A/N: Fast update is fast, yes? :D
He looked so real. His pale skin was flushed a light pink, his eyes a dazzling emerald, his sandy blond tussle of hair was untidy and dishelved. His hallucinations had never done him this justice.
"Alfred, I—"
No. Please don't do this to me.
The blue eyed man stood, staring at the beauty in front of him. He reached out, testing the waters. Alfred needed to know that this was real.
Please. Don't tell me I'm crazy.
"You're such a bloody fool."
Once his hand touched the other's cheek, the American stifled a sob. Real. He was real.
Arthur.
Before the angel had a chance to react he was pulled into the other's arms. Even though Alfred had lost weight, he was still notably larger than him. That made the creature smile.
"What on Earth are you doing to yourself?"
Both knew the answer to this question but neither spoke up. Instead, the man stroked Arthur's tender cheeks, gazing down into the endless pools of green.
"You're real, you're here," he chanted, unable to believe his own words.
The Briton placed his hands on top of the large tanned hands with a delicate smile. "Of course I'm real, git."
Alfred leaned down to kiss the angel's soft lips before giving a happy sigh. "You've come back to me...to us." He smiled weakly, his heart swelling with joy.
"...Yus. I have."
"Alfred? What are you doing?"
Eagerly, the blue eyed man spun around on his heels. It was wonderful timing on Matthew's part. Alfred moved to the side, placing Arthur in clear view. "Lookit who's come back!"
The curly blond gave his brother a quizzical glance.
"I don't see anything."
"...what?"
Oh God. I really am going insane.
"Alfred, hold on for just a moment, I need to talk to y—"
"You can't see him?" Alfred frowned, staring at his brother as if he was stupid. "He's right here!"
Matthew rubbed his eyes and stared long and hard where the older blond was pointing. Sure, he was pretty blind without his glasses but he wasn't blind enough to see that there was absolutely no one standing beside his brother.
"Who's there, Alfred? I don't see anything."
The angel tried to stop the man from talking, knowing the child would only suspect that Alfred had finally gone over the edge of sanity.
"Arthur! He's right here!" Alfred said sternly, holding up the creature's hand in his.
"...maybe you should get some rest, Al. You're seeing things." Matthew sighed as he walked past Alfred and right through Arthur. The blue eyed man watched in horror.
It was a hallucination.
Arthur could see the pain flash in Alfred's eyes. "Alfred, please, will you just listen to me?"
"How did he—, but, I can touch you. How did he just...how!?"
The anguish in the tortured eyes was nearly enough to make the angel cry right then and there.
"I don't understand! I-I, I held you! I can hear you! You're real!"
Alfred screamed.
Before either Matthew or Arthur had the chance to react, the American collapsed to the floor, clutching at his chest.
At the moment, all three could feel time slow to a halt. The two conscious listened frantically for a heartbeat.
It was there. Fragile; barely audible.
With a sigh, Arthur couldn't help but hope that God felt at least a tad bit guilty.
----
Hours lulled by—Matthew had noted—since they had sent his brother to the emergency room.
The curly blond was sprawled across a bench in the waiting room; his head nestled in a certain Frenchman's lap. Arthur sat beside Francis and occasionally touched Matthew's hair, listening as the older man crooned, causing the child to relax. He wore an assuring smile.
The angel didn't understand why he was even sitting in the waiting room to begin with. He knew he could be in the ER with his love. But it wouldn't feel right. He wanted to wait and go in together with Matthew and Francis.
To Arthur these three people were his family—in a sense. A broken and rather odd family, yes, but Alfred was the single strand that had tied them all together. And now, that thread was tearing apart. Barely holding on.
"Jones' family?"
The trio glanced up at the nurse. She was a small, slight blonde with a satin bow on the top of her head. Her eyes looked almost apologetic.
"That's us, cheri~" Francis smiled as Matthew sat up as well.
"Mr. Jones is in his room. You may see him now."
All three rose from their seats as the nurse showed them to Alfred's room.
Once Matthew dashed into the room, Francis stopped the quiet nurse at the door. Arthur--who was still hesitating to go inside—decided to listen in.
"Ah, pardon me, mon cher," he quietly whispered, even though there was no one in the hallway. "How is he? Do you know of his condition?"
The blonde flushed, too close to the man for comfort. "I-I d-don't know anything, sir. I was only told to lead you to the room...I haven't seen his chart, so I'm sorry."
With a grunt Francis stood up straight and exhaled softly. "It is not your fault, thank you, though."
"Ah! If it's of any importance, I remember that Mr. Jones was mumbling a name constantly over and over." The nurse piped up and the Frenchman's attention returned back to her.
He raised a brow. "Is that so~? Do you remember the name, perhaps?"
"Arthur."
It was at this point that the angel decided he didn't want to listen to the rest of the conversation. He turned his back and walked inside the room.
The body in the hospital bed was so beautiful, and disgusting all at the same time.
"Alfred..."
Said man turned his head slightly, barely breathing as Matthew held on tightly to his tanned fingers. A gentle smile graced his lips and he whispered the other's name in return.
I was wrong. I thought I could fix him.
"I'm so sorry."
All I've done is thinned the strand of thread.