“Here you go,” he handed Arthur the water, holding the clean basin underneath him. Arthur took three gulps, swishing the water around his mouth before spitting it out into the basin. He drank the rest.
A wave of relief flooded him. Alfred sighed, almost collapsing onto his seat. After that brief panic attack, everything seemed to be okay. Arthur looked weary and thin but there no longer seemed to be any immediate danger.
“How are you feeling? Do you want anything?” he asked, laying aside the basin.
At first, Arthur did not respond. His mouth opened to speak but no sound came out. His lips moved, testing his voice until he could finally produce a word. “I...”
“What’s wrong?” Alfred leaned forward, worried.
“I...” he struggled, swallowed, holding a hand close to his throat. “I’m...okay,” he rasped.
Had this been any other time, any other day, Alfred would have snorted; ‘You’re obviously not, idiot,’ but one glance down at Arthur’s open shirt, at the bandages wrapped around his chest and arms and the bruises far below made him a little more tactful.
“Ah...that’s a relief! You gave us a real scare back there and you’ve been asleep for three days! For a second I thought that - ” Alfred laughed so that he would not have to complete his sentence. “A – Anyway, how about some food? You think you can handle soup or something?” he asked, mentally kicking himself when he heard his voice tremble. He was too honest. He was terrible at feigning cheerfulness.
Arthur bowed his head, mumbling something almost inaudible.
“What was that?” Alfred leaned down.
“N...no. No soup,” he muttered wearily.
Alfred straightened, unsure of what to say next. A frown creased his lips. It was not like Arthur to be so subdued but, as he told himself, he had only just woken up. He was still injured and probably drowsy too. He would be okay after he had recovered a bit and, hopefully, gotten something into his stomach.
“You’re still tired. Get some rest. I’ll stay here if you want,” he whispered, placing a hand over Arthur’s he could not help but notice that he flinched as their skin came into contact, just a little bit, before relaxing.
Alfred was not sure if he should make a joke about it. He reached his other hand up to ruffle that sandy hair, hesitated, withdrew his hand, but then bit his lip and decided to take the plunge. Thankfully, when his fingers touched the first strands of hair, Arthur did not protest.
Yet, even so, Alfred could not help suppress the misgivings he felt inside of him.
XX
“You’re not doing it right, aru! Let me have him. Let’s see how long he lasts under Chinese water torture!”
“By all means. I’m getting tired of dealing with such a stubborn customer.”
Alfred paused to listen to voices echoing down the hall. Ever since Yao had flown in from China, it felt as if the pace of things had stepped up a little. They were still trying to trace the source of the possible information leak and the interrogation had spread to the lower ranks of pirates, although it soon became clear that they did not know much. Despite this though, their main suspect was remaining as stubbornly tight-lipped as usual.
Maybe it would be better if he just...
“Master Jones!”
Alfred turned around to see the maid rushing towards him, bearing a heavy tray laden with steaming soup and thick bread. “Marianne? Is something wrong?”
She stopped before him, gasping for breath. “I’m worried about our patient, sir. He hasn’t eaten anything since he woke up and he still refuses food. It’s like he’s trying to starve himself to death!”
Something inside of him wrapped its fingers around his hurt and squeezed.
“Give me that. I’ll deal with it,” he said softly, taking the tray from Marianne’s arms.
“Master Jones!” she halted him as he made his steady way towards Arthur’s room.“I’m worried that...well I suppose you’ll see for yourself.”
Though he did not like the way she shook her head, Alfred simply nodded sombrely, and continued his way towards the white room.
“You’re not doing it right, aru! Let me have him. Let’s see how long he lasts under Chinese water torture!” I smiled at Yao......lets see how long thay last >:)
This is just wonderful. Seriously. Like, the pirates are sick and twisted, but... they have legitimate reasons behind their attack, which is something that's rare to see in ficdom. It actually makes sense, and if nations existed in our world like they do in theirs, I could seriously imagine something like that happening. Because, honestly, there are people out there who would definitely want to 'experiment' something like that. It's not PWP, it's GENIUS D:
All the characters are great so far (I smiled when Yao came in during this part), and their moods and reactions are quite realistic. I like how Arthur's messed up, but in a more subtle way... so far. I'm seriously very anxious for the next chapter, and great kudos to you for creating a trauma fic that's both realistic and enjoyable.
There was nothing unusual about the room at first. Arthur was now sitting up, his head turned to stare out of the window, which had been left partially open. There was nothing odd about the way he watched the curtains flutter, and yet Alfred found something painfully sad about it. He stepped inside, using his body to shut the door behind him and carefully approached the bed.
Arthur kept his gaze fixed on the curtains, not noticing, or perhaps not acknowledging, Alfred’s presence. What made him look like that? Like a bird in a cage that was too tight.
Alfred shook his head of his troubling thoughts. “Arthur!” he spoke loudly and clearly, announcing his presence. “What’s this about you not eating? Don’t try to tell me that you’re not hungry, you must be starving!”
He placed the tray on his bedside table, pushing it forward as if tempting a stray cat to eat.
Arthur spared a glance at the tray, then one at Alfred, his expression remaining thoroughly neutral.
“I’m not hungry,” he spoke in a monotone.
“Bullshit!” Alfred swore on impulse before correcting himself, keeping his anger in check. “Please eat something. You need to eat something,” he gently begged, hoping that his concern would be enough to compel him to eat. Arthur was thin, he realised as he surveyed him. He had always been a little on the skinny side but never skeletal, which would be the way he would be going if he decided to keep on refusing food.
Arthur wrinkled his nose. The first expression Alfred had seen passed over his face; it was one of disgust.
“That woman brought that to me, didn’t she? I don’t want it. Not that disgusting food a human prepared,” he said. For all his blatant displeasure, his tone still remained coldly monotonous.
“What?” Alfred stared. Surely he could not have heard that right.
“Get rid of her. I don’t want to see a human.”
Alfred smiled. This was a joke, right? There was no way a day would ever come when Arthur could speak so coldly. “Arthur what are you saying? You’re a nation, you know? Yeah, people can get really annoying but you – we – we live for our people.”
His smile dropped when Arthur looked at him. No, this was not a joke. He was completely serious.
Alfred swallowed, trying to recover his voice. “If I get Francis – If France makes you something, will you eat it?” he asked. Right now, the most important thing was to make sure that Arthur’s body at least was healthy. “I’ll go tell him to cook you something. Don’t worry, there won’t be any snails in it,” he laughed uneasily
His exit could not have been any quicker and Arthur did not seem to mourn the loss of his company. He simply leaned against the pillows propped up behind him and stared through the window again.
Once out of the room Alfred finally let his shaky composure fall to pieces. He ran a hand through his hand as he wondered just how this had happened. He was at an utter loss as to what was going on or what would happen now.
“Master Jones, was he okay? I’m so scared that he’ll end up starving!” He looked up to see Marianne’s worried face peeking at him.
Alfred bit his lip. Marianne had no notion of who they really were and even if she had known he could not bring himself to tell her the truth; that the person she had been caring for while unconscious despised her.
“...No, don’t worry, he was just being stubborn.”
Marianne sighed and smiled. “That’s a relief! Well then, Master, I have corridors to clean.”
“Thanks for all your hard work,” he whispered and waved at her as she went.
As soon as she was gone he punched the wall, ignoring the sharp sting of pain that raced down his knuckles. Even a hero needed to punch something every now and then lest they exploded with frustration. Therefore, Alfred buried his fist into the unsympathetic wall and sorry for the pieces of plaster Marianne would have to sweep from the floor.
“Here, it’s not poisoned, see?” Alfred took a sip of the soup Francis had prepared to prove his point.
Arthur sat pointedly still, only moving when it was absolutely necessary and, even then, only at bare minimum. There was no longer any life in his eyes, as if everything had been drained out of him the day he woke up in this bleak world. His colour was gone, evaporating into the whiteness of the walls. There was nothing left.
“I’m not hungry,” he whispered.
Alfred tried not to look hurt. “Please eat it!” he scooped a spoonful of thick soup, pushing towards Arthur’s mouth the way one would coax a baby to eat.
Reluctantly, he took the spoon from Alfred’s grip, their fingers brushing ever so slightly, and swallowed a mouthful.
Alfred watched his slow, methodical way of eating. He did not savour the food, but ate it with the grim determination of a soldier given an order to march. If he was not there to watch over him, he doubted that Arthur would even bother to continue eating.
Marianne had been dismissed from caring for Arthur when he made it clear that he would not suffer her presence. It was painful to know that the only time he came alive was to hiss at her and flinch from her touch. Now Kiku took care of changes his bandages and bed sheets and Francis took over cooking duties. Alfred had to apologise profusely to her for it but she did not seem to mind.
Personally, Alfred would have done more for her but his thoughts were solely occupied with Arthur. His human-phobia extended to even his boss and countrymen. Who ever heard of a nation who hated his own people?
“S – So do you want to know what’s going on right now? I imagine it must be boring to be cooped up here all the time. Don’t worry, you’ll recover soon,” Alfred spoke for the sole purpose of filling up time and space with something, anything. Silence was too awful for him. He thought it might take away the rest of Arthur’s personality if it could.
“Well, Ludwig’s informed all the other countries and we’re all on the alert now. Security has been tightened. We think there might be a rat amongst the circle of people who know. We’re looking into that too,” he said.
Arthur made no sign of hearing him.
Alfred straightened on his chair, trying not to fidget too much. Arthur always told him off for fidgeting during world meetings but now he seemed not even to notice. “Ah, don’t worry. We’ll sort this out soon enough; I am a hero after all!” he forced a laugh. Yes, he was a hero so he could fix this. He could do anything. He could even save Arthur, right?
Again, there was no reply but Arthur turned his head to the window again as though bored of listening to Alfred’s words.
Alfred leaned forward, nudging Arthur’s arm a little. “What do you think we should do?” he smiled, hoping this would at least engage him in conversation. He was tired of talking to walls.
He was tired, but heroes were not supposed to get tired. They could do anything. They could save Arthur. That was what Alfred wanted to do. He wanted to lean forward and press his lips against Arthur’s ear and whisper; ‘I’ll save you.’
Only he did not. He could not move much whenever he was in the white room. If he did, he was afraid he would shatter something and then there really would be nothing left. Gathering his courage, he placed a hand on the bed and leaned forward, though not far enough to touch Arthur’s face.
GFRBLE. UPDATE. YAY. Also. No, I don't think anyone saw you de-anon...not that I would mind knowing who you are so I could st-err...friend you... XD But, man oh man. I did not see this hatred of humans coming! NOT AT ALL. SHOCK. HORROR. AND INTRIGUE. Oh yes, I am very, very, very interested in this...YOU SPOIL US ANON!
Interesting reaction. Extreme, but some what rational. One of the humans he knew personally completely betrayed him. Looking forward to the next chapter!!
... *wibbles* ;A; Poor Arthur~! Anon wishes for more, so anon can see Arthur get better, because he can't stay like this forever, he just can't, and *shot* I'll shut up now.
Please tell me, he wanted to beg. Look at me. Please tell what I have to.
“Y – You’re not asleep are you? Don’t tell me I’m that boring!” he feigned laughter, reclining back into his chair. His shoulders slumped.
Finally, Arthur turned his head and looked at him. He was not sure whether he preferred to be gazed upon or not.
“Arthur...”
A sudden knock startled him. Francis poked his head around the side, the surprise at on his face was false; it was common knowledge that Alfred spent almost twenty-four hours a day in Arthur’s company.
“Alfred, can we talk?” he asked, gesturing for him to follow.
Alfred rose. “I’ll be right back,” he assured Arthur, though his smile faltered when he thought that he would not really care either way. Gritting his teeth, he followed Francis out of the door, softly closing it behind him.
“What is it?” he asked as soon as they stepped into the hallway. The emptiness gave it a cold sheen and Alfred made a mental note to buy a rug or something to keep away the chill.
Francis unfolded his arms, sighing with exasperation. “Nothing, mon ami, I just thought I would throw you a line,” he said and left Alfred standing there in confusion.
Yet it was no really confusion that rooted him to the spot but realisation. If he stayed in that room for any longer, he was sure that he would be crushed by it.
XX
“We need to do something about Arthur.”
Uneasy silence pervaded. In the meeting room, one could have heard a pin drop.
Yao was the first to speak up. “I’ve brought some specialists with me aru, but...”
“...They’re human,” Ludwig guessed and Yao nodded grimly. Alfred had explained Arthur’s new temperament and there was not a snowflakes chance in hell he would endure the presence of a human let alone their ‘help.’
“Can’t you do anything?” Alfred stressed. He would have said that he was desperate except that he was a ridiculous optimist and even now he held onto the futile hope that things would somehow turn out alright.
Yao sighed.
XX
Alfred wondered if he was some sort of masochist for spending all his time with Arthur as he did. No matter how much it pained him, no matter how depressed he felt afterwards, he would always flutter back to the white room like a moth hopelessly attracted to a candle flame no matter how it singed his wings.
If there was anything positive to be reported amongst the lack of progress and the confusion, at least Arthur’s wounds were healing nicely. With Kiku changing his bandages and Yao mixing medicines, he would soon be back into perfect shape. Physically, that was.
“So Matthew said he’s flying here soon,” Alfred tried to put some enthusiasm in his voice despite his utter conviction that Matthew would not be able to do a thing. He mentally reprimanded himself for such a thought. When did he become so paranoid?
Arthur’s apathetic “Oh?” was more response than he had managed to wring out of him in days.
“Yeah, I’m sure you’ll appreciate more intelligent conversation,” he laughed lightly, hoping it did not sound too strained. “But that’s not true, is it? Between me and Matt you like me more, come on, admit it!” he nudged Arthur, hoping to goad a better response from him.
However, Arthur refused to take the bait and remained silent. Not to be deterred, Alfred continued. He was not the type to give up so easily.
“You know, you always like to call me an ungrateful brat. I’m sorry about that. Sorry I didn’t turn out better...but, you know, I did stick around for all those years despite all those disgusting scones of yours!”
There. A jab at Arthur’s cooking always managed to touch a nerve yet this time Arthur did not so much as flinch. Where was the furrowing of eyebrows, the indignant scowl that would cross his face, the flash of anger sparking in his eyes? At this point, Alfred would have been grateful if he called him an ‘insufferable git’ and whacked him over the head.
“Arthur,” Alfred dared place a hand over his, hoping to awaken him with his touch. “Arthur...are you listening to me?”
When he was young, before he had sought independence, all he would have to do is get a little teary-eyed for Arthur to come rushing to him, sweeping him up into his arms. When he was older, he would move around noisily, doing everything in exaggeration so that it was impossible for Arthur to ignore.
This is something Alfred was not used to. He was gentle, he was obnoxious, he jabbed, he goaded, he pleaded and begged but nothing could coax a lively response - or even a response at all - from Arthur.
“Arthur!” Alfred shook his arm.
Arthur, that movie was scary let me sleep with you tonight!
“Say something.”
Arthur looked at him but his mouth would not move.
“Hey, say something. Call me an idiot like you always do. You can yell at me if you want. You can even get angry at me...Hey, come on...” he shook him, harder this time. “Tell me I’m stupid. Tell me I’m a brat! Tell me you hate me even! Just - ” Alfred’s voice faltered, threatening to break. He could not take this anymore. He flung his arms around Arthur’s shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug. “Just do something!” he cried.
“...Alfred.” A slow response.
“Yes?” he asked, almost giddy with relief.
“You’re crushing me. Let go.”
Hope soared and came crashing down. Alfred could fel it shatter into a million pieces, each one a shard into his heart.
“S – Sorry,” he reluctantly released him, returning to his chair.
“Alfred,” Arthur pointed to his face.
It was not until then did he realise that his eyes were a little wet around the corners. He blinked in confusion and felt them rolling down his cheeks. “Ah!” he hastily rose his arm to wipe them away. “O – oh. I must have gotten a little worked up. Dust in my eye. Um...dammit, it’s really gotten in there! Don’t worry, it’ll stop soon. It’ll stop. It’ll stop.”
Alfred scrubbed his face and laughed, assuring Arthur that it was just a little dust. Not to worry, he would not go blind. It would stop soon.
Only it did not.
The door burst open while he was still trying to regain his composure. Alfred was almost sure that it was Francis here to ‘rescue’ him again but instead Kiku leaned against the door frame, panting heavily.
“Alfred, please come quickly, it’s an emergency!” he cried.
“But - ”
“It’s an emergency!” he practically pushed him out of the door. Alfred had never seen him so flustered or so forceful. It was unlike the usually reserved Kiku to be so forward as to grab his hand, practically dragging him down the hallway.
“What’s going on?” Alfred asked as soon as they reached the holding room. He knew that this was where they were keeping the prisoners for the moment.
Ludwig and Yao were already crowding around the entrance with Feliciano desperate trying to peek over their shoulders by hopping from one foot to the other and Francis leaning against the wall with a look of distaste. They turned when Alfred approached, giving him enough space to squeeze through as if to say; ‘take a look for yourself.’
The captive was dead.
Alfred did not have to bend down to check the man’s pulse to know that it was already too late. That once arrogant, stubborn man’s face was twisted with fear, eyes open and glazed, blood running down his forehead.
Ludwig cleared his throat but before he could say something a piercing scream jolted them all from their positions.
“Ve, isn’t that Marianne’s voice?”
Something cold ran down Alfred’s spine. The source of that scream had come from down the hallway and down the hallway there was only...
“Arthur!” He pushed Yao and Ludwig out of the way, dearly praying that his fears were irrational.
Naver stop writing dear Anon *_* You did very well on this fic, I must admitt that the subject seems to me to be rather difficult, one can easily make it very cliche. But here everyone seems to be perfectly in character (especially Alfred ;n; I'm so sorry for him). Thanks for writing it!
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Re: If you find me...[7/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-09 08:42 am (UTC)(link)A wave of relief flooded him. Alfred sighed, almost collapsing onto his seat. After that brief panic attack, everything seemed to be okay. Arthur looked weary and thin but there no longer seemed to be any immediate danger.
“How are you feeling? Do you want anything?” he asked, laying aside the basin.
At first, Arthur did not respond. His mouth opened to speak but no sound came out. His lips moved, testing his voice until he could finally produce a word. “I...”
“What’s wrong?” Alfred leaned forward, worried.
“I...” he struggled, swallowed, holding a hand close to his throat. “I’m...okay,” he rasped.
Had this been any other time, any other day, Alfred would have snorted; ‘You’re obviously not, idiot,’ but one glance down at Arthur’s open shirt, at the bandages wrapped around his chest and arms and the bruises far below made him a little more tactful.
“Ah...that’s a relief! You gave us a real scare back there and you’ve been asleep for three days! For a second I thought that - ” Alfred laughed so that he would not have to complete his sentence. “A – Anyway, how about some food? You think you can handle soup or something?” he asked, mentally kicking himself when he heard his voice tremble. He was too honest. He was terrible at feigning cheerfulness.
Arthur bowed his head, mumbling something almost inaudible.
“What was that?” Alfred leaned down.
“N...no. No soup,” he muttered wearily.
Alfred straightened, unsure of what to say next. A frown creased his lips. It was not like Arthur to be so subdued but, as he told himself, he had only just woken up. He was still injured and probably drowsy too. He would be okay after he had recovered a bit and, hopefully, gotten something into his stomach.
“You’re still tired. Get some rest. I’ll stay here if you want,” he whispered, placing a hand over Arthur’s he could not help but notice that he flinched as their skin came into contact, just a little bit, before relaxing.
Alfred was not sure if he should make a joke about it. He reached his other hand up to ruffle that sandy hair, hesitated, withdrew his hand, but then bit his lip and decided to take the plunge. Thankfully, when his fingers touched the first strands of hair, Arthur did not protest.
Yet, even so, Alfred could not help suppress the misgivings he felt inside of him.
XX
“You’re not doing it right, aru! Let me have him. Let’s see how long he lasts under Chinese water torture!”
“By all means. I’m getting tired of dealing with such a stubborn customer.”
Alfred paused to listen to voices echoing down the hall. Ever since Yao had flown in from China, it felt as if the pace of things had stepped up a little. They were still trying to trace the source of the possible information leak and the interrogation had spread to the lower ranks of pirates, although it soon became clear that they did not know much. Despite this though, their main suspect was remaining as stubbornly tight-lipped as usual.
Maybe it would be better if he just...
“Master Jones!”
Alfred turned around to see the maid rushing towards him, bearing a heavy tray laden with steaming soup and thick bread. “Marianne? Is something wrong?”
She stopped before him, gasping for breath. “I’m worried about our patient, sir. He hasn’t eaten anything since he woke up and he still refuses food. It’s like he’s trying to starve himself to death!”
Something inside of him wrapped its fingers around his hurt and squeezed.
“Give me that. I’ll deal with it,” he said softly, taking the tray from Marianne’s arms.
“Master Jones!” she halted him as he made his steady way towards Arthur’s room.“I’m worried that...well I suppose you’ll see for yourself.”
Though he did not like the way she shook her head, Alfred simply nodded sombrely, and continued his way towards the white room.
Oh Yao...xD and ohhh Arthur and Alfred Dx
(Anonymous) 2009-05-09 10:05 am (UTC)(link)I smiled at Yao......lets see how long thay last >:)
WHAT's WRONG WITH ARTHUR!?!?!?!?!
F5 F5 F5 F5 F5 F5 F5 F5 F5 F5 F5 F5 F5 F5 F5 F5 F5 F5 F5 F5 F5 F5 F5 F5
Re: If you find me...[7/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-09 10:18 am (UTC)(link)FEAR CHINA AND HIS WATER TORTURE!! >D
(Anonymous) 2009-05-09 10:26 am (UTC)(link)Re: If you find me...[7/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-09 01:09 pm (UTC)(link)Re: If you find me...[7/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-09 03:38 pm (UTC)(link)Yao~ X3
OP
(Anonymous) 2009-05-09 10:33 pm (UTC)(link)Lol, Yao is hilarious~ xD
Re: If you find me...[7/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-10 04:38 pm (UTC)(link)Re: If you find me...[7/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-11 10:36 am (UTC)(link)This is just wonderful. Seriously. Like, the pirates are sick and twisted, but... they have legitimate reasons behind their attack, which is something that's rare to see in ficdom. It actually makes sense, and if nations existed in our world like they do in theirs, I could seriously imagine something like that happening. Because, honestly, there are people out there who would definitely want to 'experiment' something like that. It's not PWP, it's GENIUS D:
All the characters are great so far (I smiled when Yao came in during this part), and their moods and reactions are quite realistic. I like how Arthur's messed up, but in a more subtle way... so far. I'm seriously very anxious for the next chapter, and great kudos to you for creating a trauma fic that's both realistic and enjoyable.
Re: If you find me...[8/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-11 01:17 pm (UTC)(link)There was nothing unusual about the room at first. Arthur was now sitting up, his head turned to stare out of the window, which had been left partially open. There was nothing odd about the way he watched the curtains flutter, and yet Alfred found something painfully sad about it. He stepped inside, using his body to shut the door behind him and carefully approached the bed.
Arthur kept his gaze fixed on the curtains, not noticing, or perhaps not acknowledging, Alfred’s presence. What made him look like that? Like a bird in a cage that was too tight.
Alfred shook his head of his troubling thoughts. “Arthur!” he spoke loudly and clearly, announcing his presence. “What’s this about you not eating? Don’t try to tell me that you’re not hungry, you must be starving!”
He placed the tray on his bedside table, pushing it forward as if tempting a stray cat to eat.
Arthur spared a glance at the tray, then one at Alfred, his expression remaining thoroughly neutral.
“I’m not hungry,” he spoke in a monotone.
“Bullshit!” Alfred swore on impulse before correcting himself, keeping his anger in check. “Please eat something. You need to eat something,” he gently begged, hoping that his concern would be enough to compel him to eat. Arthur was thin, he realised as he surveyed him. He had always been a little on the skinny side but never skeletal, which would be the way he would be going if he decided to keep on refusing food.
Arthur wrinkled his nose. The first expression Alfred had seen passed over his face; it was one of disgust.
“That woman brought that to me, didn’t she? I don’t want it. Not that disgusting food a human prepared,” he said. For all his blatant displeasure, his tone still remained coldly monotonous.
“What?” Alfred stared. Surely he could not have heard that right.
“Get rid of her. I don’t want to see a human.”
Alfred smiled. This was a joke, right? There was no way a day would ever come when Arthur could speak so coldly. “Arthur what are you saying? You’re a nation, you know? Yeah, people can get really annoying but you – we – we live for our people.”
His smile dropped when Arthur looked at him. No, this was not a joke. He was completely serious.
Alfred swallowed, trying to recover his voice. “If I get Francis – If France makes you something, will you eat it?” he asked. Right now, the most important thing was to make sure that Arthur’s body at least was healthy. “I’ll go tell him to cook you something. Don’t worry, there won’t be any snails in it,” he laughed uneasily
His exit could not have been any quicker and Arthur did not seem to mourn the loss of his company. He simply leaned against the pillows propped up behind him and stared through the window again.
Once out of the room Alfred finally let his shaky composure fall to pieces. He ran a hand through his hand as he wondered just how this had happened. He was at an utter loss as to what was going on or what would happen now.
“Master Jones, was he okay? I’m so scared that he’ll end up starving!” He looked up to see Marianne’s worried face peeking at him.
Alfred bit his lip. Marianne had no notion of who they really were and even if she had known he could not bring himself to tell her the truth; that the person she had been caring for while unconscious despised her.
“...No, don’t worry, he was just being stubborn.”
Marianne sighed and smiled. “That’s a relief! Well then, Master, I have corridors to clean.”
“Thanks for all your hard work,” he whispered and waved at her as she went.
As soon as she was gone he punched the wall, ignoring the sharp sting of pain that raced down his knuckles. Even a hero needed to punch something every now and then lest they exploded with frustration. Therefore, Alfred buried his fist into the unsympathetic wall and sorry for the pieces of plaster Marianne would have to sweep from the floor.
Re: If you find me...[9/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-11 01:31 pm (UTC)(link)Arthur sat pointedly still, only moving when it was absolutely necessary and, even then, only at bare minimum. There was no longer any life in his eyes, as if everything had been drained out of him the day he woke up in this bleak world. His colour was gone, evaporating into the whiteness of the walls. There was nothing left.
“I’m not hungry,” he whispered.
Alfred tried not to look hurt. “Please eat it!” he scooped a spoonful of thick soup, pushing towards Arthur’s mouth the way one would coax a baby to eat.
Reluctantly, he took the spoon from Alfred’s grip, their fingers brushing ever so slightly, and swallowed a mouthful.
Alfred watched his slow, methodical way of eating. He did not savour the food, but ate it with the grim determination of a soldier given an order to march. If he was not there to watch over him, he doubted that Arthur would even bother to continue eating.
Marianne had been dismissed from caring for Arthur when he made it clear that he would not suffer her presence. It was painful to know that the only time he came alive was to hiss at her and flinch from her touch. Now Kiku took care of changes his bandages and bed sheets and Francis took over cooking duties. Alfred had to apologise profusely to her for it but she did not seem to mind.
Personally, Alfred would have done more for her but his thoughts were solely occupied with Arthur. His human-phobia extended to even his boss and countrymen. Who ever heard of a nation who hated his own people?
“S – So do you want to know what’s going on right now? I imagine it must be boring to be cooped up here all the time. Don’t worry, you’ll recover soon,” Alfred spoke for the sole purpose of filling up time and space with something, anything. Silence was too awful for him. He thought it might take away the rest of Arthur’s personality if it could.
“Well, Ludwig’s informed all the other countries and we’re all on the alert now. Security has been tightened. We think there might be a rat amongst the circle of people who know. We’re looking into that too,” he said.
Arthur made no sign of hearing him.
Alfred straightened on his chair, trying not to fidget too much. Arthur always told him off for fidgeting during world meetings but now he seemed not even to notice. “Ah, don’t worry. We’ll sort this out soon enough; I am a hero after all!” he forced a laugh. Yes, he was a hero so he could fix this. He could do anything. He could even save Arthur, right?
Again, there was no reply but Arthur turned his head to the window again as though bored of listening to Alfred’s words.
Alfred leaned forward, nudging Arthur’s arm a little. “What do you think we should do?” he smiled, hoping this would at least engage him in conversation. He was tired of talking to walls.
He was tired, but heroes were not supposed to get tired. They could do anything. They could save Arthur. That was what Alfred wanted to do. He wanted to lean forward and press his lips against Arthur’s ear and whisper; ‘I’ll save you.’
Only he did not. He could not move much whenever he was in the white room. If he did, he was afraid he would shatter something and then there really would be nothing left. Gathering his courage, he placed a hand on the bed and leaned forward, though not far enough to touch Arthur’s face.
“Wh – What should I do?” he whispered.
There was no reply.
Re: If you find me...[9/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-11 02:58 pm (UTC)(link)Re: If you find me...[9/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-11 03:27 pm (UTC)(link)Interesting reaction. Extreme, but some what rational. One of the humans he knew personally completely betrayed him. Looking forward to the next chapter!!
Goes back to checking this every few hours.
OP
(Anonymous) 2009-05-12 05:21 am (UTC)(link)This is more serious than I thought. D8 Arthur has a pobia of humans now... what would that do to his country? OAO
I wonder how his boss is taking this...
Re: If you find me...[9/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-12 05:23 pm (UTC)(link)thanks for the update, anxiously awaiting more
Re: If you find me...[9/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-12 09:24 pm (UTC)(link)Poor Arthur~!
Anon wishes for more, so anon can see Arthur get better, because he can't stay like this forever, he just can't, and *shot* I'll shut up now.
Re: If you find me...[9/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-13 07:41 am (UTC)(link)good job writer anon! Alfred's pleading makes me sad ;_;
Re: If you find me...[10/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-13 09:41 am (UTC)(link)“Hey, Arthur...what should I do?”
Please tell me, he wanted to beg. Look at me. Please tell what I have to.
“Y – You’re not asleep are you? Don’t tell me I’m that boring!” he feigned laughter, reclining back into his chair. His shoulders slumped.
Finally, Arthur turned his head and looked at him. He was not sure whether he preferred to be gazed upon or not.
“Arthur...”
A sudden knock startled him. Francis poked his head around the side, the surprise at on his face was false; it was common knowledge that Alfred spent almost twenty-four hours a day in Arthur’s company.
“Alfred, can we talk?” he asked, gesturing for him to follow.
Alfred rose. “I’ll be right back,” he assured Arthur, though his smile faltered when he thought that he would not really care either way. Gritting his teeth, he followed Francis out of the door, softly closing it behind him.
“What is it?” he asked as soon as they stepped into the hallway. The emptiness gave it a cold sheen and Alfred made a mental note to buy a rug or something to keep away the chill.
Francis unfolded his arms, sighing with exasperation. “Nothing, mon ami, I just thought I would throw you a line,” he said and left Alfred standing there in confusion.
Yet it was no really confusion that rooted him to the spot but realisation. If he stayed in that room for any longer, he was sure that he would be crushed by it.
XX
“We need to do something about Arthur.”
Uneasy silence pervaded. In the meeting room, one could have heard a pin drop.
Yao was the first to speak up. “I’ve brought some specialists with me aru, but...”
“...They’re human,” Ludwig guessed and Yao nodded grimly. Alfred had explained Arthur’s new temperament and there was not a snowflakes chance in hell he would endure the presence of a human let alone their ‘help.’
“Can’t you do anything?” Alfred stressed. He would have said that he was desperate except that he was a ridiculous optimist and even now he held onto the futile hope that things would somehow turn out alright.
Yao sighed.
XX
Alfred wondered if he was some sort of masochist for spending all his time with Arthur as he did. No matter how much it pained him, no matter how depressed he felt afterwards, he would always flutter back to the white room like a moth hopelessly attracted to a candle flame no matter how it singed his wings.
If there was anything positive to be reported amongst the lack of progress and the confusion, at least Arthur’s wounds were healing nicely. With Kiku changing his bandages and Yao mixing medicines, he would soon be back into perfect shape. Physically, that was.
“So Matthew said he’s flying here soon,” Alfred tried to put some enthusiasm in his voice despite his utter conviction that Matthew would not be able to do a thing. He mentally reprimanded himself for such a thought. When did he become so paranoid?
Arthur’s apathetic “Oh?” was more response than he had managed to wring out of him in days.
“Yeah, I’m sure you’ll appreciate more intelligent conversation,” he laughed lightly, hoping it did not sound too strained. “But that’s not true, is it? Between me and Matt you like me more, come on, admit it!” he nudged Arthur, hoping to goad a better response from him.
However, Arthur refused to take the bait and remained silent. Not to be deterred, Alfred continued. He was not the type to give up so easily.
“You know, you always like to call me an ungrateful brat. I’m sorry about that. Sorry I didn’t turn out better...but, you know, I did stick around for all those years despite all those disgusting scones of yours!”
There. A jab at Arthur’s cooking always managed to touch a nerve yet this time Arthur did not so much as flinch. Where was the furrowing of eyebrows, the indignant scowl that would cross his face, the flash of anger sparking in his eyes? At this point, Alfred would have been grateful if he called him an ‘insufferable git’ and whacked him over the head.
Re: If you find me...[11/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-13 09:43 am (UTC)(link)When he was young, before he had sought independence, all he would have to do is get a little teary-eyed for Arthur to come rushing to him, sweeping him up into his arms. When he was older, he would move around noisily, doing everything in exaggeration so that it was impossible for Arthur to ignore.
This is something Alfred was not used to. He was gentle, he was obnoxious, he jabbed, he goaded, he pleaded and begged but nothing could coax a lively response - or even a response at all - from Arthur.
“Arthur!” Alfred shook his arm.
Arthur, that movie was scary let me sleep with you tonight!
“Say something.”
Arthur looked at him but his mouth would not move.
“Hey, say something. Call me an idiot like you always do. You can yell at me if you want. You can even get angry at me...Hey, come on...” he shook him, harder this time. “Tell me I’m stupid. Tell me I’m a brat! Tell me you hate me even! Just - ” Alfred’s voice faltered, threatening to break. He could not take this anymore. He flung his arms around Arthur’s shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug. “Just do something!” he cried.
“...Alfred.” A slow response.
“Yes?” he asked, almost giddy with relief.
“You’re crushing me. Let go.”
Hope soared and came crashing down. Alfred could fel it shatter into a million pieces, each one a shard into his heart.
“S – Sorry,” he reluctantly released him, returning to his chair.
“Alfred,” Arthur pointed to his face.
It was not until then did he realise that his eyes were a little wet around the corners. He blinked in confusion and felt them rolling down his cheeks. “Ah!” he hastily rose his arm to wipe them away. “O – oh. I must have gotten a little worked up. Dust in my eye. Um...dammit, it’s really gotten in there! Don’t worry, it’ll stop soon. It’ll stop. It’ll stop.”
Alfred scrubbed his face and laughed, assuring Arthur that it was just a little dust. Not to worry, he would not go blind. It would stop soon.
Only it did not.
The door burst open while he was still trying to regain his composure. Alfred was almost sure that it was Francis here to ‘rescue’ him again but instead Kiku leaned against the door frame, panting heavily.
“Alfred, please come quickly, it’s an emergency!” he cried.
“But - ”
“It’s an emergency!” he practically pushed him out of the door. Alfred had never seen him so flustered or so forceful. It was unlike the usually reserved Kiku to be so forward as to grab his hand, practically dragging him down the hallway.
“What’s going on?” Alfred asked as soon as they reached the holding room. He knew that this was where they were keeping the prisoners for the moment.
Ludwig and Yao were already crowding around the entrance with Feliciano desperate trying to peek over their shoulders by hopping from one foot to the other and Francis leaning against the wall with a look of distaste. They turned when Alfred approached, giving him enough space to squeeze through as if to say; ‘take a look for yourself.’
The captive was dead.
Alfred did not have to bend down to check the man’s pulse to know that it was already too late. That once arrogant, stubborn man’s face was twisted with fear, eyes open and glazed, blood running down his forehead.
Ludwig cleared his throat but before he could say something a piercing scream jolted them all from their positions.
“Ve, isn’t that Marianne’s voice?”
Something cold ran down Alfred’s spine. The source of that scream had come from down the hallway and down the hallway there was only...
“Arthur!” He pushed Yao and Ludwig out of the way, dearly praying that his fears were irrational.
Re: If you find me...[11/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-13 10:28 am (UTC)(link)sjkadhsahdjkashdkja
HOLY CRAP ARTHUR YOUR BEING TOO COLD!!!!!!!
Alfred!! *hugs Alfred*
Re: If you find me...[11/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-13 12:37 pm (UTC)(link)Cliff hanger!?! Blast!
Re: If you find me...[11/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-13 04:47 pm (UTC)(link)You did very well on this fic, I must admitt that the subject seems to me to be rather difficult, one can easily make it very cliche. But here everyone seems to be perfectly in character (especially Alfred ;n; I'm so sorry for him).
Thanks for writing it!
Re: If you find me...[11/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-13 08:42 pm (UTC)(link)*F5s liek mad*
OP
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(Anonymous) 2009-05-12 09:26 pm (UTC)(link)(I'm up to 37, but I just started last night.)
Re: If you find me...[7/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-05-20 09:56 pm (UTC)(link)And this is BRILLIANT. Truly, truly brilliant.
(reCAPTCHA= South gayety wtf?)