[fanfic] Dangerous to Know II
Title: Dangerous to Know II
Author: me~
Characters/Pairings: US/UK
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: mentions of sex and drug addictions
Summary: The city has devolved into a breeding ground for crime, drug abuse and disobedience. Alfred gets out, but without something vital to his survival.
He’d done it. It had been two and a half years, but the diploma was in his hand. Solid, real. It displayed his name proudly, and though he knew it looked just like his classmates’, he also knew that his was special. Excellent, his professor had said. You’re going to be excellent. A bright future.
And for the first time, he felt it would be. He was free of the drugs-could no longer feel their heaviness in his veins, weighing him down. Nothing his father had done to him would hinder him again.
He pictured his mom, suddenly, and his hand faltered on the ignition as he turned on his truck. Would she be proud of him? He knew she loved him-she’d told him that, promised him, before she’d taken his brother and fled. He’d been street trash, but now he’d accomplished something. She’d be proud of him. He knew it.
He shook his head as he pulled out of the parking lot, setting his diploma gingerly on the seat next to a cardboard box of his belongings. The road in front of him, he focused singularly on his destination.
The thoughts of Arthur that immediately followed made his stomach churn. Would he be proud? Would he be angry at Alfred for being gone so long? Would he even talk to him?
All of the questions that had kept him awake at night came flooding back in a tidal wave, and it was all he could do to tamp them down. He’ll be proud of me, he reassured himself. He wanted me to leave. He wanted me to be something. And now I am.
He watched as the cleanliness of the city outskirts dripped away, the buildings became more run down, the streets became clogged with garbage, and the smell of decay and dirt wafted in the early-summer heat.
Alfred drove by their alley, where they’d hung out, eaten stolen meals, gotten drunk together. Something about it made Alfred’s stomach settle slightly. If you ever get lost, Arthur had told him sternly, come back here and don’t move. I’ll find you. He was tempted to get out and stay there until Arthur came, and he sat peering into the darkness for signs of movement until a car behind him honked for him to move. Grudgingly, he pulled away from the curb. He’d try the motel room first.
It was his feet rather than his memory that dragged him to the right door, and his stomach and chest swelled with excitement as he approached it. He’d pictured this so many times, lying alone in his dorm room. Arthur would see him, would smile that beautiful smile Alfred had only seen a few times, and his eyes would sparkle, bright green in the darkness, and they would hold each other, and kiss-
When he grasped the doorknob, he noticed it was loose, and he snapped it off easily, knowing the anticipation of picking he lock would kill him. The latch was jarred loose, and the door drifted slowly open. With a deep breath, Alfred pushed it open.
“Arthur!” he yelled into the room, and instead of echoing, it was swallowed by the carpet, sounding muffled and quiet. He shouted louder. “Arthur! Arthur, I’m home! It’s Alfred!”
The interior was silent, and Alfred’s heart, for a moment, fractured. He stepped into the room, and was overcome instantly by the smells of must, cigarette smoke, and cheap alcohol. He hurried through the first room, looking unnecessarily behind and under things, where he knew Arthur wouldn’t be.
With his last hope hanging on by a gossamer thread, he moved into the bedroom. A pile of bottles and cans sat at the edge of the bed, right where Alfred remembered them being when he’d stumbled drunkenly over them the night he’d left. Their meager blankets lay balled up on the bare mattress, as if thrown aside in haste, moth-eaten and dusty. The dust only hit him then-the visible layer of it, darkening every surface in the room. Their home hadn’t been lived in for years, probably as many as Alfred had been gone.
Arthur left. He left and didn’t come back.
Alfred sank onto the mattress, the springs biting into him where he sat on them. He cried as his dream of their reunion broke apart before him, wept as the possibility of never seeing Arthur again rose up in his throat in a hard lump.
It was a long time before he finally cleared his eyes, wiping his glasses on his sweater, and got up from the bed, walking out of the motel with one last backward look, as if Arthur would pop up and declare it had all been a joke, that he was here, he was proud, they could be together again.
Suddenly the balmy summer afternoon felt deep-winter cold.
--------------------------------
Utah.
When his boss had told him, he’d been excited. A new job-a better job, with better pay, a nice place of his own, where he could settle down-
Alone.
He knew his face had dropped at that thought when his boss asked him if he was okay with going. He accepted hurriedly, thanking him. But it hung over his head like a heavy, suffocating raincloud for the entire month that he spent packing up his meager belongings.
If he left, he would not find Arthur. He would never see him again.
He couldn’t leave it that way. He’d spent too much time (every minute) thinking about Arthur, put too much effort (all he had) into getting here, into being what he was. Even if Arthur wanted nothing to do with him-“Get the fuck out and don’t fucking come back!”-he had to let Arthur know what he’d done. What he’d done for him.
The alley was still empty when he drove by, the corners where they’d huddled together piled with clean snow. He dragged himself despairingly to the motel room, not letting himself linger when he saw the inside, the exact same as it had been when he’d come six months ago.
He was determined not to let himself cry like some lovelorn teenager as he pulled back onto the street. What he’d accomplished might’ve been for Arthur, but it was his now. He had to let it go.
Utah would be lonely, he knew.
Someone was huddled on the edge of their alley, and for some reason he felt protective, ready to defend his and Arthur’s lair from anyone else. It was theirs, no one else’s.
The person was slumped over, lying limp against the brick wall, his straw blond hair mussed-
Oh God. Oh God.
Immediate panic gripped Alfred. Arthur was slumped over in the cold snow, unmoving, limp. He was in his short sleeves, his tattered jeans soaked through, his skin almost blue. Alfred’s first thought gripped his stomach and twisted violently-oh God, oh God, he’s dead, he’s frozen, I left him like this and he’s dead-
He was out of his car and stumbling over the fractured sidewalk before he could register anything, and Arthur-Arthur was in his arms, he was touching him, could feel him, feel the slight pulse of warmth under the frozen surface of his skin.
He faintly registered himself yelling some silly thing about having a jacket, but it was immediately smothered by the realization that Arthur was opening his eyes, and oh lord, the color green had never looked so goddamn beautiful before.
Arthur’s gaze was hazy and distant for a moment, until he finally looked up into Alfred’s face, and that blessed spark of recognition fired in the backs of his irises.
“Arthur?” he asked desperately, needing to hear that voice. “Come on, Arthur. Say something. Talk to me.”
“Fuck you,” Arthur rasped, and before Alfred could flinch, he was collapsed into his chest, gripping his sweat shirt tightly in one fist, pounding the other weakly against him, shouting garbled insults at him through harsh, broken sobs.
Alfred softened, pulling Arthur close against him and wrapping his jacket around him, eager to have him close and curling against him, his weak punches tapering off as groaning sobs wracked his body and tore at his throat. Alfred winced at the sound, just holding Arthur, keeping his dead weight from crumpling to the ground.
“Shh,” he soothed into Arthur’s frozen hair. “It’s okay. I’m right here. I’m not leaving you. Arthur, it’s okay.”
Arthur sobs quieted after a long while, and whether his shivers were from the cold or from his crying, Alfred took off his heavy jacket and draped it over Arthur’s shoulders. He kneeled down on the sidewalk, uncaring of how the knees of his jeans were getting wet, and gently wiped the tears and mucous from Arthur’s cheeks. His fingers burned with the cold of Arthur’s skin.
He leaned up to gently kiss his forehead, tasting everything he’d missed so much. His voice was soft with tears as he spoke into Arthur’s skin.
“Job’s takin’ me out west,” he murmured, sure of himself now. “Not goin’ without you.”
Arthur was silent, but he moved forward to curl his arms-so thin and bony, good lord-around Alfred, leaning heavily against his chest and burying his face deeply against Alfred’s shoulder.
Alfred had his answer.
“We can go back and get your stuff,” Alfred said gently, though he knew there probably was no stuff, if Arthur hadn’t been back to the motel in three years. As expected, Arthur shook his head, collapsing a bit against him.
He knew Arthur hardly noticed as Alfred gently lifted him into his arms, limp as he was against Alfred’s shoulder. He arranged him gingerly in the passenger seat of the truck, and Arthur seemed to wake up a bit as Alfred got in on the driver’s side and slammed the door. A warmth and happiness overcame Alfred, and he reached out to gently take Arthur’s hand, warming it with careful strokes of his fingers, as if Arthur were delicate enough to break at the slightest rough touch.
“You gonna miss it?” Alfred said quietly, smiling fondly as Arthur nuzzled into the collar of Alfred’s jacket against the car window. Arthur’s mouth quirked in a tiny smile, and he shook his head, his body shivering in the warmth of the cab.
Alfred’s heart finally settled, warmed and contented with Arthur finally beside him. He knew it would be hard from here-Arthur was thin, too thin, probably hadn’t eaten in a while-but he was ready for it. He’d accomplished a lot, but he wasn’t done yet. Whatever the road had for him, he would face it with arms open.
---------------------
Sorry for the crap ending ^^; Hope you enjoy anyway! There's another part in the works, because I can't leave this AU alone.
Author: me~
Characters/Pairings: US/UK
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: mentions of sex and drug addictions
Summary: The city has devolved into a breeding ground for crime, drug abuse and disobedience. Alfred gets out, but without something vital to his survival.
He’d done it. It had been two and a half years, but the diploma was in his hand. Solid, real. It displayed his name proudly, and though he knew it looked just like his classmates’, he also knew that his was special. Excellent, his professor had said. You’re going to be excellent. A bright future.
And for the first time, he felt it would be. He was free of the drugs-could no longer feel their heaviness in his veins, weighing him down. Nothing his father had done to him would hinder him again.
He pictured his mom, suddenly, and his hand faltered on the ignition as he turned on his truck. Would she be proud of him? He knew she loved him-she’d told him that, promised him, before she’d taken his brother and fled. He’d been street trash, but now he’d accomplished something. She’d be proud of him. He knew it.
He shook his head as he pulled out of the parking lot, setting his diploma gingerly on the seat next to a cardboard box of his belongings. The road in front of him, he focused singularly on his destination.
The thoughts of Arthur that immediately followed made his stomach churn. Would he be proud? Would he be angry at Alfred for being gone so long? Would he even talk to him?
All of the questions that had kept him awake at night came flooding back in a tidal wave, and it was all he could do to tamp them down. He’ll be proud of me, he reassured himself. He wanted me to leave. He wanted me to be something. And now I am.
He watched as the cleanliness of the city outskirts dripped away, the buildings became more run down, the streets became clogged with garbage, and the smell of decay and dirt wafted in the early-summer heat.
Alfred drove by their alley, where they’d hung out, eaten stolen meals, gotten drunk together. Something about it made Alfred’s stomach settle slightly. If you ever get lost, Arthur had told him sternly, come back here and don’t move. I’ll find you. He was tempted to get out and stay there until Arthur came, and he sat peering into the darkness for signs of movement until a car behind him honked for him to move. Grudgingly, he pulled away from the curb. He’d try the motel room first.
It was his feet rather than his memory that dragged him to the right door, and his stomach and chest swelled with excitement as he approached it. He’d pictured this so many times, lying alone in his dorm room. Arthur would see him, would smile that beautiful smile Alfred had only seen a few times, and his eyes would sparkle, bright green in the darkness, and they would hold each other, and kiss-
When he grasped the doorknob, he noticed it was loose, and he snapped it off easily, knowing the anticipation of picking he lock would kill him. The latch was jarred loose, and the door drifted slowly open. With a deep breath, Alfred pushed it open.
“Arthur!” he yelled into the room, and instead of echoing, it was swallowed by the carpet, sounding muffled and quiet. He shouted louder. “Arthur! Arthur, I’m home! It’s Alfred!”
The interior was silent, and Alfred’s heart, for a moment, fractured. He stepped into the room, and was overcome instantly by the smells of must, cigarette smoke, and cheap alcohol. He hurried through the first room, looking unnecessarily behind and under things, where he knew Arthur wouldn’t be.
With his last hope hanging on by a gossamer thread, he moved into the bedroom. A pile of bottles and cans sat at the edge of the bed, right where Alfred remembered them being when he’d stumbled drunkenly over them the night he’d left. Their meager blankets lay balled up on the bare mattress, as if thrown aside in haste, moth-eaten and dusty. The dust only hit him then-the visible layer of it, darkening every surface in the room. Their home hadn’t been lived in for years, probably as many as Alfred had been gone.
Arthur left. He left and didn’t come back.
Alfred sank onto the mattress, the springs biting into him where he sat on them. He cried as his dream of their reunion broke apart before him, wept as the possibility of never seeing Arthur again rose up in his throat in a hard lump.
It was a long time before he finally cleared his eyes, wiping his glasses on his sweater, and got up from the bed, walking out of the motel with one last backward look, as if Arthur would pop up and declare it had all been a joke, that he was here, he was proud, they could be together again.
Suddenly the balmy summer afternoon felt deep-winter cold.
--------------------------------
Utah.
When his boss had told him, he’d been excited. A new job-a better job, with better pay, a nice place of his own, where he could settle down-
Alone.
He knew his face had dropped at that thought when his boss asked him if he was okay with going. He accepted hurriedly, thanking him. But it hung over his head like a heavy, suffocating raincloud for the entire month that he spent packing up his meager belongings.
If he left, he would not find Arthur. He would never see him again.
He couldn’t leave it that way. He’d spent too much time (every minute) thinking about Arthur, put too much effort (all he had) into getting here, into being what he was. Even if Arthur wanted nothing to do with him-“Get the fuck out and don’t fucking come back!”-he had to let Arthur know what he’d done. What he’d done for him.
The alley was still empty when he drove by, the corners where they’d huddled together piled with clean snow. He dragged himself despairingly to the motel room, not letting himself linger when he saw the inside, the exact same as it had been when he’d come six months ago.
He was determined not to let himself cry like some lovelorn teenager as he pulled back onto the street. What he’d accomplished might’ve been for Arthur, but it was his now. He had to let it go.
Utah would be lonely, he knew.
Someone was huddled on the edge of their alley, and for some reason he felt protective, ready to defend his and Arthur’s lair from anyone else. It was theirs, no one else’s.
The person was slumped over, lying limp against the brick wall, his straw blond hair mussed-
Oh God. Oh God.
Immediate panic gripped Alfred. Arthur was slumped over in the cold snow, unmoving, limp. He was in his short sleeves, his tattered jeans soaked through, his skin almost blue. Alfred’s first thought gripped his stomach and twisted violently-oh God, oh God, he’s dead, he’s frozen, I left him like this and he’s dead-
He was out of his car and stumbling over the fractured sidewalk before he could register anything, and Arthur-Arthur was in his arms, he was touching him, could feel him, feel the slight pulse of warmth under the frozen surface of his skin.
He faintly registered himself yelling some silly thing about having a jacket, but it was immediately smothered by the realization that Arthur was opening his eyes, and oh lord, the color green had never looked so goddamn beautiful before.
Arthur’s gaze was hazy and distant for a moment, until he finally looked up into Alfred’s face, and that blessed spark of recognition fired in the backs of his irises.
“Arthur?” he asked desperately, needing to hear that voice. “Come on, Arthur. Say something. Talk to me.”
“Fuck you,” Arthur rasped, and before Alfred could flinch, he was collapsed into his chest, gripping his sweat shirt tightly in one fist, pounding the other weakly against him, shouting garbled insults at him through harsh, broken sobs.
Alfred softened, pulling Arthur close against him and wrapping his jacket around him, eager to have him close and curling against him, his weak punches tapering off as groaning sobs wracked his body and tore at his throat. Alfred winced at the sound, just holding Arthur, keeping his dead weight from crumpling to the ground.
“Shh,” he soothed into Arthur’s frozen hair. “It’s okay. I’m right here. I’m not leaving you. Arthur, it’s okay.”
Arthur sobs quieted after a long while, and whether his shivers were from the cold or from his crying, Alfred took off his heavy jacket and draped it over Arthur’s shoulders. He kneeled down on the sidewalk, uncaring of how the knees of his jeans were getting wet, and gently wiped the tears and mucous from Arthur’s cheeks. His fingers burned with the cold of Arthur’s skin.
He leaned up to gently kiss his forehead, tasting everything he’d missed so much. His voice was soft with tears as he spoke into Arthur’s skin.
“Job’s takin’ me out west,” he murmured, sure of himself now. “Not goin’ without you.”
Arthur was silent, but he moved forward to curl his arms-so thin and bony, good lord-around Alfred, leaning heavily against his chest and burying his face deeply against Alfred’s shoulder.
Alfred had his answer.
“We can go back and get your stuff,” Alfred said gently, though he knew there probably was no stuff, if Arthur hadn’t been back to the motel in three years. As expected, Arthur shook his head, collapsing a bit against him.
He knew Arthur hardly noticed as Alfred gently lifted him into his arms, limp as he was against Alfred’s shoulder. He arranged him gingerly in the passenger seat of the truck, and Arthur seemed to wake up a bit as Alfred got in on the driver’s side and slammed the door. A warmth and happiness overcame Alfred, and he reached out to gently take Arthur’s hand, warming it with careful strokes of his fingers, as if Arthur were delicate enough to break at the slightest rough touch.
“You gonna miss it?” Alfred said quietly, smiling fondly as Arthur nuzzled into the collar of Alfred’s jacket against the car window. Arthur’s mouth quirked in a tiny smile, and he shook his head, his body shivering in the warmth of the cab.
Alfred’s heart finally settled, warmed and contented with Arthur finally beside him. He knew it would be hard from here-Arthur was thin, too thin, probably hadn’t eaten in a while-but he was ready for it. He’d accomplished a lot, but he wasn’t done yet. Whatever the road had for him, he would face it with arms open.
---------------------
Sorry for the crap ending ^^; Hope you enjoy anyway! There's another part in the works, because I can't leave this AU alone.