[Fic] Titanic AU : At the Ship's Stern
Title: At the Ship's Stern
Characters/Pairings: USUK, Switzerland, France, other background people, Prussia, mentions of England/Liechtenstein
Rating/Warnings: PG-13, attempted suicide, blatant ripoff.
Summary: Titanic AU. When it all becomes too much and Arthur tries to take his own life, Alfred comes to his rescue in more ways than one.
A/N: So does anyone remember that Titanic AU I wrote for Summer Camp? No? Well I did, and this is a continuation of that, sort of. It actually takes place before that scene. Every now and then I may get an urge to take a scene from the Titanic movie and Hetaliaize it into this AU. Because its based on what I feel like doing, the chapters will be out of order, but I assume most of you have seen the movie anyway and know what's going on.
“Mr. Kirkland, I’ve heard about your recent engagement. Allow me to offer you my congratulations.”
Arthur forced a smile on his face. He’d gotten very good at appearing happy and excited whenever his impending marriage was brought up, “Yes, thank you.”
“Miss Zwingli is a lovely young lady,” he went on, some very wealthy gentleman from America that Arthur should probably know but can’t be bothered to remember right now, “Quite a catch too.”
“Yes, a lovely girl,” Francis Bonnefoy smirked, “Although I am surprised your parents approved of such a marriage. They are, after all, very traditional.”
Arthur’s smile became more of a grimace, but that was alright, because it was Francis and everyone knew that the Kirklands and the Bonnefoys got along like cats and dogs. He could easily blame it on that. “We were, able to convince them. After all, the marriage is mutually beneficial and we are very much in love,” maybe if he said it enough times he’d start believing it.
He risked a quick look over the men’s shoulders to find that Vash, talking with another group of distinguished gentlemen about money issues, was giving him the warning look again, the reminder that he was watching very, very closely and if Arthur slipped up even the slightest he would have no qualms with ruining everything.
“Ah, love,” Francis was saying, but Arthur had more than mastered the art of drowning him out, “the answer to many a puzzle, is it not?”
“Quite,” suddenly the air felt thinner, pressurized, and Arthur couldn’t spend one more moment in that room with those men, “If you would excuse me gentlemen, I am in need of some air.”
They let him go without much of a fuss, and Arthur felt Vash’s eyes follow him as he left the closed in cabin. As soon as he was out on deck in the fresh sea air he bolted, running as far away from them, from his problems, from himself, as he could.
There was nobody in his life he could talk to, no one who understood. Everyone would rather dress him up and parade him around like some sort of pet, the perfect son, brother, husband, whatever they needed him to be. Meanwhile he had to hide everything, who he really was under all the suits and the top hats and the posturing, what he really felt about the girls his parents paraded in front of him and the servant boys he tried so hard not to look at, in order to please them. And he just let it happen.
And now it was all becoming too much for him to handle. He was going to be married, and poor Lili was going to have to live with his oddities, his urges. He could never be the proper husband she needed.
Arthur’s frantic running had brought him to the back of the ship. He stopped to catch his breath on one of the benches as his eyes roamed over the railings on the very back of the large ocean liner, the only thing standing between him and the water below. Suddenly an idea struck him, a solution to all his problems, and he slowly made his way over to the railings. Determined Arthur hoisted himself up and over, carefully lowering himself on the other side and clung onto the railing as he leaned out over the dark water. Now there was nothing but air and his grip on the metal behind him between him and the cold water below.
“Don’t do it,” Arthur turned to find a man with the bluest eyes he’d ever seen staring back at him behind a pair of wire rimmed glasses, concerned about the wellbeing of some stranger. He could tell by one sweep of his clothes and his ruffled blonde hair that he was from steerage, but his hand was still held out in an offering, trying to coax him back from the edge.
“Stay back!” he barked at him instead, “Don’t come any closer!”
The stranger ignored his warning and crept closer, “C’mon, just give me your hand and I’ll pull you back over.”
“No! Stay where you are!” Arthur ground his teeth and tightened his grip on the railing as he shouted, “I mean it! I’ll, I’ll let go!”
The man took a final drag from his cigarette and motioned towards the ocean with it. Arthur allowed him to take the few steps he needed to reach the railings and throw it overboard, and he tried not to notice how he didn’t back away again, instead placing his hands nonchalantly in his pockets as if he was simply having a polite conversation about the weather inside of trying to talk someone out of killing themselves.
“No you won’t,” he said simply, as if he already knew all of the answers and was merely waiting for Arthur to catch up.
“What do you mean no I won’t?” Arthur was more insulted than anything, “Don’t presume to tell me what I will and will not do, you don’t know me!”
“Well, you would’ve done it already.”
Arthur blinked, but rather than admit the stranger was right, he growled, “You’re just, you’re distracting me! Go away!”
“I can’t,” he shook his head, “I’m involved now. If you let go I’m gonna have to jump in there after you,” he said as he removed his outer jacket.
“Don’t be absurd,” Arthur said as the strange reached for his boots, fully intending to follow through with his threat, “you’ll be killed.”
“I’m a good swimmer,” which was more than Arthur could say.
“The, the fall alone would kill you,” despite having just met, he really didn’t want this kind stranger to die in an attempt to save him.
“It would hurt, not saying it wouldn’t,” he finished, removing his left boot and shrugging as he moved to work on the right, “To be honest, I’m more concerned about that water being so cold…”
Arthur looked back towards the ocean. Of course, he knew that he would drown if he didn’t snap his neck on impact with the water, but the thought of freezing while the air was sucked out of his lungs was an unpleasant thought, “How cold?”
“Freezing,” Arthur turned back to see the man looking at him with intense concentration, “maybe a couple of degrees over,” he removed his other boot and stood up straight again, hands back in his pockets, “You ever been to Wisconsin?”
Arthur looked at him like he’d gone insane, “What? What’s that?”
“It’s a state in the US, in the Midwest. It’s where I’m from,” he nodded and smiled a little, “They have some of the coldest winters around there. I grew up near this town called Chippewa Falls, and when I was a kid, me and my father would go ice fishing out on Lake Wissota. Ice fishing is when you-”
“I know what ice fishing is!” Arthur snapped, causing him to recoil a bit.
“Sorry,” he held up his hands in defense, “you just seem like more of an indoor kind of guy is all. Anyway, I fell through some thin ice, and I’m telling you,” he leaned forward, and Arthur wondered when he got that close, “water that cold, like right down there, it hits you like a thousand knives stabbing you all over your body. You can’t breathe, you can’t think, at least not about anything but the pain,” he paused, seemed to think about something for a moment, before shaking it off, “Which is why I’m not looking forward to jumping in there after you.” The man sighed and took off his other jacket, tossing it on top of his boots.
They stood there for a moment, neither moving, before he said, “I guess I’m kinda hoping you’ll come back over the rail and get me off the hook here.”
“You,” Arthur ground his teeth and turned back to the water, “You’re just, you’re crazy!”
“That’s what everyone says,” he chuckled and took another step forward, and he was far to close now and that is not what Arthur should be noticing right now, “But with all due respect Sir, I’m not the one hanging off the back of a ship here.
“C’mon, give me your hand,” he held out his hand in front of Arthur at an angle he could easily grab it should he so choose, “you don’t want to do this.”
The more Arthur thought about it, the more this man made sense. Whatever problems there were in his life, he would face them head on, not throw himself off a ship in a moment of weakness. He grabbed the hand and carefully turned back around so he was fully facing the stranger.
He smiled, and it somehow managed to light up his face whole face, and said, “Alfred Jones.”
“Arthur Kirkland,” he said as he managed a smile of his own.
Alfred’s smile grew as he steadied Arthur to help him back over the edge. One of the rails was wet, however, and Arthur lost his grip and slipped.
Instead of the freezing water he was expecting, Arthur felt himself stop in midair with a tug on his arm. Alfred had used his free hand to grab his wrist and was now frantically trying to pull a flailing Arthur back up to the railing.
“I’ve got you, c’mon,” he started to pull Arthur back up.
When Alfred let go of his wrist with one of his hands to make a grab at Arthur’s other hand, Arthur ended up slipping even further, letting out a shout and a cry of, “Help! Someone! Help!”
“Arthur, Arthur!” he heard Alfred shout over his own screams, “Arthur, it’s okay, I’ve got you. I’m not gonna let go,” one look in his eyes and Arthur knew that he wouldn’t, “Now pull yourself up, c’mon!”
Through their combined efforts Alfred managed to haul Arthur up over the railing. Legs feeling similary to jelly, he collapsed onto the deck and ended up dragging Alfred down on top of him. As they were both getting their bearings, Arthur heard the sounds of footsteps running towards them; his screaming must have summoned some of the crew.
“What’s all this?” he heard one of the men ask, confused, as Alfred gathered enough sense to sit up and back away from Arthur.
“This really isn’t what it looks like,” he said, slowly standing up and raising his hands.
The White Star crewmembers were having none of it though, “You stand back! And don’t move an inch!”
Arthur threw an arm across his eyes, still in shock over what just happened as embarrassment started flooding through him, the combination preventing him from reacting to anything as he got his thoughts in order. He heard someone shout for the Master of Arms as White Star crewmembers put Alfred in handcuffs and accused him of trying to mug Arthur. If only they knew the truth, he thought bitterly as other crewmembers helped him up to a bench and threw a blanket over his shoulders.
Someone had apparently called Vash, and he could hear him shouting, “This is completely unacceptable! How dare you lay a hand on Arthur Kirkland! Do you have any idea who he is?” Alfred sighed and rolled his eyes, so Vash grabbed his shirt and shook him, “Look at me, you filth!”
Alfred being yelled at that by Vash of all people brought Arthur back to reality. “Vash,” he called out as he stood and tossed the blanket off his shoulder.
“What did you think you were doing?” Vash shook him a little harder.
“Vash,” he said more forcefully. Vash turned, shocked, and Arthur stood a little taller, “Leave the boy alone. It was, just an accident.”
Vash raised his eyebrows in disbelief, “An accident?”
“Yes, a bit stupid really,” Arthur shrugged and stepped forward, “You see, I thought I saw a mermaid-”
“Mermaids Arthur?” he took small pleasure in the angry blush that spread across Vash’s cheeks. Somewhere behind him he heard Francis chuckle and he noticed Alfred grin just a little, “Really?”
“Mr. Kirkland always has such a wonderful imagination, non?” Francis said.
“Yes, well,” Arthur cleared his throat, “I obviously did not see a mermaid, but I was leaning over the edge and I slipped. I would have fallen overboard, but luckily Mr. Jones was here to save me, almost going over himself.”
“Was that the way of it?” the Master of Arms asked Alfred.
Arthur caught his eyes and silently pleaded with him to not tell what actually happened. If Alfred could do that, then maybe he could put this whole fiasco behind him, “Yeah, that’s what happened.”
Arthur smiled at him and mouthed a quick thank you as Francis said, “Well, the boy’s a hero then. Good for you, well done,” and gave him a wink before turning to Vash, “So back to our brandy then?”
Vash nodded and grabbed Arthur’s arm to lead him away, not giving Alfred a second glance, “Let’s go. We need to talk…”
“How about,” Francis said, nodding back towards Alfred, “a little something for the boy.”
Vash stopped in his tracks, grip tightening on Arthur’s arm, “Right. Gilbert, I think a twenty should do it.”
Arthur barked out a laugh, all eyes on him as he said, “Is that the going rate for saving a life these days?”
Vash’s frown deepened, “Mr. Kirkland is displeased,” he let go of Arthur and turned to face Alfred, looking him with an appraising eye as a smirk slowly formed on his face, “I’ve an idea. Perhaps you could join us for dinner tomorrow, to regale our group with your heroic tale?”
Alfred frowned, considering the proposition as he looked right at Arthur, “Sure, sounds fun.”
“Excellent. Now that that’s settled,” Vash renewed his grip on Arthur’s arm and dragged him away, as he leaned towards Francis and muttered, “This should be amusing.”
“Can I bum a smoke?” Arthur heard Alfred ask Gilbert behind him.
He heard the snap of Gilbert’s silver cigarette case and the click of a lighter before Gilbert said, “You may want to tie those.”
Arthur looked over his shoulder to see Alfred, lit cigarette in his mouth, unlit one behind his ear, kneeling down on the deck to tie his boots, “Interesting how he slipped so suddenly and you still had time to take off your jacket and shoes.”
Arthur paled as Vash dragged him around a corner and out of sight.
Characters/Pairings: USUK, Switzerland, France, other background people, Prussia, mentions of England/Liechtenstein
Rating/Warnings: PG-13, attempted suicide, blatant ripoff.
Summary: Titanic AU. When it all becomes too much and Arthur tries to take his own life, Alfred comes to his rescue in more ways than one.
A/N: So does anyone remember that Titanic AU I wrote for Summer Camp? No? Well I did, and this is a continuation of that, sort of. It actually takes place before that scene. Every now and then I may get an urge to take a scene from the Titanic movie and Hetaliaize it into this AU. Because its based on what I feel like doing, the chapters will be out of order, but I assume most of you have seen the movie anyway and know what's going on.
“Mr. Kirkland, I’ve heard about your recent engagement. Allow me to offer you my congratulations.”
Arthur forced a smile on his face. He’d gotten very good at appearing happy and excited whenever his impending marriage was brought up, “Yes, thank you.”
“Miss Zwingli is a lovely young lady,” he went on, some very wealthy gentleman from America that Arthur should probably know but can’t be bothered to remember right now, “Quite a catch too.”
“Yes, a lovely girl,” Francis Bonnefoy smirked, “Although I am surprised your parents approved of such a marriage. They are, after all, very traditional.”
Arthur’s smile became more of a grimace, but that was alright, because it was Francis and everyone knew that the Kirklands and the Bonnefoys got along like cats and dogs. He could easily blame it on that. “We were, able to convince them. After all, the marriage is mutually beneficial and we are very much in love,” maybe if he said it enough times he’d start believing it.
He risked a quick look over the men’s shoulders to find that Vash, talking with another group of distinguished gentlemen about money issues, was giving him the warning look again, the reminder that he was watching very, very closely and if Arthur slipped up even the slightest he would have no qualms with ruining everything.
“Ah, love,” Francis was saying, but Arthur had more than mastered the art of drowning him out, “the answer to many a puzzle, is it not?”
“Quite,” suddenly the air felt thinner, pressurized, and Arthur couldn’t spend one more moment in that room with those men, “If you would excuse me gentlemen, I am in need of some air.”
They let him go without much of a fuss, and Arthur felt Vash’s eyes follow him as he left the closed in cabin. As soon as he was out on deck in the fresh sea air he bolted, running as far away from them, from his problems, from himself, as he could.
There was nobody in his life he could talk to, no one who understood. Everyone would rather dress him up and parade him around like some sort of pet, the perfect son, brother, husband, whatever they needed him to be. Meanwhile he had to hide everything, who he really was under all the suits and the top hats and the posturing, what he really felt about the girls his parents paraded in front of him and the servant boys he tried so hard not to look at, in order to please them. And he just let it happen.
And now it was all becoming too much for him to handle. He was going to be married, and poor Lili was going to have to live with his oddities, his urges. He could never be the proper husband she needed.
Arthur’s frantic running had brought him to the back of the ship. He stopped to catch his breath on one of the benches as his eyes roamed over the railings on the very back of the large ocean liner, the only thing standing between him and the water below. Suddenly an idea struck him, a solution to all his problems, and he slowly made his way over to the railings. Determined Arthur hoisted himself up and over, carefully lowering himself on the other side and clung onto the railing as he leaned out over the dark water. Now there was nothing but air and his grip on the metal behind him between him and the cold water below.
“Don’t do it,” Arthur turned to find a man with the bluest eyes he’d ever seen staring back at him behind a pair of wire rimmed glasses, concerned about the wellbeing of some stranger. He could tell by one sweep of his clothes and his ruffled blonde hair that he was from steerage, but his hand was still held out in an offering, trying to coax him back from the edge.
“Stay back!” he barked at him instead, “Don’t come any closer!”
The stranger ignored his warning and crept closer, “C’mon, just give me your hand and I’ll pull you back over.”
“No! Stay where you are!” Arthur ground his teeth and tightened his grip on the railing as he shouted, “I mean it! I’ll, I’ll let go!”
The man took a final drag from his cigarette and motioned towards the ocean with it. Arthur allowed him to take the few steps he needed to reach the railings and throw it overboard, and he tried not to notice how he didn’t back away again, instead placing his hands nonchalantly in his pockets as if he was simply having a polite conversation about the weather inside of trying to talk someone out of killing themselves.
“No you won’t,” he said simply, as if he already knew all of the answers and was merely waiting for Arthur to catch up.
“What do you mean no I won’t?” Arthur was more insulted than anything, “Don’t presume to tell me what I will and will not do, you don’t know me!”
“Well, you would’ve done it already.”
Arthur blinked, but rather than admit the stranger was right, he growled, “You’re just, you’re distracting me! Go away!”
“I can’t,” he shook his head, “I’m involved now. If you let go I’m gonna have to jump in there after you,” he said as he removed his outer jacket.
“Don’t be absurd,” Arthur said as the strange reached for his boots, fully intending to follow through with his threat, “you’ll be killed.”
“I’m a good swimmer,” which was more than Arthur could say.
“The, the fall alone would kill you,” despite having just met, he really didn’t want this kind stranger to die in an attempt to save him.
“It would hurt, not saying it wouldn’t,” he finished, removing his left boot and shrugging as he moved to work on the right, “To be honest, I’m more concerned about that water being so cold…”
Arthur looked back towards the ocean. Of course, he knew that he would drown if he didn’t snap his neck on impact with the water, but the thought of freezing while the air was sucked out of his lungs was an unpleasant thought, “How cold?”
“Freezing,” Arthur turned back to see the man looking at him with intense concentration, “maybe a couple of degrees over,” he removed his other boot and stood up straight again, hands back in his pockets, “You ever been to Wisconsin?”
Arthur looked at him like he’d gone insane, “What? What’s that?”
“It’s a state in the US, in the Midwest. It’s where I’m from,” he nodded and smiled a little, “They have some of the coldest winters around there. I grew up near this town called Chippewa Falls, and when I was a kid, me and my father would go ice fishing out on Lake Wissota. Ice fishing is when you-”
“I know what ice fishing is!” Arthur snapped, causing him to recoil a bit.
“Sorry,” he held up his hands in defense, “you just seem like more of an indoor kind of guy is all. Anyway, I fell through some thin ice, and I’m telling you,” he leaned forward, and Arthur wondered when he got that close, “water that cold, like right down there, it hits you like a thousand knives stabbing you all over your body. You can’t breathe, you can’t think, at least not about anything but the pain,” he paused, seemed to think about something for a moment, before shaking it off, “Which is why I’m not looking forward to jumping in there after you.” The man sighed and took off his other jacket, tossing it on top of his boots.
They stood there for a moment, neither moving, before he said, “I guess I’m kinda hoping you’ll come back over the rail and get me off the hook here.”
“You,” Arthur ground his teeth and turned back to the water, “You’re just, you’re crazy!”
“That’s what everyone says,” he chuckled and took another step forward, and he was far to close now and that is not what Arthur should be noticing right now, “But with all due respect Sir, I’m not the one hanging off the back of a ship here.
“C’mon, give me your hand,” he held out his hand in front of Arthur at an angle he could easily grab it should he so choose, “you don’t want to do this.”
The more Arthur thought about it, the more this man made sense. Whatever problems there were in his life, he would face them head on, not throw himself off a ship in a moment of weakness. He grabbed the hand and carefully turned back around so he was fully facing the stranger.
He smiled, and it somehow managed to light up his face whole face, and said, “Alfred Jones.”
“Arthur Kirkland,” he said as he managed a smile of his own.
Alfred’s smile grew as he steadied Arthur to help him back over the edge. One of the rails was wet, however, and Arthur lost his grip and slipped.
Instead of the freezing water he was expecting, Arthur felt himself stop in midair with a tug on his arm. Alfred had used his free hand to grab his wrist and was now frantically trying to pull a flailing Arthur back up to the railing.
“I’ve got you, c’mon,” he started to pull Arthur back up.
When Alfred let go of his wrist with one of his hands to make a grab at Arthur’s other hand, Arthur ended up slipping even further, letting out a shout and a cry of, “Help! Someone! Help!”
“Arthur, Arthur!” he heard Alfred shout over his own screams, “Arthur, it’s okay, I’ve got you. I’m not gonna let go,” one look in his eyes and Arthur knew that he wouldn’t, “Now pull yourself up, c’mon!”
Through their combined efforts Alfred managed to haul Arthur up over the railing. Legs feeling similary to jelly, he collapsed onto the deck and ended up dragging Alfred down on top of him. As they were both getting their bearings, Arthur heard the sounds of footsteps running towards them; his screaming must have summoned some of the crew.
“What’s all this?” he heard one of the men ask, confused, as Alfred gathered enough sense to sit up and back away from Arthur.
“This really isn’t what it looks like,” he said, slowly standing up and raising his hands.
The White Star crewmembers were having none of it though, “You stand back! And don’t move an inch!”
Arthur threw an arm across his eyes, still in shock over what just happened as embarrassment started flooding through him, the combination preventing him from reacting to anything as he got his thoughts in order. He heard someone shout for the Master of Arms as White Star crewmembers put Alfred in handcuffs and accused him of trying to mug Arthur. If only they knew the truth, he thought bitterly as other crewmembers helped him up to a bench and threw a blanket over his shoulders.
Someone had apparently called Vash, and he could hear him shouting, “This is completely unacceptable! How dare you lay a hand on Arthur Kirkland! Do you have any idea who he is?” Alfred sighed and rolled his eyes, so Vash grabbed his shirt and shook him, “Look at me, you filth!”
Alfred being yelled at that by Vash of all people brought Arthur back to reality. “Vash,” he called out as he stood and tossed the blanket off his shoulder.
“What did you think you were doing?” Vash shook him a little harder.
“Vash,” he said more forcefully. Vash turned, shocked, and Arthur stood a little taller, “Leave the boy alone. It was, just an accident.”
Vash raised his eyebrows in disbelief, “An accident?”
“Yes, a bit stupid really,” Arthur shrugged and stepped forward, “You see, I thought I saw a mermaid-”
“Mermaids Arthur?” he took small pleasure in the angry blush that spread across Vash’s cheeks. Somewhere behind him he heard Francis chuckle and he noticed Alfred grin just a little, “Really?”
“Mr. Kirkland always has such a wonderful imagination, non?” Francis said.
“Yes, well,” Arthur cleared his throat, “I obviously did not see a mermaid, but I was leaning over the edge and I slipped. I would have fallen overboard, but luckily Mr. Jones was here to save me, almost going over himself.”
“Was that the way of it?” the Master of Arms asked Alfred.
Arthur caught his eyes and silently pleaded with him to not tell what actually happened. If Alfred could do that, then maybe he could put this whole fiasco behind him, “Yeah, that’s what happened.”
Arthur smiled at him and mouthed a quick thank you as Francis said, “Well, the boy’s a hero then. Good for you, well done,” and gave him a wink before turning to Vash, “So back to our brandy then?”
Vash nodded and grabbed Arthur’s arm to lead him away, not giving Alfred a second glance, “Let’s go. We need to talk…”
“How about,” Francis said, nodding back towards Alfred, “a little something for the boy.”
Vash stopped in his tracks, grip tightening on Arthur’s arm, “Right. Gilbert, I think a twenty should do it.”
Arthur barked out a laugh, all eyes on him as he said, “Is that the going rate for saving a life these days?”
Vash’s frown deepened, “Mr. Kirkland is displeased,” he let go of Arthur and turned to face Alfred, looking him with an appraising eye as a smirk slowly formed on his face, “I’ve an idea. Perhaps you could join us for dinner tomorrow, to regale our group with your heroic tale?”
Alfred frowned, considering the proposition as he looked right at Arthur, “Sure, sounds fun.”
“Excellent. Now that that’s settled,” Vash renewed his grip on Arthur’s arm and dragged him away, as he leaned towards Francis and muttered, “This should be amusing.”
“Can I bum a smoke?” Arthur heard Alfred ask Gilbert behind him.
He heard the snap of Gilbert’s silver cigarette case and the click of a lighter before Gilbert said, “You may want to tie those.”
Arthur looked over his shoulder to see Alfred, lit cigarette in his mouth, unlit one behind his ear, kneeling down on the deck to tie his boots, “Interesting how he slipped so suddenly and you still had time to take off your jacket and shoes.”
Arthur paled as Vash dragged him around a corner and out of sight.