The car was silent, yet everything sounded was deafening to Alfred. The atmosphere was thick with tension and madness. They were finally winding down to the last battle. Or so he hoped.
Over the course of the last two weeks, all they have been doing was apprehending criminal after criminal. Crime seemed to surge, as if climaxing towards some horrifying peak. The PSD have never been more in the dark, many units just becoming overwhelmed by the sheer number of cases. You'd have an easier time meeting a murderous scumbag on the streets than an actual citizen. Even under the Heta system's governance anarchy somehow raged wild and untamed.
But there had been a pattern undetected before. One that Arthur had been working tirelessly on. One night Alfred had been called into office along with the rest of his cranky unit only to find that Kiku and Arthur had found something. Sleep quickly forgotten the two genius' of their unit quickly explained their theory.
It seemed that despite all that had been going on, some few places have been untouched by all the madness running amuk. And coincidence or not, one of these places was the HETA Tower, the main broadcasting tower in the country. Like a satellite on land. The tower could send a powerful signal and they feared that all the chaos that had been going on was just a ploy, a distraction, to get into that tower without detection. For what purpose? There were many ideas. Alfred personally believed that they would use the tower the send a powerful signal to block the HETA system's ability to read a person's criminal capacity correctly. Which would spell total destruction for everyone.
Then about an hour ago a stress level spike appeared at the HETA tower. When the security cams had been brought up they saw several men wearing helmets enter the building and quickly dispatching the security guards. At the center of them all a familiar white-blonde man walked casually. A third of the group went to the basement to the archive and a third stayed in the lobby. Bonneyfoy led a group himself up the stairs to the top of the tower.
And anarchy king himself was finally ready to reveal his final hand.
Without hesitation everyone save for Kiku and Feliciano (who would both stay behind and monitor the situation from headquarters) ran for their vehicles and were off at high speed towards the towers.
Which leads us to the car ride in which Alfred sat in nervous tension.
"Calm down Alfie, you're going to wreck the car."
Alfred blinked in surprise and noticed how white his knuckles had been clutching the steering wheel. With an almost sheepish expression he lightened his grip and tried to relax his body. He didn't ease his foot off the gas pedal for the sake of time but he focused on the road more, smoothing out his previous spaztic driving.
He coughed, "Sorry Artie."
Poison green eyes hadn't left his face since they left the PSD headquarters. Alfred supposed the older man worried in his own way about him. After all, the last time they had encountered Francis Alfred had frozen up. The sight of his dead brother refused to leave his head then. Even now, the image threatened to dominate his attention, but he kept it at bay with focusing energy, directed at their current mission.
Arthur took in his partner. He didn't think Alfred knew how innocent he appeared to other people. It was as if someone had stuck a child into a grown man's body. Those bright blue eyes were constantly widening and glowing with every little thing, Alfred didn't look like he could hurt a fly. Some might even call the grown man cute in his mien and actions, of course Arthur would never say that to Alfred's face, if for anything to protect the young man's own pride. No man wanted to hear that they were "cute".
But still… When the incident with Alfred's brother had occurred Arthur had been at a loss. Another thing that he wouldn't admit was that he enjoyed Alfred's company and all the man's childlike antics. It was refreshing to spend time with someone so untainted and pure. And the sheer hopelessness the Brit had felt when Alfred lost Matthew… Arthur felt as if he had lost something as well. The glow that seemed so permanent in the young blonde's eyes seemed to all but disappeared, replaced with something much duller and much more sad. None of it matched the dogmatic boy and Arthur had grieved in his own way for his partner's loss of innocence.
But it had returned. Alfred still came to work everyday. That big goofy smile on and those big shiny blue eyes back. The Brit didn't think he had ever felt more relieved, even if there was an underlying pain and suffering behind those happy smiles.
It was another reason why Arthur wasn't going to stop until he had apprehended Francis Bonnefoy. The man had wronged too many people. He had wronged Alfred. Using his brother as a mere object, something to test Alfred. And when the Inspector had failed this test the Frenchman threw Matthew away like rubbish. For a man who constantly talked about the worth of a human soul, he had very little respect for human life.
"Hey Arthur…"
The Brit turned to his young partner and rose a thick brow. "Yeah?"
Alfred kept his eyes on the road, a steely glint in those sad blue orbs. "I… You are the one person who understands Francis the most. I guess I just want to understand too… But what is the reason why he… why he does all this?"
"To overthrow the HETA system."
"You knew that's not what I mean Artie."
Arthur looked down at the blonde and frowned. He sighed and nodded. "If you want to know something like that. First you must know and understand Bonnefoy's ideals." If you was going to help Alfred understand the art of case filing and finding motives he was going to do this right. No half-assing. "What does Bonnefoy believe in?"
Alfred thought for a moment before answering, "The total annihilation of our current polity?"
Arthur shook his head, "That is his goal. What drives that goal? What is the belief that he is trying to force others into?"
"That… That…" Alfred was at a loss for words.
"Look at it this way," the Brit said. "Francis Bonnefoy is a man who hate everything under the HETA system. Though he seems to have embraced the idea of anarchy, the truth is actually not so clean cut. Francis values autonomy, a sense of self-governance. To him, the idea that the HETA system dominates every aspect of someone's life whether it be what they eat, where they go, what they buy, what job they get, who their life partner is, and so on is the the greatest offence to human prerogative."
Then his poison orbs hardened, "However, do not think for a moment that Bonnefoy is a man of good ideals. That man does not deserve amnesty, not the HETA system, not the government, not the people, and especially not us. For his own offense to human prerogative far outways his own ideals.
Though, Francis Bonneyfoy does sees the Bureaucracy of this nation for what it really is. Just a bunch of decor, with no real use other than to appear pretty and to ease the minds of the general public. Every Investiture is a joke. Delegates appointed to power in America no longer hold any real power. It might seem like they do, but in reality the HETA system also controls every aspect of their lives. Mayoralty is a joke. Even the capital is a joke! What good is a capital when no one does anything other than eat and drink food while they discuss their pointless politics."
Alfred shivered at the barking laughter Arthur released at that last comment. It seemed almost as if the fallen Inspector spoke from his own thoughts, his own mind. But that made no sense, because they were fighting to capture Bonnefoy. Though, the American suspected that this what how you would understand an enemy like Francis. Arthur seemed to have gotten well into the frenchman's head.
"But doesn't he understand the interregnum that would occur if he succeeded?" Alfred asked.
"Of course. He simply doesn't care."
The idea was hard for Alfred to wrap his mind around, how can someone not care about people. Though he supposed that he knew first hand experience how little Francis Bonnefoy could care about human life.
"Alfred, when was the last time you read an annal?"
"Uh…" Alfred frowned. "Well considering I'm having trouble remembering what an annal is, the answer is probably... never?"
Arthur rolled his eyes, "Annals are historical records, often they are narratives. I wanted to know if you have read anything in lately about Russia. I know in recent years they probably don't even teach about the Soviets in school do they? It's their way of keeping ideas of government-discontent out of people from a young age."
"I know about the Soviet Union," Alfred replied. "I believe I was one of the last classes to learn about them before they took it out of the curricular."
"Insane, not to teach children that. Especially with all the important history…" Arthur sighed. "Anyways, I wasn't trying to make a specific point about the Soviet Union. I wanted to bring your attention back to when Russia was still made of feudal estates. Each fief would have a lord or baron taking care of it, and the people that belonged to that state. They were bound to loyalty, each serf had liege to their Lord and to their land. Every family would hang a cloth with their master's escutcheon on it. During this time however, there was a practice to kill any child born different than normal."
Alfred looked at him in horror, "That's horrible!"
"Maybe so," Arthur nodded agreeing. "But to them it was necessary. A child born different would feel discontent in their environment. Perhaps they would be useless and feel as such or they would feel isolated and separated from their kin. Anyways, a Lord or Baron would do well to avoid such discontent, because discontent has a nasty habit of spreading. It was just their way of nipping a problem in the bud. They didn't need an uprising against them.
And Bonnefoy's situation is much the same." Arthur continued. "He was born with an ever white criminal hue. Nothing he'll ever do will change that color and so already he is isolated from everyone else. You wanted to know why Bonnefoy does what he does? Well, this is probably why. Can you imagine it? A little boy getting praised for something he has no control over? He is confused and tests it out, only to find that no matter what he does, stealing Mom's jewelry, taking Dad's money, hurting the kids in his neighborhood, nothing changes. On top of that, he is put on a pedestal at a young age because of his extraordinary hue. That kind of stress on a child isn't healthy. He was probably a very lonely little boy.
As he grows he realizes he can get away with anything. People often bring up the question of whether sociopaths are born or shaped. It's a hard question to answer and I doubt any of us will ever get a clear answer. But Francis Bonnefoy is most definitely a sociopath. He may have the right idea of how messed up the government is, but he is also a sociopath that enjoys pain and violence to fill an empty void within him. If he had been born differently, or shaped differently, who knows, then maybe he would still be fighting for the same cause but in a different way."
The pair saw the tower appear in the distance.
"But he didn't," Alfred finished for Arthur. "He choose this path of horror and destruction."
Arthur nodded, "Which is why. No matter how right he is, Francis Bonnefoy will always be wrong. And why we will always work tirelessly to stop him."
And for some reason, Alfred's shaky grip relaxed.
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