[Fanfic] Angel Feathers (one shot) Pt. 3
Title: Angel Feathers
Author/Artist:
lilflow
Genre: Supernatural/Hurt-comfort
Characters/Pairing(s): America, England, France, Canada (and others)
Rating/Warnings: T
Summary: Arthur was an angel charged with caring for the children targeted by the demons of the world, but this particular child may be the most difficult to care for yet. Angel!AU
(Continued from: part two)
•••
Alfred stopped at the entrance to the orphanage grounds. It had been a few weeks since he had been back, but the appearance of a new face there never failed to surprise him. Even more so when they were accompanied by another vaguely familiar figure sporting large white wings.
He dumped his travel bag by the gate, crossing the path until the small girl noticed him, staring up at him with big brown eyes and ceasing her playing.
The angel also stopped to watch him, but Alfred gave him nothing more than a side glance as he crouched down next to the child, giving her a bright smile instead, "Hey kiddo, what's your name?"
"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers." She mumbled, not meeting Alfred's eyes.
The angel that was with her moved forward, whispering something in the girl's ear before smiling and ushering her toward Alfred. She held out her hand, still looking a little uncomfortable, but gave her best smile, "I'm Angelique."
Alfred took her hand and giving it a quick shake, "Hi Angelique, I'm Alfred. What're you playing?"
"Francis is showing me how to make daisy chains." She smiled a little wider, lifting up a half-finished line of flowers.
"Francis, huh?" Alfred nodded at the angel.
"Yup." Angelique grinned, turned to pull the angel forward, "He's my friend."
"Why don't you go and finish your chain, Angie? Let me speak with Alfred for a while." Francis patted her head briefly, smiling as she rushed off again to look for more flowers. "She is a sweet child." He turned to Alfred, his expression hardening a little.
"I can tell." Al said, not quite meeting the angel's eyes. He wasn't sure if he was ready to see Francis again, even if several years had passed and he was twenty-one now. The last time he had seen this particular angel nothing good had come of it.
He had been travelling with a friend in Arizona at the time. Not for the first time either. And, like himself, Francis had been looking for something - someone.
"How long has she been here for?"
"Little over a week." Francis turned to watch Angelique again, "She is settling in well now, though there were some lumps and bumps at first."
"Not surprising, really." Alfred frowned, he could still remember his first few weeks in the orphanage after his parents had died and how difficult they had been at the time. "What happened?"
"From what the teachers here say, her aunt died in a car crash."
"And her parents?"
"I haven't the slightest idea." Francis admitted, shrugging at Alfred, "She had apparently been living with her aunt for as long as she can remember."
"Poor kid." Alfred sighed, "You couldn't do anything?"
"We weren't aware of her until after it happened." Francis was almost glaring at the floor, but quickly shrugged it off. "But we are now. And I am doing whatever I can to look after her."
"She'll be safe while she's here." Alfred smiled.
"And while you're here, yes." Francis gave him a stern look that wasn't unlike the ones that Alfred used to get from a certain other angel when he was younger. "For when you are not, I am here. Arthur only protected you, not this entire place."
"Yeah, yeah." Alfred laughed, he'd never taken lecturing well, "Don't get jealous though. All the kids here love me."
Francis chuckled, rolling his eyes at Alfred, "Yes, I had heard you were a Carer here now. Somehow I am not surprised."
Alfred shrugged, moving back to grab his bag again, shirking it onto his shoulder, "I love the kids and it pays for my travelling."
They stood in silence for a few moments watching Angelique pick and thread flowers together. It was a pleasant afternoon, not too hot, but warm enough for the children to play outside comfortably without having to wear too many layers.
"Where did you go this time?" Francis asked, looking over the size of Alfred's travel bag.
"Up to visit Matt in Canada." Alfred hitched the bag up again.
"Did you have any luck?"
"Not any more than the last time you saw me." He sighed, running his free hand through his hair and adjusting his new glasses. He'd broken another pair when Matt had insisted on playing hockey and had to fork out the money for yet another new pair. He needed to remember to front Matt the bill this time.
Francis nodded, "Maybe it's time to stop looking?"
"Naw." Alfred grinned. "If I stop then I'll never find him."
Francis smiled again, looking almost proud of Alfred. Despite everything that had happened that led to this point, he was still glad that after everything, Alfred had been saved.
"Francis." They turned, finding Angelique smiling up at the two of them, "I finished it." She held up the finished daisy chain, grinning at her own work.
"It is splendid, Angie." Francis beamed at her, taking the line of flowers, making a few adjustments of his own until he had fashioned it into a crown, placing it proudly on Angelique's head. "Now you look like a princess."
Angelique giggled, giving them a twirl and sat back down on the grass, starting to pick more flowers. "I was wondering," she said, looking a bit more thoughtful as she strung the flowers together, "how come Al can see you too, Francis? You said other people couldn't see you."
"Ah, well you see," Francis crouched down next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and looking back up at Alfred, "when Alfred was your age, he had an angel friend as well. Though he is not quite as special as you, flower."
Angelique giggled again, leaning against the angel while still busily threading the flower stems together. Francis stretched his wings out behind him, relaxing down onto the grass next to his charge, watching her with a soft smile that Alfred had seen before, except on the face of a different angel, and when he was much younger. He supposed this was what it had felt like when he had just met Arthur and he had finally started to feel safe again. But that was a long time ago. He just hoped that these two had a happier ending.
"There you are Angie!" All three of them jumped at the new voice, one that made Angelique cringe, Francis smirk, and Alfred gaped.
The voice he knew well enough, but it was the person it belonged to that left him in shock. The only difference was the lack of wings and robe. The rest was exactly the same, right down to the slightly too thick eyebrows.
He was Arthur.
"I was wondering where you'd gotten to." He sighed, walking up to the group. "Have you not heard us calling you?"
Angelique shook her head, her pigtails waving about her head as she did so.
"Well, never mind. It's dinner time, come along."
Angelique huffed, crossing her arms and pouting. "But Arthur-!"
'Arthur' chuckled, "If you keep doing that then your face will stick that way. Go on, poppet. Go and wash up, the others are waiting for you."
Angelique scowled, abandoning her current daisy chain in favour of grabbing Francis's hand and leading him inside. Alfred swore he saw 'Arthur' give the angel a side glance, his brows furrowing slightly at him before he turned his attention back to Alfred. "May I help you?"
Alfred started, almost forgetting that he was still standing outside the orphanage, "Oh, no. I was just heading inside."
"May I ask why?"
"Err…" Alfred stared at him for a few moments. This was Arthur, right? So why was he asking questions as if he had no idea who he was? "Because I live here."
"Oh!" 'Arthur' smacked a hand to his forehead, "You're Alfred Jones, aren't you?" Alfred nodded. "Tino said to expect you, sorry. I didn't mean to be rude."
"No sweat, but, erm, who are you?" Alfred asked, tentative for the answer. Maybe this guy just looked like Arthur. It wasn't all that unusual for people to look the same… or sound the same… or have the same name…
"Oh, I'm so sorry. I'm Arthur Kirkland." Arthur held out his hand, which Alfred shook. "Do come inside." Arthur smiled, "Tino was making sure to save you some dinner for when you got back."
"Uh, yeah." Alfred nodded, feeling more than a bit weirded out at being led inside him own home. "So, err, you a new carer or something?"
Arthur looked confused for a moment, then chuckled and shook his head, "Oh, no. I'm just staying here for a while. I'm working as a journalist and Tino and Berwald said I could stay here until my affairs were all in order. I must say, I was lucky I ran into them when I did. I'm doing an article on child care and this is just the thing I needed. I've been living in London until now and to be honest, I haven't the foggiest idea what goes where here in America. It's like waking up and putting all my clothes on back-to-front."
Alfred wasn't quite taking it in. He simply nodded vacantly when he thought he was supposed to, dropping his bag at the bottom of the hallway stairs on their way through to the kitchen.
"Al!" Alfred was snapped back to attention by something small and hairy slamming up against his legs, clinging to them a little too tightly. "Al's back!" The small boy shouted behind him into the dining room where the other children were sat at various stages through their dinner.
"Whoa, hey there, squirt." Alfred laughed, arranging himself so that he would trip over the boy and ruffled his hair, "Man, Markie, you need a haircut."
Markie pouted, scowling up at Alfred, "Why does everyone keep saying that?!"
"Because it's true." Tino emerged from the kitchen, holding another plateful of food and placing it in front of Angelique, who was now sat down with the other children. "Welcome back, Al." He smiled at Alfred trying to prise the child off his legs, plopping him back in his chair at the table, "There's some food left in the pan for you. Just don't eat it all. I want something left to eat when the rabble are done."
"Thanks Tino." Alfred grinned, giving him a quick hug as he passed on his way into the kitchen.
Berwald was stood in the kitchen, still serving up the last few plates of food. He glanced at Alfred, giving him what Alfred had learnt over the years was his equivalent of a smile, and plated up another portion, handing it over to him. "Thanks," Alfred grinned, pushing himself onto the countertop, "I'm starving."
"Aren't you always?" Tino came back through the doorway, picking up a plate and passing it back to Arthur behind him.
Alfred didn't get it. This man standing in front of him was unmistakably Arthur. The Arthur he had grown up with, been protected by, and the Arthur who had died in his arms and disappeared.
He travelled ever since he was eighteen just to find other angels who could give him some clues as to what had happened and even they had been baffled. He'd been determined to find Arthur again. But now that someone that certainly looked the same, let alone having the same mannerisms and the same name, was standing in front of him, and he just couldn't get his head around it. Especially since this Arthur didn't seem to have any idea who he was.
"Alfred?" Tino waved in front of his face, "You'll tip your food all over the floor."
"Ah! Sorry." Alfred righted his plate, shovelling in a couple of forkfuls of food in the process.
"So, how's Matthew, anyway?" Tino smiled, Al spacing out wasn't anything unusual.
"Matthew?" Arthur looked shocked, as if he had spoken without meaning to, but tried to cover it up.
"My brother." Alfred answered, swallowing his food, "He gave me something to give you, Tino. It's in my bag."
"Give it later." Berwald spoke up, moving to the door to watch the children in the next room, "Finish yer food first."
Alfred stuck his tongue out, shovelling the rest of his food into his mouth and put his plate in the sink. Tino rolled his eyes as he was passed the package from Matthew, unwrapping the litre bottle of maple syrup that he always got sent whenever Alfred went to visit his younger brother. It would keep the kids going for a while, that was for sure.
The last time Matthew had visited himself, he had tried to teach one group of the children to play hockey and had ended up breaking Alfred's first pair of glasses. Needless to say all the children now wanted to play the game and Berwald had to lock the sticks away to stop any more visits to the emergency room after the first time.
"By the way, Alfred," Tino put the pile of plates on the countertop, leaving it to whoever it was whose turn it was to do the dishes to sort them out, "we've had to lend Arthur the spare bed in your room. Angie's in the last empty room for now until she's settled enough to go in with one of the other girls. That's alright, isn't it?"
Alfred froze in the process of zipping his bag back up again, taking a few seconds to fully take in what had just been said. His fingers slipped on the zip, and he scrambled to get the bag done up and slung it over his shoulder. "S-sure!" He stammered, putting on his best grin, "No problem. Why would there be?"
"That's good, then." Tino smiled, picking up the stray child that had wandered into the kitchen after him, looking far too tired, "You two can go up and sort out your things while I get little'ns off to bed."
Alfred nodded, if a little absently, and followed Arthur out of the room. He still couldn't get his head around the situation he had apparently gotten himself into, but this is what he was now stuck with. He only wished he could at least pretend to be as calm as Arthur was.
"I did my best not to move too much around." Arthur said, sitting down on what used to be Matthew's bed. "I hope I'm not causing you any trouble."
"Nah, it's cool." Alfred looked around the room, noting where a few of his things had been moved to the side slightly so that Arthur's own possessions could fit in the room as well. He hadn't shared a room since he was fourteen, so it would take some getting used to again. Though it wasn't unusual for one of the kids to come and try to sleep in his room instead of their own bed.
He dropped his bag down on his bed, sinking onto the mattress himself, revelling in the fact that he didn't have to sleep on Matt's lumpy student sofa anymore.
"I've been wanting to ask you," Arthur spoke up, catching Alfred's attention once more, "forgive me if I'm being too nosy, but this caught my attention and I've been dying to ask you about it."
He picked a box up off the desk that Alfred recognised instantly, holding it out to him. Alfred had taken care in finding it, though it had taken some trawling through the neighbourhood yard sales until he had found something perfect, delicate, just like the contents.
Arthur opened the lid, careful not to touch the feathers that Alfred kept in the container, as though he was scared that they would break at the slightest touch. "I've never seen feathers quite like these before, and believe me I've been subjected to my fair share of bird watching. Where on earth did you get them?"
Alfred took it, turning around in his hands. He smiled down at the feathers. There was no happy way to tell the story of how he had come into possession of them, especially when he was having to tell the story to the exact look-alike of the one they had once belonged to.
"They belonged to a very dear friend of mine." He decided on, letting his fingers trace over the top few feathers. "I'd rather not talk about it."
"Oh, I'm so sorry." Arthur rushed, clapping a hand over his mouth. "I shouldn't have asked."
"Nah, that's okay." Alfred smiled across at him, "You didn't know."
"So they were important to you?" Arthur asked, turning away to adjust his pillow.
"Yeah." Alfred looked back down again. He hadn't really spoken about his Arthur to anyone before since it had happened. It was weird, if anything, after all the time that had passed. "He was the most important."
Alfred didn't really know what happened next. The box had clattered to the floor, the feathers spilling out over the carpet and under the bed. There were arms wrapped around him, a chin rested on the top of his head, and a gasp for air that he didn't know whether it was his own or not.
It was only when he felt Arthur sob again that he finally realised. This, this was his Arthur. He was here, not dead. And despite the differences, Alfred just could find it in him to care in that moment. He could only cling onto Arthur's back in return.
"You stupid, mad, perfect boy." Arthur breathed out, his voice hitching slightly in his throat. He sniffed, moving back so that he was sat next to Alfred instead of practically on top of him, though he kept hold of Alfred's hand. "How is it that, even after all this time, you are so perfect as to remember?"
"How?" Alfred couldn't think of anything else to say, he was still stunned. This was Arthur. He'd proven that, right? But, there were no wings, no signs of the angel that had practically raised Alfred. This Arthur was, by all senses of the word, human, wasn't he? "How can you possibly-?"
"I don't know myself." Arthur smiled, watching Alfred absently rubbing circles into the back of his hand. "I think… I think I was always this way. Human, I mean. There's a whole life I can remember. But I can remember my entire time with you as well. It just feels like a long dream." He leant down, picking up one of the feathers on the floor and turned it in his fingers, "I can remember the feel of these on my back, and how much it hurt to lose them all. I can remember flying and the feel of the wind when I was in the clouds. But then I can remember learning how to ride a bike back in London when I was little. It's complicated."
Alfred took the feather from him, letting it fall back down to the floor with the others. "How did you know it wasn't a dream?"
"Francis found me." Arthur almost sounded annoyed, "I suppose I should be grateful to him really, but he just won't get out of my hair. Especially now that he's looking after Angie. But he was the missing link that I needed. I'd woken up in my flat in Cheapside feeling like I'd had far too much to drink at the work party the night before, and had the strangest dream, but I couldn't quite remember it no matter how hard I tried. It went on that way for months. I kept feeling like I was missing something. I'd started seeing people that my colleagues couldn't. People that looked as though they were flying. But that couldn't be possible, could it? I felt like I was going mad. But then I saw a face that I knew, and Francis found me. And here I am."
"I saw Francis when I was travelling a couple of years ago." Alfred hummed, leaning back on the bed, "I was looking for angels, seeing what I could find out about what happens after they die. He was looking for you."
"It wasn't long after that that he found me." Arthur let out a small laugh that sounded more like exasperation. "I thought I was going bonkers, but I knew who he was and he knew every last detail of the dreams I'd been having. And I realised, well, that they weren't dreams after all." He turned to Alfred, his smile crinkling his eyes slightly, "You wear glasses now."
"Yeah." Alfred pushed them up his nose, "I guess dad's bad sight finally caught up with me. Matt wears them too."
"You're talking to each other again, then? I'm glad." Arthur had laced his fingers together, folding and unfolding his hands every few seconds. "You two need each other."
Alfred nodded, frowning slightly at the thought of when he couldn't so much as take a phone call from his little brother, never mind going and spending weeks on end in Canada with him. It suddenly dawned on him just how quickly he had gone from knowing everything about Arthur, to knowing nothing about him at all. He'd spent years with the angel. But this was someone who had lived an entirely different life. Even the angel Arthur had looked after a child before him; he'd told him stories about her when he was little. But this was completely different. This was a man, living, breathing, sitting in his room with him. He was basically a total stranger with just the memories of the time the angel had spent with Alfred. And that was, somehow, completely disorientating.
"So what now?" He found himself saying without really meaning to.
"What do you mean?" Arthur's smile slipped.
"Well…" Alfred started, not really knowing what to say next, "God, I don't know. You know everything about me, but I-" he trailed off, feeling stupid.
Arthur chuckled, leaning back on his elbows, "Arthur Kirkland. Twenty-three years old, from Kensington, London. I have a mother and father, three older brothers, and one younger. I studied Journalism and English Literature at Kingston University, and now I'm here, in America, working on a project about children's living conditions. I'm staying here until my own living arrangements have been settled, as agreed with one Tino Väinämöinen, as per our agreement when I called to give details of my project. Of course, there were other reasons by that point of my wanting to come to this particular children's home, you understand. And that basically brings us to this point." He smirked at the slightly taken aback expression of Alfred's face, "Did I leave anything out? I could go into every detail of my childhood if you'd like."
Alfred shook his head, reeling slightly from the amount of information he'd just had to take in. He'd never been very good at memorising things.
"Good." Arthur sat up again, his expression softening again. He watched Alfred's confusion for a few more moments. He could practically see the cogs turning in his head as he pieced together the information. The boy really hadn't changed. Except from that he wasn't a boy anymore. While Arthur hadn't been looking Alfred had grown up. The glasses helped of course, but he was taller, his shoulders broader, his face was more mature. Arthur suddenly had the overwhelming feeling that he was talking to a complete stranger, rather than the boy that he'd seen grow up, but had apparently missed the most important part. This Alfred was most definitely an adult.
"I thought about you all the time." Alfred finally spoke up, not looking at Arthur but his ears had turned red. "I- I didn't wanna think that you really had died. You were all I had left."
Arthur stood, the movement making Alfred look at him again, and stooped, carefully placing each feather back in the box where Alfred had kept them safe all these years. He rested his hand atop of them when he was finished, carefully closing the lid so that none of them were trapped at odd angles. He knelt in front of Alfred, placing the box on his lap, keeping one hand on it, and cupping Alfred's cheek with the other. "Don't be silly, darling." He said softly, "I never left."
Alfred took the box, pushing it to one side, pulling Arthur closer instead, wrapping his arms around him and resting his chin on his shoulder.
It was stupid that just those few words would affect him this much, but he still didn't want Arthur to see him grinning like an idiot like this.
He felt Arthur's breath hitch for a second before he turned his head and leant into the embrace, his hands coming up to cling into the back of Alfred's shirt, and he knew that Arthur must have been smiling as well.
He supposed now, after all this time, he wouldn't need his angel's feathers anymore. This was much better.
(A/N:
Hey guys! God, it's been a long time. I've literally been working on this for months, pretty much since I last updated OLaS. It's been something I've had in mind for a while and didn't really want to work on anything else until I had it out of the way. Didn't expect it to be quite this long, but there you go.
I have some offshots in mind for this after I've updated OLaS, and also gotten a highschool!AU I've got in my head started, but that one's just going to be something I work on when I feel like it. Little bits here and there.
I hope this didn't make too bad of a comeback for me. University is starting up again for me in a couple of weeks and I'll have to work on that whole heartedly as well as everything else seeing as I'm heading into my final year. Wish me luck!
Also, on a side note, I'm taking art commissions at the moment. Details are over on my deviantART as well as most of my work, if you're interested. I'm a broke art student in need of money lol
Thanks for reading guys! Hopefully I'll update again soon!)
Author/Artist:
lilflow
Genre: Supernatural/Hurt-comfort
Characters/Pairing(s): America, England, France, Canada (and others)
Rating/Warnings: T
Summary: Arthur was an angel charged with caring for the children targeted by the demons of the world, but this particular child may be the most difficult to care for yet. Angel!AU
(Continued from: part two)
•••
Alfred stopped at the entrance to the orphanage grounds. It had been a few weeks since he had been back, but the appearance of a new face there never failed to surprise him. Even more so when they were accompanied by another vaguely familiar figure sporting large white wings.
He dumped his travel bag by the gate, crossing the path until the small girl noticed him, staring up at him with big brown eyes and ceasing her playing.
The angel also stopped to watch him, but Alfred gave him nothing more than a side glance as he crouched down next to the child, giving her a bright smile instead, "Hey kiddo, what's your name?"
"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers." She mumbled, not meeting Alfred's eyes.
The angel that was with her moved forward, whispering something in the girl's ear before smiling and ushering her toward Alfred. She held out her hand, still looking a little uncomfortable, but gave her best smile, "I'm Angelique."
Alfred took her hand and giving it a quick shake, "Hi Angelique, I'm Alfred. What're you playing?"
"Francis is showing me how to make daisy chains." She smiled a little wider, lifting up a half-finished line of flowers.
"Francis, huh?" Alfred nodded at the angel.
"Yup." Angelique grinned, turned to pull the angel forward, "He's my friend."
"Why don't you go and finish your chain, Angie? Let me speak with Alfred for a while." Francis patted her head briefly, smiling as she rushed off again to look for more flowers. "She is a sweet child." He turned to Alfred, his expression hardening a little.
"I can tell." Al said, not quite meeting the angel's eyes. He wasn't sure if he was ready to see Francis again, even if several years had passed and he was twenty-one now. The last time he had seen this particular angel nothing good had come of it.
He had been travelling with a friend in Arizona at the time. Not for the first time either. And, like himself, Francis had been looking for something - someone.
"How long has she been here for?"
"Little over a week." Francis turned to watch Angelique again, "She is settling in well now, though there were some lumps and bumps at first."
"Not surprising, really." Alfred frowned, he could still remember his first few weeks in the orphanage after his parents had died and how difficult they had been at the time. "What happened?"
"From what the teachers here say, her aunt died in a car crash."
"And her parents?"
"I haven't the slightest idea." Francis admitted, shrugging at Alfred, "She had apparently been living with her aunt for as long as she can remember."
"Poor kid." Alfred sighed, "You couldn't do anything?"
"We weren't aware of her until after it happened." Francis was almost glaring at the floor, but quickly shrugged it off. "But we are now. And I am doing whatever I can to look after her."
"She'll be safe while she's here." Alfred smiled.
"And while you're here, yes." Francis gave him a stern look that wasn't unlike the ones that Alfred used to get from a certain other angel when he was younger. "For when you are not, I am here. Arthur only protected you, not this entire place."
"Yeah, yeah." Alfred laughed, he'd never taken lecturing well, "Don't get jealous though. All the kids here love me."
Francis chuckled, rolling his eyes at Alfred, "Yes, I had heard you were a Carer here now. Somehow I am not surprised."
Alfred shrugged, moving back to grab his bag again, shirking it onto his shoulder, "I love the kids and it pays for my travelling."
They stood in silence for a few moments watching Angelique pick and thread flowers together. It was a pleasant afternoon, not too hot, but warm enough for the children to play outside comfortably without having to wear too many layers.
"Where did you go this time?" Francis asked, looking over the size of Alfred's travel bag.
"Up to visit Matt in Canada." Alfred hitched the bag up again.
"Did you have any luck?"
"Not any more than the last time you saw me." He sighed, running his free hand through his hair and adjusting his new glasses. He'd broken another pair when Matt had insisted on playing hockey and had to fork out the money for yet another new pair. He needed to remember to front Matt the bill this time.
Francis nodded, "Maybe it's time to stop looking?"
"Naw." Alfred grinned. "If I stop then I'll never find him."
Francis smiled again, looking almost proud of Alfred. Despite everything that had happened that led to this point, he was still glad that after everything, Alfred had been saved.
"Francis." They turned, finding Angelique smiling up at the two of them, "I finished it." She held up the finished daisy chain, grinning at her own work.
"It is splendid, Angie." Francis beamed at her, taking the line of flowers, making a few adjustments of his own until he had fashioned it into a crown, placing it proudly on Angelique's head. "Now you look like a princess."
Angelique giggled, giving them a twirl and sat back down on the grass, starting to pick more flowers. "I was wondering," she said, looking a bit more thoughtful as she strung the flowers together, "how come Al can see you too, Francis? You said other people couldn't see you."
"Ah, well you see," Francis crouched down next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and looking back up at Alfred, "when Alfred was your age, he had an angel friend as well. Though he is not quite as special as you, flower."
Angelique giggled again, leaning against the angel while still busily threading the flower stems together. Francis stretched his wings out behind him, relaxing down onto the grass next to his charge, watching her with a soft smile that Alfred had seen before, except on the face of a different angel, and when he was much younger. He supposed this was what it had felt like when he had just met Arthur and he had finally started to feel safe again. But that was a long time ago. He just hoped that these two had a happier ending.
"There you are Angie!" All three of them jumped at the new voice, one that made Angelique cringe, Francis smirk, and Alfred gaped.
The voice he knew well enough, but it was the person it belonged to that left him in shock. The only difference was the lack of wings and robe. The rest was exactly the same, right down to the slightly too thick eyebrows.
He was Arthur.
"I was wondering where you'd gotten to." He sighed, walking up to the group. "Have you not heard us calling you?"
Angelique shook her head, her pigtails waving about her head as she did so.
"Well, never mind. It's dinner time, come along."
Angelique huffed, crossing her arms and pouting. "But Arthur-!"
'Arthur' chuckled, "If you keep doing that then your face will stick that way. Go on, poppet. Go and wash up, the others are waiting for you."
Angelique scowled, abandoning her current daisy chain in favour of grabbing Francis's hand and leading him inside. Alfred swore he saw 'Arthur' give the angel a side glance, his brows furrowing slightly at him before he turned his attention back to Alfred. "May I help you?"
Alfred started, almost forgetting that he was still standing outside the orphanage, "Oh, no. I was just heading inside."
"May I ask why?"
"Err…" Alfred stared at him for a few moments. This was Arthur, right? So why was he asking questions as if he had no idea who he was? "Because I live here."
"Oh!" 'Arthur' smacked a hand to his forehead, "You're Alfred Jones, aren't you?" Alfred nodded. "Tino said to expect you, sorry. I didn't mean to be rude."
"No sweat, but, erm, who are you?" Alfred asked, tentative for the answer. Maybe this guy just looked like Arthur. It wasn't all that unusual for people to look the same… or sound the same… or have the same name…
"Oh, I'm so sorry. I'm Arthur Kirkland." Arthur held out his hand, which Alfred shook. "Do come inside." Arthur smiled, "Tino was making sure to save you some dinner for when you got back."
"Uh, yeah." Alfred nodded, feeling more than a bit weirded out at being led inside him own home. "So, err, you a new carer or something?"
Arthur looked confused for a moment, then chuckled and shook his head, "Oh, no. I'm just staying here for a while. I'm working as a journalist and Tino and Berwald said I could stay here until my affairs were all in order. I must say, I was lucky I ran into them when I did. I'm doing an article on child care and this is just the thing I needed. I've been living in London until now and to be honest, I haven't the foggiest idea what goes where here in America. It's like waking up and putting all my clothes on back-to-front."
Alfred wasn't quite taking it in. He simply nodded vacantly when he thought he was supposed to, dropping his bag at the bottom of the hallway stairs on their way through to the kitchen.
"Al!" Alfred was snapped back to attention by something small and hairy slamming up against his legs, clinging to them a little too tightly. "Al's back!" The small boy shouted behind him into the dining room where the other children were sat at various stages through their dinner.
"Whoa, hey there, squirt." Alfred laughed, arranging himself so that he would trip over the boy and ruffled his hair, "Man, Markie, you need a haircut."
Markie pouted, scowling up at Alfred, "Why does everyone keep saying that?!"
"Because it's true." Tino emerged from the kitchen, holding another plateful of food and placing it in front of Angelique, who was now sat down with the other children. "Welcome back, Al." He smiled at Alfred trying to prise the child off his legs, plopping him back in his chair at the table, "There's some food left in the pan for you. Just don't eat it all. I want something left to eat when the rabble are done."
"Thanks Tino." Alfred grinned, giving him a quick hug as he passed on his way into the kitchen.
Berwald was stood in the kitchen, still serving up the last few plates of food. He glanced at Alfred, giving him what Alfred had learnt over the years was his equivalent of a smile, and plated up another portion, handing it over to him. "Thanks," Alfred grinned, pushing himself onto the countertop, "I'm starving."
"Aren't you always?" Tino came back through the doorway, picking up a plate and passing it back to Arthur behind him.
Alfred didn't get it. This man standing in front of him was unmistakably Arthur. The Arthur he had grown up with, been protected by, and the Arthur who had died in his arms and disappeared.
He travelled ever since he was eighteen just to find other angels who could give him some clues as to what had happened and even they had been baffled. He'd been determined to find Arthur again. But now that someone that certainly looked the same, let alone having the same mannerisms and the same name, was standing in front of him, and he just couldn't get his head around it. Especially since this Arthur didn't seem to have any idea who he was.
"Alfred?" Tino waved in front of his face, "You'll tip your food all over the floor."
"Ah! Sorry." Alfred righted his plate, shovelling in a couple of forkfuls of food in the process.
"So, how's Matthew, anyway?" Tino smiled, Al spacing out wasn't anything unusual.
"Matthew?" Arthur looked shocked, as if he had spoken without meaning to, but tried to cover it up.
"My brother." Alfred answered, swallowing his food, "He gave me something to give you, Tino. It's in my bag."
"Give it later." Berwald spoke up, moving to the door to watch the children in the next room, "Finish yer food first."
Alfred stuck his tongue out, shovelling the rest of his food into his mouth and put his plate in the sink. Tino rolled his eyes as he was passed the package from Matthew, unwrapping the litre bottle of maple syrup that he always got sent whenever Alfred went to visit his younger brother. It would keep the kids going for a while, that was for sure.
The last time Matthew had visited himself, he had tried to teach one group of the children to play hockey and had ended up breaking Alfred's first pair of glasses. Needless to say all the children now wanted to play the game and Berwald had to lock the sticks away to stop any more visits to the emergency room after the first time.
"By the way, Alfred," Tino put the pile of plates on the countertop, leaving it to whoever it was whose turn it was to do the dishes to sort them out, "we've had to lend Arthur the spare bed in your room. Angie's in the last empty room for now until she's settled enough to go in with one of the other girls. That's alright, isn't it?"
Alfred froze in the process of zipping his bag back up again, taking a few seconds to fully take in what had just been said. His fingers slipped on the zip, and he scrambled to get the bag done up and slung it over his shoulder. "S-sure!" He stammered, putting on his best grin, "No problem. Why would there be?"
"That's good, then." Tino smiled, picking up the stray child that had wandered into the kitchen after him, looking far too tired, "You two can go up and sort out your things while I get little'ns off to bed."
Alfred nodded, if a little absently, and followed Arthur out of the room. He still couldn't get his head around the situation he had apparently gotten himself into, but this is what he was now stuck with. He only wished he could at least pretend to be as calm as Arthur was.
"I did my best not to move too much around." Arthur said, sitting down on what used to be Matthew's bed. "I hope I'm not causing you any trouble."
"Nah, it's cool." Alfred looked around the room, noting where a few of his things had been moved to the side slightly so that Arthur's own possessions could fit in the room as well. He hadn't shared a room since he was fourteen, so it would take some getting used to again. Though it wasn't unusual for one of the kids to come and try to sleep in his room instead of their own bed.
He dropped his bag down on his bed, sinking onto the mattress himself, revelling in the fact that he didn't have to sleep on Matt's lumpy student sofa anymore.
"I've been wanting to ask you," Arthur spoke up, catching Alfred's attention once more, "forgive me if I'm being too nosy, but this caught my attention and I've been dying to ask you about it."
He picked a box up off the desk that Alfred recognised instantly, holding it out to him. Alfred had taken care in finding it, though it had taken some trawling through the neighbourhood yard sales until he had found something perfect, delicate, just like the contents.
Arthur opened the lid, careful not to touch the feathers that Alfred kept in the container, as though he was scared that they would break at the slightest touch. "I've never seen feathers quite like these before, and believe me I've been subjected to my fair share of bird watching. Where on earth did you get them?"
Alfred took it, turning around in his hands. He smiled down at the feathers. There was no happy way to tell the story of how he had come into possession of them, especially when he was having to tell the story to the exact look-alike of the one they had once belonged to.
"They belonged to a very dear friend of mine." He decided on, letting his fingers trace over the top few feathers. "I'd rather not talk about it."
"Oh, I'm so sorry." Arthur rushed, clapping a hand over his mouth. "I shouldn't have asked."
"Nah, that's okay." Alfred smiled across at him, "You didn't know."
"So they were important to you?" Arthur asked, turning away to adjust his pillow.
"Yeah." Alfred looked back down again. He hadn't really spoken about his Arthur to anyone before since it had happened. It was weird, if anything, after all the time that had passed. "He was the most important."
Alfred didn't really know what happened next. The box had clattered to the floor, the feathers spilling out over the carpet and under the bed. There were arms wrapped around him, a chin rested on the top of his head, and a gasp for air that he didn't know whether it was his own or not.
It was only when he felt Arthur sob again that he finally realised. This, this was his Arthur. He was here, not dead. And despite the differences, Alfred just could find it in him to care in that moment. He could only cling onto Arthur's back in return.
"You stupid, mad, perfect boy." Arthur breathed out, his voice hitching slightly in his throat. He sniffed, moving back so that he was sat next to Alfred instead of practically on top of him, though he kept hold of Alfred's hand. "How is it that, even after all this time, you are so perfect as to remember?"
"How?" Alfred couldn't think of anything else to say, he was still stunned. This was Arthur. He'd proven that, right? But, there were no wings, no signs of the angel that had practically raised Alfred. This Arthur was, by all senses of the word, human, wasn't he? "How can you possibly-?"
"I don't know myself." Arthur smiled, watching Alfred absently rubbing circles into the back of his hand. "I think… I think I was always this way. Human, I mean. There's a whole life I can remember. But I can remember my entire time with you as well. It just feels like a long dream." He leant down, picking up one of the feathers on the floor and turned it in his fingers, "I can remember the feel of these on my back, and how much it hurt to lose them all. I can remember flying and the feel of the wind when I was in the clouds. But then I can remember learning how to ride a bike back in London when I was little. It's complicated."
Alfred took the feather from him, letting it fall back down to the floor with the others. "How did you know it wasn't a dream?"
"Francis found me." Arthur almost sounded annoyed, "I suppose I should be grateful to him really, but he just won't get out of my hair. Especially now that he's looking after Angie. But he was the missing link that I needed. I'd woken up in my flat in Cheapside feeling like I'd had far too much to drink at the work party the night before, and had the strangest dream, but I couldn't quite remember it no matter how hard I tried. It went on that way for months. I kept feeling like I was missing something. I'd started seeing people that my colleagues couldn't. People that looked as though they were flying. But that couldn't be possible, could it? I felt like I was going mad. But then I saw a face that I knew, and Francis found me. And here I am."
"I saw Francis when I was travelling a couple of years ago." Alfred hummed, leaning back on the bed, "I was looking for angels, seeing what I could find out about what happens after they die. He was looking for you."
"It wasn't long after that that he found me." Arthur let out a small laugh that sounded more like exasperation. "I thought I was going bonkers, but I knew who he was and he knew every last detail of the dreams I'd been having. And I realised, well, that they weren't dreams after all." He turned to Alfred, his smile crinkling his eyes slightly, "You wear glasses now."
"Yeah." Alfred pushed them up his nose, "I guess dad's bad sight finally caught up with me. Matt wears them too."
"You're talking to each other again, then? I'm glad." Arthur had laced his fingers together, folding and unfolding his hands every few seconds. "You two need each other."
Alfred nodded, frowning slightly at the thought of when he couldn't so much as take a phone call from his little brother, never mind going and spending weeks on end in Canada with him. It suddenly dawned on him just how quickly he had gone from knowing everything about Arthur, to knowing nothing about him at all. He'd spent years with the angel. But this was someone who had lived an entirely different life. Even the angel Arthur had looked after a child before him; he'd told him stories about her when he was little. But this was completely different. This was a man, living, breathing, sitting in his room with him. He was basically a total stranger with just the memories of the time the angel had spent with Alfred. And that was, somehow, completely disorientating.
"So what now?" He found himself saying without really meaning to.
"What do you mean?" Arthur's smile slipped.
"Well…" Alfred started, not really knowing what to say next, "God, I don't know. You know everything about me, but I-" he trailed off, feeling stupid.
Arthur chuckled, leaning back on his elbows, "Arthur Kirkland. Twenty-three years old, from Kensington, London. I have a mother and father, three older brothers, and one younger. I studied Journalism and English Literature at Kingston University, and now I'm here, in America, working on a project about children's living conditions. I'm staying here until my own living arrangements have been settled, as agreed with one Tino Väinämöinen, as per our agreement when I called to give details of my project. Of course, there were other reasons by that point of my wanting to come to this particular children's home, you understand. And that basically brings us to this point." He smirked at the slightly taken aback expression of Alfred's face, "Did I leave anything out? I could go into every detail of my childhood if you'd like."
Alfred shook his head, reeling slightly from the amount of information he'd just had to take in. He'd never been very good at memorising things.
"Good." Arthur sat up again, his expression softening again. He watched Alfred's confusion for a few more moments. He could practically see the cogs turning in his head as he pieced together the information. The boy really hadn't changed. Except from that he wasn't a boy anymore. While Arthur hadn't been looking Alfred had grown up. The glasses helped of course, but he was taller, his shoulders broader, his face was more mature. Arthur suddenly had the overwhelming feeling that he was talking to a complete stranger, rather than the boy that he'd seen grow up, but had apparently missed the most important part. This Alfred was most definitely an adult.
"I thought about you all the time." Alfred finally spoke up, not looking at Arthur but his ears had turned red. "I- I didn't wanna think that you really had died. You were all I had left."
Arthur stood, the movement making Alfred look at him again, and stooped, carefully placing each feather back in the box where Alfred had kept them safe all these years. He rested his hand atop of them when he was finished, carefully closing the lid so that none of them were trapped at odd angles. He knelt in front of Alfred, placing the box on his lap, keeping one hand on it, and cupping Alfred's cheek with the other. "Don't be silly, darling." He said softly, "I never left."
Alfred took the box, pushing it to one side, pulling Arthur closer instead, wrapping his arms around him and resting his chin on his shoulder.
It was stupid that just those few words would affect him this much, but he still didn't want Arthur to see him grinning like an idiot like this.
He felt Arthur's breath hitch for a second before he turned his head and leant into the embrace, his hands coming up to cling into the back of Alfred's shirt, and he knew that Arthur must have been smiling as well.
He supposed now, after all this time, he wouldn't need his angel's feathers anymore. This was much better.
(A/N:
Hey guys! God, it's been a long time. I've literally been working on this for months, pretty much since I last updated OLaS. It's been something I've had in mind for a while and didn't really want to work on anything else until I had it out of the way. Didn't expect it to be quite this long, but there you go.
I have some offshots in mind for this after I've updated OLaS, and also gotten a highschool!AU I've got in my head started, but that one's just going to be something I work on when I feel like it. Little bits here and there.
I hope this didn't make too bad of a comeback for me. University is starting up again for me in a couple of weeks and I'll have to work on that whole heartedly as well as everything else seeing as I'm heading into my final year. Wish me luck!
Also, on a side note, I'm taking art commissions at the moment. Details are over on my deviantART as well as most of my work, if you're interested. I'm a broke art student in need of money lol
Thanks for reading guys! Hopefully I'll update again soon!)