Down the Rabbit Hole

Chapter 23! Oh man, I am so sorry this took forever to come out. Freshers just swallowed up all my time, and I've just purchased Stardrew valley on my Switch, and I've been reliving that sweet, sweet Harvest Moon nostalgia.

I would like to send out hugs and kisses to everyone who reviewed last chapter. Some actually made me tear up, and it makes me so thankful for your feedback. Some readers have questioned how this fic is not more popular, but honestly, just reading your reviews-specially whose of you who review regularly- makes me realise that I don't have to have a huge audience if I've got a nice, small, lovely one.

You guys make me want to continue writing for this fandom, and I cannot be more grateful to you xxx

Just to clear up some questions that some reviewers raised: In the last chapter, when Arthur was bitten by Vlad, it was Alfred who pulled the vampire off him, and North that used his ice magic to soothe Arthur's wounds. Bearing in mind, both heroes know Arthur's true identity, so either one could of cried out to him, but I'd probably lean more to it being North. I imagine that Alfred was too enraged to think about anything else than getting Vlad away from Arthur.

And now...the moment everyone has been waiting for this the beginning. The big reveal.

Let

Us

Go!

Spades District, 221 Baker's Street, The Kirkland Residence

Just as Allistor had promised it would be, Alfred found the Kirkland's penthouse empty when he pushed open the front door. Arthur, held bridal style in his arms, had taken the Britannia gas mask off the moment they'd stepped into the building's lobby, and his head was jostled in it's nestled spot on Alfred's shoulder as he carried him up the stairs and into his bedroom. The apartment was in near complete darkness, illuminated only by the soft, pulsing neon lights of the city a world away.

'You know that you don't have to go this far.' Arthur muttered as Alfred gently eased him onto his queen sized bed, ignoring the dismissive shooing motions when he began to unlace the man's boots.

'You almost died Arthur.' Alfred disagreed, still unable to look at the rapidly fading bite mark gracing Arthur's neck; the memory of his weakening pulse beneath his fingers still too sharp.

Arthur's hand darted and grasped around Alfred's wrist when he went to move back. 'But I didn't, thanks to you. Thank you, Columbia.'

'I should of been faster,' Alfred shied away, his throat tight to make his words raspy. 'I should of realised what was wrong sooner.'

Arthur squeezed his hand. 'You were fast enough to save me. Isn't that what matters at the end of the day?'

Alfred gulped, staring at their intertwined fingers, charged on the electricity of the contact. He wanted this. Good god, he wanted this, but Alfred knew he'd have to pay the price. He stood to lose or gain everything, but he knew that. He knew it was worth the risk.

Arthur had almost died. Alfred had almost lost him forever, without telling him how much he loved him…He would never let that happen again.

'Arthur, I want to tell you something and— I know it's something you're not gonna like.'

Arthur looked at him, beautiful, big eyes so very, very green. 'There's more you have to tell me? I thought we'd given up on secrets.' He said with a half-hearted laugh.

Alfred's squirming stomach knotted itself, and he removed his hand from Arthur's. 'I— I'm going to take off my mask,' Arthur's expression immediately contorted, 'I want you to know who I really am.'

'What? No. I don't want to— Columbia, please.' Arthur paled as he frantically scrambled back on the bed, hitting the headboard with the desperation of a cornered animal.

'Arthur, please—' Alfred crawled onto the bed, the mattress sinking beneath his weight, and reached out for him.

'No! No, no don't. Please.' Arthur shrilled, lashing out a hand to ward him back, keep him away. He was trembling so violently, and it pained Alfred to know he was the cause of it.

'Arthur,' Alfred caught Arthur's flailing wrists, the blond screwing his eyes shut and hanging his head, keeping his chin tucked so his bangs hid his face. Alfred transferred both wrists into one hand, freeing the other to take off his goggles, and pressed them into Arthur's shaking hands, making him freeze. Gently, Alfred took Arthur's hands and placed them on either side of his face; the Brit's touch making the blood in his cheeks boil.

'Look at me.'

'No,' Arthur whined, shaking his head. 'No Columbia, please. I can't— I can't.'

'Arthur, look at me.'

Each second drew out into an eternity, twin wet trails streaking down his cheeks, as Arthur statically forced himself to meet Alfred's stare, and crumpled.

'I didn't— I didn't want to believe…' Arthur choked, his shoulders caved in on themselves as Alfred blinked in shock.

'You knew?'

Arthur dropped his head, hands sliding down to yank on Alfred's suit, continuing to shake his head as his eyes closed. 'Why? Why couldn't you just—'

'Arthur—'

'YOU SELFISH FUCKING PRICK!,' He screeched, Alfred recoiling as though he had been struck. He would of honesty preferred that; it would of hurt less. 'You knew, you knew what you mean't—WHY?! Why did you have to tell me?'

'I'm done with keeping secrets from you, Arthur. It might be selfish, but I'm tired of hiding.'

'I wanted it to be someone else, anyone else. Anyone else but you,' Arthur wept, all tension suddenly drained from him, causing him to slump forward against Alfred's chest; the American's arms instinctively sliding to wrap around him. 'Why did it have to be you?'

Alfred tightened his hold, listening to Arthur's heartbeat race, his tears soaking into his shoulder.

'Do you hate me now?' He croaked around the lump in his throat, and felt Arthur stiffen for several seconds before he tightened his grip on Alfred's suit.

'No. I don't hate you,' Arthur muttered and pulled back to cradle Alfred's jaw between his hands, his shimmering eyes tracing over Alfred's features. 'How could I?'

'So, what you said the morning after the night we went to Jasmine Dragon, that's still true?'

'I am in love with him.'

'He's my sun.'

Alfred's stomach flipped when Arthur's cheeks flushed a pretty cherry red and his lips took a slight pout as he turned his head aside.

'Well—that's…' The Brit stammered.

'Glad to know the feelings mutual.' Alfred chuckled as he nudged his nose against Arthur's, breathing in his familiar scent that soothed him; smelling of home. Arthur leaned into the touch, an eskimo kiss before he pressed their foreheads together, their hot breaths intermingling and warming their upper lips.

'I wanted to keep you out of all this,' Arthur sighed. 'I thought distance would keep you safe.'

'You're forgetting that I was already on the streets, punching bad guys as Columbia months before you met Alfred.' Alfred reminded and Arthur shivered.

'I honestly don't know if that makes me feel better or worse.' He returned with a small laugh before he trailed his hand down to rest above Alfred's heart. 'Thinking about you green isn't very reassuring.'

'Hey! I was decent at it!'

'Hardly. You were all over the place from the moment I first laid eyes on you!' Arthur scoffed and squealed when Alfred pounced and flipped him around to bounce on the mattress before he crawled over him on all fours.

'Oh yeah? Wanna know what I thought when I first saw you in costume?' Alfred smirked, 'I thought that the posters and cameras couldn't come close to doing that fine ass justice.'

'You!' Arthur gasped, before a mischievous glint took his eye and he twisted his hips so that he was straddling Alfred; the latter feeling a rush of heat envelope him with the rough friction against each other's crotches.

A beat passed between them as they gazed at each other. Wordlessly, they leant in and connected as one. A breathy groan rose up in Alfred's throat as Arthur's hands slid from around his wrists up into his hair, tilting his head back to deepen the kiss.

Arthur's lips were soft, yet, held an undeniable desperate edge that stole Alfred's breath away, making his heart race and thunder. They moved and moulded against each other in tandem, harmony, both seeking, wanting and needing more and more; losing themselves in the other.

They broke apart with a gasp, chests heaving and lungs panting.

'That,' Alfred gulped thickly. 'Should of been our first kiss.'

'I'll second that.' Arthur breathed, emerald greens half-lidded and cheeks flush.

'Arthur?' Alfred pushed back the Brit's hanging golden bangs.

'Hm?'

'Could I…could I stay tonight?'

The ruby red of Arthur's cheeks rose up to colour his entire face, steam practically whistling out of his ears as he squirmed on top of Alfred; the action testing the American's will not to release a groan of pleasure.

'That's—I—Yes. Yes, I'd like that very much.' He blushed before he straightened up, long legs shifting either side of Alfred's hips, and stripped off the upper part of the Britannia suit.

Alfred's jaw fell open; the sight and implication at what he was seeing causing his thoughts to short circuit.

Arthur.

Britannia.

In bed.

With him.

Topless.

'Alfred, you're staring.' Arthur's words cut him back into the hot room, a thick brow raised dubiously.

Alfred shook his head. How was Arthur not aware what a total knock out he was? 'You're just—so beautiful. I can't believe that I finally get to hold you like this.'

Arthur's smile was radiant, and Alfred knew he'd be happy to worship it everyday for the rest of his life. Everything he'd been through, all the pain and confusion and lies, he'd do it all again if Arthur would bless him with another of those smiles.

'I can scarcely believe it myself. I keep thinking I'll wake up at any moment. That at any moment, everything will shift, and I'll be back in one of my nightmares with Hatter.'

'Hey,' Alfred tenderly gripped Arthur by the hips and rolled over so that he was on top, hovering and hyperaware of the nakedness of Arthur's torso; the sheer droplets of sweat that collected along his collarbone. The cream of his skin, the gold of his hair, and the deep green of his eyes; Arthur, laid spread out amongst the cotton sheets, was an old renaissance master's crown jewel, so heavenly that it must of been inspired right out of a biblical verse.

'You're right here, with me. Hatter and the nightmares can't get you. You're safe, you're safe and I promise to do everything in my power to keep you that way.'

The corners of Arthur's eyes crinkled, tears balancing on the edge. 'Alfred F. Jones, you are an sentimental, idealistic, overly optimistic, daft duck, you know that?'

'I do. But I'm your daft duck.' Alfred smiled, before a yelp escaped him with Arthur wrapping his arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss so fierce that Alfred swore his soul temporarily left his body.

'Either you take off this bloody suit right now, or I tear it off.' Arthur hissed around the kiss, fingers twisting and tugging at Alfred's hair to clutch him closer.

'You—You want to? You mean it?' Alfred's voice squeaked, embarrassingly high-pitched, and Arthur pinned him with a later focused look.

'Did I stutter?'

Alfred grinned, and whipped off the top of his suit 'No, sir.'

…

Each thrust of their hips was the crescent wave crashing against the white cliffs of Dover; the soul-reverberating chime of fat bellied church bells; the smith's iron hammer against the white hot anvil. The air was thick, moist with the heavy musk of sweat and arousal; the groans, and moans, and grunts of the two lovers becoming one. Fine hairs stood on end. Goosebumps riddled their sweat-slick, flushed skin. Cries resounded in the night, cries for more, for more.

Making love to Arthur was a testified religion in of itself, and Alfred threw himself before the marble altar, mind, body and spirit. Each one of Arthur's cries as he entered him, a line of the Lord's hymn. Each scream for Alfred to go faster, harder, an Angel's chorus. The choir sang Hallelujah, and Alfred rejoiced with them; at last able to embrace the man, and the angel, he had devoted his heart to.

Alfred's breaths came out as pants, quick, shallow, laboured, as he rocked his hips into Arthur; rolling, climbing, and building for the tumble that would send them both over the edge.

'Alfred—Urgh!' Arthur mewled beneath him, his blond bangs plastered to his forehead with sweat, his eyes screwed shut. Hot and shining, and red all over. Wiped. Breath-taking.

'Alfred I'm close!'

Alfred could of said the same from the way Arthur's insides clamped around him, tighter and tighter with every fevered thrust.

'I got you.' Alfred grunted, and Arthur screamed when he wrapped his hand around his cock, and began to messily pump at a hard tempo. Pushing, pressing, riding hard for their climax.

Neither man lasted long after that, coming explosively with the other's name on their swollen lips. Alfred allowed himself to bask in the orgasmic, rosy after-glow a second longer, nuzzling his forehead against Arthur's before he unsheathed himself and stumbled off the bed into the en suite. After tying off and flushing the condom, washing his hands and splashing his face with cold water, Alfred slipped back between the warm sheets; pressing a chaste kiss on Arthur's cheek as he wrapped his arms around him. The Brit gave a content, blissed out moan as he rolled into the cuddle and pulled Alfred down into a long, lazy smooch.

'I love you.' Alfred hummed when they parted, his lips still tingling as he moved and began to trace the constellations of marks and love bites he had left along Arthur's collarbone and neck.

Arthur gripped the trailing fingers and brought them to his lips, locking his gaze with Alfred's, sage green, depthless eyes drawing him in. 'And I you.' He whispered, his lids growing heavy like Alfred's as fatigue finally caught up on them, deepening their breaths as they fell asleep in each other's arms.

Like sleeping beauty, Arthur woke up from his sleep to a kiss. He blinked slowly as his vision focused on Alfred's smiling face; his smile as radiant as the sun beams that streamed through the bedroom windows, and eyes bluer that the sky they came from.

Last night…felt like a dream. Alfred outing himself as Columbia, them sleeping together, declaring their love. It all felt too much, too much to all happen in one night at least. Perhaps it shouldn't of happened that way. In an ideal world, it would of been slower, smoother. The declaration, Alfred's revelation, it would of been organic, simpler.

But he and Alfred didn't live in that world. Live fast, die young; that was the motto. The world was harsh and messy, and it demanded their time. They couldn't afford the luxury of slowly falling in love, the lives they led wouldn't allow it. They had to grab what they could, and cling onto it for dear life; just as a famous pirate said: take it all, give nothing back.

Alfred had known that if he hadn't told Arthur, he might've never had the chance again. He had seen the opportunity, calculated the risk, and took it. And for all the trouble and all the tears, the moments when Arthur feared his heart would explode in his chest, he was thankful for Alfred's gambit and recklessness.

Everything was different now. Arthur lived an impossible life, one darkened by old, long shadows and the beasts that in them. His past was a riddled disaster, his future— well, Arthur honestly considered it a working miracle that he'd made it into his twenties. He was dangerous, his life was dangerous, and now Alfred shared it with him.

He—

'Hey,' Alfred cut off his downward spiralling thoughts with a soft smile, so sweet that it wiped Arthur's mind clean. 'How did you sleep? Any nightmares?'

Arthur shifted, causing the warm sheets to slide off so that they barely covered his modesty. 'No. No nightmares.'

'That's because you had your snuggly teddybear with you.' Alfred returned, and Arthur wrinkled his nose in good humour.

'I'm not sure I want to associate what we did last night to the image of a teddybear. I'd like to keep the fond memories of my childhood rabbit just as that, thank you.'

Alfred's mouth opened to quip back, when his gaze dropped to his naked hips and his brows shot up. 'Wo-Woah.'

Arthur's own thick brows drew together before he followed Alfred's ogling stare down, and squawked.

'You gave me bloody bruises!' He shrieked as he shot up right, raking and pulling at the darkened twin imprints—in the quite distinct shape of hands, mind—on either side of his hips.

What the?!

Alfred's eyes remained as large as saucepans as he continued to unapologetically stare. 'Would it be wrong to say that I think it's kinda hot?'

'Alfred!'

'What? We all have kinks. You loved it to last night.' Alfred countered, and Arthur folded his arms across his chest and turned his nose up. He was already beginning to dread the full body examination that would come with getting a shower.

'I don't know what you're talking about.'

'"Alfred! Harder! Hard—".' Arthur slapped his hand over the grinning American's mouth with a dark look.

'Not. Another. Word.' He growled and cried out in disgust, reflexively recoiling when Alfred licked his palm.

'You know you love me.' Alfred smirked, giddy with cockiness as Arthur swiped his hand on him.

'Hm. I'm starting to re-consider. Perhaps breakfast would prolong the judgement?'

Alfred gave a short laugh before he leant in for a peck on lips and climbed out of bed; Arthur appreciative of the view as the sheets fell away to expose his nakedness; specifically that of his incredibly broad, muscular back and the hard sculpted lines of his abdomen.

'You got bacon and eggs?' He asked and strode over to the hook where Arthur hung his black dressing gown.

'Second and third shelf from the top. I like mine without the fat.' Arthur smiled as he pulled it on and grabbed the door handle.

'Just for you then, gorgeous.' Alfred winked before he left. Arthur breathed in a deep, cleansing breath, one hand running through his awful bed hair to catch on the knots that he knew he'd have fun untangling in the shower as he looked out the window to the new day.

It was a good morning.

'Without the fat, and scrambled eggs on toast with some cute-baby tomatoes I found.' Alfred beamed when Arthur reached the bottom of the stairs, pulling on his baggy 'The Police' band t-shirt over his wet hair and Doctor Who boxers.

'Cheers love.' He thanked as he took a seat on the sofa and accepted the steaming breakfast plate off him before he reached for the television remote. Alfred took a seat next to him, blowing loudly on his sunny-side eggs whilst Arthur tapped the power button.

'Yes Caroline, after the sneak preview event, Terra cannot be more excited for it's founding festival tomorrow. With this year's theme 'Alice in Wonderland' and invigorated enthusiasm and increased budget from the city council, the festival is sure to be one to remember,' The pretty news anchor presented inside a warehouse, packed with the other festival floats that would be unveiled the next day.

'And now, over to Brian updates on the latest police investigation of the missing neuroscientists.'

Arthur tapped the volume button until it was a low murmur before he swallowed his bacon and scrapped the last of his eggs into his mouth. 'With any luck, they'll be back in their beds by tomorrow morning.'

Alfred's face was priceless when Arthur released the plate and bled to send it zooming into the kitchen sink. Increasing the flow of his magic, Arthur snapped his fingers to imitate the Sorcerer's apprentice, and had the dirtied frying pan and plates begin washing themselves up, fairy liquid and sponge dancing as they worked.

Arthur focused, and summoned his spell book with a flash of light and flick of his wrist. The large tome hovered level to his chest, it's pages fluttering and flapping with an almost joy.

'Get outta here!' Alfred howled, his half eaten plate forgotten as he crawled over to gape the book. Arthur gave an amused eye roll before he made a beckoning motion and felt the pull as one of the hidden chests downstairs in the dojo came free from the shelf and zoomed up the stairs into his waiting hands.

Ignoring the curious nosies being made by Alfred, Arthur unlocked the lock with a tap and opened the lid to reveal one of his most impressive variations of the Britannia suit: The Valkyrie, a suit that Arthur had poured hours upon hours into charming it to the nines. It was similar to his usual suit, only streamlined and completely black for stealth purposes, with many holsters for various weapons, and a gas mask with green lens that lit up. Arthur ran his fingers over the coarse fabric, reading the invisible lines of spells he had woven into it; enchantments of speed, durability, lightness for high jumps and so on.

As he worked, in the corner of his eye, Alfred pawed at his spell book like a playful puppy. He plucked it out the air and rifled through the pages before he suddenly gasped at whatever he saw. A upward glance and the golden bookmark told Arthur that he'd come to his weapon index.

'You have other weapons than Excalibur?!' Alfred exclaimed and and swivelled the book around to show Arthur the chapter, making the Brit chuckle. Because, of course, it wasn't as though he'd seen it countless times before.

'Yes. That's Fail-not, a bow of Tristan from Arthurian legend that never misses,' Arthur pointed to the illustration of said long bow, a block of runic text below it. He flipped to the next chapter. 'And that's Ascalon, the spear that St George used to kill the dragon.'

'Why does it say Saxony here? Isn't that Allistor's codename?' Alfred asked, peering at the spear, and Arthur scratched his nose.

'It's a little more complicated than that. Saxony is a persona, the wearer of the Green Armour, which is set of magical armour that protects the wearer from physical injuries, and the wielder of Ascalon together. With the armour's invincibility, and the spear's power, it makes for a terrifying combo.'

'So, Allistor ran around as some super powered knight in shining armour? That's awesome. Could, uh—anyone wear the Green Armour?'

'No. You have to be compatible with both weapons, and so far, the only one has displayed the aptitude for it has been Allistor,' Arthur explained and nudged Alfred with his elbow. 'Sorry to disappoint, love. Even if you were compatible, I doubt your Lucid immunity would allow it.'

'Aw. Invincible armour would of been rad,' Alfred pouted as he took the book back. 'Stupid Lucid immunity.'

'It rather a double-edged sword isn't it? You're practically untouchable to Lucid individuals, but it also means that I am completely powerless to heal you should you get injured.' Arthur sighed.

'Nah, you've got nothing to worry about,' Alfred hummed, and frowned when he turned to the next page. '"The Vorpal Blade"?'

'What?!' Arthur shrieked and yanked the book back.

The page he looked at was entirely black, save for the calligraphed white title words 'The Vorpal Blade', and a printed passage of neat text beneath it.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves

Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:

All mimsy were the borogoves,

And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!

The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!

Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun

The frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand;

Long time the manxome foe he sought—

So rested he by the Tumtum tree

And stood awhile in thought.

And, as in uffish thought he stood,

The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,

Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,

And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! And through and through

The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!

He left it dead, and with its head

He went galumphing back.

"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?

Come to my arms, my beamish boy!

O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"

He chortled in his joy.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves

Did gyre and gimble in the wabe:

All mimsy were the borogoves,

And the mome raths outgrabe.

'What the hell?,' Alfred remarked, reading over Arthur's shoulder. '"Brillig"? "Galumphing"? This poem is bogus, half these words don't make sense!'

'I know this poem,' Arthur muttered around chewing his thumbnail, staring hard at the lines and raked his memory for their original source, only to have the answer evade him. 'Though I couldn't say where from.'

Alfred looked at him as though he'd lost his mind (and to be truthful, there were times when Arthur doubted he hadn't already) 'Dude, seriously? This reads like it was written by someone cray-cray. I mean, like, what kind of monster is a "Jabberwocky"?'

'One that only the Vorpal Blade can slay apparently. I believe the better question here, is why this is even in my spell book. Entries are usually only added when I master a spell, summon or technique. I've never had an entry I wasn't aware of before.'

'Dunno. It's in your weapons section, so maybe you're gonna get a cool new weapon like Excalibur!' Alfred grinned, though Arthur felt he couldn't mirror the man's excitement. Something about the black page didn't feel right to him, unnerving even. It was the only colour inverted page in his spell book, a dark chapter in his story. Whatever this 'Vorpal Blade' had in store for him, Arthur felt it couldn't be pleasant.

'Maybe,' He offered for Alfred's benefit and shut the book. 'Regardless, such speculation has no relevance to our mission, so it's no good to dwell on it now.'

'You're writing it off?' Alfred questioned with a raised brow. 'Arthur, this could be huge. Another freakin' Excalibur!'

'I'm being efficient. I don't have time to waste experimenting with theoretical magic that I "might" be able to use. Columbia, Gaul and Britannia raid Spades' Cardverse club tonight. This may be our last chance to find out where Wang is keeping the missing neuroscientists. We cannot afford even the slightest distraction.'

Alfred shook his head before he combed his hair through his hair. 'I mean, yeah, but—'

'But nothing, Alfred. End of discussion. Now I suggest you go put some clothes on before either of our brothers walk through the front door. They're not going to give us the morning and afternoon to ourselves, and I highly doubt that they will appreciate your nudity.'

'Shut up, everyone knows I have a hunky-licious bod.' Alfred stuck his tongue out as he heaved himself off the sofa and made for the stairs. Arthur watched him go.

'Myself more than anyone I'm sure, love.' Arthur chuckled at the wink that Alfred threw back his way as he climbed the stairs. The Brit held the smile a second longer before he huffed and turned his attention back to checking over the Valkyrie suit for frays in the spell lining.

He couldn't afford the slightest distraction. Everything had to be perfect for tonight.

Preparations for the Spades' raid went long into the late evening. Everyone was gathered in the front room, checking, preparing and gearing up for the long night. Matthew was sat with Dylan, pouring over the nightclubs blueprints and calibrating the suit UI systems. Arthur, with Seamus' assistance, was already suited up in his Valkyrie suit, of which was outfitted for too many weapons for Alfred's liking; belts of throwing knives, smoke and flash grenades, and a thin string of mystic charms and talismans hung from his utility belt.

Alfred's gut curled as he watched Arthur holster a black steel latin machete on his back, and jumped when Allistor came over to stand with him, leaning casually on the kitchen countertop.

'I don't know if you've realised, but he's not taking all those knives to cut any cakes.' The Scot muttered low enough for only Alfred to hear.

'He wouldn't kill anyone though, would he?' Alfred asked, gnawing on his lower lip as he saw Arthur select a semi-automatic pistol from one of the surrounding weapons crates, slide the chamber back to check the bullet, and holster it and an extra magazine on his hip.

Allistor crossed his arms. 'If it comes between you and one of Wang's yakuza—even Wang himself, do you really think there's a question of who he'd prioritise?'

Alfred couldn't suppress the shiver that ran down his spine. 'I just, don't wanna see him turn into something he's not.'

'You got two choices then, lad. Do something about it, or don't look.'

'Gee, great advise.' Alfred scoffed, and Allistor shrugged.

'Take it or leave it. Like I said, it's your choice.'

Alfred gave a curt nod and waited for Allistor to move on before he strolled over and dropped himself down beside Matthew, who glanced over from typing on his keyboard.

'Hey.'

'Hey. Eh, for someone who finally got laid with the guy he's been pining for for months, you don't look very happy.' Matthew pointed out, and Alfred sighed.

'That obvious, huh?'

'When Allistor said you wanted the apartment to yourselves, we figured that you two were either going to work it out and fuck, or fight. Considering the place is still in one piece, I figured it was the former,' Matthew's smirk flickered out when he saw that his brother's sullen expression didn't change.

'Come on. Talk to me Al.'

'The mission, the Guardians, Arthur. It's just piling up, y'know? Not that long ago, failing Bonnefoy's class was my highest priority.'

Matthew winced. 'Yeah, you clearly haven't been checking your emails. Bonnefoy's been trying to contact you for days. Says that you are *this* close to being kicked off the course.'

'Goddammit,' Alfred groaned with a hang of his head. 'What's a guy gotta do to catch a break round here?'

'I would offer to go to lectures as you, but unfortunately, Bonnefoy's one of the few that can actually tell us apart. You're just going to have to get on your knees after this is all over, and beg for another chance.'

'Bye bye dignity, I guess…Unless, I ask Germania to pull some strings.' Alfred impishly grinned, his smile only growing at the horrified look on his brother's face.

'Alfred no.'

'Alfred yes!'

From his distance, Arthur watched as Matthew cuffed Alfred over the back of the head and the two of them dissolved into a fit of laughter and play-wrestling. His attention was stolen from gazing that the light reflecting off Alfred's perfect teeth by Seamus thrusting his tactical combat knife at him.

'My brother from another mother, you look ready to carve some fools the fuck up.' Seamus approved with a up and down once over of his weaponised appearance.

Arthur nodded as he took the knife and slid it into it's sheathe strapped on his lower back. 'That's the idea.'

'What're you gonna do when you get to Wang?'

'Whatever I have to to get the neuroscientists' location, and after that? Well…let me just say that I haven't forgotten the Jasmine Dragon and what Wang's goon did to Alfred.' Arthur answered darkly, pulling on his gloves and fastening them tight.

'Hopefully, whatever Gaul wants from Wang won't interfere much.' Seamus mused and Arthur frowned as he swiped away an imaginary speck of lint on the back of his gloves.

'Yes, consider me curious about that as well.' He muttered before he looked over to where Matthew had Alfred wrapped between his thighs, pulling his hair and slapping him silly. Five years olds. He was in love with a five year old.

'Alfred! Come on! Stop faffing about and suit up. We have work to do!'

And there you have it. Arthur and Alfred, together at last.

This chapter was refreshing to write. It was the climax of the largest conflict in the fic, and hopefully, it was a satisfying one. It's the end of an arch, but we still have the conflict of Hatter and Wang hovering to keep the tension going.

I had a huge debate with myself on how to write the sex scene. I was curious to try my hand at smut-styled writing, but when I began to write it, it didn't fit the tone of the chapter. This fic leans toward the action-adventure-thriller genre, and a overly graphic sex scene would of felt misplaced in it. I felt that keeping the scene emotional and fluffy was the way to go, and matched Arthur's and Alfred's love. I hope it wasn't too cringe worthy to read XD

This chapter consisted of two parts really: Arthur and Alfred's night and morning, that is domestic and romantic and happy, and the evening, that took a darker turn, and is meant to leave a slightly better taste in reader's mouth. Arthur's passage about talking about the world reflects this. In an ideal world, Arthur and Alfred would lavish in long hours of each other's company, kissing and loving each other. But they aren't in that world, and they have a job to do, despite of their earth-shattering development.

While we've had this brilliant spark of romance, we and Arthur are by no means out of the water. His mind, well-it is still decaying, it's still not getting any better. Alfred does help, he brings out the best in Arthur and inspires positivity in his life, but it's only a substitute. Arthur's sanity is a very real problem, and it is deeply ingrained in his psyche. It's not leaving any time soon until Arthur can dig down to the root of the problem and correct it, which may be harder than any of us realise.

Of course, the Vorpal Blade poem is actually named, 'The Jabberwocky' by Lewis Carroll, I do not claim to have written, not possess the rights to it.

Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. If you are liking this fic, please consider to take the time to leave a review telling me your thoughts, opinions and questions. Once again, thank you for reading and as always,

Until next time folks!