made every attempt to keep as far away from him as possible.
"Hey, now, I'm not going to hurt you..." Arthur stated.
This did nothing to sooth the small boy. If anything, it caused him to be more afraid.
"It's okay," the Brit extended his hand slowly.
The boy's breathing slowed as he calmed down and realized that he wasn't going to hurt him.
"Umm, what's your name?" Arthur asked, uncertain of what to say next.
The boy opened his mouth like he was trying to say something, but no noise came out. A blush worked it's way on his face, showing he was embarrassed for not being able to speak. The Brit smiled at the flustered boy.
"That's ok if you can't talk. Can you write?"
A nod came from the boy.
"Okay, can you write you name on the ground?"
With a shaking hand the boy wrote out his name, albeit sloppy, but legible.
"Alfred..." Turning to the boy, Arthur asked, "Your name is Alfred?"
The boy nodded again, and smiled.
"Well then, Alfred, is there anyone with you?"
Alfred shook his head.
"Then... who brought me here... and..." Arthur motioned to the bandages. "who did this?"
Slowly, American boy raised his hand and pointed to himself. The Englishman could only stare in disbelief.
"How...?" That was all he managed to get out before a large wave of pain made him fall to his side and gasp.
Alfred immediatly jumped up and did his best to help the Brit. He could only do so much for the pain, so the Englishman would just have to bare with it. The American felt bad for not being able to do much. He could mostly only watch the man suffer.
After a few minutes of the excruciating pain, it subsided, leaving a panting soldier. A throb still lingered, but it was bearable. Shakily, he sat back up, trying to collect his wits.
"That was not a pleasent experience." Arthur stated, with emphasis to the not. Then, thinking back on to the question he was going to ask before, he spoke again. "So, how did you drag me all the way from the battlefield?"
Alfred crawled out of the tent and Arthur followed close behind. When he stood he saw that the boy wasn't infront of him. Looking around he saw him on the otherside of the makeshift tent. Going around, he found Alfred pointing down the hill they were on. It was then that he saw it.
The battlefield was only right down the slope. He hadn't seen this side of the hill so he assumed that they were far from the site. The Yank hadn't brought him as far as he originally thought.
Arthur turned back to the boy and noticed for the first time that he had circles under his eyes. Confused, he asked, "Are you tired?"
Alfred looked back at the man and nodded.
"Why are you so tired?"
The boy pointed at Arthur.
The Brit was taken aback because he was being blamed for the boy's sleeping habits. Then it occured to him that he had taken care of him. "How long have I been unconcious?"
Two fingures rose up from Alfred's hand.
"Two days?"
Again, the American nodded.
The silence from the boy was starting to concern Arthur. He knew that he wasn't mute, because he had heard the boy make certain noises, but no words escaped his lips.
"Alfred," Arthur began, and the boy turned to look at him. "Why won't you talk?"
Eyes grew wide and a tear rolled down his cheek. Turning around quickly, he wiped the drop from his face and tried to calm himself, but to no avail.
Arthur was thrown off as sobs came from the boy. Unsure of what to do, he attempted to comfort him. He reached out his hand and laid it on the small American's back, causing him to jump at the motion, and quickly move away from the touch. It was clear that he didn't fully trust the Briton still.
The Englishman pulled his hand back. He didn't mean to scare the boy. "I'm sorry."
Alfred wiped his eyes and looked back at Arthur. He looked at the Brit with apologetic eyes. Apologizing for his untrusting actions and his inability, or unwillingness, to speak.
"Hey, it's ok," Arthur didn't know how to comfort the boy except through words.
A fresh wave of tears poured from Alfred's eyes. He ran to the Briton and threw his arms around the older man's waist, letting himself cry into his chest.
Arthur wasn't sure what just happened. One second, the boy was trying to get away from him and the next, he was hugging him.
It was then that he realized that, while Alfred might've been untrusting, he also needed someone who he could count on. He was just given his full trust and Arthur had no intention of breaking that trust. He would protect the boy from now on.
111
Someone wanted to know if there was going to be any romance between Arthur and Alfred. No there is not going to be any romance, it is more of a father/son relationship that slowly developes.