The night waxed into the wee morning hours, the moon and stars dancing across the frigid night sky. Alfred had yet to leave Hope's side, even when Dr. Roberts and the nurses came in to check her vital signs, change the fluid bags, or to check her bandages. There was good news there, at least – nothing which had been sewn back together or back in place had come undone, and the internal bleeding had stopped completely, so all the blood that went into Hope stayed in Hope.
Matthew had stayed with Alfred for a while, but soon enough Arthur and Francis had come upstairs. Francis had led his younger brother out of the room, noting the dark circles beginning to form under his former charge's eyes. Arthur then had taken to sitting with Alfred, keeping the silent Nation company. Of course, Matthew had not disclosed the discussion between himself, Arthur, and Hope; now knowing that Hope knew before the accident that they had been special would only emphasize the fact that she and Alfred should be separated.
Arthur stretched in his chair on Alfred's right; the two of them hadn't moved in over two hours – which was about the time now that either a nurse or Dr. Roberts usually came in to check on their patient. He looked over to the taller Nation; Alfred was still leaning back in his chair, his demeanor all but screaming defeat but his eyes curiously alert to everything going on in the room.
"You should go get some sleep, old man," Alfred suddenly told him, his eyes darting over to the green uniformed man.
"You're one to talk, brat," Arthur retorted quickly.
"I slept earlier," Alfred said in his own defense.
"Not of your own volition," Arthur quickly pointed out. "You should try and get some sleep while –"
"I'm not leaving."
"Alfred…" Arthur said, sighing. "I know you feel a sense of duty towards her, but –"
"Hope?" a young male voice suddenly called, tinged with fear and worry, but muted through the glass. "What room is she in?"
"Here, 316 on your left," Dr. Roberts suddenly voiced.
Arthur had turned around to hear the commotion coming down the hall, and suddenly Dr. Roberts and a handsome young man suddenly popped into view through the glass window. The door opened with its silent whoosh and a young man wearing a pair of faded jeans and a black leather jacket entered. "Hope, oh God, Hope," the man cried, running towards her. He suddenly stopped, realizing two strange men were already in the room. "Who are you two?" he said, his voice taking on a menacing edge.
"I'm Arthur, and this is my younger brother Alfred. You're sister saved our lives," Arthur quickly explained, standing with his hands up in the air in a gesture of innocence.
"Hope…saved you?" he stated in surprise, stopping mid step.
"Alfred, get up – let him through," Arthur told him gently as he pulled on his arm. "We'll be outside," he said, pulling the taller man along behind him.
Dr. Roberts watched the two men leave, turning to watch the newcomer. The young man had walked slowly towards Hope, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Hope…what happened to you?" he said in a small voice as he took in the view before him.
"Mr. Richardson, your sister is a very courageous person," Dr. Roberts began, placing a hand on the young man's shoulder and pushing him down into the chair Alfred had been occupying. "Now, let me begin by saying that although her situation is critical, she is stable at this moment…"
Out in the hall Arthur and Alfred looked in on the two men, watching Dr. Roberts talk to the stranger. Arthur noted how the man carefully laid a hand on Hope's right arm, tapping it gently. "Family?" he guessed.
"Her younger brother," Alfred suddenly supplied.
Arthur turned to him. "He must have been the nearest – although didn't he say they had been contacted hours ago?"
Alfred shook his head, staring through the window. "Her parents are on vacation and her older brother lives out on the west coast. Her younger brother would have been the only one around – he goes to school south of here."
"Oh," Arthur replied, not having much to say about the new information. "He seems close to her."
"Yeah." The young man inside suddenly slumped his shoulders, shaking slightly. Dr. Roberts patted him on the shoulder, stood up, and walked towards the door. It opened quietly, and shut again before Alfred spoke. "How is he?"
"Hope's little brother? Fine. He raced here from his college with a car he borrowed from a friend, almost getting a speeding ticket in the process. He's contacted the rest of their family, who will begin showing up in the morning at the earliest. He does, however…wish to speak with the two of you when you have a moment. He wishes to know what happened."
"Of course," Arthur said. "We can't leave until morning as it is, with the planes grounded due to the freezing temperatures."
"I see," Dr. Roberts replied, nodding. "Will you be waiting here then?"
"For the time being." The three men fell silent, their gazes pulled towards the small family reunion. The young man seemed to be talking to the woman, patting her arm in reassurance.
"Well, I have other patients to check on, so please feel free to have the nurse page me if you need anything," Dr. Roberts said, stretching his back. "These old bones of mine don't do many night shifts anymore," he added with a laugh.
"Thank you again, Dr. Roberts," Arthur told him as he stuck his hand out. Dr. Roberts clasped it, and the two men shook heartily.
"No problem, Mr. Kirkland, no problem at all. I should be thanking both of you for taking up your time to honor that selfish request of mine."
"To stay with her?" Alfred spoke finally in a quiet voice. "I would have anyway. I want to stay…until she wakes up, at the very least."
Dr. Roberts and Arthur separated, and he walked up to Alfred and patted his arm. "She is lucky to have a friend like you. She is going to need all the support her family and her friends can give her in the months ahead, with recuperation and physical therapy."
"Will it be bad?" he asked him, looking down to study his shoes.
"It depends on the person in the end," he said with a sigh. "But she'll have to work on re-learning how to use the muscles in her arm and leg, as well as walking – she'll be like an infant for at least the next three months or more. She's persistent, though, I'll give her that," he added with a hearty laugh. "I know she'll make a splendid recovery. See you boys later!" he called, waving as he walked down the hall.
"Goodbye," Arthur called, noting that Alfred had slipped back into his morose silence. "See? She'll be as good as new!" he insisted, patting him on his shoulder. He turned towards the glass, looking into the darkened room. He noticed with the surprise that the young man had stood up, his back turned to them, as he spoke to his sister. Nodding, he turned around and walked towards the door, eying the two of them the entire time.
As the door opened, the young man with slightly long, medium brown hair stepped out into the hallway. He did not speak until the door had closed behind him and he heaved a great sigh, leaning against it. "So…" he started, scratching the side of his face. "Hope…pushed you two…out of the way of an incoming car?" he stated, tilting his head in what was probably confusion to the side. His eyes were a light shade of blue, unlike his sister's piercing emerald green.
Arthur stared hard at Alfred, who had decided to look up. He blinked, seeing Arthur's glare. "Um, yeah," he began, turning to face the youth. "We were in the middle of a crosswalk when…a car slid on the ice behind us. She pushed us out of the way just in time; thanks to her we only have a few bumps and bruises," he added in a softer tone, turning to face her room.
"How do you know Hope?" the youth questioned them. "I've never seen you before. Are you teachers?"
"N-no," Alfred, said. "We just met on Thursday for the first time."
The young man raised an eyebrow. "Really…what do you do then?"
"I work in the government," the United States of America told him. Well, it's not like it's an outright lie…I do work with Barack a lot…
"I see." The man looked like he didn't believe him. Who would? "What about you? You're obviously a British native, not American."
Smart git, Arthur winced. "I work in Parliament," he told him. "I'm here visiting some relatives of mine, Alfred being one of them."
"Hmm." The man closed his eyes, bouncing against the metal and glass door for a minute in silence. He suddenly pushed himself away, walked up to Alfred, and stuck his hand out with a huge grin on his face. "Well, I'm glad to finally meet the one and only man who's ever caught my sister's attention."
Arthur and Alfred both stood there, mouths agape, but Alfred had enough sense to shake the young man's hand. "Finally?" he repeated. "What do you mean?"
"My sister may be a smart teacher and a talented musician, but she's as thick as a brick when it comes to relationships," the young man sighed, rolling his eyes as he pumped Alfred's hand one last time and let him go. "She's never once been with anybody for longer than one or two dates. Kind of makes me feel older than her once in a while," he added with a laugh. "But on behalf of my sister, thank you for staying with her. Dr. Roberts told me that you had stayed with her until I got here, which I'm very grateful for. He also told me that you aren't leaving until the morning?"
"Not until the airport clears the planes – they're all iced up right now," Arthur explained.
"I see. I would offer you a place to stay, but…"
"It's alright," Arthur told him, holding up his hand. "Our friends are holding up in one of the larger waiting rooms downstairs. We have coffee and tea if you're thirsty…?"
"Coffee sounds great," the young man said with a grateful smile. "The heater in the car didn't kick in for a while, so it was a cold drive even with gloves on," he said while rubbing his hands together.
"Then I'll bring some up. Alfred…?" Arthur asked, turning to face him. He was still staring into the window. "Alfred, did you want any coffee?" Arthur asked him softly as he walked up behind him.
"No thank you. If you don't mind…that is, I would like to…" he began to say, turning to face the young man.
"You know, I need to stretch my legs a bit. Do you mind if I go and get that coffee with you?" the young man asked Arthur. "And do you mind staying with Hope while I'm gone? I don't want her to be alone in case she wakes up anytime soon," he asked Alfred.
"I'll stay," Alfred immediately replied.
Hmm, smart one, isn't he, Arthur commented to himself with a small smile. "Let's go and get that coffee then. We'll be back in a while," Arthur told him as the two of them began walking down the hall.
"Alright," Alfred called, hesitantly pressing the button into Hope's room. The door opened, and he stepped inside, taking a deep breath of antiseptic air. She was unchanged, still breathing shakily but with a steady heartbeat. He walked forward and sat in the chair he had occupied minutes before, looking over the woman's frail form. "Your brother seems nice," he told her honestly. "He resembles you in many ways."
Beep…beep…beep…
"He went with Arthur to go get some coffee. Do you know he raced here from his college? Dr. Roberts said he almost got a speeding ticket; however, I have the feeling that almost is pretty normal for him," he added with a small laugh. It echoed in the room around him, filling it completely.
Beep…beep… beep-beep…beep-beep…
"You seem like you're doing better," he told her, looking up at her face. Still pale, still impassive. "I know it must hurt though…are…are you in a lot of pain?" he asked her in a quiet whisper.
Alfred blinked. He blinked again, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. No, Hope was still unconscious, but he swore he saw her grimace a little. Looking behind him, he didn't see any nurses or Dr. Roberts standing there, so he reached forward. He placed his left hand under her right hand, curving it into a fist, while he placed his right hand over hers, covering the needle from sight. "Arthur used to hold my hand when I was little…when Matthew or I hurt ourselves. It always made me feel better. I don't really know a lot about what normal humans do, what a mother or father does for their children, but I know that Arthur is usually right about these things. Don't ever tell him that I told you that though," he said in a slight panic, his old self poking through for a moment.
And in that instant Hope's fingers moved, brushing against Alfred's for the briefest of moments.
Alfred couldn't believe it. Had…had Hope moved? "Hope…Hope…?" he repeated, a little louder this time as he leaned over the side of her bed. He squeezed her fingers back. "Hope, if you can hear me, squeeze my hand," he told her earnestly, waiting for a response.
Hope did not move again. Defeated, Alfred slowly sat back down in his chair. He did not let go of her hand, of course, but he laughed bitterly. "Arthur's right – I must be tired to be hallucinating like this," he justified to himself. He sat there once again in the half silence of the room, listening to the beeping of the heart monitor and the slow inhalation and exhalation of breaths. He closed his eyes, feeling how heavy they were, even with the annoyingly itchy mask covering his face. Just…for a moment… he thought to himself.
~:~:~
There was an infinite darkness all around. No beginning…no end…no in between. Just the darkness.
Running…
Turning slowly…
Running faster…a stretched hand…
Frozen...
A smile…
A look of terror…
"Alfred!"
"Hope!"
"LOOK OUT!"
"No!"
Alfred could not find his way within the darkness. His nightmares had returned to plague him, now adding recent colorful imagery to his surroundings. The darkness with the voices of his people…those in pain and agony. "Where are you? Please, tell me what has happened!" he begged them.
It is too late for them, the raspy voice said, returning.
"Too late?! Too late for what? If…if they are those at Ft. Hood…" he begged, "if they are dead, I can't do anything else for them!"
Too late for them…not too late for her… the voice continued.
"Hope? What's wrong with Hope?" he demanded, stepping forward.
She is you…you are her…your people are you…you are your people… the voice told him, beginning to fade away.
"Wait! I don't understand!" Alfred called, reaching out for the voice…
…and ended up grabbing a fistful of blankets. He blinked his eyes open slowly, seeing only blankets and a long white cast in his immediate area of sight. He had fallen asleep on the edge of Hope's bed apparently. Sitting up, he used the back of his hands to rub the weariness out of his eyes…only to find that one would not move. He turned his head slowly to his left, and was astonished to see Hope grasping his hand tightly in her sleep. He tried pulling away once more, but her vice-like grip prevented him from doing so.
Alfred leaned over the hospital bed to look at her face underneath the oxygen mask. It was calm and serene, save for one lonely tear that slowly trailed down the outer edge of the plastic mask. He used his right hand to softly wipe it away, smiling gently. "I get it now," he told her, cupping her cheek in his hand. "I've always known it; you even told me about it, for that matter. You are me, I am you," he repeated, like the voice in his dream. "My people make up who I am, and I embody everything my people are. If I'm sad, you're sad. If I'm angry, you're angry. If I'm hurt…your hurt," he finished, gazing down into her closed eyes. "I am the embodiment of the people of the United States of America. You are the embodiment of everything I want to be…the hope for my people."
Alfred carefully removed his mask first as he slid it down around his neck. He then removed the oxygen mask from around Hope's face, being cautious of the nose tubes yet. Leaning down, he moved several damp curls away from her face and closed his eyes, pressing a tender but resolute kiss on her lips. They were dry but soft, and he pressed against them a little harder. He leaned motionless above her, holding them together for a long while as time stood still around the two of them.
After what felt like hours, but might only have been minutes, Alfred pulled away from Hope. Her grip had loosened on his hand in the middle of their kiss, so he was able to stand up fully after replacing their masks. The United States of America smiled down at Hope, a true smile after two days of heartache. "Thank you Hope," he told her quietly. He turned around, slowly walked towards the door. He knew he had to leave now; now, while he still could under his own free will. Hope was his hero – she had rescued him from his mistakes, and now he must reciprocate and rescue her from him.
"Al…fred…" a hoarse voice suddenly called out in a bare whisper.
He suddenly froze. Alfred knew she couldn't see him, what with her right eye bandaged over. If he stayed quiet, he could probably leave without her knowing. His mind told him to leave, to spare her even more pain…but as always, Alfred's heart was his master. He turned around and ran back to the bed, leaning over it right away, relief washing over his face. "Hope! Hope, you're awake," he cried at her.
She started momentarily, the unease of half perception and the painkillers slowing her mental processes. "Alfred…" she whispered, smiling up at him. "You're…okay…" She tried looking around the room, but suddenly noticed that she could barely move. She tried lifting her head, which in turn lifted her chest, but she cried out in pain as she did so.
"Shh! Don't move," Alfred told her, pushing against her shoulders. "You got into a fight with that car and lost, remember?" he remarked with a short laugh.
"…Arthur?" she asked him, trying to take in shorter breaths. Her chest really hurt for some reason. And so did her left arm and right leg too, for that matter.
"He's okay. A few stitches, but none the worse for wear," he answered.
She closed her eyes. "…me?" she asked in him a small voice.
Alfred grabbed her hand. "You're…in pretty bad shape. But nothing that can't be fixed!" he quickly added. "We'll be with you each step of the way," he assured her. "You won't go through this alone, I promise you."
As Hope's eyes were closed, she felt something was different about her face. She suddenly flushed, remembering her strange waking dream. "Did…did you…kiss me?" she asked him, opening her left eye and training it on his face. "I dreamt…I dreamt that…"
"Shh," he told her, placing his hand along the side of her face once more. "I finally figured everything out," he told her in a quiet voice, but proudly. "All thanks to you, I might add." He leaned down, an inch away from her face. "You are a truly wonderful person," he told her, kissing the plastic of her oxygen mask through his own mask.
Her face flushed a dark crimson, if not from a fever than obviously from embarrassment. "Alfred…" she said, squeezing his hand.
However…their tender moment was to be cut short but a sudden onrush of footsteps in the hallway. Alfred had just stood up when two nurses came running into the room. "Her heart rate has increased dramatically, as well as her intake on fluid! You'll have to move sir, we need to – oh…" the nurse suddenly said. As she was trying to push Alfred out of the way she finally noticed that her patient was conscious. "Well, well, well, what do you know! You're surprising everyone tonight, my dear. And you – out of the way for now. Into the hall with you!" the nurse told him with a playful shove, forcing Alfred towards the door.
"Alfred…" Hope called to him uneasily as the two nurses began poking her and checking her all over. Her head was turned on its side, her solitary green eye following his every move.
"It's okay – you're in the hospital. These nurses will take care of you. I'm going to go get Arthur and the others!" he told her as he trotted out the door.
"– hope it isn't anything serious," Alfred suddenly heard Dr. Roberts say from down the hall. He turned to face the window, hiding his expression – he wanted to surprise everyone with the great news. "Oh, there he is. Alfred, what's going on?" Dr. Roberts asked him as he walked up from behind him.
"Is Hope okay?" Hope's younger brother added, worried.
"Alfred, what is going on?" Arthur asked him. "Matthew and Francis are here too; they came up with us to see Hope." Alfred continued staring into the glass, but there was something different about his demeanor now. "…Alfred?" Arthur repeated, reaching out to touch him…
…but he suddenly turned around, an enormous smile on his face as he lifted England up into the air and swung him around. "She's awake!" he cried happily to his older brother.
"Al-Alfred, stop! Alfred, put me down!" he shouted at the exuberant Nation, laughing at the same time.
"Really?" Matthew said from behind him, smiling.
"Mademoiselle is awake?" Francis' smile was genuinely sincere at seeing Alfred's happy countenance.
"She is!" Alfred said, putting Arthur down and jumping over to grab not only Canada but France as well and squeeze them into one enormous hug.
During this exchange Hope's younger brother plastered his face to the window, while Dr. Roberts quickly went into her room to assist the nurses. "She's awake," the young man sighed with relief, smiling at his reflection. He couldn't help but wonder at the four men behind him as he stood there. None of them were any older than his sister, or at least not by much. The way they carried themselves, their demeanor, and their choice of words…it made him wonder who they really were. Unbeknownst to the four, this knowledge came easily to him; it was how he had identified Arthur's thick English accent as well. The tall blonde is French, obviously, and the guy who looks like Alfred's twin has a heavy northern accent… Canadian, most likely. He grinned. His theater professor should really rethink his grade in Foreign Languages and Accents.
~:~:~
The afternoon sunset streamed in through the large picture window, shining off of the newly fallen snow that had collected on the small sill. The rest of the city was coated in a picturesque white as it prepared for the holiday season.
Within the hospital room flowers of all colors, shapes, and sizes filled almost every surface, as well as several plush animals. A small stack of books sat on a movable table, which was currently residing over the resident in the bed. Upon the table was a lidded cup with a lengthy straw in it; the woman was trying to use her one good hand, her right, to pull it nearer to her and turn the straw around in order to reach the cooling water within. She couldn't sit up very far, due to her still healing broken ribs, and looked very silly trying to push her lips out farther to try and reach the straw. "Come on…just a little further…" she goaded herself.
"You look like a fish out of water," a male voice said with a laugh from the doorway, the sunlight glinting off a newly repaired Texas.
Hope looked up guiltily, then in mock seriousness reprimanded him. "If you have time to stand there and laugh at me, then you have time to help me get a drink of water."
"Yes ma'am," Alfred told her, grinning as he walked into her room. He set the book he was carrying down on the chair next to the bed, and picked up the Styrofoam cup, pulling the straw up to her mouth. "Here you go," he told her.
Hope smiled, placing her mouth on the end of the straw. After several deep gulps, she pulled away. "Ah, much better," she sighed.
Alfred replaced the cup with a smile. "Two straws together still isn't long enough?" he asked her as he removed his bomber jacket, shaking the lingering snow off of it as he threw it around the back of the chair.
"It's not my fault that I can't move more than two inches," she quipped back at him. She eyed the book Alfred grabbed as he sat down. "What did you bring today?" she asked him.
"The Life and Times of the English Privateer Fleet, as recorded by Captain Arthur Kirkland," Alfred told her, rolling his eyes. "He heard that you liked those Johnny Depp movies so much that you might like to know what it was really like."
"Oh, but it must be so old!" she protested. "He should have kept it in his library."
"He said you can read it, but I can't, since apparently only you would 'appreciate its true value,'" he told her, holding up his fingers in quotation signs as he quoted his older brother. "Apparently I'm not trustworthy enough."
Hope laughed. "Tell him thank you, when you see him next. You'll have to add it my 'going to read once I have two hands to use again' pile," she told him, pointing at the small stack on the table.
Alfred smiled, looking around the room. Hope's family had all arrived the day after the accident: her aunt and her two sons, her lone surviving grandmother and her great aunt, many more relatives than one could count – even her parents came home early from their vacation. There were tears and reprimands, but overall everyone was just glad that she was alive and going to be alright. There were many introductions to be had, but only with America, England, Canada, and France – the rest of the Nations had booked out of the hospital after a brief hello to the patient early that morning, boarding the second Air Force One to head back to where they had come from.
In fact, that was where most of the presents had come from. Sitting on the larger table in front of the window were three of the largest bouquets: bright yellow sunflowers from Ivan, white lilies from Francis, and red roses from Arthur. Of course there was another larger table in the far corner of the room with several more vases of flowers, but the most impressive looking was a vase holding a mixture of red, white, and blue carnations with a small American flag in the center. On her bed there was a stuffed panda from Wang Yao, a polar bear from Matthew, and a mochi from Kiku. On the shelves were several large packages of fresh pasta from Feliciano, in the small refrigerator a package of wurst from Ludwig as well as fresh tomatoes from Antonio, and a small model sailboat from Peter to name a few.
Alfred smiled to see the room filled with such a cheerful atmosphere. During the hellos and goodbyes, the last Nations to leave besides Alfred and Matthew were Ivan, Francis, and Arthur. It was humorous to think back to now, but at the time Alfred had been furious.
The three of them had walked into the room like chastised little boys, caught with their hands in the cookie jar. Knowing they had been wrong in going about the situation, Francis and Arthur apologized for the way they had spoken to and treated Hope, Ivan apologizing for deceiving Alfred and Matthew as he left the other three alone. Needless to say America had been angry – he had known that Arthur had said something the day of the accident, but he hadn't known to what extent until that point. Even so, it was Hope who had immediately forgiven them, knowing that they had only done so to protect their younger brother. She knew what that felt like. After that small bump, the group of them spoke about what was going to happen in the future…since Hope knew their secret. Well, hadn't known specifically yet.
"What's wrong?"
Alfred was startled out of his musings by a penetrating green stare. "Hmm…what?" he asked her, smiling.
"What's wrong Alfred? You're normally more talkative than this when you come and visit me between meetings. Is your stomach still in pain?" she asked him, eying his middle.
Alfred looked down, placing a hand on the sore but healing area. "Thirteen people died altogether, with thirty wounded. The man who did it was a psychiatrist on the base; he was of Palestinian descent, a practicing Muslim. He just…began shooting everyone where he worked. One…" he began, but had to stop and take a breath. "One of the soldiers killed was a woman. She was pregnant."
Hope looked at Alfred with sympathy in her eyes. "The other woman was from Kiel, north of here," she added softly. "I'm sure, though, that they had no regrets – that they were proud to give their lives for their people. Even President Obama gave his regrets in his speeches, and urged everyone to not give into hate towards the Muslim people…unlike a lot of what happened eight years ago."
"He's a great guy," Alfred told her with a shaky laugh, looking back up at her and smiling a little.
"What doesn't kill us makes us stronger," Hope told him. "Now, I'm pretty sure that wasn't the only thing on your mind. Now tell me what's really bothering you."
He looked up, staring at her straight in the eye. "It's been two weeks since the accident," he began. "Dr. Roberts says that you're healing up just fine – you'll have no problems with any of your injuries in the future."
Hope looked down at herself. She was still wearing the casts – she would for several weeks to several months yet. Her ribs and shattered pelvis would take longer to heal – for that she would probably be using crutches or a cane for the next year. The bandages had been removed from over her head and eye, allowing her to see again – she would proudly show off her three inch long scar for the rest of her life, regaling her students with muted tales of bravery. Thankfully the head trauma she had suffered was nothing more than a slight bruising to her brain, which according to the cat scans was healing quite nicely. She had thinned out a bit too, from the hospital food most likely – her family tried to sneak her real food every time they came to visit. Even her students and the rest of the school had sent her cards and get well presents hoping for a speedy recovery, although it was very likely she wouldn't be back until spring at the very earliest, maybe not even until the next school year began the subsequent September. "…but?" she prompted, knowing he had more to say.
"But…" Alfred started. He turned his head away from her. "The others think that I am coming to see you too much, that it is interfering with my work."
"Is it?" she immediately questioned him. "Are you slacking off again Alfred?"
"No, no! Of course not!" he immediately cried, pouting at her. "I would never! Heroes never slack off on duty!"
"Then what's the problem?" she added quietly with a smile.
Alfred leaned back in his chair, running his fingers through his hair tiredly. "The problem is…I can't stop thinking about you. You are in my thoughts each and every day that I'm not here, wondering if you're doing alright, if the doctors and nurses are taking good care of you, if the hospital –"
"Alfred, Alfred, that's enough," Hope told him with a laugh, reaching out her right hand – needle free – towards him. Alfred grasped it, curling his fingers around hers. "I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself – although you're going to spoil me with all this attention," she smirked.
He looked down at the floor, his grip on her hand tightening. "I know," he answered her in a small voice.
"This is about what Arthur said, isn't it?" she asked him quietly. "About you and I being together."
Alfred nodded.
"He is usually right about these things, you know."
His head shot up, mouth open in protest as his words were repeated back to him. "What does he know?! So what if he says it hasn't worked in the past?! That doesn't mean –"
"That doesn't mean he's stopped wanting to protect you," she interrupted him gently. "Arthur only wants you to be happy, Alfred. If that means that you and I shouldn't be together, and should stop seeing each other, than I will respect his wishes." She looked down. "I am only human Alfred. I won't live forever," she told him in a whisper. "I won't be able to be with you forever either."
Alfred looked up at Hope. He saw her hiding her face from him, but clearly saw that she was in just as much pain as he was – and he was only making it more difficult on the both of them by refusing to give up. "I…I know," he finally said, squeezing her hand. "You won't live forever, but I might."
"Will," she told him firmly, looking up with a watered gaze. "My Nation will never fall."
"Hope," Alfred whispered. He stood up from his chair and leaned over the bed, using his thumb to wipe away the few tears that had streaked down her face. She closed her eyes, leaning into his touch. "No matter what…even if we can't be together, I will always be here for you. We will still stay in touch always."
"Always," Hope echoed, opening her eyes to look into his sky blue ones. "Alfred," she said, her voice finally breaking as more tears ran down her face. "Stay with me tonight?"
"Of course," he told her instantly. Alfred slid off his shoes and climbed up gently into the hospital bed, wary of her injuries, and wrapped his arms around Hope's frail mortal body. She cuddled against his large frame, once again inhaling deeply the familiar scent of leather, hamburgers, apple pie, and freedom.
