Hi everyone! I'm releasing this chapter early as an apology for making you guys wait so long for the last one...I hope you enjoy it! Reviews are much appreciated, and thank you to all of you who have done so already! ^u^
"Ah-CHOO!"
"Shall I fetch the tissues for you?" Arthur offered, standing up and going into the kitchen without waiting for a response.
"Oh, thank you, Arthur dear," Elizaveta sighed, massaging her temples with her pointer fingers. "So strange...we don't normally fall ill..."
Well, in the three weeks since Arthur had been imprisoned, that proved to be true. Besides Alfred, Elizaveta and Gilbert seemed to sleep at odd hours of the day, and sometimes didn't even sleep at all. Arthur felt a pang in his chest as he thought of Alfred, but, as always, he pushed it back down.
"You've run out," Arthur commented, scratching his head. He decided to go get the tissue box in his room.
His room. For the first week of his "stay," he had been forced to sleep in the main living room, and after the first night he had been watched by either Elizaveta or Gilbert constantly. Even when he was in the library, usually one of them stood in the hallway to make sure he didn't leave. Arthur felt a bit hurt that their trust was so low even though they treated him kindly, but he supposed it was a smart move on their decision - after all, Arthur had tried to escape several times since his first failed attempt. Alfred had stopped him a couple times - the bloody brute seemed to have a radar that went off every time Arthur tried to escape - but Elizaveta and Gilbert had caught him as well, gently reprimanding him.
But soon, they gave him a room on the first floor(with no windows, of course), near the end of the hallway and close to the stairs. It was small, and Elizaveta apologized for the lack of space, but Arthur was grateful. Personal space. Time to himself. An ability to lock the door, to leave him to his mind, to truly feel isolated. Besides letting him go, it was honestly one of the best things they could have done for him.
And while Alfred could physically disturb him in the library, Alfred could only pound on the door while Arthur retreated into himself, lost in his thoughts.
But almost every time he opened the door, he found one of them standing outside. Usually it was Gilbert, who tried to strike up some sort of conversation to disguise the fact that he was...well...guarding him.
As Arthur walked down the hallway, he saw Gilbert climbing down the stairs, yawning.
"Good morning, Gilbert," Arthur greeted, continuing his walk. He'd grown used to Elizaveta and Gilbert now, and almost knew them as well as he knew Francis - although he didn't want to know Francis that well in the first place. He shuddered at the thought of him.
"Uh...oh, Arthur. Yeah, morning." He yawned again, his eyes unfocused. "Liz is still sick?"
Arthur nodded, going into his room and grabbing the tissue box. Gilbert waited in the doorway.
Arthur decided now was the best time to ask. "Why are you guarding me?" he demanded, his arms crossed over his chest. "You know that I know better than to try to escape."
Gilbert blinked, the tips of his mouth quirked upwards. "Shit, we know you know."
"Then what is the reason for this?"
Gilbert's face fell a bit. "Don't worry about it, Art." He turned around and motioned for Arthur to follow him as he made his way back to the living room. Propelled by indignation, Arthur rushed towards him, grabbing his shoulder as he forcibly stopped him.
"Wait, Gilbert."
Gilbert turned around, his eyes wide.
"Why won't you two tell me anything? If you expect me to do more than just waste away perusing endless piles of books and occasionally bantering with Alfred, you're going to have to tell me!" Arthur exclaimed, his eyebrows furrowed. "Whatever you and Liz are hiding, I'm clearly a part of it, and I think that I've been here long enough to have earned the place to demand some damn answers!"
He heard a whistle behind him, and turned to see Alfred climbing down the stairs.
"Awww, you made him mad," Alfred laughed, a lopsided smirk on his face. "What'd ya do now, Gil?"
Gilbert shrugged, grinning. "Whatever I do, I do for you two." He looked at Arthur then, his eyes serious, as he continued to walk to the living room.
"And I suppose you know what's going on?" Arthur huffed, glaring at Alfred. "And I didn't realize that this household had such late risers."
"...Late night last night," Alfred admitted as he walked with Arthur.
Arthur felt his heartbeat speed up in his chest. Alfred hadn't changed a lot since Arthur had met him, but in some moments, he could feel as if the...barrier, for lack of a better word, between them was slowly shrinking. Usually, Alfred would always be defensive, teasing and attacking Arthur whenever he got the chance, but now he felt as if Alfred was beginning to trust him - if demons were capable of trust. Which he highly doubted.
"Watching too many movies?" Arthur teased, recalling how Alfred had mentioned his admiration for cinema several times over the past weeks.
"Nah. Are you interested in my tastes, little lion?" he asked, suddenly turning on Arthur, his eyes glinting.
"I don't have to ask you to know. Let's see here...you probably enjoy supernatural films? Seeing humans torn apart by vampires, werewolves, and the like?"
"And falling in love with them," Alfred finished, an unamused expression on his face. His eyes bore into Arthur's, and Arthur sped up his pace, turning his head away. He didn't know why.
Liz's face was filled with relief as he gave the box to her, a slight smile on his face. "Sorry for the wait."
She smiled, but her skin was less radiant than usual, her eyes tired and moist. She slowly drew out a tissue, looking at it blankly.
"Gil," she called, her voice rising. Gilbert poked his head out of the kitchen.
"T-This house," she said slowly, blowing her nose. "Al is feeling it too. We need to...to do something..." Her eyes closed suddenly, and she fell over, crashing to the ground with a painful thump.
Gilbert's eyes widened as his pupils became slits. He rushed over to her immediately, sitting down and dragging her head and shoulders into his lap.
"Liz...Liz!" he shouted, running his hands over her cheeks.
Arthur stood dumbfounded. He had never seen Gil care so much for anything before. But it made sense. As much as the two bickered, he sensed that there was more than just friendship between them.
Alfred seemed shocked too, his eyes wide and his jaw clenched. Arthur and Alfred knelt beside Elizaveta, Arthur tentatively pressing his hand to her forehead.
"She has a fever," he said, frowning. "She must be extremely tired to have passed out."
"We don't get tired," Alfred cut in harshly, shock evident in his voice. "What the fuck?"
"We've already established that, so something must be off!" Arthur snapped, green eyes glaring at red. "Hurry up and get me a cold towel! And let me go fetch some medicine-"
"Nice try," Alfred interrupted, a frown creasing his forehead. "You won't be escaping."
Arthur tried to quell the rage that was building up. "I appreciate the sentiment," he hissed, his voice rising, "but as we have more important things to address, I suggest we get a move on and treat her or its very likely she'll need more help than two idiots and an editor can offer! Now, if you're really so stubborn, why don't you accompany me so we can get there as soon as possible?"
A flicker of interest and confusion lit up Alfred's eyes for a brief moment. Arthur was breathing heavily; he had never shouted at Alfred before but didn't have time to regret it. It surprised him how little he cared.
"Are we going?" Arthur asked, standing up irritatedly, his voice wavering slightly.
Alfred smirked. "As you wish, little prince."
Suddenly, the ground disappeared beneath him as Alfred swept him off of his feet, carrying him securely in his arms.
"W-What," Arthur began, at a loss for words. "What are you doing?! Let me down!" He struggled, flailing his legs, but Alfred's grip was like iron on his upper back and behind his knees.
"Shh," Alfred whispered, delighted at Arthur's embarrassment, a twinkle of something Arthur couldn't understand in his eyes. "It's faster this way."
Gilbert cackled as Alfred sped out of the room, opening the door.
"A-Alfred," Arthur began, but was cut off by the fresh air that was surrounding him.
He was outside. After almost a month, he was outside again, and to say the fresh air was a luxury was an understatement.
It gave him life again. He closed his eyes as he took a deep breath in, his body going limp as he drew in the smell of the trees, the gentle sound of the wind rustling leaves, the chirps of the birds and the heat of the sun. He felt so grateful, and he lost himself in the moment.
When he opened his eyes, he found Alfred looking curiously at him. Arthur flushed at the intensity of his stare, shrinking a bit as he pushed on Alfred's chest lightly.
"W-What is it?"
"What are you doing?"
Arthur blinked. "Pardon?"
Alfred pursed his lips, then opened them again. "You looked..." he trailed off, then stopped again. He looked up at the sky.
"What's so great about it anyway?"
"About what?"
Alfred looked around. "This."
Was he referring to the outside? Nature? Arthur frowned a bit.
"It's life, Alfred. Everything that makes us who we are."
Arthur didn't fully understand why he pressed his hand to Alfred's chest suddenly, where his heart would have been. Alfred's gaze shot downwards, then into Arthur's eyes. "The same thing that makes this beat." He paused. "You should give it a chance, Mr. High-and-Mighty."
"You're cute."
"E-Excuse me?" Arthur spluttered, his face growing even redder. Alfred seemed to take delight in this.
"Aww, my little lion is flattered so easily."
"I-I'm not flattered, you git, and I thought we went over this! Now let me down!" Arthur struggled again, but to no avail.
"I don't want to," Alfred drawled, pretending as if he were bored.
"Have it your way then, but Elizaveta is suffering in there, and -"
"All right, all right, you'll get your punishment later. Let's go and -"
"Hold on a minute! What punishment? For what?"
"You just said you wanted to get going!"
"I did say that, but then you mentioned something totally uncalled for, and I believe that -"
"We're going," Alfred announced, tightening his grip on Arthur as black wings sprouted from his back. Arthur was shielded from the sun by the enormous wings as Alfred glanced down at him, smirking.
"You like what you see?"
Arthur could see the bones in his wings, while the skin was so thin he could see the veins. It reminded him of a bat's wings, and he couldn't tear his gaze away.
"I take that as a yes." With two huge beats of his wings, Alfred shot into the sky, and it was all Arthur could do not to scream.
"Scared?"
Arthur sneered at him, trying to focus on his face and not the hundred foot drop below him. "Hardly."
"Hmm." Alfred pretended not to be interested as he flew upwards, towards the cliff Arthur had stumbled off of all those days ago.
It was surreal, seeing it like this again. In the arms of a demon.
'I want you to kiss me, I want you to remake me
I want to drown in this moment of captivation...'
The song hit him like a tidal wave, emotion that seemed to not even belong to him washing over him with increasing intensity. It was too much. The height, the cliff, his old life merging with the new, in the hands of something he had denied and his heart fluttering with something he would never admit...
He drew his arms into his chest, squeezing his eyes shut.
It was okay. He'd be okay.
What if I'm not? What if I slowly go insane, and all because of this tune I will never rid myself of? Everyone always said that I was different, I was weird, I'd never amount to anything, and now I can't even handle my mind and I fell off a cliff and all because of that I'm trapped by three demons...
"Arthur?" came a low voice, and Arthur opened his teary eyes, looking up at Alfred.
Why do I feel so sad?
But there were tears now, too, and irritation swelled in him because he didn't know why. He never cried. Arthur Kirkland never cried.
"I-It's nothing," he managed quickly, but Alfred was frowning at him...and was that pain in his eyes?
He expected Alfred to tease him, but Alfred said nothing, his expression stony as he slowly made his way to the cliff, and beyond, over the forest towards the town that Arthur called home.
Was it even his home now?
They landed on a path just outside the town, Alfred's wings disappearing as he set Arthur down.
"Alfred? Are you all right?" Arthur had managed to suck up all his feelings and wipe away his tears, but Alfred had seemed...off ever since he started crying. "I apologize for startling you, it really wasn't like me..."
"It's such a waste of time," Alfred said finally, his eyes dark. "Feelings, crying, getting emotional over dumb shit. What does it do for you?" He turned on Arthur suddenly, his eyes narrowing. "And I thought you were different."
Pain blossomed in Arthur's chest as Alfred turned away from him.
"This was all a waste of time."
Suddenly, Alfred's wings appeared again, and he took off into the sky.
"Alfred!" called Arthur, his voice raw and desperate. "Alfred, come back!"
But he didn't, and Arthur knew he had lost him.
"Hey, man. You all right?"
That was the fifth person he'd bumped into today.
"Oh, pardon me. Apologies," Arthur murmured, sighing as he kept walking.
What had Alfred expected of him? Perhaps he'd thought he was strong, but after seeing Arthur weak, he had lost interest? Was that it, then? Was this all a game?
Arthur laughed. He was a fool for thinking it was anything more.
His own weakness even pushed away a demon - he really was useless, wasn't he? His interests pushed away his family, his personality pushed away his friends, his desperation pushed away his only lover and now...his weakness pushed away the last person on earth he thought would reject him for tears.
He sighed, his body feeling incredibly heavy. He had felt so light in that demon's arms, and now...
He slapped himself. He needed to stop thinking about it. It was all over now. He was free, after all.
But Elizaveta...
What did it matter to him, now? Clearly he wasn't important anymore. Clearly he was a waste of time, he wasn't "different" and he couldn't do anything to help anyone. So why bother?
No. That's wrong.
And he knew it.
But he was tired, so tired, and his eyes failed to alert him to his sixth physical encounter.
"Oof! Oh, dear, what have we here?"
Arthur's heart plummeted in his chest.
Francis.
He fixed a cold glare on the blond, his violet eyes twinkling with mirth. But Francis frowned as he noticed Arthur's expression.
"What happened?"
"Out...out of my way, frog. None of your business."
Francis suddenly gripped his arm firmly, and Arthur tried to tug it away. "What? What do you want?"
"None of my business? You've been gone for weeks and we're so inundated with requests and drafts that we've had to hire several part timers to deal with it! And you just waltz in here saying it's none of my business?"
Arthur winced. As always, Francis was right. That was what he hated about him.
Elizaveta's feverish face flashed in his mind again.
"I..."
Elizaveta, or work?
I have to work. Francis is right. I have to get back to my daily life, forget about it...
But his lips wouldn't form the words.
Francis' gaze softened. "You look like you're been through 'ell and back."
Arthur chuckled darkly. "I suppose I have."
He eyed a nearby tavern, and Francis followed his gaze, breaking into a smile.
"Once more, for old times' sake?" Francis offered, winking.
"It's the middle of the day!"
"That hasn't stopped you before."
"That was before."
"And you're telling me you've changed?"
He wasn't different. He was nothing, he was useless...
"No," Arthur said, a grin beginning to form on his face. "Not in the least."
"An' you know what?"
"Mon dieu, will you stop complaining about him?"
"Ya know, that bloody tosser, he doesn't even have a bloody heart to complain about! And he complains about mine! What a...what a..."
"An idiot?" Francis offered, a slight smile on his face.
"YES. Even worse than you!"
"I don't know whether I should be offended or not."
"Of course you should be, you...you..."
"Frog?" Francis said again tiredly.
"YES."
"Arthur, I think we're spent enough time...catching up." Francis slowly moved Arthur's drink away from him, warily looking outside the window. It was dark now, and the tavern was filled with noise, but...he felt as if something dark was watching them from outside the window. He always saw a black shadow in the back of his vision, but every time he turned to look it disappeared.
Maybe it was just the alcohol.
"ANOTHER."
"Non, Arthur..." Francis sighed, taking Arthur's arm and slinging it over his shoulder.
"Bloody - will you let go of me?!"
"Sorry," Francis laughed, circling his other arm around Arthur's waist. "You'll thank me in the morning."
"As if I would ever thank you, you insufferable -"
Francis didn't hear the rest of Arthur's insult, as the room suddenly went cold.
A man stood before him, his skin deathly pale and his black hair hanging over his face. He had uncanny, cold red eyes, and he seemed angry. Angry wasn't the word for it. More like...enraged.
"C-Can I help you?" offered Francis with a slight smile. "Ah, as you can see, I'm a bit preoccupied..."
"Drop him."
"Excuse me?"
The man rushed towards Francis, and Francis barely had any time to react as he punched Francis in the stomach. Francis dropped Arthur as he doubled over, coughing up blood.
"Ay, someone's try'na start a fight over here!"
"Let me in on that!"
And chaos soon broke out in the tavern, tossing bottles and fists and punches for the sheer pleasure of it. Francis lost Arthur in the crowd as he struggled to escape the mess, his eyes frantic.
And when everything calmed down again, Francis only noticed one thing.
That the stranger and Arthur were gone.
When Arthur woke up again, he had a splitting headache, and he couldn't see anything. It was dark. Was it already night? His brain moved sluggishly as he sat up, noticing that it was cold - he must be outside.
Outside. Arthur nearly jumped. How had he escaped?
And slowly, the events of the previous day rushed over him. Alfred had left him. Elizaveta was sick. Alfred was gone.
It was only then that he noticed a pair of blue eyes gazing at him through the darkness.
"Alfred!" Arthur gasped, and Alfred broke out into a smile.
"I thought it was you."
"Y-You...you're..."
"I hurt you again, didn't I?"
He suddenly remembered Alfred's curt rejection, and he felt his heart grow heavy. Why did he care so much?
"N-No, not at all," Arthur said quickly, frowning. It wasn't...it wasn't this Alfred that had hurt him, after all. But now he knew he hadn't hallucinated that first night. "What...what happened?"
Alfred grew silent for a moment. "I think..." He scratched his head. "I think...something happened...I just...I just found you like this. Well, from what I could tell it was you; your voice told me everything."
Arthur frowned, trying to remember what had happened. He remembered meeting Francis...oh.
The tavern.
But Alfred had left him in the morning...and according to...well, Alfred, he had somehow been taken away from the tavern...
Did Alfred come back for him? His heart thudded in his chest at the prospect of it.
"Are you all right?" Alfred reached out for him, accidentally touching his neck as he tried to reach for his face. "I-I can..." Alfred squinted. "I can see you. You're like...you're kinda a blob. And there's dark stuff around you, but I can kinda see where you're at."
Arthur stared at him. "You mean..."
Alfred frowned. "I-I know that I'm blind, but...it's weird...it's like, today, for the first time, I see a hint of color..."
"Who are you?" Arthur asked. The question was eating at him for so many weeks, and he knew that, out of anyone, Alfred would tell him.
Alfred shrunk back a bit, and Arthur instantly wondered whether he'd gone too far.
"I-I'm Alfred," Alfred said, his voice small. "You know that. Don't you?" He sounded broken. Unsure.
"You...you're not Alfred. You're...you're different, even down to your appearance..."
Alfred's eyes widened. "What?"
Arthur straightened up. "You were so pale before, with black hair, and your eyes..." Arthur peered at Alfred's eyes as they widened in confusion. "They're blue now. Beautiful." He hadn't meant to say that. He quickly rushed onwards, hoping he could quell his embarrassment. "A-Anyway, you're so...this isn't a trick, is it? Some sort of demon illusion?"
Alfred stared at him blankly. "What?"
"You're a demon."
Alfred's jaw dropped. "What?" It was almost comical, how surprised Alfred was. It couldn't be an act.
"Y-You, and Liz, and Gilbert...you all live together. You're all demons."
Alfred laughed uncertainly. "W-What are you talking about, Arthur? I know it's been a while, but..." Alfred reached for him again. Everything told Arthur to shrink back, to not be any more involved with him than he was...but he found himself leaning in, letting Alfred touch his face again. "You don't remember anything?"
"Of...what, Alfred?"
"Us."
Arthur frowned. "I don't understand. It seems that you're the one who doesn't remember anything."
Alfred's face fell as his hands began to shake slightly.
"Of course you wouldn't remember. You..." His voice cracked, and Alfred winced. "You..."
He slowly opened his lips, taking in a silent breath before he began to sing.
"A slender flame burns at the edge of my heart
Without warning, it spreads into a burning passion...
My butterfly, flitting around it chaotically
Scales dropping into your hand..."
Arthur's eyes widened. That melody...
"Alfred, I-"
Suddenly, Alfred began to convulse, hunching over and groaning.
"Alfred!" Arthur bent towards him, a hand on his back. "Alfred, what's happening?"
He let out a cry of pain, and in the dim light, Arthur could see his hair changing, his skin becoming more visible, more pale...
He could run now. He would never have to face Alfred again. He could escape, he could go back to his old life.
But he didn't.
Arthur felt his heart drop as Alfred leaned up again, red meeting green.
Arthur stared at him, unblinking.
"We meet again, little lion."