Arthur was in so much pain and he just wanted it to end. His body was shivering and he had closed his eyes when he heard someone shout his name. He couldn’t move but the face that moved into his line vision made him almost numb with relief. He could see the burning anger in Alfred’s eyes and knew actually why. He made soft noises as he was picked up and taken inside of the apartment. Alfred wanted to look him over and he really didn’t care if he did or not. He felt like he was going to die anyway and he nodded slowly giving him permission. Closing his eyes he felt himself drift for a moment as his mind tried to get away from the pain and the darkness that soothed it felt wonderful. It was nice just to give up for a moment.
Once he was given consent he quickly set to work. He cut Arthur’s shirt off, it would bee too painful for him o take it off normally, and examined the wounds. Some were deeper then others and all placed in harmless areas. It was painful non the less but nothing life threatening. If treated right they shouldn’t scar. He sighed with relief, the French bastard had only wanted to make a point to him. He didn’t dwell on it and set back to work on wrapping the other’s wounds. Slowly and carefully he cleaned them with a cloth, dabbed them with antibiotic ointment and wrapped them in gauze. He tried not to think of the soft skin. Instead he opted to make some earl gray tea for him. “Arthur, are you awake? Can you hear me?”
Arthur was barely aware of Alfred dressing his wounds and bandaging them. His eyes fluttered softly and he was drifting though his mind. All he could sense was a looming darkness and to be truthful he welcomed it. He blinked open his eyes half way as he heard his name being called and looked up the American. “…..yes?” His green eyes were dull and glazed over with hurt and pain.
Alfred gave a forced smile. “I gave you a sedative, it will numb your pain for the time being. Just relax and I’ll take care of you okay?” he sat in the chair next to his bed. Setting the tea down to cool he took Arthur’s hand in his own, knowing that as the way Mattie used to calm him down. He looked over the disoriented Brit with a mixture of rage and sorrow. He knew the hell that this brought, the hell that was to come. No man would put so much effort into another just to toss them out like trash. Francis was up to something but what he could not say. He highly doubted Arthur was involved but then again he could be. He didn’t care either way because he wasn’t going to turn his back on Arthur. “Do you want some tea? It’s Earl Gray, is that okay?” he asked as he rubbed his shoulder soothingly.
BRITISH PEOPLE CALL USB DRIVES MEMORY STICKS?
OH MY GOD.
YOU GUYS ARE THE BEST.
I THOUGHT EVERYONE DID????
In canada we call them memory sticks
Why would you call them USB drives?
Wait, do other countries not call them that?!
We call them USB drive because we put them in the
we call the memory sticks because we put them in
the memory stick holder-place.
Really, many Americans call the Flash drives too…
Arthur caught the key and he blinked at all the information that was given to him. He swallowed hard sensing that something was going to go horribly wrong in his future as he watched Alfred leave him. Turning he walked to Francis pocketing the key. “Alright, I am ready to go.” He said quietly and Francis turned to look at him eyes darker than normal. “Where did you bump in to that pig?” His eyes narrowed upon the Brit and Arthur was kind of shocked at his change of personality. “I-I…we ran in to each other and we just got to talking.” He managed to say. He was starting to worry now but tried to push it down. “Look it is nothing. Can we go?” Francis looked him over and he grinned showing all of his teeth. “Oui….we can go right after I take you back to the hotel for a moment.” With that Francis grabbed Arthur’s hand and took him all the way back to the hotel. He basically slung him onto the bed and glared down at him. “I don’t want to see you talking to him mon cherie.” He grabbed Arthur’s chin rather roughly. “Don’t listen to him and don’t let him fill you head with those pathetic hopes. Because let me tell you this now. You are mine and will always be. Nothing will change my little pet.” Arthur was so unprepared for the slap that jerked is head against the bed post with a solid crack that he cried, grabbing his face and the back of his head. He could not believe what was going on.
Alfred walked back to his empty apartment. He abandoned his work and just flopped on the bed. He knew what was going to happen, what was probably happening now. He wished he could help but it was useless. You can’t force someone to do something. He knew that all too well. Sitting up he looked at a picture on his nightstand of his older Brother. Mattie was his only reason to stay with that bastard. The reason he put up with him for so long. Once Alfred was able to get him out and safely away from that place then he too was able to escape it. It had been hard and he knew the bastard was looking for him but as long as he was here he was safe…right?
His eyes came into contact with Alfred’s and he tried to look like he was not hurting but he knew that the American had already seen it in his eyes. He could see the anger in Alfred’s as well. “I….I can’t Alfred….I just…can’t.” Arthur looked away from him and he pulled back out of his embrace least he began to believe his words because of how safe he felt in them. He tried to block out all how easy it sounded just to up and leave Francis with no care in the world. But it was never that easy, Francis had his way and if he wanted to he could easily hunt him down. He swallowed hard and wiped the tears from his face. “Look, don’t worry about it alright! Everything is fine and I am fine!” He didn’t want to get him caught up in this mess of his and he would make sure that he didn’t.
Alfred sighed and grabbed Arthur by his wrist. If he would not listen to him then perhaps he should show him what will happen in the end. Once he found a nice Ally, he let Arthur go and stared up at the snow falling. “My mother died after I was born…My dad was never much more then a drunken gambler that was constantly in debt. He borrowed from some money from the Russian Mafia…” he looked to Arthur and smiled slightly. “He couldn’t pay back the money. They came to our small apartment and shot him in front of me and my brother…” He tried to fight the tears. “They were going to kill my brother too but…I begged their boss not to…We made a deal and…” he looked down as the tears flowed. “It was caring at first, he was a kind man, bought me things, took me and my brother Mattie out of the apartment to a nice mansion.” He wiped his tears away. “Then it all went bad because I was spending more time with my brother then him…he became violent…I felt so trapped, knowing nothing I did would be good enough. I wanted to get away, to run any way I could…” he walked forward and rolled up his sleeve reveling the scars on his wrist. “This went on for five years…Each failed attempt only prompted him to keep a tighter leash on me.” he slammed his fist on a near by garbage can. “At that point you are alive but you do not live. Arthur it isn’t a life someone should live…Even now I can’t fully escape the memories…It’s hard I know but please understand I want to help you but I can’t unless you help yourself.” He lowered his eyes once more unable to understand why he had told this man when his closest friends knew nothing of it.
Arthur was so fed up. He could not believe he had allowed this to happen to himself but what could he do. Francis had done so much for him and he just couldn’t say no to him. He rubbed his face and barely heard Alfred calling after him. His mind was swirling with ideas to just end it. He stopped at and intersection of a street and looked back at the American finally deciding to wait for him. Alfred wanted to ‘help’ him really there was no help for him. He could see that he would never leave Francis for his was trapped like a rat backed into a corner by a blood thirsty cat. He just now noticed that his vision was blurry and he reached up to feel his face. It was moist and…was he crying. God, he was crying, crying because he knew his life was basically over. He was no longer in control of what he could do.
Alfred slowed down a little but once he saw those tears he just embraced the Brit. He knew the feeling and he hated it. Arthur was just like he once was, trapped. Yet, all Arthur had to do was search for the right way to escape, an opening because there was always at least one. “Arthur don’t cry, I know it’s hard and you don’t want to see it right now but you can escape, you can leave but you have to want to!” His body shook violently. People were never meant to be controlled. It was wrong, no one could be owned fully. He curled his finger under Arthur’s chin and lifted his head so their eyes would meet. The look of sheer pain in those emerald eyes sent him over the edge. “You can’t keep this up Arthur. You have to leave him. No matter what he did for you or promised you can’t live like this!” He grit his teeth and hugged him tighter.
OH GOD I ANGERED IT
WHAT THE FUCK
Here we see a common pic link used by bloggers to show that there is a picture that can be enlarged. Sometimes it’s cute like a kitten and sometimes it can just be porn or worse an image of what is known to fandoms as a ship…
I’m gonna poke it…
IT’S ANGRY! IT’S ANGRY!
Mass media recognizes us.
I’M REALLY CONFUSED WHY THIS IS EVEN A QUESTION LIKE HOW COULD ANYONE THINK ANY OF THE OTHER CHOICES COULD POSSIBLY BE A THING
GRATUITOUS PICTURE OF YOGURT
Obviously the person above is confused GPOY is
GRATUITOUS PICTURE OF YARN!
Why would anyone post a Generous Picture of Yogurt?