And the story continues...
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After this chapter, there will be 2 more chapters and an epilogue. I'll be updating this story more frequently than normal since we're nearing the end.
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"Mm..."
Arthur's eyes slowly fluttered open as he shifted slightly.
Something heavy was around his waist.
He tensed, blinking a couple of times as he tried to place his surroundings. It was fairly dark, although there was a lantern on the wall close by that lit up his side of the room. He kept staring at the opposite side of the room blankly as his eyes adjusted.
Oh.
His conversation with Alfred came back to him as he shifted again. They must have fallen asleep after talking.
He was lying on the bed. With Alfred.
Alfred was holding him.
A flush crept onto his face as he turned around, and he found that Alfred was sleeping beside him, his face content, calm, and innocent. He smiled despite himself, reaching for Alfred's face.
It was warm. An inexplicable happiness filled Arthur's chest as he shifted again, snuggling up close to Alfred, wanting to be as close to him as possible.
He could allow himself just this much, right?
He felt incredibly embarrassed at his own actions, and he inwardly scolded himself.
But of course, he couldn't help the smile that rose to his face. The smile that Alfred had given him.
Arthur suddenly heard Alfred groan as he stirred, and his eyes shot up just in time to catch Alfred waking up, his blue eyes slightly unfocused.
"Hmm?" Alfred nuzzled his cheek against Arthur's head contentedly. "You seem happy," he commented, his voice teasing.
Arthur flushed, pushing against Alfred's chest. "N-no! You're just squishing me to death. Let me go already!"
"I don't want to," Alfred pouted, squeezing him tighter. Arthur sighed, his small protest squashed.
"Who's the strong one here?" Arthur muttered, glaring at Alfred. Alfred just laughed.
"I'll always lose to you."
"Clearly," Arthur responded sarcastically.
"Arthur, I..." Alfred stopped. He took a deep breath.
"When...when this is all over, I...you...would you..."
Arthur looked at him, frowning slightly.
"Uh...maybe this isn't the best time," Alfred said, chuckling to himself as he hugged Arthur to him again. "I'll tell you later."
"You can tell me now. We never know when we'll have time like this again," Arthur pointed out. "Or whether we'll even get out of here."
"We will," Alfred said stubbornly. "I promise."
Arthur sighed. "And even then, you..." His hands rose to Alfred's face without thinking, and his eyes widened. He quickly drew back his hands, leaving Alfred looking confused. He shook his head.
"You still...the curse isn't broken. I thought...I thought maybe, it had something to do with me, but..."
"Yeah..." Alfred frowned. "I don't know. I still don't feel...whole, yet. So I think that the demon part of me is still there."
"I don't understand," Arthur said, looking down as he distanced himself from Alfred a bit. "Were you not upset over killing me? I thought...maybe, when you told me, and when you let out all of your guilt...I thought that perhaps that would help you. But it seems that such was not the case."
Alfred frowned, scooting closer to Arthur. "Of course you helped me, Arthur! I'm with you more and more now, and -"
"Yes, but you're still part demon."
"I don't..."
"What else is there, Alfred?" Arthur pressed, until he realized a possibility.
Perhaps it was deeper than the guilt. Than the fact that he killed his lover. Of course, telling Arthur helped him sort out his feelings, but...something was underlying that action. Underlying everything.
Maybe...maybe Arthur's forgiveness wasn't enough. Even if he could forgive him, that wouldn't help.
Because in the end, it was Alfred himself.
Just as he arrived at the thought, he felt Alfred shift a bit until he was on top of Arthur. He looked down at him with an unreadable expression that was so strange for Alfred that Arthur felt his heart speed up.
"Arthur," he began, and Arthur felt his face instantly flush.
"Y-Yes?"
"I..."
Alfred suddenly let out a sigh, burying his face in Arthur's neck. He drew up again after a while, gazing down at Arthur.
"A hundred years without you...I'd go through it again, if I could relive this moment..."
"Y-You say such terribly embarrassing things sometimes, Alfred -"
"No. You don't get it."
"Understand what?"
"You...You're...you're everything," Alfred whispered.
Gently, Alfred leaned down, closing the gap between them...
Until a knock on the door interrupted them.
"...fre...die..."
They exchanged glances as they scrambled off of the bed, silently approaching the door to hear the voice better.
"I know you're in there. Come on out."
Ivan.
There was no escape. There weren't any windows, and they were in the underworld anyway so it wasn't as if they'd get very far.
"Fuck off, Ivan," Alfred growled in a low voice.
"Oh, so you can speak," Ivan replied, his voice calm and cheerful as always. "Boys, break in."
"Get back!" Arthur exclaimed, yanking Alfred's arm backwards just as the door burst open.
They were instantly surrounded, and Ivan was holding Roderich by the arm painfully. Roderich seemed roughed up, a bruise marring his pale cheek. His glasses seemed to have a small crack on them, and his eyebrows were knit in a tight frown. He looked at Alfred and Arthur with what seemed like remorse, although Arthur couldn't tell in the dim light.
"This little rat told me a little story about two humans who played with things that shouldn't be played with," Ivan said, a triumphant, cutesy smile on his face.
Suddenly, Alfred's wrists were handcuffed as he was grabbed by four demons, two holding onto his arms and the other two behind him, pushing him forward. "Now comes Alfred's imprisonment. As should be," Ivan said simply. One of the demons tried to gag Alfred as well, but after a pointed glare from Alfred the demon shrunk back a bit.
Were they that intimidated by Alfred? Even in his human form?
Maybe...maybe there was hope, then.
They'd need more than that for what Arthur was about to try. He knew it was stupid. Pointless. But he had to try.
Arthur drew in a quick breath and aimed a kick at the nearest demon, causing him to double over in pain.
Alfred took that as a signal and fought wildly against the four demons, but there were too many. They all piled on top of Alfred until he stopped fighting them, and they harshly dragged him up to a standing position afterwards. Arthur winced as he noticed the bruises forming on Alfred's face, and only afterwards did he notice three demons had grabbed him and were guarding him closely.
"Was that a betrayal?" Ivan wondered aloud, walking towards Arthur. "Then you should be punished, too. Perfect."
"No, leave him alone!" Alfred yelled as he was pushed out of the room. "You leave him alone, Ivan Braginsky!"
"No, I'll take my sweet time," Ivan responded merrily. "With your beloved Arthur Kirkland." His voice suddenly dropped to a low tone.
Ivan suddenly let go of Roderich, who fell to the floor. He stood up, brushing himself off as he stared at Arthur with unreadable eyes.
"Roderich," Arthur began, but he was instantly cut off by a painful punch to the back by the demons behind him as he, too, was taken from the room.
He couldn't really remember what happened after that. His mind was a whirl of panic and worry. He was escorted by demons to a large prison cell, and to his relief, he realized that it was next to Alfred's.
Until he saw a chair in the middle of the cell. It gleamed in the dull light, a sickly silver, metallic color that brought up an unpleasant feeling from the pit of Arthur's stomach.
Cold sweat beaded on the back of his neck as he was forced forward and pushed down into the chair.
He could see Alfred's desperate gaze to his left, and three demons stood outside Alfred's cell to make sure he didn't escape or try anything.
Ivan slowly walked into Arthur's cell, shutting the door with a thud.
"Now. For first part of the punishment," he began, his voice buoyant, "Let us begin with a show. Surely this will trigger some memories. I heard from your white feather friend that you cannot remember. I will help you, before I punish you."
"W-What?" Arthur croaked, his throat dry. His mind seemed to freeze, and he had a hard time registering Ivan's words. Was it the room? The air? It certainly was a bit stuffy, but...why...why did his mind feel so slow while his heart was beating so fast?
Ivan smiled. "Though this is more punishment for your lover than is for you. Cannot be helped."
Suddenly, straps encircled his arms, waist, legs, and ankles, and he was bound to the chair in an instant.
"This is better. Now you cannot run."
"You better fucking let him go you sick piece of shit, or -"
"Calm down, Alfred. You can have your turn after me."
"What the fuck!"
Ivan turned to him with a smile. "You have done this already once before, yes?"
And that was when Arthur understood what Ivan meant to do.
He began to hyperventilate, his mind suddenly whirring with fear, nausea, and panic.
No. Not again.
Not in front of Alfred.
It would unhinge them both.
And that was exactly what Ivan wanted.
Alfred's mouth hung open in shock, his eyes wide. "J-Just let him go. Torture me instead!"
"Oh, you will get your turn," Ivan grinned. "I am glad you volunteered; it saves us the argument. To tell truth, I have always wanted to get to know you."
"You sick fuck -"
"Alright, enough chit chat," Ivan sighed, shushing Alfred. "As much as I'd like to spend time with you, I have others to attend to."
Arthur began to struggle against the bonds as Ivan approached him.
"It will go easier if you don't struggle."
"As if I'd believe you," Arthur spat, his heart refusing to calm.
"Fair enough," Ivan shrugged, picking up a knife from the table. "I believe Alfred started with simple cuts. Just."
Cut.
"Like."
Cut.
"This."
Cut.
Arthur groaned, feeling the blood drip down his chest. Ivan had made three parallel lines in the center of his chest, simple light cuts that probably wouldn't leave a scar. There wasn't a lot of blood, either.
But Arthur knew it would get worse.
Because that was how it happened before, right?
"Arthur!" Alfred screamed, tugging on the bars of the cell. "Arthur!"
But Arthur was powerless to stop it.
And Ivan cut deeper, a look of glee on his face as he picked up a bigger knife, ripping Arthur's shirt apart as he carved a heart shape over where his heart was.
"I don't have one of these, and I suppose I should be glad for that," Ivan said as he finished drawing the heart. "I don't have one...but maybe I will take yours after this is over. Or perhaps, Alfred would like to have it. If he is good, maybe I will give it to him as a good boy present. What do you think?"
Arthur held back a cry of pain as he shut his eyes.
He didn't want to see Alfred. See the pain, the anguish on his face.
He just wanted it to be over. He had failed Elizaveta, failed Gilbert, failed Matthew, failed Roderich...
He was worthless. And now, just like last time, he would meet the same end.
Except he was getting killed by an insane psychopath instead of Alfred.
He felt pain blossom down his abdomen next, and then his arms, his forearms, his hands, his fingers...
And then Ivan was back at his chest again, and then his neck, he was suffocating and the pain was unbearable...
He was spun around a couple of times, and soon the room was unbearably hot, and he was sweating, and his blood mixed with sweat as it pooled on the floor. He had long since closed his eyes, trying to bear the pain.
He heard Ivan's gleeful laugh as his shoes were removed, and there was suddenly an unfathomable pain in his right foot, and he didn't want to look but he knew he wouldn't be walking anytime soon...
But just before he lost consciousness, he managed to speak.
He had to say it. If...if only, he could say this one thing...just one thing, all he wanted...
"Alfred..."
He wasn't sure if Alfred could even hear him.
"Alfred, you said...s-said..."
No. He had to finish.
"I said...saving it for later...asking you now...p-please...don't...look."
And then all was black.
Spots of red filled his vision from behind his eyelids. He couldn't speak. Blood filled his throat. Was that blood? Or water? Ivan had dumped buckets of ice water on him countless times. Perhaps it was that?
...why was it in his throat?
He didn't know how long it had been. He could no longer hear Alfred. He could no longer hear anything.
Arthur didn't mind. It was easier to bear the pain without the additional stress of Alfred's sorrow and anger.
He couldn't feel anything. At least he had his eyes.
Last time, he didn't even have his eyes.
At least he remembered that much.
Or were his memories lies?
Did they matter?
Did anything matter?
"Okay, wake up now," Ivan said, dumping yet another bucket of ice water over Arthur's head, jolting him awake. Arthur woke from his daze with a start, not wanting to look down at his body - the messy flesh, a bloody canvas of pain and red and no don't think don't feel -
But Ivan seemed as if he were only getting started, and he hummed as he took out more instruments from his cart.
Ivan suddenly paused, looking over towards Alfred.
Arthur couldn't move his head anymore. But even if he could, he didn't want to.
He didn't want to see the defeated look on Alfred's face, the look that spelled out failure.
"Ivan."
His voice was low. Lower than normal.
"Ah, Alfred. You are back."
Arthur turned to look, ignoring the protests of his dying body.
And his eyes widened in shock at what he saw.
Alfred was standing now, the three demons outside his cell unconscious. Did Alfred knock them out?
His eyes were blood red, his skin pale, his hair pitch black...
Just like when they had first met.
"I was wondering when I would see you again, old friend," Ivan greeted. "How does it feel to be back?"
"I'm going to kill you," Alfred growled. "I'll rip your fucking head off and shove it -"
"Enough, Alfred. I'm busy."
Alfred's gaze fell to Arthur, and Arthur shuddered. Alfred's eyes filled with rage as he looked back at Ivan.
"What have you done?"
"It's my job," Ivan shrugged. "Cannot help it."
A blast blew through the cell, and when Arthur could see again he saw Alfred running towards Ivan, tackling him.
No.
He couldn't let Alfred fall into despair again.
No...
He heard them fighting. But he couldn't move.
But somehow he saw maroon, and then he was free, and he scrambled over to Alfred, tugging him away with all the strength he had left...
"You asked me..." Arthur wheezed, not sure how he was standing. Alfred's eyes were wide as he held Arthur up, supporting him.
But Arthur suddenly collapsed, because his body could no longer hold him, and suddenly Alfred was there again, and he was in Alfred's arms, and...and was this a dream?
Even if it was...
He had to...
"You asked me...how...why...I...you told me you weren't...strong enough, good enough..."
Alfred's eyes darkened, but his hold on Arthur tightened gently.
Arthur's hands found their way to Alfred's face, holding him with all of his strength.
"You are enough, Alfred. You've made...mistakes. We all have," he managed before he broke into a coughing fit, coughing up alarming amounts of blood.
Gilbert held Ivan back as the two watched Alfred and Arthur with wide eyes.
"We've all suffered, and I know you..." He coughed up more blood, but he had to continue, he had to...
"...love me, but don't you dare think for one second that if...I'm not on this earth you don't belong on it either."
Arthur stopped to catch his breath, and he knew he was dying; he couldn't see anymore and red was everything but he had to continue. Even though his voice was scratchy and wheezy and horrible, even though he was barely audible...
"Let my love...support you, Alfred. Don't let it drag you down. You...you were going to lose it, again. When you saw...that. But...but Alfred...because I love you, I want you to live. Even if I'm gone."
Alfred shrunk back, his eyes hurt, tears threatening to fall.
"You are alive, Alfred. Don't let anyone, least of all me, take that away from you. B-Because...you are...you are alive, you are you...and that is more than enough."
"You're partly wrong, Arthur," Alfred responded suddenly. "My heart beats because of you. For you. Everything...everything is for you."
A pause.
"So, for you...I promise I'll be strong."
The room grew slightly warmer as Alfred's eyes slowly turned blue, and his hair gold, for the last time.
For the curse was broken.
He set Arthur down gently before turning to Gilbert and Ivan.
Ivan stared at the two with a disappointed expression. "So your lion could fight, after all."
Gilbert's eyes were wide. "Y-You did it, Art. Shit, shit, shit!"
His face glowed as a wide grin spread across his face. "You did it! You actually fucking did it!"
But Arthur was no longer able to hear him, as all faded into oblivion.