A/N: Should I warn you? Nah you'll find out.
Another week had passed and Arthur had seen neither hide nor tail of Francis, or Alfred and he was starting to show signs of loneliness and nicotine cravings. He had very little money left, from what he could tell, but he had enough instant noodles and canned food to last him a while, so he wasn't overly fussed about food. But cigarettes! What he wouldn't give to have Francis over, just to blow that dammed smoke in his face again, so he could inhale it's poisons into his body and rid himself of this horrible feeling!
He fidgeted in his uncomfortable bed for a while longer, before sitting up and making a decision. He had to rid himself of the cravings; he HAD to. As he stumbled into the kitchen and opened a small tin of noodles and tomato sauce to eat, he tried to recall the sign that he had seen about how to quit.
By the time he had eaten halfway through the can, he remembered. Nicotine patches. They were sold at chemists and such, so he could easily find them, but could he afford them? His eyes wandered to the cupboard where he hid his money, but he didn't move. He knew he might have enough, but then what if he got sick and didn't have money to buy medicine with? What if he ran out of food before he could make more money? Those thoughts frightened him more the he would ever let on, so he made the decision to wait until he had finished another job, and then he would buy them.
Arthur was back out on the streets that very night, searching for willing men or women to pay him for sex, or anything of a sexual nature. He even wore a little more makeup, just to add more lustre to his appearance. And as the sound of footsteps approached him, he stuck out his hips a little and smiled innocently towards the stranger in the dark.
"Care for some fun luv?"
He struck lucky that night.
The man was old, about forty something, but he was well-built and paid Arthur handsomely at the end of it. Even a tip for his silence, as not only was he a high-ranking businessman, but he also had a wife and kids. Arthur knew his type, wanting sex but the wife was too busy, so instead of finding time he'd find someone who was willing, because it was all they could do in life.
One hundred and fifty big ones, Arthur smiled for the first time in a week, as he counted out the pay. Combined with the money he had at home, he would surely have enough for the patches, plus any other living expense. In fact, he was so happy that he decided to go out and celebrate.
Lunchtime the next day, with his nicotine patches safely in his jacket pocket, Arthur entered a noodle bar just off one of the main streets. It was practically empty, except for one or two other customers, but Arthur was not fooled by the poor interior or lack of people. The food served there was among the most delicious he had ever had. The only problem was he didn't get along too well with the cook…
"Ah, hello Arthur… I'm afraid we can't give you any more free handouts." A small Asian boy said, though his words sounded anxious, his expression remained calm. Arthur smiled back at him and held a note up to show the boy, who without a moment's hesitation replied with.
"Would you like a seat inside or outside?"
Arthur sat inside with a view of the street while he waited for his meal. It wasn't a particular cloudy day, nor was it sunny, but somewhere in between where the weather can't make up its mind. Three more customers walked in while he waited, two leaving with take away pre-made food, while one waited for a freshly cooked meal. The same boy walked up to him with a large bowl of noodles and soup, mixed in amongst it was chicken and prawns and various vegetables. If he didn't gain weight from eating this, then he would be disappointed.
After the second person was served, the cook casually made their way over to Arthur, sitting next to him and staring out the window.
"So Arthur, I haven't seen you in a while aru." The man spoke to him in a heavy Chinese accent.
Arthur snorted and shoved a spoonful of noodles and vegetables into his mouth, letting himself enjoy the intense flavours before answering the man.
"I've been busy." He stated simply. The Chinese man left it at that and returned to looking out the window with Arthur. After about ten minutes he spoke again.
"Do you still… ?" Arthur snorted as he chewed on a prawn.
"Yes Yao, I still sell my body for money, though business is slow lately." The Chinese man, Yao, nodded again, a thoughtful expression on his face.
Arthur ignored him and slurped down the rest of his soup. The meal had been beyond delicious; it even bested the food Alfred had left out for him, but this was food made in a restaurant so he was excused. Any food Alfred made was far better quality then his own canned food.
The conversation died after that and Yao eventually left him alone to return to the kitchen, with a sort of saddened smile. Arthur remained for another half an hour after he finished, for the warmth the restaurant gave him, before getting up to leave. He waved to the boy and sent a nod to Yao when he peered out of the kitchen and headed on his way.
Most days Arthur spent in his apartment reading second hand books, mostly cheesy romance ones or even an odd book about knitting. Then when night fell, he donned his skimpy outfit and took to the streets for work. He had a surprisingly good week in terms of work. Three nights with decent pay and just the usual married men and one woman. He didn't usually get too many women, but this one liked to feel dominant to men. He could still feel the cold biting metal of the handcuffs on his wrists, as he flicked the yellow page of his book.
Reading was starting to boost Arthur's mood day by day, and he could feel small bits of his time in school coming back to him. Information he thought that he had forgotten when he began to sell his body on the street. Also that amazing feeling of satisfaction he got whenever he finished a book, like he had truly accomplished something.
Another week passed, making it two weeks since had had seen Alfred and over three weeks since he had last seen Francis. The disappearance of Francis had sparked his curiosity, but he knew the man to come and go for long periods of time, either when he was hiding from the police at a safe house, or busy making more product at someone else's house. But it was the fact that he hadn't been contacted, not even once to be argued with, that made him worried.
It was another two days before Arthur was worried enough to go to the buildings landlord and ask him to check it out. He was wearing tattered denim shorts and the sweatshirt that Alfred had given him, as he followed the old man up the stairs back to where Francis' and his apartments were. After a minute of trying out keys, the landlord found the right one and they were inside.
The landlord was the first one in, sniffing his nose in disgust at the odd smell that greeted them. Arthur followed behind him closely, peeking around the apartment at his friend/enemies belongings. Francis' apartment was something between Alfred's apartment and Arthur's apartment as it contained personal belongings but it was clean, unlike his own lodgings.
He glanced around at the photos, Francis posing with ladies, Francis posing with men, Francis posing… Ok, the guy liked him self a lot. Arthur noticed one photo of him on the mantle. It was a candid photo of him a few years ago, when he had first moved into the room across from Francis… When he had first started his new horrible life... He was sitting by the window with a cigarette hanging from his mouth, and he appeared content in the late afternoon sun. But it begged the question of how had Francis gotten a photo of him in the first place? Well maybe that would be answered when they found the bastard.
The landlord had gone to the bedroom to make sure he wasn't just sleeping, and then headed over to the bathroom. Arthur moved further into the apartment, making his way to the kitchen and dining room. He realised, with a sense of revulsion that the closer he got to the kitchen, the worse the smell became. It got to the point where he had to use Alfred's sweatshirt to cover his mouth and nose.
As Arthur stepped around the wall and into the kitchen, a sudden wave of nausea hit him, as the smell here was worse then anywhere else in the house. Though the scene he saw before him caused all hatred of the smell to go out the window as his eyes widened and his mouth fell open.
Francis lay slumped on the floor against the cabinets, his head lolled to one side, his neck exposed but that wasn't the shocking part. His chest, his clothes that he prided himself on above all else, was covered in blood. Arthur vaguely heard a scream in the distance, getting louder before he realised he was the one screaming. He stumbled back against the wall on the opposite side of the kitchen, gasping and panting as panic started to over take his body.
The landlord appeared from nowhere, yelling something along the lines of 'oh fuck!' but Arthur wasn't paying attention to him. His mind shrieked at him to look away, but he couldn't move his body to do so. He felt numb. Completely and utterly numb, as his only true friend lay dead across the room from him. His was truly a sad existence.
The police came, asking questions, getting frustrated, taking photos, cleaning up the crime scene. Yes… That was right, it was no longer Francis's home, it was now a crime scene. Arthur sat in the hall; the police had long since given up questioning him in his withdrawn state, and had moved on to the landlord and his neighbours. The police remained there for hours, tagging and taking things from his apartment, and then finally they wrapped up the body, and took it downstairs.
"We're going to have to bring you in with us for more questioning." A gruff looking policeman told him. Arthur didn't remember answering verbally, but he faintly remembered nodding his head in response and accepting a hand to stand up.
The trip to the police station felt like a blur to him. He hadn't noticed the stares he had received as they walked down and out of the apartment building, he hadn't noticed the world as it rushed past the police car, and he hadn't noticed the hustle and bustle of the police station, all a buzz due to a new murder case. Arthur was placed into a dark room, lit only by a single florescent light hanging above him. He remained still, staring off into space until the door opened and a man stepped through.
The man had slicked back white hair and red eyes that casually peered around the room, his eyes resting on Arthur before widening briefly. He licked his lips and sauntered over to the table in the middle of the room, muttering something that sounded like 'eyebrows' before sitting down on the chair across from Arthur. The chair creaked under his weight, but Arthur guessed they were old from the stains he had seen on his own chair before he sat down. When he looked up he found the man staring back at him, and in the back of his mind he started to register that he had met this man before… But it seemed so long ago.
"So," The man began, tapping his fingers on the table. "You knew this… Francis Bonnefoy… Well? Would you say?" Arthur chewed his lip and looked down at his feet. There were quite filthy actually, dirt caked under his toenails and between the toes themselves.
"Well?"
"Ye-yeah…" Arthur finally got out. His first words in what felt like hours. Who knew? It might have been hours and he would not have realised.
"How… Well, did you two know each other?" Arthur snorted, bringing his legs up and hugging them to his chest.
Not... Not all that well." He answered. The officer raised his eyebrow and jotted something down on a piece of paper.
"Then why were you asking after his wellbeing? Are you a nosy neighbour? That would make sense but given the apartments you live in, also the fact that he owns a photo of you and displays it gives me the impression that you are more… Then just people who live across from each other." Arthur frowned at the officer as the man smirked back at him.
"Were you perhaps, secret lovers? Casual… Fuck buddies?" Arthur scowled and clenched at his legs tighter.
"No." He answered curtly. The shock of seeing his friend may have still been in his system, but hearing that made him feel unfaithful to Alfred. Even though they weren't even dating… Or having sex… Honestly, he had nothing to feel indignant about. He was a prostitute, and it was blatantly obvious.
"Huh…" The man smiled half-heartedly at Arthur before writing something else down. "Would you like a… Coffee? Tea? Water maybe?" He asked, gesturing with his hand towards him.
Arthur had the distinct feeling that he was trying to come up with an excuse to leave the room, and discus his answers with the other policemen but he did not have much more to say to him, so he spared the officer by answering-
"Tea, please."
-And watched him leave with another small smile, the door once again locking him into the confined space. Arthur let out a long sigh, his shoulders drooped and his head went back to resting on his knees. He felt somewhat thankful to the officer. The questions had woken him from his daze, letting his mind slip back into reality as the shock slowly left his body, and the realisation of just how big what had happened was started to seep in.
As his mind began to process everything that had occurred in the last few hours, consequences started to make themselves apparent. Francis was a drug dealer. If word got out that Francis was dead, and that he was the only known friend and/or closet person to the French man, then he knew for certain that he would become a target of Francis' suppliers. Or the people he supplied the drugs to… Arthur shuddered and hugged his knees tighter.
The situation was starting to move beyond anything he was used to. Death, drugs, murder, Arthur had made sure his nose stayed clean of any of them, and yet here he was stuck in the middle of three things he tried to avoid most. This was the lowest of the low; there was no way he could have slipped any lower down in life.
The door clicked open again, revealing two new officers. The smaller one, a woman with an ill-tempered scowl much like his own, carried a Styrofoam cup over to him, placing it on the table before him and then moving back to sit down opposite. The taller officer, a rather tan looking man smiled from his position leaning against the wall by the door. Arthur mumbled 'thanks' under his breath as he clasped the cup in his hands, his fingers curling tighter around it, desperate for the warmth.
"Now then." The woman began, glaring pointedly at him. "I'm Officer Vargas and this is Officer Carrendo." When mentioned, the other man nodded at Arthur. "And we believe that you're not telling us everything." Arthur frowned into his tea, taking a sip and then putting the cup down. The tea tasted awful.
"I've told you all I know." Arthur sighed.
He was beginning to feel fatigue set in, as the adrenaline fuelling his shock wore off. Officer Vargas scowled deeper, her eyebrows knitting together, her mouth almost forming a pout, as though she did not like what she heard. Though he supposed he wasn't giving her helpful answers.
"You don't believe that anymore then we do!" She snapped, pounding her hands on the table, causing Arthur and Officer Carrendo to jump.
"Ah, what she mean's amigo, is that we want to know about Francis, not about the murder." The male officer jumped in, much to Officer Vargas' annoyance.
"Oi! Tomato bastard! This is MY interrogation! Not yours!" She said brusquely, turning away from Arthur to send her full wrath upon Officer Carrendo. The latter put his hands up defensively, and laughed, leaving Arthur to believe that his interrogation was the biggest waste of anyone's time.
While they argued across from him, Arthur put his legs back down on the floor and watched his toes, bored. It wasn't until the albino officer came back in to break them up, did Arthur start to pay attention. Officer Vargas was sent out, leaving Arthur alone with the two men.
"So…" The albino started.
"Francis was a perv." Arthur said simply, catching both men off guard. "He liked to sleep around." The two exchanged a glance.
"So, maybe this was the work of a jealous lover? Maybe he messed with someone's wife?"
"No, he would never touch a married woman... Or man." Arthur snorted. For a man with such little respect for anyone other then his self, he had some decent morals. Always going on about love and how fabulous it was.
"He always thought of himself as better than other's…" He continued, not bothering to make sure the officer's were writing what he was saying down. "He was snooty like that… Heh, it seemed kind of pointless to be snooty in the place we lived… But he was… Good? Despite all his shortcomings he took care of me, lent me money when I needed it and never asked for me to pay him back… I guess he made a lot on the side of being a bar tender…"
The first officer leaned forward, making Arthur start to feel uncomfortable.
"What did he do? How did he make extra cash?" He questioned, his red pink eyes bore into Arthur's.
A dilemma entered Arthur's mind. If he told the officer's about Francis doing the drugs, then he could perhaps get protection, or go home. Didn't they have a witness protection programme? He didn't actually know anything other than the fact that Francis distributed them. He didn't know where, when or to whom. He didn't know who gave the drugs to Francis in the first place! He only knew that's what he did.
On the other hand, if he didn't tell them, then he would no doubt be stuck in the small grey room, for countless more hours with idiots who seemed to know less about what they were doing, then they did about the murder. There was also a possibility that whom ever had killed Francis would come for him, and the police would have no clue. He chewed his lip and looked down at the floor as he weighed the options in his mind. In the end he went with option one.
"Francis… Sold drugs." The moment he said this, the two officers came alive with questions.
"What kind were they?"
"Do you have the name of his suppliers?"
"Where were they sold? Park? Alley way?"
"Any names of recent clients?"
"Did you ever by them yourself?"
"Did Francis ever use them? Was he behind in payment maybe?"
Arthur felt his heart rate speed up and ended up yelling
"I don't know!" The two officers paused, seeming to realise that they had frightened a witness. Arthur licked his lips and once again, brought his legs up to hug. "All I know… Is that he sold drugs, I don't know where, I don't know to whom, I don't know who gave them to him and I don't know who bought them from him. I don't know what kind they were and no, neither Francis nor I used them… He said it was a rule to never use what you sell."
After his outburst, Arthur was only at the police station for another hour. But instead of being cooped up in the interrogation room like a suspect, he was seated outside in the bustling office, signing papers, giving statement's, signing more papers and then finally, after what felt like the most longest day in his life, Arthur was allowed to go home.
He wasn't given the option of a lift home, as the department was busy using the new information he had given them to chase up leads. One young and excited officer had told him as he got him to sign his millionth piece of paper, that this case could make or break their team so it was important! Good to know that they genuinely wanted to catch Francis' killer, Arthur had thought sarcastically.
Arthur huffed angrily as he commenced his long walk back home, in nothing but a sweatshirt and shorts. His feet began to sting after a while of walking on gravel, and hard concrete but he pressed on till the streets became familiar, and his apartment grew closer. It wasn't until he was standing out side the building, that he realised that he did not want to go up to his room. Just the thought of going up and seeing Francis' room, covered in police tape, was starting to make him feel ill all over again.
The sun had started to set, it's orange glow somewhat melancholic, given the circumstances. Francis had always believed sunsets to be the most romantic time of the day.
It was a struggle, to walk back up the stairs, down the hall and to stop in front of his own door, doing his best not to turn to Francis' door no matter how much he wanted to. It was as if he wanted to confirm the day's activities, to tell him self that it really did happen and that this wasn't just some crazy, messed up dream.
The door loomed forlornly behind him in his mind as his natural human curiosity reared its head. His hands were shaking as he felt his foot start to pivot on the cold wooden floor. Soon his other foot joined it and when he realised he was half way to looking, he shut his eyes tight. Maybe, if he prayed hard enough, he would wake up any second with Francis blowing smoke in his face.
Even without looking, Arthur could tell that he was facing the door. It hid a world that he hadn't known existed until today, and that world had been created and destroyed in a matter of minutes. With a deep breath, filling his lungs to capacity, Arthur squirmed on his side of the hall and with one last sigh; he gradually let his eyelids slide open.
The door stood still, silent and black in the evening. The old paint peeling off at the edges, very much like Arthur's own door. Across the doorway, from wall to wall was police tape, the usual 'do not cross' printed repeatedly in bold black letters. Arthur's hand brushed the tape as he stepped closer, placing his fingers gingerly on the door behind the tape. The wood felt damp, cold and dead under his skin; sending chills up his spin, causing him to squeeze his eyes shut again.
He probably looked a sight; tired with bags under his eyes, which were shut tight while he gently pushed against the door behind bright yellow police tape. He could only imagine what Francis-
"Fuck." Arthur pushed away from the door, wrestling with his key and lock, before shoving his way into his apartment and locking it behind him. His back hit the door, pressing against it as he used it for support. Hot tears slithered down his cheeks and dripped onto Alfred's sweatshirt, leaving small dark grey patches.
"F-fucking French twat," Arthur chocked as the sobs began to build up. "Never thought I'd e-ever cry for h-him…"
Arthur stumbled through his apartment and collapsed on his bed. His eyelids now heavy, and his head sore from crying, but he could not stop. The tears fell, soaking his pillow in small patches. In fact, he didn't remember stopping before his world turned black, as the fatigue dragged his body into a restless and nightmare filled sleep. It could almost be considered a good thing, as this way he didn't hear the footsteps outside, or the voices or even the ripping of police tape. He remained oblivious in his dreams to the indecencies going on just out side his apartment.
The next morning Arthur woke to yelling, loud voices and harsh words being said outside in the hall. In his half awake, half asleep state he could vaguely make out the voice of the albino man that had interrogated him yesterday, but he didn't recognise the others. They were arguing about something to do with Francis' apartment. Something about how someone had ransacked the place, destroying everything. Arthur sat up at that bit of information.
Was his theory right? Were the people Francis sold for or to looking for what ever he hadn't sold? Were they looking for Francis himself? Arthur dragged himself out of bed, and headed into his bathroom, splashing water on his face and then, tentatively peering into the dirt covered mirror. His eyes were red and puffy, meaning he had probably been crying most of the night. His hair stood pointing in every direction, and his clothes were wrinkled from where he had lay on the. In short, he looked very dishevelled, even for him.
The water had just started to boil, hissing at him from the stove when a knock sounded at his door. Honestly, Arthur had been expecting it since he woke up this morning. Hell, he believed that they would be back the next day to question him again, anyways and this was just the perfect excuse. He let them wait, pouring the hot water into his cup of instant noodles, and covering it back up before walking over to the door to open it for the officers. The knocking had become more insistent the longer he took.
Arthur opened the door to a very livid looking police officer, tapping his foot hurriedly against the floor. He shot Arthur a disgruntled look but refrained from bursting out with anything unprofessional.
"Good, you're home." The albino officer said through clenched teeth. Arthur raised an eyebrow and leaned against his door
"You know, I think I liked it better when you were drunk and stumbling around on the streets." He replied snidely. The officer blushed, opening and closing his mouth like a fish while the men behind him stifled laughter behind their hands.
"S-so it was you!" He pointed an accusing finger at Arthur who frowned and pushed it away.
"So what if it was? What do you want? You're interrupting my breakfast." The officer grumbled to himself in what Arthur thought sounded like German, and moved out of the way. Arthur looked across the hall and was confused as at first, all he could see was Francis's door, then the obvious clue appeared. The police tape had been ripped.
"We arrived here this morning for a secondary search, for drugs of any kind, no matter how well it's packaged, some of it will have escaped into the room, but when we arrived, the tape was ripped and the door had clearly been opened." The albino officer turned back from the door to Arthur. "And seeing as you live right across, we came to ask you whether you went in there, or whether you heard something last night."
Arthur continued to look at the door as he answered. Who would go through a dead man's apartment? Unless they were looking for something…
"I didn't hear anything and I didn't do anything." He uttered, eyes still concentrating on the door, a slight anger boiling in his stomach at the thought of someone disrespecting Francis's apartment like that. He only hoped that he wouldn't get dragged into this mess any more then he had been.
The police searched the apartment, and while they found traces of drugs, they didn't find any stash of drugs, or even any money, no matter where they looked. They left late in the afternoon, taking their various equipment and sniffer dogs with them, their demeanour shrouded in disappointment. After they left, the apartment felt so much quieter, that Arthur found it almost eerie, though he had lived with that silence for a good portion of his life. He stood across from Francis's door, watching it intently and feeling increasingly guilty that the last thing he had ever said to the frog was accusing him of murder. Although he had apologised, Francis had never formally accepted it, so he would never know if Francis and he were still friends or whether he had died thinking Arthur hated him.
That evening Arthur left the apartment, intent on continuing his work and trying to keep up his lifestyle, despite the shock from yesterday. Death was a more easily accepted concept in his neighbourhood, and though Francis had actually been a close personal friend (yes, he no longer referred to Francis as an enemy) he still knew that to stop now meant that he would lose and he had to keep going. For his sake and he was sure Francis would say the same thing should he have still been there.
In fact, it had only been two hours before he found a taker, or rather, the man found him…
Arthur whined softly, desperately trying to keep in a loud whimper as the man pushed his head harder into the brick wall, his nails digging into his skin impossibly hard. Arthur didn't like that he knew there would be marks there in the morning. The man let out an animalistic growl as he thrust in harder, pushing Arthur more forcefully into the wall. He had to say, the position wasn't ideal but it wasn't often he found clients who wanted, and in fact asked to do it then and there. It saved time for both of them and meant that Arthur felt better in his home territory. But there was something odd about the man that he couldn't place his finger on.
"Fuckin' slut!" He grunted, slamming his length into Arthur's hole faster, ignoring the small whimpers of pain as his hand kept Arthur's head pinned to the wall, while the other hand was griping harshly onto his waist. The man had begun to pant, his movements becoming more and more erratic as he neared his limit. Arthur could feel it, soon this would be over, he would get paid, the man would be relieved and everybody would be happy. Or would have been except the man paused, even when Arthur could tell he was so close.
"W-what, why did you…?" Arthur mumbled, wincing as the man moved while still inside of him. He felt hot breath against his cheek by his ear; the man then emitted a breathy chuckle, sounding every bit as sinister as the devil himself.
"Arthur Kirkland," The man breathed, smirking into his skin as he felt Arthur tense. "Go back to your apartment and you're as good as dead."
"Wha-" Before Arthur could even respond, the man thrust up into him, using his hands to pull Arthur down onto his member at the same time causing Arthur to scream out in pain, while the man groaned loudly and came inside of him. He pulled his hands away, laughing as Arthur dropped to the ground in pain.
"Keep that in mind ok fucker?" Then he pissed on him. Arthur shuddered as the man's urine soaked his top and ran down his skin. This had to be the worst he had ever gotten treated, he thought miserably as he waited submissively for the man to stop.
Eventually he did, for it wasn't possible to pee for too long. After he finished he kicked Arthur in the back and dropped notes down near his head.
"That's your pay slut, hope you enjoyed it!" The sound of his zip being redone then the crunch of his footsteps on the ground alerted Arthur to the very relieving fact that he was gone. But his words were not forgotten.
'Go back to your apartment and you're as good as dead' Arthur thought bitterly, vaguely wondering how his life could possibly get any lower then being pissed on by some stranger who threatened his wellbeing! Probably another hour had passed before Arthur found the strength he needed to pull up his pants and collect his money. To add insult to injury, the man had paid him twenty dollars in fiver dollar notes… Arthur didn't feel much like being on the street after that.
He began the depressing walk back to his apartment, wondering if the mans threat was nothing but a bluff as he touched his cheek, a small amount of blood running down his forehead from where he had been shoved against the wall. It wasn't until he reached the apartment building, and saw the lights on in his apartment that he commenced panicking.
There were people in his apartment. His whole life was in there! If he couldn't go back then where would he go? Where? His nicotine patches, his instant noodles, his books… Even Alfred's sweatshirt… It was all so precious to him even though it wasn't much.
"Tonight is shit." He decided, turning heel to find a park to sleep in for the night. Hopefully they would be gone by the morning.
Arthur shivered as he sat alone on the wooden bench in the park. It was very late by now, and the nightlife of the park was completely awake. Twice he had had disgusting smelling men walk up to him asking for money, even when he didn't look much better off then he and he had ended up giving them the money the man had thrown at him earlier, a small sick feeling of satisfaction at knowing that even though he had hit rock bottom, at least there were people out there lower then he.
It was very early in the morning when he was shaken awake, two hands on his shoulders squeezing and moving him. Arthur blinked blearily up at the figure, obscurely realising that he had fallen asleep in a park while still sitting up. At first the figure was unclear so he mumbled the first name that came to him.
"A-Alfred?"
The figure snorted and stepped back.
"Guess again eyebrows." The harsh German accent cut through Arthur's foggy mind and woke him up fully.
"You… The albino officer." He frowned, before checking his body quickly to make everything was still in one piece.
"Seriously? You never got my name? It's Gilbert." The man, Gilbert, smirked, as he looked Arthur up and down. "Man you look horrible, and smell even worse!"
He chuckled as he sat down next to Arthur. Said British man frowned harder, tentatively bending his head a little down to his chest and sniffing, pulling back a moment later in disgust. God, why did this happen to him?
"Fuck you," He seethed, turning to glare directly at Gilbert. "Why are you bothering me this early again? Can't you see I'm busy fucking up my bloody life?" Gilbert placed a hand over his heart, and gave a very poor performance of being hurt.
"Oh wow, and here I was actually concerned for your wellbeing! Well I guess I won't tell you who's looking for you then, seeing as, you know, you're busy with whatever." He stood and began to walk away. Arthur sharply inhaled as promising thoughts flitted to mind.
"W-wait!" He jumped up and followed the albino officer, realising that he wasn't wearing his uniform, and grabbed onto the back jumper. "Please, who's looking for me? Please tell me!" Gilbert mouth quirked upwards in an almost smirk, a single eyebrow rose.
"Oh so now it's please? Ok, well first you must thank me." He puffed out his chest and waited.
Arthur stiffened, shooting daggers at Gilbert before muttering a small 'thanks'.
"What was what? I didn't hear you say 'thank you your awesomeness!" Arthur grit his teeth and curled his fingers into a fist.
"Do you want to be punched in the face?" He threatened.
"Do you want to know who's looking for you?" Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!
"Th-thank you, your… Awesomeness." He managed to ground out through clenched teeth. Gilbert patted him on the shoulder and laughed loudly.
"Good boy! See? That wasn't so hard!" He then manoeuvred Arthur with his arm towards a small silver car waiting by the park.
"Where are we going?" He asked confused as to why Gilbert was doing this and not just telling him.
"The station." Was the reply, and while Arthur wasn't all happy about it, at least he would be safer there than at the park.
Upon arrival, there was a woman waiting for them, a blanket in one hand a cup in the other. Her brown hair was cropped short to just above her shoulders, her hair curled on one side of her head. Her kind forest green eyes twinkled as she handed the blanket to Arthur, the moment he got out of the car, and gave him the tea once he had the blanket settled on his shoulders. The blanket was a little itchy but it was warm, and it covered him, hiding his nightly attire, which had gone through a little too much the night before.
Gilbert was on his phone the moment they stepped into the actual station, and while he talked, the woman whom had given him the drink and blanket, lead him around to a seat in her office.
"Gilbert will be right back with you." She smiled. "And if there's anything you need, don't hesitate to ask." Arthur nodded and sipped the tea, pleased to find that it tasted considerably nicer this time.
As he sipped his tea and read a magazine the nice female officer had given him, a commotion started up at the door. Arthur ignored the noise, thinking that it was probably some criminal trying to escape, but the noise was coming closer and closer. Then the voices started to detangle themselves from the various other noises around the office till Arthur was sure his ears' were deceiving him.
He peered out of the office, first catching sight of Gilbert, striding triumphantly through the office while next to him, walking at a fast yet more casual rate came someone very familiar whom had been sorely missed.
"It can't be." Arthur whispered, shocked, as he stood, moving into the blondes view. The sky blue eyes swivelled to him, locking their eyes together as though by a bond no one knew existed.
"Arthur." Alfred said, his face breaking out into a relieved smile. "I've been looking for you."
...
A/N: Well this is a late christmas present! Kinda -laughs sheepishly- unfortunately, this is where the prewritten chapters stop. BUT my goal is to get the next chapter done by next week as it may or may not be the last one, either way, it's one or two chapters to go!
There are some new characters in this chapter, in case you didn't know, they are Hong Kong, China, Fem!South Italy, Spain, Denmark and Fem!New Zealand. [I missed doing this the last chapter, Belgium was the girl in the bakery]
I hope you liked it! R&R please!