[Fic] Holding Out - Part 20
So clearly, when I say "there will be one more part," I mean eventually and not like, within what would be considered an adequate span of time. Point is I finally finished this story. \o/
Title: Holding Out - Part 20: Forever
Characters: America, England, Hungary/Austria (if you squint), Romania(Vlad)/Bulgaria(Grigor), mentions of Spain
Rating/Warnings: PG13, Sorta X-men-universe crossoverish kinda sorta except I call 'mutants' 'supers' so maybe The Incredibles crossoverish kinda sorta? Point is, some people have superpowers. And it's a pseudo-police state.
Summary: Eight months after Alfred left for New York and seven after he last heard from him, Arthur gets a surprise.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19
Part 20: Forever
“Arthur?” he heard Elizaveta open the door and promptly pulled the covers over his head and rolled away, “Arthur, this is getting ridiculous. It’s been eight months since Alfred left and you’ve barely left your room in that time.”
“I don’t need to leave my room to have a fulfilling life,” he curled further into his bed, “I am perfectly content to just stay here for the rest of forever.”
Elizaveta threw the curtains open, letting the sunshine fill the room and causing Arthur to burrow further into his nest of blankets. She stormed over to her employer’s bed and yanked all the covers off in one fell swoop, leaving him startled, cold in nothing but his pajamas, and a bit put out.
“What the hell was that for?” he barked at her, the accompanying glare not phasing her in the slightest.
“You’re being melodramatic and everyone is sick of it,” she crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently on the ground, “It’s time for you to get out of bed and face the rest of your life. It’s not like Alfred died, he simply moved out. It was bound to happen eventually.”
“I don’t see why,” he threw an arm over his eyes and refused to move, “I don’t see why he had to leave.”
“Need I remind you you’re the one who let him go?” she silence her foot and raised an eyebrow, “If you really didn’t want him to leave, why didn’t you tell him to stay? If you asked him to, I’m sure he would have.”
“Come off it. You know as well as I that manipulating his emotions and forcing him into staying is no better than the Bureau forcing him wherever. If I didn’t let him go he would have eventually come to resent me and left on his own anyway.”
“Exactly. So since you let him leave and your relationship with him still, you know, exists,” she grabbed his arm and forcefully pulled him out of bed with a yelp, dragging him to and tossing him in his wardrobe, “it’s time for you to get out of bed and live the rest of your life!”
“It’s been eight months!” Arthur shouted through the wood, “Eight months and I haven’t received one letter, one phone call, one email or text! Eight months and I haven’t heard from him!” he sighed and collapsed to the floor of the wardrobe with a thud, “Even though I let him go on his own terms, he hates me…”
This was true. After Alfred left with Antonio for New York City to set up a branch of the Freedom Fighters there, he promised to call or email Arthur at least once a day, and for about a month he did. The call on that first night had lasted for five hours, but as the month wore on the calls got shorter - their last call being a mere five minutes long - and the emails shrank to barely a sentence before they too ceased. That’s when Arthur locked himself in his room, refusing to leave except for meals, eventually even having those brought up to him.
Despite that, Elizaveta knew that she and Roderich had given Arthur enough of a mourning period. She kicked the side of the wardrobe, Arthur giving out a small squeak when she did, and shouted, “Even so, you need to get over yourself. That Bastard Bat Whore of a friend of yours is here with his new boy toy, and if you you’re not downstairs fully presentable in the next thirty minutes, I’m not going to be responsible for what happens to him.”
With that she left, fully intending to follow through on her threat.
Ten minutes later, Arthur appeared in the kitchen wearing a pair of wrinkled slacks and a stained sweater vest. Roderich, Vlad, and a new face in Kirkland Manor were sitting around the table, with Elizaveta nowhere to be seen.
“Ah but Roderich, you are indeed quite charming,” Vlad was saying as he sipped his tea, “You could have any girl - or guy, I suppose - that you want. Why you put up with that horrible slut of diseased female dog’s anal regions I’ll never know.”
“Some of us don’t glare daggers and insult her as soon as we enter the room,” Roderich explained.
“Hm,” Vlad considered this point, “Well, she started it.”
“It was simultaneous from my point of view,” the new guy shrugged.
“I thought you were on my side,” Vlad whined and put his head on his shoulder.
“I am when you’re right,” he lifted a hand and started gently stroking his head, “You simply aren’t in this situation.”
“You can be so mean to me,” he sighed into the man’s neck. Arthur felt a pang of loneliness shoot through him and considered turning around and heading back upstairs to his room for the rest of his life, but Vlad had already spotted him, “Ah, Arthur my friend! I have not seen you since forever! Come meet my new special friend Grigor.”
“Ah, well, it’s nice to meet you I suppose,” Arthur greeted offhandedly.
“Likewise,” Grigor nodded.
“Oh but where is my friend Alfred?” Vlad glanced around the kitchen as if he would burst out from behind the corner at any moment, “I have not seen him either and I was hoping we could - ow! Roderich! Kicking my leg with such force is not very polite!”
Rodreich rolled his eyes as Arthur clutched his hands together, “He’s, not here anymore. He moved to New York a few months ago.”
“Oh, I see,” Vlad pondered this thought for a few moments as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a letter, “That explains why he sent you this from New York. See I thought it was a bit strange…”
“What?” Arthur blinked and stormed over, snatching the letter from his hands and opening it, opting to block out the rest of his friend’s banter and read it instead.
He held the paper in trembling hands and read:
Dear Arthur,
Sorry about the months of silence before this letter. I’ve been really busy with the Freedom Fighters, is what I want to say, and while that’s true, it’s not the main reason for cutting off contact with you for so long. I wish it was, because the real reason is not as simple, it’s not as good, and it’s not as forgivable, but please bear with me and don’t burn the letter and disown me until after you finish.
For the most part, Antonio has me doing my usual work at night and going to a normal public school during the day, keeping up the pretense that I’m a normal, average teenager. There are other Supers in school, and while the other kids constantly tease and bully them (I try to stop this when I can as non-Supery as possible), they’re still considered the lucky ones, because they’re actually allowed to get an education. The Guardian System is far more broken here then it is at home, leaving all Supers, both minors and adults, vulnerable.
Antonio’s been working hard on the legislative side of things while I’ve had to deal with the actual effects of the current system, and seeing all these Supers and how they’re treated by the people who are suppose to be protecting them, it just makes me angry. I don’t really like angry me, and I don’t like some of the things I've done when I’m that angry. Don’t worry, I haven’t killed anyone, and I’m getting better at controlling myself, but one of the reasons I’ve been so silent with you for so long is because I’ve been too ashamed. You taught me better than that and I didn’t know how to face you.
The other reason is because I am thankful. I know, two completely polar opposite reasons to stop talking to you, and shouldn’t me being thankful give me more of a reason to talk to you? Well, it’s been a bit tricky to put my emotions into words.
The Guardian System is broken, not only because it leaves the Supers vulnerable, but because they’re only vulnerable due to the stress it puts on the Guardian. They are left with the complete burden of anything their Super does wrong; even minor violations get maximum punishments. That’s why most Guardians drop their Super as soon as they step out of line, leaving them at the mercy of the Bureau, and here in New York, that’s not a pleasant fate. But you never dropped me. I know, despite the fact they could never prove anything, they still charged you for my vigilante stuff, don’t try to deny it, I saw the bills, but even so you never cut me off or forced me out on my own.
I’ve seen what’s happened to Supers who were suddenly dropped by their Guardians, because of some stupid accident that they got blamed for or because the Guardian took a lot of heat for taking in a Super and changed their mind, and it’s not pretty. If the Bureau doesn’t get their hands on you, then you’re running from them on your own, day and night, never resting. Most go mad after a while, if they can’t find a new Guardian, and what some of the desperate ones do for Guardians…it’s not pretty.
Thank you Arthur. I’m still not sure what was going through your mind when you decide to take pity on an orphaned Super being picked on that night, and perhaps I never will, but I’m thankful for it. Antonio says it was fate or destiny that crossed our paths, but I think I just got lucky. I got lucky and I found you, and through that same luck you found me.
I’m sorry Arthur, both about not writing for so long and for everything. Don’t worry though; I’m working extra hard now to be your hero again, a hero you can be proud of.
I’ll see you soon.
Love,
Alfred Kirkland
Arthur read the letter several more times, not trying to hide the tears in his eyes even though he knew the others were staring. Alfred didn’t hate him, Alfred was okay, struggling a bit it seemed, but okay, and how could he ever possibly disappoint Arthur?
But there was one thing, “What does he mean by ‘I’ll see you soon?’” he looked up to see the three faces grinning at him.
“Arthur my friend,” Vlad nodded at something behind him, “I believe this is the part where you turn around.”
Confused, Arthur did as was suggested and came face to face with Alfred, standing in the doorway, a sheepish grin on his face. He had grown since Arthur last saw him; he was now taller than him and had a pair of glasses perched on his face.
Alfred fidgeted, smile still plastered on his face as he waved, “Hi Arthur.”
“You,” he takes a tentative step forward, “You daft idiot!” Arthur ran forward and wrapped his arms tight around Alfred. After a moment of hesitation he felt him do the same, pulling him closer, “You stupid, idiotic git!”
“I’m sorry Arthur,” Alfred chuckled in his ear, “I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”
“Don’t you ever,” Arthur was most certainly not crying; he simply had something in his eye, both of them actually, and the fact that Alfred’s shirt was getting steadily soaked was merely a coincidence, “go this long without contacting me again! I thought you hated me.”
“I could never hate you,” he sighed and pulled back so they could look at each other properly, “Arthur, you’re my everything, and I don’t think I ever told you that properly.”
“My daft, silly boy,” Arthur smiled and raised his hand to cup Alfred’s face and wipe away the tears that were forming there, “don’t you know you’re mine too?”
Alfred smiled and hugged him again, and Arthur sighed, content with the moment, before he asked, “How long are you staying?”
“About a week, but things are starting to take off in New York, so as long as I’m good, Antonio says I can come back and see you at least once a month. Is, uh,” he suddenly blushed and fidgeted again, “is that alright with you?”
Seeing Alfred once a month was certainly better than the prospects he was entertaining a few moments ago, but still, Arthur grabbed his ear and tugged, “As long as you promise to keep in contact with me, I suppose its fine by me. It’s always been your choice after all.”
“I know, but,” Alfred bit his lip and looked away, blush deepening, “I missed you. I missed you so much.”
“And I you,” Arthur cupped his cheek again, smiling fondly back at him, “more than you can know.”
The two stood in the silent kitchen for a few more moments, and Arthur realized that the others had left them alone for this moment sometime ago. Gently, Arthur too his hands and lead him fully into the kitchen, smile never leaving his face.
“Welcome home, Alfred.”
Title: Holding Out - Part 20: Forever
Characters: America, England, Hungary/Austria (if you squint), Romania(Vlad)/Bulgaria(Grigor), mentions of Spain
Rating/Warnings: PG13, Sorta X-men-universe crossoverish kinda sorta except I call 'mutants' 'supers' so maybe The Incredibles crossoverish kinda sorta? Point is, some people have superpowers. And it's a pseudo-police state.
Summary: Eight months after Alfred left for New York and seven after he last heard from him, Arthur gets a surprise.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19
Part 20: Forever
“Arthur?” he heard Elizaveta open the door and promptly pulled the covers over his head and rolled away, “Arthur, this is getting ridiculous. It’s been eight months since Alfred left and you’ve barely left your room in that time.”
“I don’t need to leave my room to have a fulfilling life,” he curled further into his bed, “I am perfectly content to just stay here for the rest of forever.”
Elizaveta threw the curtains open, letting the sunshine fill the room and causing Arthur to burrow further into his nest of blankets. She stormed over to her employer’s bed and yanked all the covers off in one fell swoop, leaving him startled, cold in nothing but his pajamas, and a bit put out.
“What the hell was that for?” he barked at her, the accompanying glare not phasing her in the slightest.
“You’re being melodramatic and everyone is sick of it,” she crossed her arms and tapped her foot impatiently on the ground, “It’s time for you to get out of bed and face the rest of your life. It’s not like Alfred died, he simply moved out. It was bound to happen eventually.”
“I don’t see why,” he threw an arm over his eyes and refused to move, “I don’t see why he had to leave.”
“Need I remind you you’re the one who let him go?” she silence her foot and raised an eyebrow, “If you really didn’t want him to leave, why didn’t you tell him to stay? If you asked him to, I’m sure he would have.”
“Come off it. You know as well as I that manipulating his emotions and forcing him into staying is no better than the Bureau forcing him wherever. If I didn’t let him go he would have eventually come to resent me and left on his own anyway.”
“Exactly. So since you let him leave and your relationship with him still, you know, exists,” she grabbed his arm and forcefully pulled him out of bed with a yelp, dragging him to and tossing him in his wardrobe, “it’s time for you to get out of bed and live the rest of your life!”
“It’s been eight months!” Arthur shouted through the wood, “Eight months and I haven’t received one letter, one phone call, one email or text! Eight months and I haven’t heard from him!” he sighed and collapsed to the floor of the wardrobe with a thud, “Even though I let him go on his own terms, he hates me…”
This was true. After Alfred left with Antonio for New York City to set up a branch of the Freedom Fighters there, he promised to call or email Arthur at least once a day, and for about a month he did. The call on that first night had lasted for five hours, but as the month wore on the calls got shorter - their last call being a mere five minutes long - and the emails shrank to barely a sentence before they too ceased. That’s when Arthur locked himself in his room, refusing to leave except for meals, eventually even having those brought up to him.
Despite that, Elizaveta knew that she and Roderich had given Arthur enough of a mourning period. She kicked the side of the wardrobe, Arthur giving out a small squeak when she did, and shouted, “Even so, you need to get over yourself. That Bastard Bat Whore of a friend of yours is here with his new boy toy, and if you you’re not downstairs fully presentable in the next thirty minutes, I’m not going to be responsible for what happens to him.”
With that she left, fully intending to follow through on her threat.
Ten minutes later, Arthur appeared in the kitchen wearing a pair of wrinkled slacks and a stained sweater vest. Roderich, Vlad, and a new face in Kirkland Manor were sitting around the table, with Elizaveta nowhere to be seen.
“Ah but Roderich, you are indeed quite charming,” Vlad was saying as he sipped his tea, “You could have any girl - or guy, I suppose - that you want. Why you put up with that horrible slut of diseased female dog’s anal regions I’ll never know.”
“Some of us don’t glare daggers and insult her as soon as we enter the room,” Roderich explained.
“Hm,” Vlad considered this point, “Well, she started it.”
“It was simultaneous from my point of view,” the new guy shrugged.
“I thought you were on my side,” Vlad whined and put his head on his shoulder.
“I am when you’re right,” he lifted a hand and started gently stroking his head, “You simply aren’t in this situation.”
“You can be so mean to me,” he sighed into the man’s neck. Arthur felt a pang of loneliness shoot through him and considered turning around and heading back upstairs to his room for the rest of his life, but Vlad had already spotted him, “Ah, Arthur my friend! I have not seen you since forever! Come meet my new special friend Grigor.”
“Ah, well, it’s nice to meet you I suppose,” Arthur greeted offhandedly.
“Likewise,” Grigor nodded.
“Oh but where is my friend Alfred?” Vlad glanced around the kitchen as if he would burst out from behind the corner at any moment, “I have not seen him either and I was hoping we could - ow! Roderich! Kicking my leg with such force is not very polite!”
Rodreich rolled his eyes as Arthur clutched his hands together, “He’s, not here anymore. He moved to New York a few months ago.”
“Oh, I see,” Vlad pondered this thought for a few moments as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a letter, “That explains why he sent you this from New York. See I thought it was a bit strange…”
“What?” Arthur blinked and stormed over, snatching the letter from his hands and opening it, opting to block out the rest of his friend’s banter and read it instead.
He held the paper in trembling hands and read:
Dear Arthur,
Sorry about the months of silence before this letter. I’ve been really busy with the Freedom Fighters, is what I want to say, and while that’s true, it’s not the main reason for cutting off contact with you for so long. I wish it was, because the real reason is not as simple, it’s not as good, and it’s not as forgivable, but please bear with me and don’t burn the letter and disown me until after you finish.
For the most part, Antonio has me doing my usual work at night and going to a normal public school during the day, keeping up the pretense that I’m a normal, average teenager. There are other Supers in school, and while the other kids constantly tease and bully them (I try to stop this when I can as non-Supery as possible), they’re still considered the lucky ones, because they’re actually allowed to get an education. The Guardian System is far more broken here then it is at home, leaving all Supers, both minors and adults, vulnerable.
Antonio’s been working hard on the legislative side of things while I’ve had to deal with the actual effects of the current system, and seeing all these Supers and how they’re treated by the people who are suppose to be protecting them, it just makes me angry. I don’t really like angry me, and I don’t like some of the things I've done when I’m that angry. Don’t worry, I haven’t killed anyone, and I’m getting better at controlling myself, but one of the reasons I’ve been so silent with you for so long is because I’ve been too ashamed. You taught me better than that and I didn’t know how to face you.
The other reason is because I am thankful. I know, two completely polar opposite reasons to stop talking to you, and shouldn’t me being thankful give me more of a reason to talk to you? Well, it’s been a bit tricky to put my emotions into words.
The Guardian System is broken, not only because it leaves the Supers vulnerable, but because they’re only vulnerable due to the stress it puts on the Guardian. They are left with the complete burden of anything their Super does wrong; even minor violations get maximum punishments. That’s why most Guardians drop their Super as soon as they step out of line, leaving them at the mercy of the Bureau, and here in New York, that’s not a pleasant fate. But you never dropped me. I know, despite the fact they could never prove anything, they still charged you for my vigilante stuff, don’t try to deny it, I saw the bills, but even so you never cut me off or forced me out on my own.
I’ve seen what’s happened to Supers who were suddenly dropped by their Guardians, because of some stupid accident that they got blamed for or because the Guardian took a lot of heat for taking in a Super and changed their mind, and it’s not pretty. If the Bureau doesn’t get their hands on you, then you’re running from them on your own, day and night, never resting. Most go mad after a while, if they can’t find a new Guardian, and what some of the desperate ones do for Guardians…it’s not pretty.
Thank you Arthur. I’m still not sure what was going through your mind when you decide to take pity on an orphaned Super being picked on that night, and perhaps I never will, but I’m thankful for it. Antonio says it was fate or destiny that crossed our paths, but I think I just got lucky. I got lucky and I found you, and through that same luck you found me.
I’m sorry Arthur, both about not writing for so long and for everything. Don’t worry though; I’m working extra hard now to be your hero again, a hero you can be proud of.
I’ll see you soon.
Love,
Alfred Kirkland
Arthur read the letter several more times, not trying to hide the tears in his eyes even though he knew the others were staring. Alfred didn’t hate him, Alfred was okay, struggling a bit it seemed, but okay, and how could he ever possibly disappoint Arthur?
But there was one thing, “What does he mean by ‘I’ll see you soon?’” he looked up to see the three faces grinning at him.
“Arthur my friend,” Vlad nodded at something behind him, “I believe this is the part where you turn around.”
Confused, Arthur did as was suggested and came face to face with Alfred, standing in the doorway, a sheepish grin on his face. He had grown since Arthur last saw him; he was now taller than him and had a pair of glasses perched on his face.
Alfred fidgeted, smile still plastered on his face as he waved, “Hi Arthur.”
“You,” he takes a tentative step forward, “You daft idiot!” Arthur ran forward and wrapped his arms tight around Alfred. After a moment of hesitation he felt him do the same, pulling him closer, “You stupid, idiotic git!”
“I’m sorry Arthur,” Alfred chuckled in his ear, “I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”
“Don’t you ever,” Arthur was most certainly not crying; he simply had something in his eye, both of them actually, and the fact that Alfred’s shirt was getting steadily soaked was merely a coincidence, “go this long without contacting me again! I thought you hated me.”
“I could never hate you,” he sighed and pulled back so they could look at each other properly, “Arthur, you’re my everything, and I don’t think I ever told you that properly.”
“My daft, silly boy,” Arthur smiled and raised his hand to cup Alfred’s face and wipe away the tears that were forming there, “don’t you know you’re mine too?”
Alfred smiled and hugged him again, and Arthur sighed, content with the moment, before he asked, “How long are you staying?”
“About a week, but things are starting to take off in New York, so as long as I’m good, Antonio says I can come back and see you at least once a month. Is, uh,” he suddenly blushed and fidgeted again, “is that alright with you?”
Seeing Alfred once a month was certainly better than the prospects he was entertaining a few moments ago, but still, Arthur grabbed his ear and tugged, “As long as you promise to keep in contact with me, I suppose its fine by me. It’s always been your choice after all.”
“I know, but,” Alfred bit his lip and looked away, blush deepening, “I missed you. I missed you so much.”
“And I you,” Arthur cupped his cheek again, smiling fondly back at him, “more than you can know.”
The two stood in the silent kitchen for a few more moments, and Arthur realized that the others had left them alone for this moment sometime ago. Gently, Arthur too his hands and lead him fully into the kitchen, smile never leaving his face.
“Welcome home, Alfred.”