Break the Silence
By: Melody Syper Carston
Kapitel Drei: Heroic Moments
"We used to have this figured out. We used to breathe without a doubt. When nights were clear, you were the first star that I'd see. We used to have this under control. We never thought. We used to know. At least there's you, and at least there's me! Can we get this back? Can we get this back to how it used to be?" —Used To by: Daughtry
The trip to England was long and tiring. He hated every moment of it, honestly. With jet-lag and nothing to do, it left the personified nation absolutely exhausted. But he was there now. In England. He just had to get to Arthur's house without passing out. That was, of course, a challenge in itself.
Alfred grabbed his bags from the luggage carrousel and left the airport, hailing down a cab without a second though. The American slid into the back and quickly gave off directions that he had long since memorized. He was quiet the entirety of the ride, trying desperately to think of how to explain why he had gotten into a random argument with Arthur. Alfred, honestly, had no idea how he was suppose to explain that he may have had a terrible day and may have been a little buzzed and may have accidentally let his anger out by yelling and promptly breaking up with Arthur without making the situation any worse. Alfred just wanted to kiss and make up, like in one of those sappy romantic comedies him and Matthieu watched from time to time. But he doubted that would happen, especially since this was Arthur. Former pirate and rebel. The hot tempered Briton he had been raised by and had fallen in love with.
It wasn't ever going to be that simple.
As the cab pulled to a stop, Alfred leaned forward and paid the driver, paying no mind to how much he had handed over. He stepped out of the car and grabbed his bags from the trunk without so much as a word. Carrying the bag up the path to the front of the house, Alfred blinked himself awake, letting out a tired moan as he set his duffel bag on the ground in front of the elegant double doors. He rapped his knuckles once against the glass before popping his head in. "Iggy?"
No response.
Alfred grabbed his bags and carried them inside, setting them just inside the door. He then set out in search of Arthur. First checking the rooms he'd most likely find the Englishman on most occasions.
No luck.
He then went through the halls calling his name.
A futile attempt.
Why was Arthur's house so huge? Why did it feel like the house grew every time he visited? Why did it seem like he could never find what he needed anymore? He was able to find everything when he was a child… but that was years ago! Alfred found this searching frustrating and impossible. Where was he? This wasn't supposed to be so damned difficult! Arthur should have been waiting to yell at him as soon as Alfred had entered the house. But he wasn't anywhere to be found!
The house was much too quiet as well. There was usually the sound of soft music or the sound of computer keys being hit or the sound of Arthur muttering to some sort of "magical creature". But this… this was dead silence. It felt almost suffocating, and Alfred wanted to scream to destroy it.
Something slammed into the wall the next moment, causing Alfred to yelp in surprise and the wall to shudder from the force. The blonde head pivoted towards the slam, sapphire eyes locking onto the door closest to said noise.
A surge of hope washed through him as he opened the door, "Arthur?" His eyes scanned the room, searching for the other blonde desperately.
There! On the bed in the corner!
"Iggy!" The relief written on his face and coloring his voice soon turned to that of concern. "Iggy?" He wandered over to the bed, kneeling on the mattress and crawling over to where the Briton was curled up. After scrutinizing the older man for a short pause, Alfred realized the English nation was shaking in fear.
"God, Artie… You're shaking worse than Toris does after an encounter with a very drunk and very pissed Ivan… what the hell happened?"
No response.
Alfred sighed—for he was getting nowhere—and cupped the Briton's face in his hands gently. "Iggy…" his voice was taking on an edge of warning; Alfred had to clear his throat to keep the soothing tone in place.
He never had been the best at comforting people… The American had always been an "Ah, just get up and walk it off! That's nothin'!" Type of guy. He hadn't gotten a lot of practice with these types of things, for Arthur had always been the one to comfort him, and his brother would just sulk around on his own for a while before bouncing back. He didn't know what to say!
Alfred used his thumbs to wipe at the tears rolling down Arthur's face, taking his time before speaking again. "Arthur? What's the matter?" He could feel panic set in when he didn't see any change in the Brit. What's wrong? What am I supposed to do? "C'mon, ya gotta answer me so I know what to do! Are ya hurt? What's happened, Arthur?" He shook the nation's shoulders lightly, trying to get some sort of reaction out of him.
Still no change.
"Arthur, please…" his voice was once again taking on that desperate tone.
Alfred moved away from the unresponsive Briton, muttering about how Matthieu would possibly know what to do, and began digging his phone out of his pocket. He was reaching for the door handle when he heard it.
"No!"
Had the room not been completely silent, Alfred wouldn't have heard the frantic whisper. He turned to see Arthur reaching out to stop him, tears drying on his reddened cheeks.
"Don't leave me alone with them…"
The American nation turned and stepped closer to the blonde, a frown clearly etched on his usually smiling face. His sapphire eyes narrowed in confusion, eyebrows furrowed. "Who are 'They,' Iggy?" Knees popping in slight protest, the super-power nation crouched down in front of the Briton.
Arthur shook his head frantically.
"Okay… What did 'They' do? Did they hurt you?"
Arthur gave another headshake after a small pause, thinking it over. His shoulders still trembled from shock and fear.
"Did 'They' scare you?"
A slight nod.
"How?"
A shake. No answer.
Alfred sighed and reached up to clasp Arthur's ankle in what was supposed to be a reassuring gesture, but the gasping and shirking away from the younger nations touch was definitely not a good sign. He, instead, held his hands out, palms facing the Briton as if showing that he wasn't going to harm the frightened man in any way. "Alright…" He didn't know where to go from there since this was all so new to him, so he went with his instinct. "Alright. I'm gonna take you outta here. Somethin' bout this room freaks the ever livin' hell outta me." He stood and scooped the quivering England up into his arms, not liking the way the blonde immediately started trying to break free of his strong hold.
"Nonononononononononono!" Arthur whispered. His breathing was becoming erratic and his movements jerky. "Stop, stop, stop!"
Alfred tried his best to ignore the flailing Brit's actions, continuing down the hall to Arthur's room. He knew if he could ignore that and get the older away from that room he'd be in the clear. The American shifted so that he could kick his way into the room and moved across the floor as carefully as possible.
He sat Arthur down on the edge of the bed, slowly stripping him down to his boxers and then doing the same for himself. The American pulled his ex close to him and lay back, shushing the still whimpering Brit.
Alfred ran a hand through Arthur's hair soothingly. "Shhh… I won't hurt you. I won't let them get to you… I'll protect you; I promise." He whispered such thing in Arthur's ear, sometimes moving to rub slow circles across the small of his back.
Arthur clung tightly to one of Alfred's arms, so much so that his nails dug into the skin and left little bleeding crescent moon shapes in the soft skin, but Alfred paid no mind to those. He was too busy with trying to calm Arthur down.
"Alfred…?" The soft whisper made it seem like Arthur had just noticed him.
The younger, blue-eyed nation's confidence soared in knowing that he had calmed Arthur down enough to at least get the blonde to acknowledge him. "Hm?" His ministrations didn't stop: a thumb across the cheek, fingers through the blonde locks, a palm over the lean shoulders, fingertips down and up his arms, a hand gently gliding over his waist backwards, to knuckles kneading the soft skin of Arthur's back.
Arthur scooted closer until he was flush against his ex. "Don't fall asleep before me. I don't want them here again." The last be was muffled by Alfred's chest as Arthur once again readjusted himself. "Talk… it keeps the silence away."
Alfred smiled softly and locked his grip around the smaller blonde's waist. "Of course, Artie. I won't fall asleep on ya."
And he didn't. He stayed awake no matter how much his jetlag begged him to sleep. He sang softly to the Briton, and he told stories about life back in America. He told the Brit how much he had missed the older one, and he apologized multiple times for fighting. He hummed softly, and he laughed quietly as he watched the blonde. He would do anything to break the Silence.
When he finally felt Arthur's body relax and could hear the telltale signs of those slow, sleepy breaths; only then did he bend his head low enough to press a chaste kiss to the top of the blonde hair and let his own exhausted jetlagged body succumb to a dreamless, peaceful sleep.
X~*~X
A/N: They say, "You write what you know." Tells a lot about my life doesn't it? OTL what life? It revolves around computers and catching up on sleep. Hmm… I apologize if either seem a bit out of character, but, to me, this is how I see Alfred acting. Arthur's just out of character because he's hallucinating and panics over everything at the moment…haha…
Questions, Comments, Concerns? I reply to all logged-in reviews! Those who are not logged-in or don't have an account, I could always answer questions next chapter if I see fit.
"I don't see why people add disclaimers to their stories. I mean obviously they don't own it, or they would be multimillionaires that actually did something with their lives instead of writing things for fanfiction. If they actually owned all of this shit, then it would have actually happened, and they wouldn't even bother to think about this dumbass website." -One of my friends on disclaimers
~Melody Syper Carston