Oliver Kirkland and the Cake Factory
Chapter Five
A 2P "Hetalia" Fanfiction
It had been too long. Al had searched everywhere he could for that bastard Oliver's house. His luck was terrible, he confronted Oliver's little brother, Petar, a couple times and both times Petar led him in the wrong direction. Was Max ok? Al had no idea.
Al sat outside his house, plopping himself on the grass. He looked up, staring at the sky and trying to figure out a plan. He decided to wait for a while. He knew the shop Oliver normally bought supplies at. Al would spy on him and follow him, then see where he went. Wherever Oliver was must be where Max was.
"Hey, Oliver!" Al grinned. He stood across the counter as Oliver stacked more bright pink cupcakes into the display shelf. The store had eccentric foods organized in every possible area. Oliver just smiled at his guest.
Al normally stopped by to help out, that and Oliver made an amazing cake. "Are you going to do the dishes for me today?"
A groan was heard as Al scowled at the notion "You know I'd rather help with the decorating!" he brushed his auburn hair from his eyes and pouted as Oliver smirked. "Fuck" Al sighed.
Oliver raised his hand and pointed to a jar on the counter "That'll be two dollars." Al groaned and shoved two one dollar bills in the container.
Just thinking about close he used to be to Oliver pissed him off. Al grumbled some cusses and began walking to the store. It was midday, birds chirping and sun high. "I can't give a fuck about that creep." Al groaned. He knew he couldn't, after all, Oliver had him sick for four horrible months. The ammonia poisoning had almost killed him. Al shook his head, trying to erase every pleasant memory.
It had been two days since the event. Al thought he would be ok but he was wrong. He was keeled over in bed, holding tightly onto his stomach which was burning with intense pain. Al could feel his lips swollen and the burns down his mouth and throat. He tried to open his eyes and look around but his vision was beginning to fail him.
"Al!" until Al heard the call he thought he was dying. It was Max. Max had come over to ask Al if he wanted to play a round of hockey with Alexander. He never expected to find Al like this. "Al what the fuck happened to you!? Y-your lips are blue!" Max couldn't tell at first what his brother had. He ran to the bedside and put his hands on Al's shoulders.
The last thing Al saw before his vision failed completely was a blurry outline of Max's face. "O-oli-" his voice was dry and the burns in his throat didn't allow his voice to pass.
It took some time before Al was well enough to talk and see again. Max was over every day to care for him. Eventually Max heard the full story. He always knew Oliver was a little nutty so the events didn't surprise him. Al wasn't much better, though seeing his brother in that state almost made him hate Oliver Kirkland.
Al recalled that Max would cringe a little every time Oliver was mentioned in conversation. However even though Max carried a cold shield he was easy to see the suffering in others and easy to care for them. Oliver was a manipulative bastard and Al knew it. It wouldn't be surprising if Oliver acted in a way to make Max show compassion, and did it on purpose for the later ideal of harming Max in some way. At least the idea made sense in Al's head.
At one point Al believed that Oliver simply had those moments of insanity where he lost control of himself. While that could have still held true, Al's hate clogged his mind and made it harder to believe. He wanted to believe that Oliver made intricate plans just so that he could hate the short bastard all the more.
Max had better be safe. Or else Al would commit murder.
The puck smashed into the net as it slid past Al so easily. "You have to guard better, Al!" Max shouted from farther away on the rink as he skated over to his brother. "It's too easy to beat you!" Max snickered.
"Oh yeah! Let's see you play a fucking decent game of baseball!" Al sneered, knowing that was one of Max's weak points.
Max just laughed "Sorry if I prefer contact sports where I gear up, and not wear tight pants just to run around in circles."
"Fuck you!" Al joined in laughing. The two then went on to play another game.
Al sighed. He wanted his brother back, he wanted those times back. If Oliver hurt Max and they could never have that again then Al didn't know what he would do with his life. He supposed most people move on from loss, but was it even worth it sometimes.
The thought just made him all the more determined to track Max down. Al looked up and saw that he had made it to the store. He walked in and began to travel down the aisles as inconspicuously as possible.
It didn't take as long as Al thought it would to spot someone in a bright pink vest. As he assumed it was Oliver. Al frowned, restraining the urge to attack him then and there. Al put his hood up and followed Oliver in the shadows, not being seen and stalking who he knew was his brother's captor. After the semi-long walk Al was led to a cake factory, though this was different. Al remembered an older one, one that had been shut down for a while. This one was new and adorned in sickly bright colours. Oliver opened the door, humming as he carried his supplies inside. Al smirked and followed him.