Entry 11: "Light in the Dark"
Title: "Light in the Dark"
Entry Number: 11. Halloween Entry
Author: shuriken7
Fandom: Hetalia. Mafia AU.
Rating: PG-13 for violence.
Genre: Romance, Historical
Word Count: 7186
Summary: On Halloween, 1925 Arthur Kirkland's life was going to change. He would either end the night free of his criminal past or stone cold dead. He hoped that he would be able to run away, to be with the one he loved...
A/N: Dedicated to velted for being my inspiration for so many ways and sticking with me for so long. :) I hope you will find this enjoyable, even if it's far from perfect.
A/N 2: I'll admit this story is really rough. I have a hard time with writing long stories and this was really rushed (wrote it in the last 3 days to finish off this challenge). This is one that is certainly a first draft.
This was the night Arthur's life was going to change. All Hollow's Eve in the year 1925.
He pulled his Halloween mask down to obscure his face, hoping that no one would be able to recognize him behind it. The cloak he had swathed about him hid his body shape, so hopefully no one would suspect the normally slight man beneath it. He walked through the streets, heading towards the party on the pier. The party that did not exist as far as the general population knew, as far as anyone could tell from the outside, this ballroom was empty or perhaps a few performers were practicing on the lonely stage. Only people like Arthur would be there, people who had gotten far too deep into the criminal world. Tonight, everything would change for them as well.
He didn't know if the change would be for better or worse yet. He hoped that it he could make this move it would be for the better. He would be free of the mob and this dank and dirty city. He would be on a train heading to a place so far away these men that he stood with now would never be able to track him. He sipped at the glass of whiskey slowly, enough to not look suspicious, but not enough to get drunk and risk giving himself away. He had been clever enough so far, if only he could keep it up for a bit longer.
Just one more night. Alfred had promised him, Just one more night and we will be free.
~*~
Arthur never expected the blonde-haired young man to come into his life.
He had come to America seeking much and finding little. There had been days when Arthur couldn't believe he traded the streets of London for the streets of New York. People here could be uncaring and cruel. He could barely fit in with the Americans and the other immigrants wanted little to do with him. The American government had outlawed alcohol, which took away one of the few solaces he had. He would wrack his brain for a good reason for why he left, why he would choose such a miserable life on the streets of an unfamiliar city.
But then he would remember.
In the streets of London he had been a member of the starving working class. he had been barely able scrape by, hoping that his brothers to bring something home. However, as they grew older his brothers would leave for longer and longer periods of time. One day they stopped coming back altogether. When they were gone he would scrounge the garbage bins looking for throw-away novels. Many of them spoke of adventures in faraway places, but his favorite ones told stories of America. It seemed to be a place of endless opportunities, and adventures around every corner. One day, he gathered his meager belongings into a satchel and snuck on board a ship heading towards the United States.
When he arrived he'd been expecting so much more, only to have his dreams crushed left and right. Freedom seemed to just be an illusion, something the Americans stamped on a product. There had been moments where he was convinced that he was going to die. He had been living underneath a bridge when Feliciano found him. The Italian offered him a job at his restaurant, thinking that a hint of British would bring in customers. Little did he know that the generosity came at a cost. The restaurant was a front for the older Italian brother's business, dealing in illegal liquor and blackmail. Arthur's boss was a member of the minor family in the mob.
He had been working there the first time he had seen him, dressed in a crisp blue suit with the white-haired girl who had been watching the shop for weeks. Immediately, Arthur wondered if he was a member of the Russian gang. It was hardly any secret in the underbelly of the city that she was none other than the leader's sister. After taking their orders he went to the back to inform Feliciano. The younger Italian had scurried off to find his brother, begging Arthur to keep an eye on them.
He served them as nicely as he could, hovering just beyond the kitchen doors trying to capture snippets of conversation. It was all trivial, dating nonsense. No, there had to be something more. He glanced at the man. But then he couldn't look away. He had seen him before. But where?
The girl slid her hand over the man's and he smiled an annoyingly bright smile at her. He served their food and kept watching. He was completely American, that much was easy to tell in his accent, no traces of a mother country anywhere inside it. He wasn't thin as a rail, so he had a good enough job to feed himself. This man didn't look like anyone from this corner of the immigrant slums.
"So where are you from Alfred? Certainly not from around here?" the girl said, in a way she must have considered charming. Arthur wanted to gag. The young man merely smiled at her.
"I'm from Wyoming." The girl looked confused, so he added, "Out west. My grandparents had gone out to the territory from Kentucky during the Gold Rush. They didn't find anything though and just became cattle ranchers. It's all big and open and definitely not like here. You can see for miles and it's all trees and grasslands. You can ride a horse for days and never see another living soul..." He spoke about the area with such pride, Arthur had a hard time imagining it. He strained his ears hoping for a little bit more about this state that was farther than he had ever considered traveling.
The girl asked the question he had been wondering, "Why did you leave?"
Arthur peeked around the doorway, just in time to see Alfred's face twitch. Apparently, that wasn't something he was going to share on a first date. The lie was obvious, "Well, it was just too big and open." He hastily drank out of his glass as an excuse to put something in his mouth. Arthur brought them their food a few minutes later and giving them both a reason to be quiet.
However, after the food had been devoured, he still listened, hoping to hear more about this place out west. It sounded so peaceful compared to the dark and dank cities he had always known. He began to wonder how much a train ticket would be and if his employers would ever be able to track him that far...
By the time the Italian brother's returned, he realized where he had seen him. He had won an award from the city for outstanding service, it had been in the newspaper. The young man was a cop. Which was terrible, the police in this city might as well be their own gang. However, he could remember where he had seen this young man. Arthur had noticed him because he had grabbed a little girl out of the street before a street car could hit her. Her ball had rolled out. Everyone had applauded and the little girl had hugged him. He had been a hero, but he had just smiled and said it was all part of the job. He decided to keep the information to himself, since the mere presence of the girl seemed to send his employers into a frenzy. Lovino, the older brother, grabbed him roughly by the collar. His hands were shaking.
"Get rid of them, Arthur! She's using that fool for a cover! We don't want start anything with the Russians!" he hissed. Arthur glared at him.
"Or what?"
"You jerk, you'll be sorry. You won't be eating for a week, here or anywhere else in town."
"I know how to cook."
"That would be punishment enough, ve?" Feliciano butted in, trying to smooth the ruffled feathers. Arthur turned on his heel and stomped out of the kitchen. He didn't have to take this from those fools. And his cooking was just fine! He headed towards the table, hoping to speed them on their way and get his idiot bosses off his back. However, he wasn't going to make it completely painless for them.
"Is there anything else you would like today?" he asked, and he could almost hear the groan from the kitchen. The couple looked up at him interested.
"Do you have a dessert menu?" the man asked. Arthur passed it to him.
"You mean I won't be dessert enough?" the girl giggled, although it sounded rather forced and completely unnatural. Arthur resisted the urge to roll his eyes, he could see the angle now. Bed the stupid cop hoping to get some details. Probably kill him afterward. Arthur eyed the young man, it was doubtful that he was too high up in the police station, probably a rookie or at the most not too many years. He suddenly felt horrible, the poor lad probably had no idea the plans the woman had for him. He had to find some way to warn him.
As he grabbed the dessert tray out of the kitchen he had a sudden idea. He would have to time it just right and hope it didn't look too forced. He walked towards them with the food and at the right moment, sent himself and the tray falling, right into the undercover cop. The tiramisu had stuck to the front of his dark jacket. The white clinging to the fabric as the dish slowly slid down. Arthur apologized immediately and offered to take him in the back to get him cleaned up. The girl glared daggers at him and clutched at the dinner knife that remained at the table as though she would like nothing more than to thrust it between his ribs. It was probably true. As soon as they were out of sight he pushed the young man up against the wall. He could feel the gun barrel pressed against his stomach immediately.
The blue-eyes had turned cold, the light glinting off his glasses, "Let go and then tell me what you want."
Arthur released him, feeling stupid for not realizing an officer would be armed. He had taken them down to a back room opposite the kitchen and thus his bosses would never see what had happened until he was bleeding out on the floor. He realized then that he hadn't planned what he was going to say, just that he wanted to get this fool away from death. Apparently, he should have given the boy from Wyoming a little more credit. "That girl, she's... involved... with the Russians. You aren't exactly on your plains back home." he spat out, immediately regretting the extra sentence at the end. Why did he have to say something that would prove he was eavesdropping!?
Alfred's eyes narrowed, but with confusion, not suspicion. Had the idiot really not known? "I don't believe you. I know what you are."
Arthur had the horrifying realization that it wasn't just the silver-haired girl that was spying on them. This officer had his eye on them as well. Lovino was going to kill him, but he might as well make his pitiful life mean something. What was more noble than sacrificing your life for someone else? He was pretty sure he read that in a book once. "Well, you should because then it means that I know what I'm talking about. I tell you that she is planning on getting information from you and then killing you or worse." He had a bit of an idea what the worse would be, Ludwig, a friend of Feliciano's would warn of the terrifying things that could happen when one was captured by another gang. He had several long scars down the inside of one arm to prove it.
Alfred tilted his head slightly and just stared at him, confusion etching itself even more deeply in his features. Arthur could see why the Russians had chosen him as a target, he certainly could be worse to look at. "What is your name?"
It fell from his lips before he could consider the folly, "Arthur Kirkland."
"Thanks, Arthur Kirkland." Alfred tucked his weapon back inside his coat, "Now are you going to get me something to clean up with?" The smile he wore seemed far too confident and teasing for a man who could be murdered any moment by the Italian mob, while he had been busy sweet-talking a member of the Russian one. The man had to be an absolute idiot, Arthur decided. He hoped it wouldn't come back to haunt him. He offered Alfred his waiter's apron and the cop managed to get most of the cream off his jacket and he soon made his way back out to the table.
"I apologize for suggesting a place with such shoddy service." she said, throwing another dirty look at Arthur. He looked right back at her, he could see the murder in her eyes. She knew exactly what he was. He tried to keep his face still, although he could feel his heart start to race. What had he done? Was she suspicious that he tipped the other man off? He prayed that Alfred could keep a secret, and manage to extricate himself without revealing what he had learned?
Alfred through several glances over at him whenever he appeared outside the kitchen. Arthur caught a wink as he handed him the money to pay their bill. Arthur was fighting a blush, hardly anyone paid him attention. He couldn't be sure how he could feel about an undercover cop smiling at him. After they had left, Arthur leaned against the wall, knowing that this wasn't the end. Lovino came out of the kitchen, "What did you say to that man?"
"Who says I said anything?"
The Italian's eyes narrowed, "Don't play stupid with me, Caterpillar Brows, what was the deal with that stupid looking guy!? Is he working for the Russians too?"
"Nothing, he was just stupid. Will probably have his throat cut by morning. Am I done for the day?" While he was being waved off by the Italian, he sincerely hoped that he had saved the young man who remembered his home so fondly would still be alive the next day.
~*~
Arthur wondered for several weeks whether the blue-eyed officer and whether he had made it out of that evening with all his limbs intact. His face wearing that silly grin would pop into his head at the most inopportune times. He was just sweeping one day when he found his hands stilled and staring off into the distance. He had used a little of his pay to buy a western book at the small musty bookstore a few streets over. He had already read it twice, trying to imagine Alfred in such an environment. He tried imagining himself there. Why would anyone leave such a place? It seemed like paradise over the underbelly of New York.
"Arthur, what are you dreaming about?" asked the bubbly voice of Feliciano who was smiling at him from the doorway, "Have you met a pretty girl?"
His cheeks flushed, how could he have been making that face? He shook his head, "Nothing, just thinking."
"Well, less thinking and more sweeping." Lovino yelled from deeper within the restaurant. His orders to Arthur barked he went back to yelling at whoever it was on the phone, from the tone it must have been Antonio who was one of the suppliers. The man was far too happy go lucky and Arthur doubted that he realized exactly what kind of business Lovino was running out the back door. He began moving the broom again, ignoring Feliciano who stood by his side. The other was wearing the dopey smile that was typical of him, however, it seemed to Arthur that there was a hint of a knowing look.
"What does she look like Arthur, ve? Beautiful?"
Arthur sighed and wanted to tell the little fool to back off, but it was always hard to mean to the short man. "It's... not exactly a girl."
"Oh! You like men, ve?"
Arthur turned completely bright red, shame spreading across his entire body. The other man said it so casually! He admitted to himself long ago that he could be attracted to women and men, but it was not like that where this cop was concerned! "No!" he protested, and Feliciano looked confused, "I was thinking about some other places."
"Your home?"
"No, I was reading a book about the lands out west. They sound pretty amazing."
"And scary too! There are all kinds of outlaws! And people shoot each other! And there are wild animals that will eat people!" Arthur resisted the urge to tell him that there were plenty of outlaws and people being shot around her, the only thing lacking was the wild animals, but he decided it wasn't worth it. Especially since the phone had just been slammed back into its cradle at the end of Lovino's call with Antonio.
"I'll keep that in mind."
"You are much safer here, Arthur." Arthur received a pat on the hand and then he was alone, back to cleaning the sidewalk in front of the restaurant. He finished his chore with the accusation that he could have feelings for someone he had only met briefly, and a man no less! He threw the broom into the cupboard and grabbed his small box of tobacco and lighting paper. After folding himself a cigarette he grabbed a box of matches and headed for the alley behind the restaurant. His first drag calmed his nerves considerably.
He replayed the conversations he had been a part of ever since they realized that they were being watched by the sister of the Russian gang leader. Lovino had told him her name was Natalya and she was usually a sign the Russian's had planned their next mark. He had frowned, "The angel of death is on our doorstep." He had been traveling around the city spreading the word to the few others of the Italian mob he knew. From the time she first walked into the restaurant with the unknowing officer on her arm, the days had become cooler as the summer began fading into fall.
He would not even have noticed her if she had stayed where she was, but he caught a glimpse of white-blonde hair the moment before he saw the flash of the knife.
Natalya came at him so fast he was barely able to react, and she caught his shirt sleeve with the tip of her knife, tearing it. Her next attack was so quick that he wasn't able to finish his call for help. He ducked and dodged seeking something he could use to counter. He grabbed a trashcan lid to use as a makeshift shield. He blocked her blade, not understanding the words she was cursing at him. He wasn't entirely sure if it was Russian or English or anything else, Arthur was far too concerned with that blade not connecting with his flesh.
He was certain they were making noise, the knife rang loudly against the metal of the lid every time they met. His feet caught and he tripped over another trash can sending the object falling with a crash. He was certain he was finished as he she caught him by the arm. Arthur closed his eyes, expecting for the blade to slice right across his throat.
A shot rang out. "Natalya stop!" yelled a voice that made Arthur's heart start to pound even more than it already was. He opened his eyes and looked to the end of the alley. Alfred was not undercover this time, his blue uniform crisp and official. The pistol was held in one hand, Natalya at the other end of the barrel. He was too far away to step in, but probably not far enough away to make a deadly shot. The first one had been a warning. Arthur gasped when the girl reacted, pulling him in front of her and pressing the blade up against his throat.
Alfred gritted his teeth. "You do not want the innocent life of this man on your conscious, Officer Jones?" she teased, tightening the blade to the point where Arthur feared if he took too deep a breath he would slit his own throat. Alfred kept a study hand on the gun and his look of frustration turned to a grin, one much more deadly than the ones he had tossed in this girl's direction before.
"You know as well as I do that Arthur is not innocent." The man readied the gun for another shot, while Arthur felt his idiot heart flutter that the other man had remembered his name. He blamed it on the fact that he was the one with cold, sharp steel against his throat. He couldn't be blamed for how his body reacted. "Besides Natalya, I won't hit him with this bullet anyway. I can hit a rabbit between the eyes at a much farther distance than this. I'm giving you to the count of three to let him go and come quietly."
She tightened her grip and began to laugh. Alfred began to count aloud, beginning at three. He began to utter 'one' when the large shadow descended on him, its own gun held to the blonde man's head.
"Perhaps you would be so kind as to not shoot my little sister. Unless you want me painting this street with your blood." the man smiled. Arthur paled, Ivan Braginski was here. Everyone knew his name, but he was rarely seen outside of his speak-easy. The place was famous for flaunting its transgressions against the law. Too many officers were on his payroll... or they just ended up dead. Arthur looked at Alfred's face, there was no way that guy wasn't afraid of him, although it was impossible to tell from his expression.
"Perhaps you would so kindly remove your gun from my head before I do something about it?" Arthur had barely noticed it, but Alfred had a knife in one hand pressed against Braginski's stomach. "What's it going to be, Ivan? We all die? Or do you and Natalya leave?"
"Brother..." the girl hissed, her hold on him loosening slightly. It was enough. He elbowed her as hard as he could in the gut and went for the knife. The motion distracted the two men at the end of the street. Natalya surprised Arthur with her strength and she managed to keep hold of it. She caught him across the jaw with a fist and Arthur realized with a sinking realization that unless someone did something, he was a goner. He saw the bullet tear through Natalya's upper arm as she raised the knife to finish him. She dropped the knife to clutch at the wound, running towards her brother. Alfred had a split second of hesitation and Braginski hit him hard against the back of the head with the barrel of his gun, sending the young man sprawling to the pavement.
Arthur lay on the ground stunned, as Braginski grabbed his sister's arm and disappeared from the alleyway. Alfred didn't move, Arthur forced himself to stand and go to him. He tapped him lightly on the shoulder. Nothing. Arthur pressed his fingers against his neck for a pulse. Blood pulsed steadily beneath his fingers. He let out a sigh of relief.
"What is going on, bastard! I heard gun shots!" Lovino yelled. Arthur looked up at him and found the man stomping down the alley towards him. "Do you want to bring the police... down... on... us..." His voice quieted as his eyes widened. He realized an officer was exactly what Arthur was kneeling over. Feliciano came to stand beside his brother, eyes wide with fear.
Arthur tried to hook an arm under the unconscious man, Alfred was bigger than he was and it was difficult. "He rescued me, I don't think he knows what I'm a part of." he lied. Arthur felt an overwhelming desire to help him. He would not leave him laying in the street.
"I won't have you nursing a cop in my restaurant!"
"Brother, Arthur pays rent on his room upstairs. You can't tell him he can't." Feliciano mentioned, trying to help.
Lovino turned to his younger brother, "I could throw him out."
"That would be mean, ve? That policeman just stood up to Ivan Braginski."
Lovino paled, "He what?"
"He was here. That's why he's like this. Scared off the 'angel of death' too." Arthur chimed in. "We owe him some thanks." He hoped the Italian's feelings of honor, he waited. Lovino glared at him for a minute, continuing to consider the request. He then let out a puff of air and waved him back inside the building. Feliciano offered to help carry the young man. He wasn't much help due to his size, but together they managed to push Alfred onto Arthur's thin bed.
"I will get him some ice." Feliciano said. He scurried out of the room and Arthur heard his footsteps disappearing down the stairs. Arthur pulled over a small stool that he had salvaged last year from a garbage heap and sat down. He took stock of his own injuries. He would likely have bruises on his limbs, and he had a small cut on his throat. He rubbed at the knick and finally risked a look at the man who had rescued him. Unconscious, Alfred looked much younger than he had suspected. He couldn't be older than twenty, he was a rookie indeed. He leaned closer unknowingly, taking in the soft blonde hair and the slight dusting of freckles across his nose. He reached out and removed his glasses. Luckily, they hadn't broken in his fall.
Arthur tenderly checked the back of the other's head with his fingers, grateful that when he didn't pull them back to be covered in blood. There was a fairly large bump, but that would heal quickly enough. He sat back on the stool, watching, wondering what he would say when Alfred woke up and realized he was in a strange place. He barely noticed that Feliciano had returned until the cold ice was pressed into his hand.
"Take good care of him?" Feliciano said, Arthur nodded. Arthur wasn't sure how he felt about the smug smile on his employers face. He tucked the cold pouch behind Alfred's head and waited.
~*~
Arthur couldn't bear to leave his side. He tossed and turned on a thin blanket on the cold floor, part of him worried that Ivan and Natalya would return to finish them off. Or worse, Alfred would kill him for bringing him here. He tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable, but too afraid to risk climbing in bed beside the other, despite how many times Feliciano suggested it.
"You won't..." he heard in his dreams. He shifted on the floor, humming a response to whatever was bothering him. He jolted out of his sleep when he felt a hand on his shoulder. "You won't get any sleep down there."
He reached up and switched on the oil lantern, freezing when he realized Alfred was looking down at him. His wide green eyes met Alfred's blue, the candlelight flickering across their pupils. He searched for something to say, "Uh... how are you feeling?"
"My head hurts." he replied, although he smiled, probably hoping to put Arthur more at ease. Instead, it sent Arthur's heart racing. "Thanks, for saving me."
"I should be saying that to you."
"I think I owe you twice now. Once for Natalya, and for not leaving me laying in the street. Who know what would have happened to me?" Arthur had an idea, and it wasn't pleasant. Even the thought of such a thing happening to Alfred pained him. He looked down at the floor, unable to look too long at those sky blue eyes. He froze when he felt Alfred's fingers on his chin. He had rolled over onto his stomach so he could reach him. He pulled his chin closer, and brushed their lips together. Arthur wondered if he was going to faint, or if he was indeed still dreaming. Alfred pulled back, "Considering that you haven't knocked me out again you must be like me..."
Arthur couldn't move, couldn't speak, still too stunned. Every thought had gone out of his head. This changed everything.
"I couldn't stop thinking about you since that day."
"I read a book about the west." Arthur blurted out, his cheeks blushing furiously. Alfred tilted his head, a curious look on his face. "I... uh... overheard you talking about your home. I haven't been able to get it out of my head."
Alfred gave him a sad smile, "I do miss home." He rolled back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. He shifted over, a silent offering to Arthur. He climbed up, latching his door, and crawling in beside the American. He could not deny that one of two of his dreams had leant themselves for such a fantasy. Although, it had involved a situation much more intimate. He blushed further when Alfred put his arm around him.
"I have some questions for you..." Alfred hummed to give him the go ahead. "First, why are you involved with the gangs? Second, why'd you leave home?"
"I care about people coming to justice. I don't like the looks of fear in everyone's eyes when they talk about the gangs. I was here investigating the restaurant cover for the speak-easy the loud Italian runs. Ultimately, they're not dangerous enough. Since you warned me about the girl, I decided to use her and attempt to get undercover with the Russians. And well... you saw how that ended..." his voice sounded tired and disappointed, "As far as home goes... you can say lack of justice ran me out."
Arthur nodded and listened, "What do you mean?"
"My father was killed by a horse thief back in Wyoming. When my family tried to bring him to justice, but he had used his men to pay off or intimidate the court. He got away scot free. I couldn't stand it... so I hunted him down and killed him." he paused then catching the emotion in his tone. When he spoke again, his words were cold as ice, "I don't regret it, but I had to leave. My family didn't have the money, I would have probably hung for it. Good thing my name is common, otherwise I probably wouldn't have been able to start a new life..."
"That's why you're here..."
"Yeah... what about you?" Arthur told him the story of the brothers who had left him one by one and his dreams of America. Alfred's arms tightened around him as he talked and he had to turn away from the warmth. He didn't need Alfred's pity, although the other was just as pitiful.
"We should get out of here..."
"I've been telling myself that ever since I got here."
"I've been considering heading to the mine country of Colorado, there's a lot of work to be done there."
"Where is that?"
"South of home."
"I know you don't know me..."
"I'd take you." That shocked Arthur into turning around and looking at him. Alfred certainly looked sincere. "You saved my life right? And besides..." he leaned close and pressed his lips to Arthur's once again, he pulled back and smiled at him, "I would have a hard time leaving you behind. I really couldn't stop thinking about you." The next kiss he gave him sent butterflies through his stomach. The plan, as crazy as it was, gave him some kind of hope. His stomach didn't twist in disgust at himself, this could be their secret. This man could be the ticket to his dreams, and anything was better than here.
"How will you justify your sudden departure to the city? I doubt the police will let you go any easier than the gangs. You know things about them." he asked when he could breathe again.
"I have a plan, we will be out of here by November. And no one will remember we ever were."
It was September when Alfred made that promise, and it was October 31st that it would be put into motion. He found a little patch of happiness, all the while he was waiting for the ax to fall and crush them all into oblivion.
~*~
He took another sip of the whiskey, feeling the liquid burn down his throat. He hadn't caught a glimpse of Alfred yet, and he was beginning to get nervous. The other man had been missing for two weeks, Arthur figured he couldn't be seen around the slums while he was working on overthrowing the Russian mob. He waited as patiently as he could, and arrived where he was expected. He could only hope to see him later tonight. He wandered to the edge of the room, hoping that he will in a better position to keep an eye on those that could cause him harm or derail Alfred's plan. So many people were coming and going that it was beginning to be difficult to determine which costumes he had seen. However, it was not difficult to tell the Russian siblings, they looked like royals sitting on a raised platform on one side of the room. They had hired a group of performers to entertain the crowd.
He watched the dancers, praying that this plan would work. Either way, he would be free by the end of the night. I'll either be on a train out of here, or I'll be dead. he thought to himself. Over the weeks he and Alfred had been planning this, he had seen the depths of Alfred's resolve to do what he considered right. Arthur didn't have the heart to say aloud that after the Russian were taken down another gang would just take their place, or the power vacuum would create a bloodbath. He had the feeling Alfred knew this, but was going to push ahead anyway. That was just his nature. He adjusted his mask when a group of giggling women walked by. He had seen them around the slums, and it would destroy everything if they recognized him.
Arthur glanced at the proud grandfather clock at one end of the room. Alfred was going to bring the police any minute to destroy the gang. To take down the king who ruled the alleys of New York with an iron fist. He rested his hand on his hip, feeling the reassuring metal of Alfred's pistol. He had given it to him the last time they had met. He had to be ready to make his move when Alfred gave the signal.
The clock began to chime the hour with loud bongs. The guests paid little notice. Now was the time and Alfred was nowhere to be seen. Arthur sat down his glass at the first table he came to and he began mingling, trying to find a glimpse of familiar blue eyes beneath a mask. His heart pounded with worry for a man he had come to love... although he was too afraid to say it aloud lest he jinx it. He had never felt this way before and he didn't want to lose it.
He began to move into position, wanting to be in the right place for when Alfred arrived. He rested his hand on the holster of the pistol, ready to draw it. He jumped when someone grabbed him by the arm, he reacted quickly, holding the pistol to the ribs of the man. He was wearing a half-mask and a cape, obscuring most of his features. Arthur examined him for a moment, realizing he recognized the soft curves of those lips... but the last time he had seen them, kissed them, there had been no cut down the middle.
"Alfred?" he whispered, hopefully. The man lifted his mask, and sure enough there he was, face still mostly obscured to others by the cowl. Arthur's mouth dropped open in shock. His pistol fell back into its holster and he reached up to gingerly touch the dark bruise that was causing one eye to swell shut. Alfred grabbed him by the shoulders.
"Arthur, you have to get out of here!"
"Who did this to you?" he hissed.
Alfred didn't answer, but began dragging him towards the door, "My employer, someone tipped them off that I was trying to protect someone in the gangs. They tried to beat the truth out of me, or a lie into me. I can't really remember all the details. I never knew... but I'm going to end this... You're gonna get out of here." Arthur tried to take it all in, had Alfred really not realized the police were just as corrupt? That they were mixed in with the underhanded dealings of the under city?
They were alone now, Alfred had taken him down a utility corridor. Arthur dug in his heels, all too aware of the use of the word 'you're' not 'we're'. Fear settled into his stomach, Alfred's voice had only been this cold once before, when he recalled the reason he had left home, when he had killed a man. "Alfred, who are you planning on taking out?"
Alfred paused, but didn't look him in the eye until Arthur grabbed him by the jaw and forced him. "Who are you planning on killing?" he asked again, more firmly.
"Them both."
"Ivan and...?"
"The Chief."
"Of police!?"
"He did this to me! And he... And he..." Alfred choked up, angry tears filling his eyes.
"He what?"
"He threatened you! Somehow he found out about you... and how I feel. I'm not going to let anything happen to you! You have no idea what I had to do to get here tonight... I told you, I'm going to make sure you're free."
Arthur was about to open his mouth and retort that Alfred had promised their freedom, when he heard a chuckle. The blood drained from Alfred's face.
"Great speech Jones, you were always full of inspiration. Too bad you double-crossed us and I have to get rid of you." The man appeared from the shadows, Gilbert Beilschmidt, the chief of police stood there. His weapon was pointed straight at them. Arthur only knew about his reputation from his younger brother, Ludwig. He knew the German man knew little about the Italian's business, but that he felt the need to protect them from his older brother. The brother that truly ruled this city. "You could have been awesome like me Jones, but you chose to throw in with a mob member. I hope he was good, because you're not going to see that piece of ass again after tonight."
Arthur's face turned bright red at the insult and opened his mouth to say something, but Alfred shoved his hand across his mouth, keeping him quiet. "I'll do whatever you want if you leave him out of it."
Beilschmisdt smiled, "Agreed. Now say goodbye to your Brit."
"Alfred, no..." he said softly, when Alfred removed his fingers.
"It'll be okay. But in case it's not... I love you, I have ever since I first laid eyes on you." He kissed him, the kiss was full of the longing for the future they were never going to have. He kissed him back, not caring about the man who could shoot them at any minute. After all, this could be their last moment. It ended too soon as Beilschmidt grabbed Alfred by the back of his costume, dragging him towards the ballroom.
"If I ever see your face again, trash, be sure that I'll remove it for you." the police chief threatened as they walked away.
Arthur slumped against the wall, emotion threatening to break him. He slid to the floor, wrapping his arms around himself hoping that he wouldn't break down. He knew he needed to move, Alfred coming to save him meant nothing if he was killed. He shifted, the holster slightly painful against his leg. His eyes flew open, and he reached for where the pistol was. It was gone! Alfred had taken it! He stood up, running down the hallway, those two must be back in the ballroom by now.
He reached the doorway just as the first shot rang out. He saw Gilbert Beilschmidt fall, and Alfred turned quickly to fire at Ivan. People were running everywhere as other gang members pulled their weapons on the assassin. Arthur tried to fight through the crush of bodies, being shoved this way and that trying to get to the man who was risking everything for what he thought was right. Arthur wanted him to be by his side, he needed someone with that much conviction. He was sure that together they could do anything.
His heart stopped when he saw Alfred take a bullet and go down hard. His momentum just kept carrying him there. He didn't even consider not dragging him out in the chaos. The cold night air hit them when he exited the building. Someone was ringing the fire bell and people had come out to stare. He disappeared down the alleys he knew better than he would have liked, hoping they would be able to find a train.
Alfred had fallen unconscious, "Hang in there... You have to live because I love you too." It was slow going since Alfred was heavier than he was, but he finally made it. Sneaking him into a cargo car. He finally paused to take a breath and inspect the wound. Thank heavens it had gone right through and the rounds were not explosive. He ripped at the cape of the costume and threw their masks into the corner. He bandaged the shoulder as best he could and gathered Alfred into his arms to keep them both warm. The train began to roll out sometime in the night, but he didn't risk moving the other man. The train would take them where it would.
It was around dawn when Alfred blinked his eyes open, he gave Arthur a weak smile, "Well, that could have gone better."
Arthur couldn't help but laugh, he hadn't been able to sleep, too worried. Instead he reached down and kissed him.
"It could have gone better, but you kept your promise."
"We're out?"
"All I can see are cornfields." he replied, gesturing at the small view they could see from inside the train. "We're free."
"We're free." Alfred echoed. He smiled.
For the first time since coming to America, Arthur felt some hope in his formerly dark world.
Entry Number: 11. Halloween Entry
Author: shuriken7
Fandom: Hetalia. Mafia AU.
Rating: PG-13 for violence.
Genre: Romance, Historical
Word Count: 7186
Summary: On Halloween, 1925 Arthur Kirkland's life was going to change. He would either end the night free of his criminal past or stone cold dead. He hoped that he would be able to run away, to be with the one he loved...
A/N: Dedicated to velted for being my inspiration for so many ways and sticking with me for so long. :) I hope you will find this enjoyable, even if it's far from perfect.
A/N 2: I'll admit this story is really rough. I have a hard time with writing long stories and this was really rushed (wrote it in the last 3 days to finish off this challenge). This is one that is certainly a first draft.
This was the night Arthur's life was going to change. All Hollow's Eve in the year 1925.
He pulled his Halloween mask down to obscure his face, hoping that no one would be able to recognize him behind it. The cloak he had swathed about him hid his body shape, so hopefully no one would suspect the normally slight man beneath it. He walked through the streets, heading towards the party on the pier. The party that did not exist as far as the general population knew, as far as anyone could tell from the outside, this ballroom was empty or perhaps a few performers were practicing on the lonely stage. Only people like Arthur would be there, people who had gotten far too deep into the criminal world. Tonight, everything would change for them as well.
He didn't know if the change would be for better or worse yet. He hoped that it he could make this move it would be for the better. He would be free of the mob and this dank and dirty city. He would be on a train heading to a place so far away these men that he stood with now would never be able to track him. He sipped at the glass of whiskey slowly, enough to not look suspicious, but not enough to get drunk and risk giving himself away. He had been clever enough so far, if only he could keep it up for a bit longer.
Just one more night. Alfred had promised him, Just one more night and we will be free.
~*~
Arthur never expected the blonde-haired young man to come into his life.
He had come to America seeking much and finding little. There had been days when Arthur couldn't believe he traded the streets of London for the streets of New York. People here could be uncaring and cruel. He could barely fit in with the Americans and the other immigrants wanted little to do with him. The American government had outlawed alcohol, which took away one of the few solaces he had. He would wrack his brain for a good reason for why he left, why he would choose such a miserable life on the streets of an unfamiliar city.
But then he would remember.
In the streets of London he had been a member of the starving working class. he had been barely able scrape by, hoping that his brothers to bring something home. However, as they grew older his brothers would leave for longer and longer periods of time. One day they stopped coming back altogether. When they were gone he would scrounge the garbage bins looking for throw-away novels. Many of them spoke of adventures in faraway places, but his favorite ones told stories of America. It seemed to be a place of endless opportunities, and adventures around every corner. One day, he gathered his meager belongings into a satchel and snuck on board a ship heading towards the United States.
When he arrived he'd been expecting so much more, only to have his dreams crushed left and right. Freedom seemed to just be an illusion, something the Americans stamped on a product. There had been moments where he was convinced that he was going to die. He had been living underneath a bridge when Feliciano found him. The Italian offered him a job at his restaurant, thinking that a hint of British would bring in customers. Little did he know that the generosity came at a cost. The restaurant was a front for the older Italian brother's business, dealing in illegal liquor and blackmail. Arthur's boss was a member of the minor family in the mob.
He had been working there the first time he had seen him, dressed in a crisp blue suit with the white-haired girl who had been watching the shop for weeks. Immediately, Arthur wondered if he was a member of the Russian gang. It was hardly any secret in the underbelly of the city that she was none other than the leader's sister. After taking their orders he went to the back to inform Feliciano. The younger Italian had scurried off to find his brother, begging Arthur to keep an eye on them.
He served them as nicely as he could, hovering just beyond the kitchen doors trying to capture snippets of conversation. It was all trivial, dating nonsense. No, there had to be something more. He glanced at the man. But then he couldn't look away. He had seen him before. But where?
The girl slid her hand over the man's and he smiled an annoyingly bright smile at her. He served their food and kept watching. He was completely American, that much was easy to tell in his accent, no traces of a mother country anywhere inside it. He wasn't thin as a rail, so he had a good enough job to feed himself. This man didn't look like anyone from this corner of the immigrant slums.
"So where are you from Alfred? Certainly not from around here?" the girl said, in a way she must have considered charming. Arthur wanted to gag. The young man merely smiled at her.
"I'm from Wyoming." The girl looked confused, so he added, "Out west. My grandparents had gone out to the territory from Kentucky during the Gold Rush. They didn't find anything though and just became cattle ranchers. It's all big and open and definitely not like here. You can see for miles and it's all trees and grasslands. You can ride a horse for days and never see another living soul..." He spoke about the area with such pride, Arthur had a hard time imagining it. He strained his ears hoping for a little bit more about this state that was farther than he had ever considered traveling.
The girl asked the question he had been wondering, "Why did you leave?"
Arthur peeked around the doorway, just in time to see Alfred's face twitch. Apparently, that wasn't something he was going to share on a first date. The lie was obvious, "Well, it was just too big and open." He hastily drank out of his glass as an excuse to put something in his mouth. Arthur brought them their food a few minutes later and giving them both a reason to be quiet.
However, after the food had been devoured, he still listened, hoping to hear more about this place out west. It sounded so peaceful compared to the dark and dank cities he had always known. He began to wonder how much a train ticket would be and if his employers would ever be able to track him that far...
By the time the Italian brother's returned, he realized where he had seen him. He had won an award from the city for outstanding service, it had been in the newspaper. The young man was a cop. Which was terrible, the police in this city might as well be their own gang. However, he could remember where he had seen this young man. Arthur had noticed him because he had grabbed a little girl out of the street before a street car could hit her. Her ball had rolled out. Everyone had applauded and the little girl had hugged him. He had been a hero, but he had just smiled and said it was all part of the job. He decided to keep the information to himself, since the mere presence of the girl seemed to send his employers into a frenzy. Lovino, the older brother, grabbed him roughly by the collar. His hands were shaking.
"Get rid of them, Arthur! She's using that fool for a cover! We don't want start anything with the Russians!" he hissed. Arthur glared at him.
"Or what?"
"You jerk, you'll be sorry. You won't be eating for a week, here or anywhere else in town."
"I know how to cook."
"That would be punishment enough, ve?" Feliciano butted in, trying to smooth the ruffled feathers. Arthur turned on his heel and stomped out of the kitchen. He didn't have to take this from those fools. And his cooking was just fine! He headed towards the table, hoping to speed them on their way and get his idiot bosses off his back. However, he wasn't going to make it completely painless for them.
"Is there anything else you would like today?" he asked, and he could almost hear the groan from the kitchen. The couple looked up at him interested.
"Do you have a dessert menu?" the man asked. Arthur passed it to him.
"You mean I won't be dessert enough?" the girl giggled, although it sounded rather forced and completely unnatural. Arthur resisted the urge to roll his eyes, he could see the angle now. Bed the stupid cop hoping to get some details. Probably kill him afterward. Arthur eyed the young man, it was doubtful that he was too high up in the police station, probably a rookie or at the most not too many years. He suddenly felt horrible, the poor lad probably had no idea the plans the woman had for him. He had to find some way to warn him.
As he grabbed the dessert tray out of the kitchen he had a sudden idea. He would have to time it just right and hope it didn't look too forced. He walked towards them with the food and at the right moment, sent himself and the tray falling, right into the undercover cop. The tiramisu had stuck to the front of his dark jacket. The white clinging to the fabric as the dish slowly slid down. Arthur apologized immediately and offered to take him in the back to get him cleaned up. The girl glared daggers at him and clutched at the dinner knife that remained at the table as though she would like nothing more than to thrust it between his ribs. It was probably true. As soon as they were out of sight he pushed the young man up against the wall. He could feel the gun barrel pressed against his stomach immediately.
The blue-eyes had turned cold, the light glinting off his glasses, "Let go and then tell me what you want."
Arthur released him, feeling stupid for not realizing an officer would be armed. He had taken them down to a back room opposite the kitchen and thus his bosses would never see what had happened until he was bleeding out on the floor. He realized then that he hadn't planned what he was going to say, just that he wanted to get this fool away from death. Apparently, he should have given the boy from Wyoming a little more credit. "That girl, she's... involved... with the Russians. You aren't exactly on your plains back home." he spat out, immediately regretting the extra sentence at the end. Why did he have to say something that would prove he was eavesdropping!?
Alfred's eyes narrowed, but with confusion, not suspicion. Had the idiot really not known? "I don't believe you. I know what you are."
Arthur had the horrifying realization that it wasn't just the silver-haired girl that was spying on them. This officer had his eye on them as well. Lovino was going to kill him, but he might as well make his pitiful life mean something. What was more noble than sacrificing your life for someone else? He was pretty sure he read that in a book once. "Well, you should because then it means that I know what I'm talking about. I tell you that she is planning on getting information from you and then killing you or worse." He had a bit of an idea what the worse would be, Ludwig, a friend of Feliciano's would warn of the terrifying things that could happen when one was captured by another gang. He had several long scars down the inside of one arm to prove it.
Alfred tilted his head slightly and just stared at him, confusion etching itself even more deeply in his features. Arthur could see why the Russians had chosen him as a target, he certainly could be worse to look at. "What is your name?"
It fell from his lips before he could consider the folly, "Arthur Kirkland."
"Thanks, Arthur Kirkland." Alfred tucked his weapon back inside his coat, "Now are you going to get me something to clean up with?" The smile he wore seemed far too confident and teasing for a man who could be murdered any moment by the Italian mob, while he had been busy sweet-talking a member of the Russian one. The man had to be an absolute idiot, Arthur decided. He hoped it wouldn't come back to haunt him. He offered Alfred his waiter's apron and the cop managed to get most of the cream off his jacket and he soon made his way back out to the table.
"I apologize for suggesting a place with such shoddy service." she said, throwing another dirty look at Arthur. He looked right back at her, he could see the murder in her eyes. She knew exactly what he was. He tried to keep his face still, although he could feel his heart start to race. What had he done? Was she suspicious that he tipped the other man off? He prayed that Alfred could keep a secret, and manage to extricate himself without revealing what he had learned?
Alfred through several glances over at him whenever he appeared outside the kitchen. Arthur caught a wink as he handed him the money to pay their bill. Arthur was fighting a blush, hardly anyone paid him attention. He couldn't be sure how he could feel about an undercover cop smiling at him. After they had left, Arthur leaned against the wall, knowing that this wasn't the end. Lovino came out of the kitchen, "What did you say to that man?"
"Who says I said anything?"
The Italian's eyes narrowed, "Don't play stupid with me, Caterpillar Brows, what was the deal with that stupid looking guy!? Is he working for the Russians too?"
"Nothing, he was just stupid. Will probably have his throat cut by morning. Am I done for the day?" While he was being waved off by the Italian, he sincerely hoped that he had saved the young man who remembered his home so fondly would still be alive the next day.
~*~
Arthur wondered for several weeks whether the blue-eyed officer and whether he had made it out of that evening with all his limbs intact. His face wearing that silly grin would pop into his head at the most inopportune times. He was just sweeping one day when he found his hands stilled and staring off into the distance. He had used a little of his pay to buy a western book at the small musty bookstore a few streets over. He had already read it twice, trying to imagine Alfred in such an environment. He tried imagining himself there. Why would anyone leave such a place? It seemed like paradise over the underbelly of New York.
"Arthur, what are you dreaming about?" asked the bubbly voice of Feliciano who was smiling at him from the doorway, "Have you met a pretty girl?"
His cheeks flushed, how could he have been making that face? He shook his head, "Nothing, just thinking."
"Well, less thinking and more sweeping." Lovino yelled from deeper within the restaurant. His orders to Arthur barked he went back to yelling at whoever it was on the phone, from the tone it must have been Antonio who was one of the suppliers. The man was far too happy go lucky and Arthur doubted that he realized exactly what kind of business Lovino was running out the back door. He began moving the broom again, ignoring Feliciano who stood by his side. The other was wearing the dopey smile that was typical of him, however, it seemed to Arthur that there was a hint of a knowing look.
"What does she look like Arthur, ve? Beautiful?"
Arthur sighed and wanted to tell the little fool to back off, but it was always hard to mean to the short man. "It's... not exactly a girl."
"Oh! You like men, ve?"
Arthur turned completely bright red, shame spreading across his entire body. The other man said it so casually! He admitted to himself long ago that he could be attracted to women and men, but it was not like that where this cop was concerned! "No!" he protested, and Feliciano looked confused, "I was thinking about some other places."
"Your home?"
"No, I was reading a book about the lands out west. They sound pretty amazing."
"And scary too! There are all kinds of outlaws! And people shoot each other! And there are wild animals that will eat people!" Arthur resisted the urge to tell him that there were plenty of outlaws and people being shot around her, the only thing lacking was the wild animals, but he decided it wasn't worth it. Especially since the phone had just been slammed back into its cradle at the end of Lovino's call with Antonio.
"I'll keep that in mind."
"You are much safer here, Arthur." Arthur received a pat on the hand and then he was alone, back to cleaning the sidewalk in front of the restaurant. He finished his chore with the accusation that he could have feelings for someone he had only met briefly, and a man no less! He threw the broom into the cupboard and grabbed his small box of tobacco and lighting paper. After folding himself a cigarette he grabbed a box of matches and headed for the alley behind the restaurant. His first drag calmed his nerves considerably.
He replayed the conversations he had been a part of ever since they realized that they were being watched by the sister of the Russian gang leader. Lovino had told him her name was Natalya and she was usually a sign the Russian's had planned their next mark. He had frowned, "The angel of death is on our doorstep." He had been traveling around the city spreading the word to the few others of the Italian mob he knew. From the time she first walked into the restaurant with the unknowing officer on her arm, the days had become cooler as the summer began fading into fall.
He would not even have noticed her if she had stayed where she was, but he caught a glimpse of white-blonde hair the moment before he saw the flash of the knife.
Natalya came at him so fast he was barely able to react, and she caught his shirt sleeve with the tip of her knife, tearing it. Her next attack was so quick that he wasn't able to finish his call for help. He ducked and dodged seeking something he could use to counter. He grabbed a trashcan lid to use as a makeshift shield. He blocked her blade, not understanding the words she was cursing at him. He wasn't entirely sure if it was Russian or English or anything else, Arthur was far too concerned with that blade not connecting with his flesh.
He was certain they were making noise, the knife rang loudly against the metal of the lid every time they met. His feet caught and he tripped over another trash can sending the object falling with a crash. He was certain he was finished as he she caught him by the arm. Arthur closed his eyes, expecting for the blade to slice right across his throat.
A shot rang out. "Natalya stop!" yelled a voice that made Arthur's heart start to pound even more than it already was. He opened his eyes and looked to the end of the alley. Alfred was not undercover this time, his blue uniform crisp and official. The pistol was held in one hand, Natalya at the other end of the barrel. He was too far away to step in, but probably not far enough away to make a deadly shot. The first one had been a warning. Arthur gasped when the girl reacted, pulling him in front of her and pressing the blade up against his throat.
Alfred gritted his teeth. "You do not want the innocent life of this man on your conscious, Officer Jones?" she teased, tightening the blade to the point where Arthur feared if he took too deep a breath he would slit his own throat. Alfred kept a study hand on the gun and his look of frustration turned to a grin, one much more deadly than the ones he had tossed in this girl's direction before.
"You know as well as I do that Arthur is not innocent." The man readied the gun for another shot, while Arthur felt his idiot heart flutter that the other man had remembered his name. He blamed it on the fact that he was the one with cold, sharp steel against his throat. He couldn't be blamed for how his body reacted. "Besides Natalya, I won't hit him with this bullet anyway. I can hit a rabbit between the eyes at a much farther distance than this. I'm giving you to the count of three to let him go and come quietly."
She tightened her grip and began to laugh. Alfred began to count aloud, beginning at three. He began to utter 'one' when the large shadow descended on him, its own gun held to the blonde man's head.
"Perhaps you would be so kind as to not shoot my little sister. Unless you want me painting this street with your blood." the man smiled. Arthur paled, Ivan Braginski was here. Everyone knew his name, but he was rarely seen outside of his speak-easy. The place was famous for flaunting its transgressions against the law. Too many officers were on his payroll... or they just ended up dead. Arthur looked at Alfred's face, there was no way that guy wasn't afraid of him, although it was impossible to tell from his expression.
"Perhaps you would so kindly remove your gun from my head before I do something about it?" Arthur had barely noticed it, but Alfred had a knife in one hand pressed against Braginski's stomach. "What's it going to be, Ivan? We all die? Or do you and Natalya leave?"
"Brother..." the girl hissed, her hold on him loosening slightly. It was enough. He elbowed her as hard as he could in the gut and went for the knife. The motion distracted the two men at the end of the street. Natalya surprised Arthur with her strength and she managed to keep hold of it. She caught him across the jaw with a fist and Arthur realized with a sinking realization that unless someone did something, he was a goner. He saw the bullet tear through Natalya's upper arm as she raised the knife to finish him. She dropped the knife to clutch at the wound, running towards her brother. Alfred had a split second of hesitation and Braginski hit him hard against the back of the head with the barrel of his gun, sending the young man sprawling to the pavement.
Arthur lay on the ground stunned, as Braginski grabbed his sister's arm and disappeared from the alleyway. Alfred didn't move, Arthur forced himself to stand and go to him. He tapped him lightly on the shoulder. Nothing. Arthur pressed his fingers against his neck for a pulse. Blood pulsed steadily beneath his fingers. He let out a sigh of relief.
"What is going on, bastard! I heard gun shots!" Lovino yelled. Arthur looked up at him and found the man stomping down the alley towards him. "Do you want to bring the police... down... on... us..." His voice quieted as his eyes widened. He realized an officer was exactly what Arthur was kneeling over. Feliciano came to stand beside his brother, eyes wide with fear.
Arthur tried to hook an arm under the unconscious man, Alfred was bigger than he was and it was difficult. "He rescued me, I don't think he knows what I'm a part of." he lied. Arthur felt an overwhelming desire to help him. He would not leave him laying in the street.
"I won't have you nursing a cop in my restaurant!"
"Brother, Arthur pays rent on his room upstairs. You can't tell him he can't." Feliciano mentioned, trying to help.
Lovino turned to his younger brother, "I could throw him out."
"That would be mean, ve? That policeman just stood up to Ivan Braginski."
Lovino paled, "He what?"
"He was here. That's why he's like this. Scared off the 'angel of death' too." Arthur chimed in. "We owe him some thanks." He hoped the Italian's feelings of honor, he waited. Lovino glared at him for a minute, continuing to consider the request. He then let out a puff of air and waved him back inside the building. Feliciano offered to help carry the young man. He wasn't much help due to his size, but together they managed to push Alfred onto Arthur's thin bed.
"I will get him some ice." Feliciano said. He scurried out of the room and Arthur heard his footsteps disappearing down the stairs. Arthur pulled over a small stool that he had salvaged last year from a garbage heap and sat down. He took stock of his own injuries. He would likely have bruises on his limbs, and he had a small cut on his throat. He rubbed at the knick and finally risked a look at the man who had rescued him. Unconscious, Alfred looked much younger than he had suspected. He couldn't be older than twenty, he was a rookie indeed. He leaned closer unknowingly, taking in the soft blonde hair and the slight dusting of freckles across his nose. He reached out and removed his glasses. Luckily, they hadn't broken in his fall.
Arthur tenderly checked the back of the other's head with his fingers, grateful that when he didn't pull them back to be covered in blood. There was a fairly large bump, but that would heal quickly enough. He sat back on the stool, watching, wondering what he would say when Alfred woke up and realized he was in a strange place. He barely noticed that Feliciano had returned until the cold ice was pressed into his hand.
"Take good care of him?" Feliciano said, Arthur nodded. Arthur wasn't sure how he felt about the smug smile on his employers face. He tucked the cold pouch behind Alfred's head and waited.
~*~
Arthur couldn't bear to leave his side. He tossed and turned on a thin blanket on the cold floor, part of him worried that Ivan and Natalya would return to finish them off. Or worse, Alfred would kill him for bringing him here. He tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable, but too afraid to risk climbing in bed beside the other, despite how many times Feliciano suggested it.
"You won't..." he heard in his dreams. He shifted on the floor, humming a response to whatever was bothering him. He jolted out of his sleep when he felt a hand on his shoulder. "You won't get any sleep down there."
He reached up and switched on the oil lantern, freezing when he realized Alfred was looking down at him. His wide green eyes met Alfred's blue, the candlelight flickering across their pupils. He searched for something to say, "Uh... how are you feeling?"
"My head hurts." he replied, although he smiled, probably hoping to put Arthur more at ease. Instead, it sent Arthur's heart racing. "Thanks, for saving me."
"I should be saying that to you."
"I think I owe you twice now. Once for Natalya, and for not leaving me laying in the street. Who know what would have happened to me?" Arthur had an idea, and it wasn't pleasant. Even the thought of such a thing happening to Alfred pained him. He looked down at the floor, unable to look too long at those sky blue eyes. He froze when he felt Alfred's fingers on his chin. He had rolled over onto his stomach so he could reach him. He pulled his chin closer, and brushed their lips together. Arthur wondered if he was going to faint, or if he was indeed still dreaming. Alfred pulled back, "Considering that you haven't knocked me out again you must be like me..."
Arthur couldn't move, couldn't speak, still too stunned. Every thought had gone out of his head. This changed everything.
"I couldn't stop thinking about you since that day."
"I read a book about the west." Arthur blurted out, his cheeks blushing furiously. Alfred tilted his head, a curious look on his face. "I... uh... overheard you talking about your home. I haven't been able to get it out of my head."
Alfred gave him a sad smile, "I do miss home." He rolled back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. He shifted over, a silent offering to Arthur. He climbed up, latching his door, and crawling in beside the American. He could not deny that one of two of his dreams had leant themselves for such a fantasy. Although, it had involved a situation much more intimate. He blushed further when Alfred put his arm around him.
"I have some questions for you..." Alfred hummed to give him the go ahead. "First, why are you involved with the gangs? Second, why'd you leave home?"
"I care about people coming to justice. I don't like the looks of fear in everyone's eyes when they talk about the gangs. I was here investigating the restaurant cover for the speak-easy the loud Italian runs. Ultimately, they're not dangerous enough. Since you warned me about the girl, I decided to use her and attempt to get undercover with the Russians. And well... you saw how that ended..." his voice sounded tired and disappointed, "As far as home goes... you can say lack of justice ran me out."
Arthur nodded and listened, "What do you mean?"
"My father was killed by a horse thief back in Wyoming. When my family tried to bring him to justice, but he had used his men to pay off or intimidate the court. He got away scot free. I couldn't stand it... so I hunted him down and killed him." he paused then catching the emotion in his tone. When he spoke again, his words were cold as ice, "I don't regret it, but I had to leave. My family didn't have the money, I would have probably hung for it. Good thing my name is common, otherwise I probably wouldn't have been able to start a new life..."
"That's why you're here..."
"Yeah... what about you?" Arthur told him the story of the brothers who had left him one by one and his dreams of America. Alfred's arms tightened around him as he talked and he had to turn away from the warmth. He didn't need Alfred's pity, although the other was just as pitiful.
"We should get out of here..."
"I've been telling myself that ever since I got here."
"I've been considering heading to the mine country of Colorado, there's a lot of work to be done there."
"Where is that?"
"South of home."
"I know you don't know me..."
"I'd take you." That shocked Arthur into turning around and looking at him. Alfred certainly looked sincere. "You saved my life right? And besides..." he leaned close and pressed his lips to Arthur's once again, he pulled back and smiled at him, "I would have a hard time leaving you behind. I really couldn't stop thinking about you." The next kiss he gave him sent butterflies through his stomach. The plan, as crazy as it was, gave him some kind of hope. His stomach didn't twist in disgust at himself, this could be their secret. This man could be the ticket to his dreams, and anything was better than here.
"How will you justify your sudden departure to the city? I doubt the police will let you go any easier than the gangs. You know things about them." he asked when he could breathe again.
"I have a plan, we will be out of here by November. And no one will remember we ever were."
It was September when Alfred made that promise, and it was October 31st that it would be put into motion. He found a little patch of happiness, all the while he was waiting for the ax to fall and crush them all into oblivion.
~*~
He took another sip of the whiskey, feeling the liquid burn down his throat. He hadn't caught a glimpse of Alfred yet, and he was beginning to get nervous. The other man had been missing for two weeks, Arthur figured he couldn't be seen around the slums while he was working on overthrowing the Russian mob. He waited as patiently as he could, and arrived where he was expected. He could only hope to see him later tonight. He wandered to the edge of the room, hoping that he will in a better position to keep an eye on those that could cause him harm or derail Alfred's plan. So many people were coming and going that it was beginning to be difficult to determine which costumes he had seen. However, it was not difficult to tell the Russian siblings, they looked like royals sitting on a raised platform on one side of the room. They had hired a group of performers to entertain the crowd.
He watched the dancers, praying that this plan would work. Either way, he would be free by the end of the night. I'll either be on a train out of here, or I'll be dead. he thought to himself. Over the weeks he and Alfred had been planning this, he had seen the depths of Alfred's resolve to do what he considered right. Arthur didn't have the heart to say aloud that after the Russian were taken down another gang would just take their place, or the power vacuum would create a bloodbath. He had the feeling Alfred knew this, but was going to push ahead anyway. That was just his nature. He adjusted his mask when a group of giggling women walked by. He had seen them around the slums, and it would destroy everything if they recognized him.
Arthur glanced at the proud grandfather clock at one end of the room. Alfred was going to bring the police any minute to destroy the gang. To take down the king who ruled the alleys of New York with an iron fist. He rested his hand on his hip, feeling the reassuring metal of Alfred's pistol. He had given it to him the last time they had met. He had to be ready to make his move when Alfred gave the signal.
The clock began to chime the hour with loud bongs. The guests paid little notice. Now was the time and Alfred was nowhere to be seen. Arthur sat down his glass at the first table he came to and he began mingling, trying to find a glimpse of familiar blue eyes beneath a mask. His heart pounded with worry for a man he had come to love... although he was too afraid to say it aloud lest he jinx it. He had never felt this way before and he didn't want to lose it.
He began to move into position, wanting to be in the right place for when Alfred arrived. He rested his hand on the holster of the pistol, ready to draw it. He jumped when someone grabbed him by the arm, he reacted quickly, holding the pistol to the ribs of the man. He was wearing a half-mask and a cape, obscuring most of his features. Arthur examined him for a moment, realizing he recognized the soft curves of those lips... but the last time he had seen them, kissed them, there had been no cut down the middle.
"Alfred?" he whispered, hopefully. The man lifted his mask, and sure enough there he was, face still mostly obscured to others by the cowl. Arthur's mouth dropped open in shock. His pistol fell back into its holster and he reached up to gingerly touch the dark bruise that was causing one eye to swell shut. Alfred grabbed him by the shoulders.
"Arthur, you have to get out of here!"
"Who did this to you?" he hissed.
Alfred didn't answer, but began dragging him towards the door, "My employer, someone tipped them off that I was trying to protect someone in the gangs. They tried to beat the truth out of me, or a lie into me. I can't really remember all the details. I never knew... but I'm going to end this... You're gonna get out of here." Arthur tried to take it all in, had Alfred really not realized the police were just as corrupt? That they were mixed in with the underhanded dealings of the under city?
They were alone now, Alfred had taken him down a utility corridor. Arthur dug in his heels, all too aware of the use of the word 'you're' not 'we're'. Fear settled into his stomach, Alfred's voice had only been this cold once before, when he recalled the reason he had left home, when he had killed a man. "Alfred, who are you planning on taking out?"
Alfred paused, but didn't look him in the eye until Arthur grabbed him by the jaw and forced him. "Who are you planning on killing?" he asked again, more firmly.
"Them both."
"Ivan and...?"
"The Chief."
"Of police!?"
"He did this to me! And he... And he..." Alfred choked up, angry tears filling his eyes.
"He what?"
"He threatened you! Somehow he found out about you... and how I feel. I'm not going to let anything happen to you! You have no idea what I had to do to get here tonight... I told you, I'm going to make sure you're free."
Arthur was about to open his mouth and retort that Alfred had promised their freedom, when he heard a chuckle. The blood drained from Alfred's face.
"Great speech Jones, you were always full of inspiration. Too bad you double-crossed us and I have to get rid of you." The man appeared from the shadows, Gilbert Beilschmidt, the chief of police stood there. His weapon was pointed straight at them. Arthur only knew about his reputation from his younger brother, Ludwig. He knew the German man knew little about the Italian's business, but that he felt the need to protect them from his older brother. The brother that truly ruled this city. "You could have been awesome like me Jones, but you chose to throw in with a mob member. I hope he was good, because you're not going to see that piece of ass again after tonight."
Arthur's face turned bright red at the insult and opened his mouth to say something, but Alfred shoved his hand across his mouth, keeping him quiet. "I'll do whatever you want if you leave him out of it."
Beilschmisdt smiled, "Agreed. Now say goodbye to your Brit."
"Alfred, no..." he said softly, when Alfred removed his fingers.
"It'll be okay. But in case it's not... I love you, I have ever since I first laid eyes on you." He kissed him, the kiss was full of the longing for the future they were never going to have. He kissed him back, not caring about the man who could shoot them at any minute. After all, this could be their last moment. It ended too soon as Beilschmidt grabbed Alfred by the back of his costume, dragging him towards the ballroom.
"If I ever see your face again, trash, be sure that I'll remove it for you." the police chief threatened as they walked away.
Arthur slumped against the wall, emotion threatening to break him. He slid to the floor, wrapping his arms around himself hoping that he wouldn't break down. He knew he needed to move, Alfred coming to save him meant nothing if he was killed. He shifted, the holster slightly painful against his leg. His eyes flew open, and he reached for where the pistol was. It was gone! Alfred had taken it! He stood up, running down the hallway, those two must be back in the ballroom by now.
He reached the doorway just as the first shot rang out. He saw Gilbert Beilschmidt fall, and Alfred turned quickly to fire at Ivan. People were running everywhere as other gang members pulled their weapons on the assassin. Arthur tried to fight through the crush of bodies, being shoved this way and that trying to get to the man who was risking everything for what he thought was right. Arthur wanted him to be by his side, he needed someone with that much conviction. He was sure that together they could do anything.
His heart stopped when he saw Alfred take a bullet and go down hard. His momentum just kept carrying him there. He didn't even consider not dragging him out in the chaos. The cold night air hit them when he exited the building. Someone was ringing the fire bell and people had come out to stare. He disappeared down the alleys he knew better than he would have liked, hoping they would be able to find a train.
Alfred had fallen unconscious, "Hang in there... You have to live because I love you too." It was slow going since Alfred was heavier than he was, but he finally made it. Sneaking him into a cargo car. He finally paused to take a breath and inspect the wound. Thank heavens it had gone right through and the rounds were not explosive. He ripped at the cape of the costume and threw their masks into the corner. He bandaged the shoulder as best he could and gathered Alfred into his arms to keep them both warm. The train began to roll out sometime in the night, but he didn't risk moving the other man. The train would take them where it would.
It was around dawn when Alfred blinked his eyes open, he gave Arthur a weak smile, "Well, that could have gone better."
Arthur couldn't help but laugh, he hadn't been able to sleep, too worried. Instead he reached down and kissed him.
"It could have gone better, but you kept your promise."
"We're out?"
"All I can see are cornfields." he replied, gesturing at the small view they could see from inside the train. "We're free."
"We're free." Alfred echoed. He smiled.
For the first time since coming to America, Arthur felt some hope in his formerly dark world.