Weren't we just here?
Who: Alfred and Ivan
When: October 1st, afternoon
Where: The hospital
What: There's only so much Alfred can take before he snaps.
Alfred can't even believe the text he's gotten from Emi, or rather he really jut doesn't want to believe it. Matthew is still off on a trip, Dewi and Arthur aren't talking to each other and now this? He sits watches the sheep for a moment before slowly making his way to the hospital on his bike. He's not near as fast as Dewi and arrives in the late afternoon.
Arriving at the hospital is not easy for him. He's been avoiding his doctor's visits, doesn't want to see the scars under his bandages quite yet. Doesn't want to have to lie about the nightmares that wake him up at night sobbing. Doesn't want to have to be in that room again. Doesn't want to lie about the voices that still plague him. Doesn't want to be there.
He figures this is another way Ivan tortures him. By getting himself almost killed. Just to push Alfred to another edge. As he walks down the hallways, peaking into rooms, smiling at the few people inside, what he's come to know as his Ivan talks to him. He tried to ignore this Ivan but he always sounds so nice, so like Alfred wants the real Ivan to sound like. For a moment, he considers turning around, to not visit the Russian but a part of him, one that finds himself in love with the real Ivan, opens the door.
There are no flowers, no sentimental greeting like Ivan did for him, like a kiss on him temple or a holding of his hand. Alfred gives John an absolutely beaming and wide smile, hugging the half-asleep, half-drugged up man and when he lets him go, John is asleep again.
Alfred's smile is gone the minute the Kiwi is passed out and he reaches Ivan's bedside, dragging a chair over, sitting down. He stares right at the Russian, anger in every line of his face, in every rigid limb of his tense body and in every single word he practically hisses at the doctor.
"What the hell did you do?"
When: October 1st, afternoon
Where: The hospital
What: There's only so much Alfred can take before he snaps.
Alfred can't even believe the text he's gotten from Emi, or rather he really jut doesn't want to believe it. Matthew is still off on a trip, Dewi and Arthur aren't talking to each other and now this? He sits watches the sheep for a moment before slowly making his way to the hospital on his bike. He's not near as fast as Dewi and arrives in the late afternoon.
Arriving at the hospital is not easy for him. He's been avoiding his doctor's visits, doesn't want to see the scars under his bandages quite yet. Doesn't want to have to lie about the nightmares that wake him up at night sobbing. Doesn't want to have to be in that room again. Doesn't want to lie about the voices that still plague him. Doesn't want to be there.
He figures this is another way Ivan tortures him. By getting himself almost killed. Just to push Alfred to another edge. As he walks down the hallways, peaking into rooms, smiling at the few people inside, what he's come to know as his Ivan talks to him. He tried to ignore this Ivan but he always sounds so nice, so like Alfred wants the real Ivan to sound like. For a moment, he considers turning around, to not visit the Russian but a part of him, one that finds himself in love with the real Ivan, opens the door.
There are no flowers, no sentimental greeting like Ivan did for him, like a kiss on him temple or a holding of his hand. Alfred gives John an absolutely beaming and wide smile, hugging the half-asleep, half-drugged up man and when he lets him go, John is asleep again.
Alfred's smile is gone the minute the Kiwi is passed out and he reaches Ivan's bedside, dragging a chair over, sitting down. He stares right at the Russian, anger in every line of his face, in every rigid limb of his tense body and in every single word he practically hisses at the doctor.
"What the hell did you do?"