Of Silence and Thievery (22/34)
Title : Of Silence and Thievery
Genre : humor, action/adventure, fantasy and, of course, romance
Pairings: USUK main, minor others (Seychelles/France, Spain/Romano, Prussia/Hungary/Austria, etc)
Rating: R
Warnings: AU, human names used, fantasy plot line ^_^ future sexy times
Summary: Arthur had a voice, a good one, but it's been stolen from him and he's prepared to do everything he can to get it back. Even traversing across the world with a bunch of lunatics with a leader who just might be his hero after all.
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P.S. Reviews would be lovely :D
Previous Chapter
Of Silence and Thievery
Chapter Twenty-Two: Where Shit Hits the Proverbial Fan
“Alfred. Can you stop making goo-goo eyes at Arthur for all of two minutes and actually listen to what I’m asking?” Alfred blinked and smiled winningly up at Seychelles. He didn’t remove his arm from where it was comfortably draped over Arthur’s shoulders, not even when Arthur turned red and tried to scoot away (he got embarrassed over the silliest things, seriously).
“Sorry, what do you need?”
Seychelles brushed some hair out of her face and fixed her eye at him. “I want you to come here for a moment and look at something with me. I can’t quite make out what it is, but it looks like it could be a sea-beast.”
Alfred untangled himself from Arthur and took the spyglass Seychelles was holding out to him, turning around and looking where Seychelles pointed. It took him a few minutes to find what she meant, but eventually he spotted the tell-tale white surf against the dark ocean. “Well, it looks like a wave, but this far out, and as big as the swell looks, you’re probably right. What do you think? A whale?”
Seychelles made a noncommittal sound and Alfred tried to focus the spyglass a little further. “It’s the right size, but whales generally don’t come near ships, and I think the Medii is still a little too shallow for them this close to the coastline. Plus, doesn’t it look like it’s coming straight for us?”
Alfred looked through the glass again and was surprised to see the whatever-it-was had gotten closer to them; it did look like it was heading towards them. He hummed in agreement and shared a look with Seychelles, her eye narrowing out over the ocean for a moment before she turned around and started shouting out instructions to the crew. Battles instructions-those were something he hadn’t heard in a while, not since Arthur had joined them. Arthur stood up and Alfred grinned at him encouragingly; this was Arthur’s first potential sea battle, naturally he was probably a little nervous. “Don’t worry, Artie, it’s probably just a shark or something; sometimes the bigger ones charge ships. It doesn’t look big enough to be a kraken or sea dragon.”
Arthur shook his head and grabbed the spyglass out of Alfred’s hands, looking through it with a focused, unruffled look on his face that kind of annoyed Alfred (and not because Alfred had been scared shitless his first sea battle and Arthur apparently couldn’t care less…of course not). Arthur’s brows furrowed as he focused further, and then he was shoving it back into Alfred’s hands and shaking his head as he gestured out to the charging thing wildly. There, panicking Arthur, that was a lot better.
“Aw, now don’t get all worked up, I’m sure whatever it is looks awful, but we’ve definitely handled stuff like this before and-”
No, you idiot, not that. It’s not a sea beast!
It was Alfred’s turn to look confused and he brought the spyglass back up to look at that thingymabob again, ignoring as two of the crew members ran past the pair of them, jostling them enough that Arthur nearly lost his footing. “What do you mean it’s not a sea monster? What the hell else would charge a ship from under the water? I don’t see anything, just a swell of waves and a blond…a blond head?! ‘Chelles! ‘Chelles, I think that thing is a person!”
Arthur rolled his eyes and started to mouth the expected ‘I told you so,’ but the ship rocked to the left and a huge spout of ocean water erupted from the starboard side. Arthur lost his footing and Alfred nearly fell over reaching to grab him before he hit the deck (falling on wet wood did NOT feel good and almost always broke bones as Alfred had learned a few times over); other surprised cries and grunts echoed over the ship as Seychelles took the helm and steadied the Evangeline out. Alfred steadied himself and Arthur, then gave him a quick once over to make sure he didn’t bump anything.
“You all right?”
Arthur nodded, his eyes fixed at something over his shoulder; Alfred narrowed his eyes at him and made to ask what he was zoning out over (and could he show a little more appreciation for Alfred’s heroics, jeez), when Arthur took hold of his shoulder and bodily turned him around. Oh-well, that explained why Arthur looked so baffled and surprised. It was Nikolai.
Alfred was surprised to see Nikolai standing on the ship’s deck, dripping wet, and a very long ways from home. The Nordsman didn’t explain what the hell he was doing here after a few minutes of punctuated silence, or why he’d basically torpedoed himself at their ship, but to his credit, he didn’t look like he could very much more than just stand there without falling over. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Seychelles handed off the helm to one of her crewmen and hurried down to Nikolai, her braid flying behind her as she went. Alfred took that as his cue to head over as well, and like that, everyone seemed to converge on the man.
“Nikolai, what the hell are you doing here?” Gilbert.
“Has Ivan attacked you again, are the rest of you all right?” Vash.
“How long have you been following us?” Esther.
“Guys, give the guy a minute, he looks like he’s about to collapse.” Alfred gave everyone a look before focusing on Nikolai with curious concern. He wanted to know the answers to all those questions too, but he could be patient and wait for the guy to catch his breath (really, he could). Kiku appeared with what looked like a bowl of soup and some water and handed it to Nikolai, who took it and gulped them both down with awe-inspiring speed. Alfred felt Arthur come up beside him and he handed Alfred a towel; he took it and flashed him a grateful grin before he handed the towel to Nikolai.
The Nordsman looked more aware as he traded out the food and water dishes for the towel and gave an unspecific nod of thanks as he wiped the towel over his face and through his hair. Then, he took a deep breath and held out a hand, drawing all the rest of the water clinging to his body and clothes out until it rested in a whirling globe in his palm; he flung the globe over the side and Alfred couldn’t help but think what freaking awesome Talents the Nords brothers all had. He still looked like shit, but more up to meet their questioning eyes with pale blue eyes that were steely with determination. He nodded again and handed back the towel (Rosa grabbed it and tossed it back in one, continuous motion, nearly hitting Sadiq in the face as she did so).
“Thank you.”
“Of course, Nikolai, you looked about to drop dead to the deck.” Seychelles kept her voice light and professional as she met Nikolai’s eyes. “I think I speak for everyone, however, when I ask you what you’re doing all the way in the Medii. Especially when you and your brothers have told us on several occasions you’re responsibilities require you to stay in the Nords.”
Nikolai nodded shortly. “And that remains true. However, the Balance takes a long view of things and if something comes up that requires one of us to leave the forest for an extended period of time, we can.”
“What came up?” Vash again. “And why did you need to find us?”
Nikolai met Vash’s stare for a moment too long, just long enough for grumbles to start up in everyone else before Seychelles shushed them quiet. Then, slowly, Nikolai turned towards Alfred, his face curiously remorseful (it made Alfred’s stomach clench and grab a hold of Arthur’s hand, to make sure he was still there). Braginski had done something, it had to be that, Alfred decided, and whatever it had been it was something serious enough to drive Nikolai halfway across Avrupa searching for them. Alfred hadn’t forgotten how much Braginski wanted Arthur, wanted him like he had wanted Toris, even if most of the rest of the crew seemed to think he lost interest. He must have done something to Arthur’s family, maybe friends of his-he mentioned he had a younger brother, maybe Braginski had-Alfred squeezed Arthur’s hand tighter at the thought.
Maybe Arthur wasn’t as close with his brothers as Alfred was with his, but he’d still be devastated if Braginski had killed one of them. All of them-who knew. Nikolai did, apparently.
“Tino and I have both been keeping closer tabs on the Balance of late-we’ve been hearing whispers and ghosts that something’s wrong, and recently, they’ve been circling around Ivan Braginski.”
“So you travelled hundreds of miles to tell us that Ivan is messing with some serious shit? I think we could’ve figured that out with a letter, man.” Gilbert crossed his arms across his chest and stared at Nikolai with distrust. “That’s not why you came all the way out here.”
Nikolai shook his head but didn’t look upset by the suspicion being shot his way. “Obviously not, but to understand the how, you must first listen to the why.”
“Ok, so you and Tino were looking into what Ivan was doing then,” Seychelles interjected. She shot Gilbert a stern look; he rolled his eyes but focused back on Nikolai’s lips so he could follow what he was saying. “Something happened then, right?”
“Yes.” Nikolai turned back and met Alfred’s eyes again, glancing over at Arthur for a brief moment before coming back to him; this time, everyone seemed to pick up on it, not just Alfred. “Tino reached down into the earth and the Balance showed him a vision-in Merica.”
Merica? Wait…what? Why would he…not Britannia? No, no it couldn’t-
“Ivan had been there and when Tino tried to earth-call your brother, Alfred, he was met without a response. He looked closer and saw your home had been destroyed, and the Balance whispered a lot of things he couldn’t understand, but the one thing he did was that whatever Ivan was doing was connected to his perversion of the Balance. He took Matthew, Alfred.”
There wasn’t any noise on the ship, but Alfred had this horrible ringing in his ears, like he’d been too close to one of those gunpowder pistols Vash had going off, and his vision was off, like it wasn’t focusing properly. Matthew was…he’d been safe. He was safe in Merica now that Ivan had what he wanted so why was Nikolai telling him he was gone? It wasn’t right, it didn’t make sense-Tino had to have been wrong. “No, no he’s-that’s not right, Mattie’s not a threat, Braginski wouldn’t-you’re wrong.”
Alfred let go of Arthur’s hand and clenched his fists tight at the horrible, pitying look he could see everyone giving him, even Nikolai looked a little bit upset and that guy never showed emotion. “Tino was not wrong, Alfred. I am sorry, but Matthew was-”
“Why the hell would he get taken?! Braginski already has his Talent, he doesn’t take people he doesn’t view as a threat!”
“Alfred-” Alfred turned to glare at Seychelles’ pacifying tone, body thrumming together even tighter, coiling until he felt like he was one second away from screaming because his brother could not be taken, not after all this time, not after Alfred had been sure he was safe in Merica, he was safe on his own as Alfred scoured the world for Braginski. He met Alejandro’s face, the large man folded in on himself and looking half of his considerable size, already admitting defeat that Matthew was gone; Alfred felt disgusted at the sight. This guy was supposed to care about Matthew and he was just giving up? Resigned that Matthew had become another Toris, even though there was no reason for Braginski to take him? Well fuck that. “Alfred, listen to me-”
Mattie couldn’t be gone, Alfred couldn’t have failed twice at protecting him; he wasn’t that bad of an older brother.
“Alfred-san-”
He was supposed to be safe, that’s what he’d told himself whenever he didn’t pressure Mattie into joining the Evangeline.
“Fuck, man, Alfred, you’re going to break your damn hand! Someone want to help me out here?! He’s going to smash straight through the fucking beam!” Alfred felt other arms try to tug him away from the mast but he flung all of them off of him.
Braginski had…Alfred was going to kill him. If he had hurt his brother, if he took him and anything happened to Mattie, Alfred was going to kill that bastard. Matthew wasn’t-
Alfred. Love, you’re going to break the mast if you punch through it. A warm, newly calloused hand glided across his forearm and wrapped fingers around his fist, gently tugging it away from the splintered wood. Alfred blinked and looked over to meet Arthur’s green eyes, brighter and closer than usual; he took Alfred’s fist and slowly worked it open until he could wrap his fingers around Alfred’s. Arthur kept his eyes focused on Alfred and he started to rub a thumb across the knuckles on his other fist in smooth, measured strokes; Alfred felt a little bit of guilt work its way into his heart amidst all the rage, hurt, and fear at wishing, even for just a tiny bit, that his initial thought had been true and Braginski had attacked Arthur’s brothers, not his own.
And then, it clicked, the reason why Braginski had taken Matthew. To get to Alfred, Alfred who had been defying him for years and had most recently stopped him (with some help) from taking Arthur in the Nords. So, he took Matthew instead-and Alfred, so caught up in Arthur and the whirlwind craziness of what he felt for the other man, had allowed it to happen. When was the last time he’d visited Matthew? Months…a year? Or written a letter, or sent a trinket or souvenir he thought his brother would like? When was the last time he could remember sitting down and actively missing his brother? Sure, he reminisced and told stories and always wished his brother was there but-but Alfred couldn’t remember the last time he had really missed his brother. Well, that was a lie, he could remember the last time.
Before they sprung Arthur from that prison in Britannia.
Before Arthur had joined them and wove himself so tightly within Alfred’s life-he had trouble thinking about who he’d been or what he cared about, besides Mattie, before him. Before Arthur had kissed him, touched him, and made him feel like he’d found a part of himself he hadn’t known existed, the only person he cared for on the same level was Matthew and now-now he was gone, captured, and Alfred had spent the better part of the last few months trying to feel up and get naked with Arthur has much as humanly possible on board a tight-quartered ship. More guilt built inside him; a horrible, sickening, self-hating guilt that felt like someone was squeezing all of his organs at once. Alfred had always thought he was a pretty cool guy but now, now he felt like the most self-centered, selfish, low-life on the planet, and he wouldn’t be surprised if his brother hated him (and while that was a horrible thought, it was better than thinking what-ifs about Braginski killing him).
Arthur’s hands made him feel even worse, like he wanted to puke or something but couldn’t; he didn’t deserve those hands or his kindness, or anything. He tugged himself away and turned back towards Nikolai. “How long have you been trailing us? How long has he-?”
“Close to two moons ago, that was when Tino first felt the whispers regarding your brother.” Two...two months. His brother had been captured and had been a prisoner of that bastard for two months? He really was going to be sick; that or break something. “I wish the news I had to bring was better, but if it’s any comfort, I do not believe your brother is dead. Ivan may be mad, but if he had wanted to kill your brother, he would have done so and not bothered with the secrecy. He would have already made it known. And now you know that your brother is where Ivan will be-hopefully this will mean you will exercise some restraint should you find Ivan.”
Alejandro grunted, a horrible, wet and wounded sound, and then he was gone, stomping back inside the ship, undoubtedly towards his cabin to be alone; Alfred didn’t blame him, he wanted to be alone too. Sure, they were heading towards Braginski’s hide out and maybe they’d be able to find Matthew there but-who knew how long it would take them to get there, how long Matthew would be at the bastard’s mercy. And now with Nikolai’s warnings about not barging in there, weapons blazing…what if his brother got caught up in the crossfire? Just, just shit, it was all shit now.
“I-” Seychelles began. Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat before trying again; her eyes were very bright. “Thank you, Nikolai, for bringing us this news. It is-it helps to be informed. Do you need to rest before you leave? We have food if you need any, and there’s a spare cot in Vash’s room.”
Nikolai started responding, but the ringing was back in Alfred’s ears and he needed to get away, couldn’t stand being there with everyone mourning Matthew, even though Nikolai had just said he probably wasn’t dead. That was good, right? At least his brother was still alive, trapped by that fucking monster, having who knows what happened to him. Oh yes, alive was so much better. He let out a deep, guttural breath and followed Alejandro’s lead, pushing off the multiple attempts at comfort or whatever everyone was offering him, trying to ignore the way Arthur’s eyes followed him down in the ship’s hull.
It was his entire fucking fault, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to break down in front of everyone else. The hero had to stay strong and all, even when they were broken.
*****
Once Alfred had left the deck, noise seemed to explode all at once, as if everyone had been holding back for Alfred’s and Alejandro’s sakes. Seychelles rubbed at her temples and tried to push back the budding headache born from the sadness and grief she felt over Matthew’s abduction-she cared for him just like she cared for Alfred. He was like a little brother in some ways, but she was a captain first and foremost. Her crew needed her to be centered and in control; she took a deep breath and then whistled sharply, the shrill noise drawing attention away from Nikolai (who still looked about ready to collapse) and she straightened her spine tall. Everyone’s eyes, with the exception of Arthur’s (but it wasn’t like he would cause much of a ruckus so she didn’t mind if his mind wandered off), swung to her and she met them with silence before striding forward. She clapped Nikolai on the shoulder bracingly, for which she got an unimpressed look from the man in exchange, before addressing her crew.
“Look, I know we’re all worried about Matthew, or at least worried about why Ivan would show interest in him now after so much time,” she nodded at Esther and Rosa at that part. “But we have a mission to do and we’ve been working for years toward it; we can’t let him distract us now, not when we’re so close and the only thing that will be keeping us from his spying will be Kiku’s masking spell.”
She turned and focused her gaze on Kiku, noting that he looked just as stricken as Arthur did. She hadn’t thought he was very close to Matthew, but he and Alfred did get along so maybe he was just worried for Alfred. “We’re still a go with that, right Kiku?”
He blinked and took a deep breath before he nodded and met Seychelles’ eye. “Yes, Seychelles-sama. The spell will not block him completely, as that would only arouse suspicion from him, but it should keep our location vague and indeterminate. Given this most recent news…I think he will only view it as a preventative measure against his attacks.”
She narrowed her eye. “You think he meant for us to know Matthew is gone? Even after all this time?”
Kiku nodded and his face started to calm again. “Yes, I think he did. Isn’t it much worse now? Knowing that our friend has been missing for so long while we knew nothing of it?”
Seychelles had to admit, he had a very good point; just thinking of all the different celebrations they’d had since Matthew had been taken-it made her feel nauseous. “Good then, one less thing to stress about. Now, we’re all worried, but if we’re all still on track with our plan, I don’t see why a rescue mission can’t coincide. But we’re not going to do anyone any good if we let Ivan wind us up like this, make us careless.”
The crew was beginning to nod along with her words and she took a moment to relax a little. Gilbert still looked upset, but she could see his eyes hardening as the anger morphed into focus; Esther and Rosa were relaxing, now that the chance for an argument with anyone about changing the focus of their mission was waning. Vash looked upset, but like Gilbert, it was morphing into something she could use; Francis, who had been closest with Matthew after Seychelles (and Alfred of course), had stopped pacing the deck. Kiku looked nothing like he had before, all traces of fear, sadness, and guilt gone from his face. And Sadiq, well, he still looked angry, but Seychelles knew it wasn’t from knowing Matthew, but rather because Ivan had taken someone else-he hated Ivan more than most on board did and there was no chance at redirecting that hatred. It worked for him though-and if it worked for him, then it worked for the crew as far as she was concerned.
Alejandro would need some time, but once she let him grieve, she would talk to him individually-she knew how much he cared about Matthew, had watched the surprising, but sweet, romance develop between the pair of them the last time they had visited Merica. Next to Alfred, he would be the hardest to keep from doing something stupid. And as for Alfred-she glanced up and stared at Arthur until he sensed the stare and met her gaze. She wasn’t the person who would need to talk to Alfred. Besides, it would probably do Arthur some good. He was a clever man, he had probably already come to the same conclusion she had regarding Matthew’s abduction and why Ivan took him.
Ivan hadn’t been able to take Arthur, but Matthew, well; he was a whole other story. And they both were important to Alfred. Arthur set his jaw and gave her a small, brief nod before he headed down the deck and towards the cabins. She hoped that Arthur would be able to get through to Alfred, because as much as she cared for him she couldn’t have Alfred getting reckless at this stage. Not when they were so close to actually doing something about Ivan instead of hopelessly chasing him down, always arriving just a smidgeon too late. She wondered for a moment if Ivan had counted on this, had counted on Matthew’s abduction to deter them from their current mission-but he couldn’t know they knew where he was. They had been so careful. She took a deep breath and pushed aside the urge to pinch her temples as she shouted out duties for her crew.
She was captain; the time to grieve, worry, and hypothesize about Ivan’s intentions could come later.
******
Arthur had no clue what he was supposed to fucking say.
Really, what could you say to the man you’d inexplicably fallen for, at the most inconvenient of times, whose brother was kidnapped likely because you couldn’t be taken? ‘Sorry to hear about your brother, Alfred old chap, but at least I’m still here?’ Or, ‘you’ve probably worked out that it’s somewhat my fault your brother got taken by a life-stealing lunatic, but I’m really sorry about all of that…kisses?’ Yes, he was sure either of those, along with the other equally horrible sounding alternatives in his head, would work fantastically-but, if anyone had to try and talk to Alfred it should be him. He knew that if Alfred was going to listen to anyone it would probably be him; he just wasn’t sure of the reason why. Would he listen to him because he and Arthur shared a connection and he trusted him in a way that was different than anyone else on board? Or would it be just so he could rage all his hurt and frustration out on Arthur who, legitimately, couldn’t blame him if he wanted to?
Arthur didn’t know which one was worse.
He made his way down to the shared cabins he and Alfred had moved into, and while he was confident that Alfred couldn’t hear him (silence had its benefits), he probably was expecting Arthur to come see him. He took a deep, fortifying breath and knocked at their door once he reached it; silence was his answer and Arthur pushed the unlocked door open. Alfred was sitting hunched over at the far side of the bed, his hands fisted and the knuckles red on top of the sheets; Arthur knew he probably wasn’t, but Alfred looked like he was vibrating, as if what he was feeling was too much to stay contained in his skin and had to escape somehow. He stepped inside and shut the door as softly as he could, locking it behind him in case anyone from the crew (aka Gilbert) decided the solution to Alfred’s problem was drinking and lots of it. Alfred had to have heard the door shut and lock, but he stayed motionless on the bed.
Alfred. He stayed still and didn’t acknowledge Arthur’s greeting, so Arthur stepped forward, slow and steady to give Alfred time to warn him off if he didn’t want Arthur near him. He didn’t sit down beside him; instead, he took up a spot in front of their porthole directly in front of him. He stood just as motionless as Alfred was for a spell before he tried again. Alfred. Alfred, I know you can hear me. It’s the drawback of this bloody pendant, you can’t just shut me out unless you make me take the damn thing off.
If Alfred truly did not want to talk to him, Arthur wanted him to know that he had the choice to take the pendant off, but Arthur wouldn’t do it for him. Alfred still would not move and Arthur huffed silently and narrowed his eyes down at the crown of Alfred’s head. I’m taking you’re inaction as a go ahead to keep talking, so you better well listen to me. Sitting in here, raging at yourself and Ivan, it isn’t going to change what’s happened. I know you must be terrified for your brother, but-
“You know? You don’t know anything about it. You don’t even like your brothers, you told me that. You don’t know anything.”
Well, at least he was talking and not a catatonic zombie about to explode. Arthur would take what he could, even if it was looking like he and Alfred were barreling straight towards something awful. Just because my relationship with my brothers is not what you have with yours does not mean you are suddenly the expert on what it feels like when someone you care about is in trouble or hurt and you’re helpless to stop it!
Alfred looked up at him then, his glasses off and blue eyes hard underneath the fringe of his blond hair; it was an intimidating look and one Arthur had seen, but had never had directed at him before. Arthur had never been one to back down from a fight before though, so he tilted his chin down and challenged him right back; Alfred glared and Arthur braced himself as the tall man got to his feet. “Oh and you’re so all knowing, right? Ok, fine, then why don’t you drum up some pretty words and tell me how I’m supposed to be ok with the fact that the psychopath kidnapped my little brother and is keeping him prisoner? Or, about how I’m supposed to deal with that he’s been captured for months, having gods know what being done to him, and I’ve been busy drinking and celebrating and fu-”
Alfred cut himself off with a frustrated growl, tugging his hands roughly through his hair and nearly elbowing Arthur in the process (he’d gotten awful close during his outburst and Arthur was fairly certain there was spittle in his hair and tunic). Arthur had already heard it though, and a fresh well of hurt bubbled up past the guilt and worry he felt, even though he’d told himself this could happen and Alfred was just upset. It still hurt like a bitch to hear it out loud.
And fucking, Alfred? Fucking me and getting fucked yourself? If you’re going to say it like that, then you better well get used to the sound.
Alfred glared at him and he was back in Arthur’s space, forcing him to take a step back lest his feet get stomped on. “No, no you don’t get to act all uppity right now! You don’t get-you’re just-just no! Matthew’s gone and I should’ve fucking been there but instead I was here, with you, not even caring about what happened to him because all I could think about was you and how I felt about you and what the hell was going on in your head about me! And now he’s gone and it’s-it’s my, your…it’s all just shit and if I want to be fucking mad, then I can and fuck you if you’re going to stand there and judge me about it!”
Alfred was crowding Arthur and it felt too hot for how chilled his back was, nearly pressed against the porthole. Alfred’s eyes were wet, dangerously so, and he really was shaking, looking feverish in his craze. And, even though Alfred’s words pierced him in a way his brothers never managed too, similar to the way his father’s had whenever he caught Arthur using his Voice without meaning too, he swallowed and pushed it down because Alfred needed him to stay in control, to help him. So, he reached up and tried not to wince when Alfred’s hand caught his wrist to hard, likely bruising the bone with how tight he held him back.
It’s not your fault, Alfred.
“Then whose is it? Yours?”
Arthur met Alfred’s eyes and saw that Alfred wasn’t throwing that blame around; he’d come to the same conclusion he and Seychelles (and likely the rest of the fucking crew, Ladies tits) already had. Is that what you want me to say? That it’s my fault he took your brother? Because I can tell you, you’re not the only one thinking that. If me saying it will help you in some way then fine, yes, it’s because of me. Ivan tried to take me and when he couldn’t, he went after someone he knew you cared about, because I’m sure that had something to do with why he took your brother now instead of before. It all fits so nicely, like a present specifically wrapped up and gifted for you to rage at and I can’t even blame you because it probably is true.
Alfred’s eyes cleared just a little and he waved aside Arthur’s words as if they only frustrated him more. “Don’t be stupid, it’s not like you told Braginski to do anything.”
And you did? I only call you an idiot to make sure you’re ego doesn’t take over the rest of you, but if you truly think that I’m not at blame but you somehow can be, then you’re the biggest moron I’ve ever met!
“He wasn’t your brother! Matthew’s my responsibility and he’s always been since our folks died! It’s not the same!”
You’re right, it’s not the same-I’ve never even met the man, but I bet if he were here, he’d tell you to belt up and stop blaming yourself for what that deranged man decided to do! Arthur looked down and rubbed at the bridge of his nose, wishing he had water or something nearby to help soothe away the rawness he felt building in his throat. When he looked back up, one silent throat clearing later, he saw that Alfred’s eyes had gone wet and he looked about ready to collapse in on himself, as if he’d been punctured by Arthur’s words and all the rage had whooshed straight out. Alfred…
“You’re right, he wouldn’t-but I wasn’t there though, Arthur! I wasn’t there and I should’ve been and now he’s gone! How is that-how can I-I just want him back!” He pitched forward, curling down and around Arthur, knocking him fully into the wall with nothing to do but wrap Alfred up closer. So, he did that; he wrapped Alfred up as if he were no bigger than a child and ran what he hoped were soothing hands down his back, murmuring hushed words and comforts into his ear (which was ridiculous because it wasn’t like Alfred would really ‘hear’ his words from there, but still…). Murmuring to calm down, that he was there, that they’d get Matthew back and all other sorts of nonsense that was supposed to mean something to Alfred.
His mother had done this when he’d been a boy, and Arthur remembered the soft gentle brush of her fingertips and her comforts against his cheek; she always managed to bring him back from whatever dark place his mind wandered to with the simple touches. He’d seen Alfred upset, sad, happy, and a whole plethora of other emotions before, but never quite at this magnitude, never quite with the shaking intensity he was trying to bundle up in his arms now. Arthur’s chest ached for Alfred, for his pain and loss and helplessness at the situation-and he didn’t know how to fix any of it. So, he held Alfred and hoped that the younger man took some comfort or peace in him, in his words, like he’d been able to take from his mother.
He held Alfred until the shaking subsided, and when Alfred pulled away enough for Arthur to reach, he wiped at his cheeks with his thumbs until the only evidence of his breakdown was left in the redness of his eyes. Alfred stared at him for a moment after and then ducked his head down, but he wrapped up Arthur close again. “It’s not your fault either, Arthur.”
It’s more mine than yours, you know that. Because it was, and Arthur had to live with that, but he wasn’t going to burden Alfred with anything else to worry about.
“No.” The word was hot and fierce in Arthur’s ear and Alfred pulled back so that their eyes met; Alfred’s eyes were still wet, but they were also ablaze with purpose and conviction. “No, it’s not. The only person I want you to blame is fucking Braginski. Only him, all right?”
Alfr-
Arthur’s word choked off as Alfred swooped in and pressed a hot, demanding kiss to his lips. When Alfred pulled back, Arthur felt dizzy and off center and could only blink up at Alfred in response. “No, I know you’re thinking it’s because of you, but it’s not, Arthur. It’s not. I need you to not blame yourself because I need you here and I-please, Arthur? Please don’t.”
He was babbling, speaking in half sentences that only made partial sense to Arthur, but he thought he knew what Alfred was trying to say, so he nodded. He’d try not to think the obvious about why Matthew had been taken so he could help Alfred with his own misplaced guilt. Because Alfred had just lost his brother…he couldn’t lose Arthur too. He nodded again and again and Alfred clutched him even tighter, buried his face in Arthur’s neck, and started shaking again, this time without the tears. And as he held him close, he whispered wild words into his neck, the words falling almost likes kisses would along his skin. Words that frightened Arthur because he knew Alfred meant them.
“I’m not going to let him take you, I won’t. And he can’t keep Mattie, I won’t let him-I’ll save him and you and kill Braginski if I have to. I will, I will I will. He can’t have either of you.”
And if Alfred meant them…how far would he go to keep them?
Next Chapter
Genre : humor, action/adventure, fantasy and, of course, romance
Pairings: USUK main, minor others (Seychelles/France, Spain/Romano, Prussia/Hungary/Austria, etc)
Rating: R
Warnings: AU, human names used, fantasy plot line ^_^ future sexy times
Summary: Arthur had a voice, a good one, but it's been stolen from him and he's prepared to do everything he can to get it back. Even traversing across the world with a bunch of lunatics with a leader who just might be his hero after all.
Note: You can follow updates on this story and others now on Tumblr here.
P.S. Reviews would be lovely :D
Previous Chapter
Of Silence and Thievery
Chapter Twenty-Two: Where Shit Hits the Proverbial Fan
“Alfred. Can you stop making goo-goo eyes at Arthur for all of two minutes and actually listen to what I’m asking?” Alfred blinked and smiled winningly up at Seychelles. He didn’t remove his arm from where it was comfortably draped over Arthur’s shoulders, not even when Arthur turned red and tried to scoot away (he got embarrassed over the silliest things, seriously).
“Sorry, what do you need?”
Seychelles brushed some hair out of her face and fixed her eye at him. “I want you to come here for a moment and look at something with me. I can’t quite make out what it is, but it looks like it could be a sea-beast.”
Alfred untangled himself from Arthur and took the spyglass Seychelles was holding out to him, turning around and looking where Seychelles pointed. It took him a few minutes to find what she meant, but eventually he spotted the tell-tale white surf against the dark ocean. “Well, it looks like a wave, but this far out, and as big as the swell looks, you’re probably right. What do you think? A whale?”
Seychelles made a noncommittal sound and Alfred tried to focus the spyglass a little further. “It’s the right size, but whales generally don’t come near ships, and I think the Medii is still a little too shallow for them this close to the coastline. Plus, doesn’t it look like it’s coming straight for us?”
Alfred looked through the glass again and was surprised to see the whatever-it-was had gotten closer to them; it did look like it was heading towards them. He hummed in agreement and shared a look with Seychelles, her eye narrowing out over the ocean for a moment before she turned around and started shouting out instructions to the crew. Battles instructions-those were something he hadn’t heard in a while, not since Arthur had joined them. Arthur stood up and Alfred grinned at him encouragingly; this was Arthur’s first potential sea battle, naturally he was probably a little nervous. “Don’t worry, Artie, it’s probably just a shark or something; sometimes the bigger ones charge ships. It doesn’t look big enough to be a kraken or sea dragon.”
Arthur shook his head and grabbed the spyglass out of Alfred’s hands, looking through it with a focused, unruffled look on his face that kind of annoyed Alfred (and not because Alfred had been scared shitless his first sea battle and Arthur apparently couldn’t care less…of course not). Arthur’s brows furrowed as he focused further, and then he was shoving it back into Alfred’s hands and shaking his head as he gestured out to the charging thing wildly. There, panicking Arthur, that was a lot better.
“Aw, now don’t get all worked up, I’m sure whatever it is looks awful, but we’ve definitely handled stuff like this before and-”
No, you idiot, not that. It’s not a sea beast!
It was Alfred’s turn to look confused and he brought the spyglass back up to look at that thingymabob again, ignoring as two of the crew members ran past the pair of them, jostling them enough that Arthur nearly lost his footing. “What do you mean it’s not a sea monster? What the hell else would charge a ship from under the water? I don’t see anything, just a swell of waves and a blond…a blond head?! ‘Chelles! ‘Chelles, I think that thing is a person!”
Arthur rolled his eyes and started to mouth the expected ‘I told you so,’ but the ship rocked to the left and a huge spout of ocean water erupted from the starboard side. Arthur lost his footing and Alfred nearly fell over reaching to grab him before he hit the deck (falling on wet wood did NOT feel good and almost always broke bones as Alfred had learned a few times over); other surprised cries and grunts echoed over the ship as Seychelles took the helm and steadied the Evangeline out. Alfred steadied himself and Arthur, then gave him a quick once over to make sure he didn’t bump anything.
“You all right?”
Arthur nodded, his eyes fixed at something over his shoulder; Alfred narrowed his eyes at him and made to ask what he was zoning out over (and could he show a little more appreciation for Alfred’s heroics, jeez), when Arthur took hold of his shoulder and bodily turned him around. Oh-well, that explained why Arthur looked so baffled and surprised. It was Nikolai.
Alfred was surprised to see Nikolai standing on the ship’s deck, dripping wet, and a very long ways from home. The Nordsman didn’t explain what the hell he was doing here after a few minutes of punctuated silence, or why he’d basically torpedoed himself at their ship, but to his credit, he didn’t look like he could very much more than just stand there without falling over. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. Seychelles handed off the helm to one of her crewmen and hurried down to Nikolai, her braid flying behind her as she went. Alfred took that as his cue to head over as well, and like that, everyone seemed to converge on the man.
“Nikolai, what the hell are you doing here?” Gilbert.
“Has Ivan attacked you again, are the rest of you all right?” Vash.
“How long have you been following us?” Esther.
“Guys, give the guy a minute, he looks like he’s about to collapse.” Alfred gave everyone a look before focusing on Nikolai with curious concern. He wanted to know the answers to all those questions too, but he could be patient and wait for the guy to catch his breath (really, he could). Kiku appeared with what looked like a bowl of soup and some water and handed it to Nikolai, who took it and gulped them both down with awe-inspiring speed. Alfred felt Arthur come up beside him and he handed Alfred a towel; he took it and flashed him a grateful grin before he handed the towel to Nikolai.
The Nordsman looked more aware as he traded out the food and water dishes for the towel and gave an unspecific nod of thanks as he wiped the towel over his face and through his hair. Then, he took a deep breath and held out a hand, drawing all the rest of the water clinging to his body and clothes out until it rested in a whirling globe in his palm; he flung the globe over the side and Alfred couldn’t help but think what freaking awesome Talents the Nords brothers all had. He still looked like shit, but more up to meet their questioning eyes with pale blue eyes that were steely with determination. He nodded again and handed back the towel (Rosa grabbed it and tossed it back in one, continuous motion, nearly hitting Sadiq in the face as she did so).
“Thank you.”
“Of course, Nikolai, you looked about to drop dead to the deck.” Seychelles kept her voice light and professional as she met Nikolai’s eyes. “I think I speak for everyone, however, when I ask you what you’re doing all the way in the Medii. Especially when you and your brothers have told us on several occasions you’re responsibilities require you to stay in the Nords.”
Nikolai nodded shortly. “And that remains true. However, the Balance takes a long view of things and if something comes up that requires one of us to leave the forest for an extended period of time, we can.”
“What came up?” Vash again. “And why did you need to find us?”
Nikolai met Vash’s stare for a moment too long, just long enough for grumbles to start up in everyone else before Seychelles shushed them quiet. Then, slowly, Nikolai turned towards Alfred, his face curiously remorseful (it made Alfred’s stomach clench and grab a hold of Arthur’s hand, to make sure he was still there). Braginski had done something, it had to be that, Alfred decided, and whatever it had been it was something serious enough to drive Nikolai halfway across Avrupa searching for them. Alfred hadn’t forgotten how much Braginski wanted Arthur, wanted him like he had wanted Toris, even if most of the rest of the crew seemed to think he lost interest. He must have done something to Arthur’s family, maybe friends of his-he mentioned he had a younger brother, maybe Braginski had-Alfred squeezed Arthur’s hand tighter at the thought.
Maybe Arthur wasn’t as close with his brothers as Alfred was with his, but he’d still be devastated if Braginski had killed one of them. All of them-who knew. Nikolai did, apparently.
“Tino and I have both been keeping closer tabs on the Balance of late-we’ve been hearing whispers and ghosts that something’s wrong, and recently, they’ve been circling around Ivan Braginski.”
“So you travelled hundreds of miles to tell us that Ivan is messing with some serious shit? I think we could’ve figured that out with a letter, man.” Gilbert crossed his arms across his chest and stared at Nikolai with distrust. “That’s not why you came all the way out here.”
Nikolai shook his head but didn’t look upset by the suspicion being shot his way. “Obviously not, but to understand the how, you must first listen to the why.”
“Ok, so you and Tino were looking into what Ivan was doing then,” Seychelles interjected. She shot Gilbert a stern look; he rolled his eyes but focused back on Nikolai’s lips so he could follow what he was saying. “Something happened then, right?”
“Yes.” Nikolai turned back and met Alfred’s eyes again, glancing over at Arthur for a brief moment before coming back to him; this time, everyone seemed to pick up on it, not just Alfred. “Tino reached down into the earth and the Balance showed him a vision-in Merica.”
Merica? Wait…what? Why would he…not Britannia? No, no it couldn’t-
“Ivan had been there and when Tino tried to earth-call your brother, Alfred, he was met without a response. He looked closer and saw your home had been destroyed, and the Balance whispered a lot of things he couldn’t understand, but the one thing he did was that whatever Ivan was doing was connected to his perversion of the Balance. He took Matthew, Alfred.”
There wasn’t any noise on the ship, but Alfred had this horrible ringing in his ears, like he’d been too close to one of those gunpowder pistols Vash had going off, and his vision was off, like it wasn’t focusing properly. Matthew was…he’d been safe. He was safe in Merica now that Ivan had what he wanted so why was Nikolai telling him he was gone? It wasn’t right, it didn’t make sense-Tino had to have been wrong. “No, no he’s-that’s not right, Mattie’s not a threat, Braginski wouldn’t-you’re wrong.”
Alfred let go of Arthur’s hand and clenched his fists tight at the horrible, pitying look he could see everyone giving him, even Nikolai looked a little bit upset and that guy never showed emotion. “Tino was not wrong, Alfred. I am sorry, but Matthew was-”
“Why the hell would he get taken?! Braginski already has his Talent, he doesn’t take people he doesn’t view as a threat!”
“Alfred-” Alfred turned to glare at Seychelles’ pacifying tone, body thrumming together even tighter, coiling until he felt like he was one second away from screaming because his brother could not be taken, not after all this time, not after Alfred had been sure he was safe in Merica, he was safe on his own as Alfred scoured the world for Braginski. He met Alejandro’s face, the large man folded in on himself and looking half of his considerable size, already admitting defeat that Matthew was gone; Alfred felt disgusted at the sight. This guy was supposed to care about Matthew and he was just giving up? Resigned that Matthew had become another Toris, even though there was no reason for Braginski to take him? Well fuck that. “Alfred, listen to me-”
Mattie couldn’t be gone, Alfred couldn’t have failed twice at protecting him; he wasn’t that bad of an older brother.
“Alfred-san-”
He was supposed to be safe, that’s what he’d told himself whenever he didn’t pressure Mattie into joining the Evangeline.
“Fuck, man, Alfred, you’re going to break your damn hand! Someone want to help me out here?! He’s going to smash straight through the fucking beam!” Alfred felt other arms try to tug him away from the mast but he flung all of them off of him.
Braginski had…Alfred was going to kill him. If he had hurt his brother, if he took him and anything happened to Mattie, Alfred was going to kill that bastard. Matthew wasn’t-
Alfred. Love, you’re going to break the mast if you punch through it. A warm, newly calloused hand glided across his forearm and wrapped fingers around his fist, gently tugging it away from the splintered wood. Alfred blinked and looked over to meet Arthur’s green eyes, brighter and closer than usual; he took Alfred’s fist and slowly worked it open until he could wrap his fingers around Alfred’s. Arthur kept his eyes focused on Alfred and he started to rub a thumb across the knuckles on his other fist in smooth, measured strokes; Alfred felt a little bit of guilt work its way into his heart amidst all the rage, hurt, and fear at wishing, even for just a tiny bit, that his initial thought had been true and Braginski had attacked Arthur’s brothers, not his own.
And then, it clicked, the reason why Braginski had taken Matthew. To get to Alfred, Alfred who had been defying him for years and had most recently stopped him (with some help) from taking Arthur in the Nords. So, he took Matthew instead-and Alfred, so caught up in Arthur and the whirlwind craziness of what he felt for the other man, had allowed it to happen. When was the last time he’d visited Matthew? Months…a year? Or written a letter, or sent a trinket or souvenir he thought his brother would like? When was the last time he could remember sitting down and actively missing his brother? Sure, he reminisced and told stories and always wished his brother was there but-but Alfred couldn’t remember the last time he had really missed his brother. Well, that was a lie, he could remember the last time.
Before they sprung Arthur from that prison in Britannia.
Before Arthur had joined them and wove himself so tightly within Alfred’s life-he had trouble thinking about who he’d been or what he cared about, besides Mattie, before him. Before Arthur had kissed him, touched him, and made him feel like he’d found a part of himself he hadn’t known existed, the only person he cared for on the same level was Matthew and now-now he was gone, captured, and Alfred had spent the better part of the last few months trying to feel up and get naked with Arthur has much as humanly possible on board a tight-quartered ship. More guilt built inside him; a horrible, sickening, self-hating guilt that felt like someone was squeezing all of his organs at once. Alfred had always thought he was a pretty cool guy but now, now he felt like the most self-centered, selfish, low-life on the planet, and he wouldn’t be surprised if his brother hated him (and while that was a horrible thought, it was better than thinking what-ifs about Braginski killing him).
Arthur’s hands made him feel even worse, like he wanted to puke or something but couldn’t; he didn’t deserve those hands or his kindness, or anything. He tugged himself away and turned back towards Nikolai. “How long have you been trailing us? How long has he-?”
“Close to two moons ago, that was when Tino first felt the whispers regarding your brother.” Two...two months. His brother had been captured and had been a prisoner of that bastard for two months? He really was going to be sick; that or break something. “I wish the news I had to bring was better, but if it’s any comfort, I do not believe your brother is dead. Ivan may be mad, but if he had wanted to kill your brother, he would have done so and not bothered with the secrecy. He would have already made it known. And now you know that your brother is where Ivan will be-hopefully this will mean you will exercise some restraint should you find Ivan.”
Alejandro grunted, a horrible, wet and wounded sound, and then he was gone, stomping back inside the ship, undoubtedly towards his cabin to be alone; Alfred didn’t blame him, he wanted to be alone too. Sure, they were heading towards Braginski’s hide out and maybe they’d be able to find Matthew there but-who knew how long it would take them to get there, how long Matthew would be at the bastard’s mercy. And now with Nikolai’s warnings about not barging in there, weapons blazing…what if his brother got caught up in the crossfire? Just, just shit, it was all shit now.
“I-” Seychelles began. Her voice cracked and she cleared her throat before trying again; her eyes were very bright. “Thank you, Nikolai, for bringing us this news. It is-it helps to be informed. Do you need to rest before you leave? We have food if you need any, and there’s a spare cot in Vash’s room.”
Nikolai started responding, but the ringing was back in Alfred’s ears and he needed to get away, couldn’t stand being there with everyone mourning Matthew, even though Nikolai had just said he probably wasn’t dead. That was good, right? At least his brother was still alive, trapped by that fucking monster, having who knows what happened to him. Oh yes, alive was so much better. He let out a deep, guttural breath and followed Alejandro’s lead, pushing off the multiple attempts at comfort or whatever everyone was offering him, trying to ignore the way Arthur’s eyes followed him down in the ship’s hull.
It was his entire fucking fault, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to break down in front of everyone else. The hero had to stay strong and all, even when they were broken.
*****
Once Alfred had left the deck, noise seemed to explode all at once, as if everyone had been holding back for Alfred’s and Alejandro’s sakes. Seychelles rubbed at her temples and tried to push back the budding headache born from the sadness and grief she felt over Matthew’s abduction-she cared for him just like she cared for Alfred. He was like a little brother in some ways, but she was a captain first and foremost. Her crew needed her to be centered and in control; she took a deep breath and then whistled sharply, the shrill noise drawing attention away from Nikolai (who still looked about ready to collapse) and she straightened her spine tall. Everyone’s eyes, with the exception of Arthur’s (but it wasn’t like he would cause much of a ruckus so she didn’t mind if his mind wandered off), swung to her and she met them with silence before striding forward. She clapped Nikolai on the shoulder bracingly, for which she got an unimpressed look from the man in exchange, before addressing her crew.
“Look, I know we’re all worried about Matthew, or at least worried about why Ivan would show interest in him now after so much time,” she nodded at Esther and Rosa at that part. “But we have a mission to do and we’ve been working for years toward it; we can’t let him distract us now, not when we’re so close and the only thing that will be keeping us from his spying will be Kiku’s masking spell.”
She turned and focused her gaze on Kiku, noting that he looked just as stricken as Arthur did. She hadn’t thought he was very close to Matthew, but he and Alfred did get along so maybe he was just worried for Alfred. “We’re still a go with that, right Kiku?”
He blinked and took a deep breath before he nodded and met Seychelles’ eye. “Yes, Seychelles-sama. The spell will not block him completely, as that would only arouse suspicion from him, but it should keep our location vague and indeterminate. Given this most recent news…I think he will only view it as a preventative measure against his attacks.”
She narrowed her eye. “You think he meant for us to know Matthew is gone? Even after all this time?”
Kiku nodded and his face started to calm again. “Yes, I think he did. Isn’t it much worse now? Knowing that our friend has been missing for so long while we knew nothing of it?”
Seychelles had to admit, he had a very good point; just thinking of all the different celebrations they’d had since Matthew had been taken-it made her feel nauseous. “Good then, one less thing to stress about. Now, we’re all worried, but if we’re all still on track with our plan, I don’t see why a rescue mission can’t coincide. But we’re not going to do anyone any good if we let Ivan wind us up like this, make us careless.”
The crew was beginning to nod along with her words and she took a moment to relax a little. Gilbert still looked upset, but she could see his eyes hardening as the anger morphed into focus; Esther and Rosa were relaxing, now that the chance for an argument with anyone about changing the focus of their mission was waning. Vash looked upset, but like Gilbert, it was morphing into something she could use; Francis, who had been closest with Matthew after Seychelles (and Alfred of course), had stopped pacing the deck. Kiku looked nothing like he had before, all traces of fear, sadness, and guilt gone from his face. And Sadiq, well, he still looked angry, but Seychelles knew it wasn’t from knowing Matthew, but rather because Ivan had taken someone else-he hated Ivan more than most on board did and there was no chance at redirecting that hatred. It worked for him though-and if it worked for him, then it worked for the crew as far as she was concerned.
Alejandro would need some time, but once she let him grieve, she would talk to him individually-she knew how much he cared about Matthew, had watched the surprising, but sweet, romance develop between the pair of them the last time they had visited Merica. Next to Alfred, he would be the hardest to keep from doing something stupid. And as for Alfred-she glanced up and stared at Arthur until he sensed the stare and met her gaze. She wasn’t the person who would need to talk to Alfred. Besides, it would probably do Arthur some good. He was a clever man, he had probably already come to the same conclusion she had regarding Matthew’s abduction and why Ivan took him.
Ivan hadn’t been able to take Arthur, but Matthew, well; he was a whole other story. And they both were important to Alfred. Arthur set his jaw and gave her a small, brief nod before he headed down the deck and towards the cabins. She hoped that Arthur would be able to get through to Alfred, because as much as she cared for him she couldn’t have Alfred getting reckless at this stage. Not when they were so close to actually doing something about Ivan instead of hopelessly chasing him down, always arriving just a smidgeon too late. She wondered for a moment if Ivan had counted on this, had counted on Matthew’s abduction to deter them from their current mission-but he couldn’t know they knew where he was. They had been so careful. She took a deep breath and pushed aside the urge to pinch her temples as she shouted out duties for her crew.
She was captain; the time to grieve, worry, and hypothesize about Ivan’s intentions could come later.
******
Arthur had no clue what he was supposed to fucking say.
Really, what could you say to the man you’d inexplicably fallen for, at the most inconvenient of times, whose brother was kidnapped likely because you couldn’t be taken? ‘Sorry to hear about your brother, Alfred old chap, but at least I’m still here?’ Or, ‘you’ve probably worked out that it’s somewhat my fault your brother got taken by a life-stealing lunatic, but I’m really sorry about all of that…kisses?’ Yes, he was sure either of those, along with the other equally horrible sounding alternatives in his head, would work fantastically-but, if anyone had to try and talk to Alfred it should be him. He knew that if Alfred was going to listen to anyone it would probably be him; he just wasn’t sure of the reason why. Would he listen to him because he and Arthur shared a connection and he trusted him in a way that was different than anyone else on board? Or would it be just so he could rage all his hurt and frustration out on Arthur who, legitimately, couldn’t blame him if he wanted to?
Arthur didn’t know which one was worse.
He made his way down to the shared cabins he and Alfred had moved into, and while he was confident that Alfred couldn’t hear him (silence had its benefits), he probably was expecting Arthur to come see him. He took a deep, fortifying breath and knocked at their door once he reached it; silence was his answer and Arthur pushed the unlocked door open. Alfred was sitting hunched over at the far side of the bed, his hands fisted and the knuckles red on top of the sheets; Arthur knew he probably wasn’t, but Alfred looked like he was vibrating, as if what he was feeling was too much to stay contained in his skin and had to escape somehow. He stepped inside and shut the door as softly as he could, locking it behind him in case anyone from the crew (aka Gilbert) decided the solution to Alfred’s problem was drinking and lots of it. Alfred had to have heard the door shut and lock, but he stayed motionless on the bed.
Alfred. He stayed still and didn’t acknowledge Arthur’s greeting, so Arthur stepped forward, slow and steady to give Alfred time to warn him off if he didn’t want Arthur near him. He didn’t sit down beside him; instead, he took up a spot in front of their porthole directly in front of him. He stood just as motionless as Alfred was for a spell before he tried again. Alfred. Alfred, I know you can hear me. It’s the drawback of this bloody pendant, you can’t just shut me out unless you make me take the damn thing off.
If Alfred truly did not want to talk to him, Arthur wanted him to know that he had the choice to take the pendant off, but Arthur wouldn’t do it for him. Alfred still would not move and Arthur huffed silently and narrowed his eyes down at the crown of Alfred’s head. I’m taking you’re inaction as a go ahead to keep talking, so you better well listen to me. Sitting in here, raging at yourself and Ivan, it isn’t going to change what’s happened. I know you must be terrified for your brother, but-
“You know? You don’t know anything about it. You don’t even like your brothers, you told me that. You don’t know anything.”
Well, at least he was talking and not a catatonic zombie about to explode. Arthur would take what he could, even if it was looking like he and Alfred were barreling straight towards something awful. Just because my relationship with my brothers is not what you have with yours does not mean you are suddenly the expert on what it feels like when someone you care about is in trouble or hurt and you’re helpless to stop it!
Alfred looked up at him then, his glasses off and blue eyes hard underneath the fringe of his blond hair; it was an intimidating look and one Arthur had seen, but had never had directed at him before. Arthur had never been one to back down from a fight before though, so he tilted his chin down and challenged him right back; Alfred glared and Arthur braced himself as the tall man got to his feet. “Oh and you’re so all knowing, right? Ok, fine, then why don’t you drum up some pretty words and tell me how I’m supposed to be ok with the fact that the psychopath kidnapped my little brother and is keeping him prisoner? Or, about how I’m supposed to deal with that he’s been captured for months, having gods know what being done to him, and I’ve been busy drinking and celebrating and fu-”
Alfred cut himself off with a frustrated growl, tugging his hands roughly through his hair and nearly elbowing Arthur in the process (he’d gotten awful close during his outburst and Arthur was fairly certain there was spittle in his hair and tunic). Arthur had already heard it though, and a fresh well of hurt bubbled up past the guilt and worry he felt, even though he’d told himself this could happen and Alfred was just upset. It still hurt like a bitch to hear it out loud.
And fucking, Alfred? Fucking me and getting fucked yourself? If you’re going to say it like that, then you better well get used to the sound.
Alfred glared at him and he was back in Arthur’s space, forcing him to take a step back lest his feet get stomped on. “No, no you don’t get to act all uppity right now! You don’t get-you’re just-just no! Matthew’s gone and I should’ve fucking been there but instead I was here, with you, not even caring about what happened to him because all I could think about was you and how I felt about you and what the hell was going on in your head about me! And now he’s gone and it’s-it’s my, your…it’s all just shit and if I want to be fucking mad, then I can and fuck you if you’re going to stand there and judge me about it!”
Alfred was crowding Arthur and it felt too hot for how chilled his back was, nearly pressed against the porthole. Alfred’s eyes were wet, dangerously so, and he really was shaking, looking feverish in his craze. And, even though Alfred’s words pierced him in a way his brothers never managed too, similar to the way his father’s had whenever he caught Arthur using his Voice without meaning too, he swallowed and pushed it down because Alfred needed him to stay in control, to help him. So, he reached up and tried not to wince when Alfred’s hand caught his wrist to hard, likely bruising the bone with how tight he held him back.
It’s not your fault, Alfred.
“Then whose is it? Yours?”
Arthur met Alfred’s eyes and saw that Alfred wasn’t throwing that blame around; he’d come to the same conclusion he and Seychelles (and likely the rest of the fucking crew, Ladies tits) already had. Is that what you want me to say? That it’s my fault he took your brother? Because I can tell you, you’re not the only one thinking that. If me saying it will help you in some way then fine, yes, it’s because of me. Ivan tried to take me and when he couldn’t, he went after someone he knew you cared about, because I’m sure that had something to do with why he took your brother now instead of before. It all fits so nicely, like a present specifically wrapped up and gifted for you to rage at and I can’t even blame you because it probably is true.
Alfred’s eyes cleared just a little and he waved aside Arthur’s words as if they only frustrated him more. “Don’t be stupid, it’s not like you told Braginski to do anything.”
And you did? I only call you an idiot to make sure you’re ego doesn’t take over the rest of you, but if you truly think that I’m not at blame but you somehow can be, then you’re the biggest moron I’ve ever met!
“He wasn’t your brother! Matthew’s my responsibility and he’s always been since our folks died! It’s not the same!”
You’re right, it’s not the same-I’ve never even met the man, but I bet if he were here, he’d tell you to belt up and stop blaming yourself for what that deranged man decided to do! Arthur looked down and rubbed at the bridge of his nose, wishing he had water or something nearby to help soothe away the rawness he felt building in his throat. When he looked back up, one silent throat clearing later, he saw that Alfred’s eyes had gone wet and he looked about ready to collapse in on himself, as if he’d been punctured by Arthur’s words and all the rage had whooshed straight out. Alfred…
“You’re right, he wouldn’t-but I wasn’t there though, Arthur! I wasn’t there and I should’ve been and now he’s gone! How is that-how can I-I just want him back!” He pitched forward, curling down and around Arthur, knocking him fully into the wall with nothing to do but wrap Alfred up closer. So, he did that; he wrapped Alfred up as if he were no bigger than a child and ran what he hoped were soothing hands down his back, murmuring hushed words and comforts into his ear (which was ridiculous because it wasn’t like Alfred would really ‘hear’ his words from there, but still…). Murmuring to calm down, that he was there, that they’d get Matthew back and all other sorts of nonsense that was supposed to mean something to Alfred.
His mother had done this when he’d been a boy, and Arthur remembered the soft gentle brush of her fingertips and her comforts against his cheek; she always managed to bring him back from whatever dark place his mind wandered to with the simple touches. He’d seen Alfred upset, sad, happy, and a whole plethora of other emotions before, but never quite at this magnitude, never quite with the shaking intensity he was trying to bundle up in his arms now. Arthur’s chest ached for Alfred, for his pain and loss and helplessness at the situation-and he didn’t know how to fix any of it. So, he held Alfred and hoped that the younger man took some comfort or peace in him, in his words, like he’d been able to take from his mother.
He held Alfred until the shaking subsided, and when Alfred pulled away enough for Arthur to reach, he wiped at his cheeks with his thumbs until the only evidence of his breakdown was left in the redness of his eyes. Alfred stared at him for a moment after and then ducked his head down, but he wrapped up Arthur close again. “It’s not your fault either, Arthur.”
It’s more mine than yours, you know that. Because it was, and Arthur had to live with that, but he wasn’t going to burden Alfred with anything else to worry about.
“No.” The word was hot and fierce in Arthur’s ear and Alfred pulled back so that their eyes met; Alfred’s eyes were still wet, but they were also ablaze with purpose and conviction. “No, it’s not. The only person I want you to blame is fucking Braginski. Only him, all right?”
Alfr-
Arthur’s word choked off as Alfred swooped in and pressed a hot, demanding kiss to his lips. When Alfred pulled back, Arthur felt dizzy and off center and could only blink up at Alfred in response. “No, I know you’re thinking it’s because of you, but it’s not, Arthur. It’s not. I need you to not blame yourself because I need you here and I-please, Arthur? Please don’t.”
He was babbling, speaking in half sentences that only made partial sense to Arthur, but he thought he knew what Alfred was trying to say, so he nodded. He’d try not to think the obvious about why Matthew had been taken so he could help Alfred with his own misplaced guilt. Because Alfred had just lost his brother…he couldn’t lose Arthur too. He nodded again and again and Alfred clutched him even tighter, buried his face in Arthur’s neck, and started shaking again, this time without the tears. And as he held him close, he whispered wild words into his neck, the words falling almost likes kisses would along his skin. Words that frightened Arthur because he knew Alfred meant them.
“I’m not going to let him take you, I won’t. And he can’t keep Mattie, I won’t let him-I’ll save him and you and kill Braginski if I have to. I will, I will I will. He can’t have either of you.”
And if Alfred meant them…how far would he go to keep them?
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