.:;World of Gray;:.

CHAPTER 3 - NOTHING AND EVERYTHING

Everything was dark. All Arthur could see was never-ending blackness, but when he reached up to touch his eyes he found that they were wide open. All around him hung an eerie silence and a bitter coldness that ate at his skin. The floor beneath him began moving, churning, and he quickly lost balance and fell. He didn't hit the floor like he expected; it seemed as if it had fallen out from under him. He fell, unmoving, paralyzed with fear. Falling, falling, falling into nothing. He couldn't reach out in hopes of grabbing something, anything, to stop his fall. He couldn't scream. He couldn't even think – his mind was flashing with pictures of Alfred. Alfred smiling, laughing, running, walking, dancing, skipping, talking, crying, eating, sleeping. And then, abruptly, more nothingness.

Alfred was gone.

And so was he.

Arthur awoke with a start. His head was throbbing. The side of his face was sore from sleeping on the cold, hard marble floor, and there was an uncomfortable crick in his neck. He rubbed at it, letting out a rather large yawn, before taking in his unfamiliar surroundings. White, lifeless walls; stiff people in lab coats muttering urgently to one another; countless machines beeping robotically; and cots lined up against one wall. All of the makeshift beds were empty and made neatly, except for one – the one Arthur had been sleeping beside.

Propped up in it was a boy who looked much younger and more vulnerable than he had ever let on. He had messy, golden blonde locks that were faintly tinted red, and his face was ghostly pale. His eyes were closed, though Arthur knew them to be clear blue, brighter than the sky itself. His thin lips were parted ever so slightly; the soft breaths that escaped them matched up with the gentle rise and fall of his chest. He looked peaceful, but at the same time, lifeless. In other words: nothing like the Alfred that Arthur had almost always known and gradually, cautiously grown to love. Not that it meant anything anymore - not after the fight they'd had just the day before. The day before… when Arthur's entire world had been so much different.

Everything was so simple. Pretend to hate Francis (when he was really your best friend), pretend to hate Alfred (when you really didn't know how to feel about him but you knew it wasn't hatred), and be wary of trust and of love. Go to sleep early, wake up early, and brave through the day with a cup of tea in hand and a stiff upper lip. Ignore the nagging feeling in the back of your mind that it wasn't how things were supposed to be; how you wanted them to be.

Surely all of that was over now. Arthur was almost drowning in his own guilt. If only he had made the effort to change things sooner, maybe he could have prevented this. He could have saved Alfred, and he could have saved himself all of this pain... No, he mustn't allow himself to think like that. Things were as they were, and he couldn't go back in time and fix them, even if he'd give his right arm to. All he could do now was take it step-by-step, day-by-day, and pray he didn't lose his mind in the process.

"Excuse me, sir, but… can I get you anything? If you're not feeling up to a trip to the cafeteria, I could bring you some breakfast. On me."

Arthur turned around to face the girl that had been tending to Alfred yesterday, before he had barged in and made a fool of himself. He realized, shocked, that she was the very same girl he had spoken to on the phone. (Well, who had spoken to him, rather.)

"Um, no, thank you. I'm fine for now," he said, hoping he didn't sound too pathetic. The girl raised an eyebrow.

"You don't look fine to me. Want to talk? I'm sure Roderich won't mind if I take a few minutes to try and cheer you up." Her light green eyes sparkled, and Arthur felt thoroughly flattered.

"Well, I probably won't have much to say, but… I do believe I could use the company," he admitted sheepishly. She grinned and sat down on the ground next to him. Arthur was mildly surprised that she didn't bring up chairs for the two of them, but left the matter unspoken, figuring it would be rude after the kindness she'd shown.

"I guess we should start with introductions, huh? My name is Elizabeta Hedervary, but you can call me Eli, if you'd like."

"Um, alright, Eli… my name is Ar-"

"Arthur Kirkland! Oh, I know, I've heard so much about you."

Arthur unsuccessfully tried to hide his astonishment. "You have?"

"Of course! You're close to Francis, who is close to Gilbert, who is… err… an acquaintance of Roderich and I."

"Oh… right… how could I have forgotten?" Arthur said, attempting not to sound sarcastic. Eli smiled.

"You came to see Alfred, then?" she asked suddenly, causing a significant change in the mood. She looked up at the bed with sadness in her eyes, but it was incomparable to that in Arthur's.

"Yes, I suppose I did…"

"Well, I bet he's awfully glad you're here."

Arthur shifted uncomfortably. If only she knew… "Um, do you know how he's doing?"

Eli sighed. "Good, you could say. His injuries look like they'll be healing well, but that won't mean anything if he doesn't wake up soon."

"…What do you mean?"

Eli paused, thinking of the best way to put it without making Arthur feel even worse.

"He's comatose right now, and although that's normal for such a bad head injury, if he doesn't wake up soon then when he does it's likely he'll be in a vegetative state."

Arthur looked down at the floor and blinked back tears. Gentlemen don't cry, especially not in front of ladies.

"But it's still possible that he'll be okay?" he asked hesitantly after a short silence, afraid of the response he would receive.

"It's very much possible," Eli assured him. On second thought, she added, "After such severe brain damage, though, it's likely that he'll have a minor case of amnesia."

Amnesia?

"He won't remember me?" Arthur asked blankly.

Eli looked heartbroken. "No, no, of course he'll remember you! He'll remember lots of things and people that are important to him, you included. He just won't be able to recall specific events, some stuff he learned in school, or small things like addresses, phone numbers, and passwords."

Specific events… It hit Arthur that Alfred might not remember their fight. At first, the thought made him happy, but almost immediately afterwards he was overcome with guilt. Alfred had every right to be mad at him, and he knew it. He just didn't want to face it.

Eli raised an eyebrow and looked at him knowingly. "Is there something you'd like for him to forget?" She smirked. "You two didn't have a fight, did you?"

Arthur sighed and scratched his head. "Yesterday afternoon."

She reached out and touched his hand in a comforting gesture, much to his surprise. "I know it would be easier for you that way, but it'd definitely show a stronger person for you to explain what happened and apologize to him."

Arthur sighed and pulled his hand away. "I know."

There was an awkward silence. Fortunately, Eli wasn't too good at being silent when someone was upset.

"If you do decide to apologize – or heck, even if he remembers on his own – I doubt it could be over anything big enough for either of you to continue to hold a grudge after something like this."

When Arthur thought about it, the fight really did seem petty now that something so much worse had come up. He felt bad for making such a big deal out of it.

"I guess you're right. He's not really one to hold a grudge, anyway."

Eli laughed. "And you are?"

Arthur was still having trouble adjusting to Eli's blunt personality. "I suppose I can be, at times," he grumbled.

"It's not good to hold grudges, you know."

"I'm aware," he replied dryly.

Instead of being offended, she smiled. Arthur wasn't used to someone being so kind to him, but it was nice during such a difficult time.

"I'm sorry for distracting you… you probably have to get back to work, right?" he asked, embarrassed.

"Actually, I'm supposed to be watching Alfred right now." She glanced at him. "And seeing as he's not doing all that much, and we're right next to him anyhow, I don't see how it could hurt to keep talking."

"Oh," said Arthur.

There was another silence, but this time it was less awkward. Instead, it felt almost… comforting.

"So, how did you meet?" Eli asked, unable to stand the quiet any longer. She was a talkative person, Arthur noted.

"What?"

"You and Alfred."

This girl never fails to catch me off guard, Arthur thought.

He couldn't decide whether to tell her the truth or not. After all, he'd only ever recounted that day to himself, and it felt almost personal. Looking into her expectant green eyes, though, he gave way. "He was nine, and I was thirteen. My family had just moved here from London. The Joneses lived across the street, so Alfred thought it would be neighborly – actually, I believe he used the term 'heroic' – of him to bring me homemade cookies. I remember answering the door, looking around for someone, and then looking down and seeing little Alfred standing there with a plate of freshly baked cookies and that same old smile…"

Eli was captivated. She had her head in her hands, and when Arthur trailed off, she urged for him to continue.

"The cookies were good, I admit. I didn't see him much for a while. I was busy with school, after all, and he was four years younger than me."

"And now he's taller!" Eli said, laughing. Arthur blushed.

"Yeah, well… he had a growth spurt. Anyway, about a year later, his parents offered me a job babysitting for them. Alfred seemed like a sweet kid, so I thought hey, why not make some extra money?"

"So you did?"

"I did. It wasn't a very eventful night. He was a bit more hyper than I thought, but eventually we settled down and watched a movie. We fell asleep on the couch together," he remembered fondly, then flushed when he realized he'd said that out loud.

"Aww, that's so adorable!"

"I guess."

"And you guys have been close ever since?"

"Not exactly. I kept babysitting him for about a year, whenever his parents would go out. After the fifth time I stopped taking their money," he said, and laughed. "At eleven, he decided he was too old for me. Ironic, huh?"

"Yeah. So you stopped seeing him?"

"For the most part. He had friends his age, and so did I."

"Francis?"

Arthur rolled his eyes. "That's another story."

Eli laughed. "Wait, so what brought you guys together again?" she asked curiously.

Arthur bit his lip and began distractedly tracing the seam of his pants with his finger. "I went through a hard time. My father died, my brother became an alcoholic, and I started getting bullied at school. That was my, er… punk phase."

"I'm sorry, Arthur… but you? Punk? That's rich."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I was seventeen. What did you expect?"

She laughed again. "And where does Alfred come into the picture, may I ask?"

"Well… he was a bit more mature by then – just a bit, Eli, he was still in seventh grade – and his hero obsession had only gotten bigger. He was outside playing with his dog one evening when I was headed off to a party, and he stopped me to talk. Apparently, I said a few things that worried him, and so I was pronounced his latest damsel in distress."

That had Eli practically rolling around on the floor with laughter. Roderich sent her an unamused look, but she just shook her head and kept giggling.

"Did it work?"

"Did what work?"

"His mission! His heroic deed!" she shouted, flailing her arms.

"I wouldn't say it worked. But it might have helped a bit."

"How? What did he do?"

"You're awfully nosy, aren't you?"

"Tell me!"

Arthur sighed. "He came over a lot. We talked a little. I was pretty annoyed with him, though, so I rarely let him off easily."

"Arthur! He was being nice!"

"He was killing my dignity."

"Nice!"

"Dignity."

"Super nice! Heroic!"

"Maybe in the mutated version of this story that exists in your head."

"Hey, I'm just going by what you're telling me! So how did it help?"

"Well… it didn't, really, until he tried to comfort me after… Francis…"

"Francis?"

Arthur turned bright red to the tips of his ears. "Dumped me."

"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute. Dumped you? You guys were dating? Since when? Wait, you're gay? You're gay! Arthur's gay! I knew it! You're in love with Alfred, aren't you? You are! Hah!"

"Eli."

"Arthur and Alfred, sitting in a tree-"

"Eli."

"K-I-S-S-I-"

"ELI!"

"Sorry, sorry."

Pause.

"I'm not telling you the rest anymore, you know."

Her eyes widened, and she pouted. "What? You're not? Why not?"

"You just killed my dignity."

Eli rolled her eyes. "What is it with you and your dignity?"

"I am a dignified person."

"Maybe in the mutated version of yourself that exists in your head."

"Not funny."

"Hilarious, and you know it. Now spill."

"No."

"Spill."

"No."

"Arthur," she whined.

"Yes?"

"Spill."

"Fine."

"Yes!"

Arthur took a deep breath and tried to think back to where he was in his story. Oh, right – Francis.

"We weren't exactly dating. We were just sort of… well… experimenting, you could say. He was never anything more than a friend. And a perverted friend at that."

Eli wiggled her eyebrows and snorted. Arthur tried not to slap her arm.

"I was still torn up, though. You know how emotional teenagers get."

"Yep, I was one."

"Well, I doubt he actually cared, but Alfred stuck to his promise and tried to be the hero."

"Of course he cared!"

"Maybe. Anyway, he was horribly cheesy, and at first he just made it worse… but I guess I loosened up a bit after he, um… made me cookies."

"Oh my gosh. The same cookies?"

"Well… yeah."

"And?"

"And brought over a movie to watch."

"No. Way. The same movie?"

Arthur nodded. "Spy Kids."

"Oh, that one! It's pretty bad."

"It is."

"But still, that's super romantic!"

It was Arthur's turn to snort. "'Romantic' and 'Alfred' have never been within a mile of each other."

"So after that?"

"My punk phase sort of came to an end, and we got a bit closer."

"Just a bit?"

"Well, okay, he was sort of my best friend."

Eli seemed disappointed. "Just friends?"

"Yes, Eli. Friends. He's not… that way."

"But you do like him?"

Arthur paused. He'd never admitted it out loud before, but… it's not like he had anything to lose. Besides, she already knew this much. She might as well know everything.

"Sort of."

Eli squeeled. Arthur had never actually heard someone squeel before, but he was pretty sure the noise she just made was a squeel.

"You have to tell him!"

"I already told you! He's not gay! It would… it would ruin our friendship!"

"How do you know? Have you asked him? Arthur, he wouldn't have done all that if he didn't like you!"

"No, I haven't asked him, but I know, okay? And yes he would have. It's his personality."

"What did you guys fight over?"

"What?" What brought that up?

"What started your fight? The one yesterday!"

Arthur took a deep breath and ran a hand through his disheveled wheat-blonde hair. "He got a girlfriend, okay?"

For the first time since the conversation had started, Eli went dead silent. Arthur refused to look at her; he was already mortified beyond belief.

"Why did I even tell you all that? I just met you! What's wrong with me?" Arthur said shakily, standing up.

"Arthur…"

"I'm going home to get a shower."

"Arthur…"

"Call me if he wakes up. I'll be back in a couple hours or so."

"Arthur…"

"What?"

"I'm sorry."

Arthur just stared at her for a second. He searched those green eyes, but there was no sign of anything but sincerety. He sighed.

"Me too. But I need some alone time, okay?"

"Okay."

Arthur tilted his head and offered her a weak smile. "Promise to look out for him for me?"

Eli's face brightened and she nodded eagerly. "Promise!"

"Good." His expression softened. "He's in good hands."

Eli stood and brushed off her skirt. "Thank you, sir," she said, and curtsied.

"You're very welcome."

Arthur turned and walked toward the door. He looked over his shoulder one last time and saw Eli bent over Alfred, whispering sweet words of comfort.

Yes, he was definitely in good hands.

The Briton reached for the doorknob and turned it slowly. He pushed open the door and was greeted with cold air. Pulling his coat around him a little tighter, he stepped out of the building, leaving behind Alfred and Eli and entering a world of gray.