Past Part Fills Part 2 -- CLOSED

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Elastic people [66/?]

[(Anonymous)]

Hears it hit the floor, splatters. It’s had a while in his bag to sit. The white spilling over the floor, Arthur doesn’t even look down at where it has landed, because she is still staring down on him, hates him hates him hates him-

“Go in.”

She tells him, almost dangerously, as if it is taking everything in her to hold back, hands fisted at her sides.

“He… he asked for you.”

Arthur’s breath leaves him, now a prisoner to the very atmosphere.

“Go before I change my mind!”

He runs.

Unable to see her woodenly crouch down, and pick up the ice cream container before it can spill further.

--

Arthur had dropped his bag on the floor at the sight of Alfred’s bandaged head. He’d also broke his arm, but assures Arthur that the tall shrubs below had broken most of the fall. The doctors had informed him he was a very lucky fellow. The head injury was actually from him falling down the stairs.

“Yo-you YOU FELL DOWN THE-”

“Lower your voice will you? There are sick people here.”

Quiets.

Moves his chair directly to the side of Alfred’s bed, not scraping it for once. Alfred’s gym bag is leaning against the wall; Arthur had had to shake one of the chair’s leg from the strap, it having gotten caught on it. She must have brought it here. Left it. Arthur turns to Alfred, who gazing up at him from his propped pillow, looks like he’s about to say something doesn’t.

Arthur sits, takes Alfred’s hand in his, gazing along Alfred’s unbroken arm, thinking if I’d just gone with you-

Head sharply turning up on hearing Alfred’s shaking voice; his face is turned toward the window, away from Arthur.

“I was afraid. I was afraid when you hadn’t come yet that maybe you ran off. That you might have thought something stupid. Like He’s not coming or maybe you heard what happened to me and thought this is my fault and left, for my own good or some bullshit like that.”

Lets this sink in, deep and low, so that when Arthur may reply, relieved that’s all it was, touched- “You’re so stupid. It was me who’s been selfish to begin with. Rather than thinking, I’d left you should have been more worried that I’ll drag you out to be with me here and now, right?”

This hand that he can’t let go, Alfred intertwines their fingers- the other coming, the one in the cast coming to hold over it. Covers it, don’t see this, just them, just them- only they’ll know. From the start, one’s existence became tied to the other’s. Cut, tied again. How many times?

“Then-” Alfred tells him as Arthur reaches forward to thumb away those tears, tears that’ll be his forever, “I’ll hold you to that… take me away?”

Shudders, cries, “I’m sorry I made you wait so long, big brother.”

This heart that would not give up on now a familiar rapid beat, it’ll burst from him. This undeniable warmth is comprehensible bliss. Arthur pulls their linked hands from under Alfred’s right hand, presses them to his face, hums something happily. As Alfred had questioned desire, Arthur questions happiness, was it finally here? Was it finally his? All his? After waiting what felt like a millennia, after waiting, hoping one day to bring his most beloved home, was that waiting over? Alfred is-

“You cry too much, Arthur,” Alfred is telling him though tears are running down his face as well but unlike before vexed, frustrated how could you their tears are why don’t we?

The light barely comes in with the curtain drawn over, but Arthur knows it’s there. Knows the person here is not a lie, is not a trick, is not going to leave of his own volition, if god were to take him away right now Arthur knows Alfred will find a way back to him. For him Arthur would wait all over again, again. (And if for some reason Alfred would have to wait for him-) Bends a hand on the pillow by Alfred’s head gently, fingertips brushing by his hair, kisses it. What’s always brought him joy.

“Alfred!”

Remembers, “I brought something for you.”

Alfred turning his head very slightly, up to meet this touch, meet this proclamation.

“What is it?”

Remembers it smashing on the floor, hearing it.

Laughs, “It’s this.”