Prince of Pride (Hetalia USUK)

Chapter Thirteen - Dreaming

Matthew Jones woke up to his older brother poking him on the shoulder. The sixteen year old yawned and stretched out, not realizing he'd fallen asleep on the couch. He fiddled with his lopsided glasses.

"Mattie. Mattie." Alfred's slightly hormonal voice rang out in his head.
"Ugh. Whadya want Al?" Matthew slurred. He was exhausted.
"Sorry to wake you up bro. I gotta tell you something."
"God, what is this important that you'll wake me up for it?"
"I proposed to Arthur."
"Jesus Christ, I'm tired. I thought you just said you proposed to Arthur."
"Mattie, I did say that."

Matthew's violet eyes widened.
"Really? You're actually serious?!"

Alfred nodded.
"Yeah... I felt the time was right and I went for it."
"Wow, that's awesome bro! I'm happy for you!" Matthew's expression immediately changed. "Have you told mom and dad yet?"
"No." Alfred sighed. "I don't know what they'll say."

Matthew shook his head. "Doesn't matter what they think, it matters what you think. And if you love Arthur, go for it. Doesn't matter what anyone but you thinks. It's always been like that. We've only been too blind to realize."

"You sound like you ate a book of inspirational quotes." Alfred chuckled.

"Maybe I did."
"You should go to bed. It's like midnight."

~~~~~Timeskip~~~~~

Alfred woke up the next morning and instantly realized something was wrong. Arthur was nowhere to be seen and it was eerily quiet.
"Artie? What the hell..." Alfred mumbled quietly as he got up. Quickly checking the bathroom, it was safe to say Arthur wasn't anywhere near.
"Artie!" Alfred called out. "Shit dude, now I'm getting really worried..."

Alfred turned a corner, went down the staircase. Arthur was nowhere to be seen.
Why the hell would he just disappear? He seemed so happy here, with me, I just don't understand where the hell he would have gone...

Alfred's heart stopped beating.

There he was. Arthur, with his messy blonde hair and forest green eyes, on the floor of the kitchen. His eyes were glazed, surrounded in a pool of his own scarlet blood.
"No. No, no, no, what... What, no..." Alfred was at loss for any words at all.

"What are you doing awake, Alfred?"

Alfred whipped around to see his father, holding a knife smeared with blood. Alfred could feel his heart beating a million times faster than it should.

"Get back to bed, Alfred. It's all just a bad dream."
"No. No, you killed him." Alfred choked. "You killed him."
"No, I didn't. It's all in your mind. Go back to bed, Alfred-"

Alfred screamed, a scream of pure agony and terror. He lunged at his father, knocking the knife out of his hands. It slid across the floor.

"You killed him, you fucking killed him... The one person I really cared about... You took him away..."

Alfred's hand's clutched at his father's neck, digging into the king's flesh with his fingernails. The king screamed in agony and Alfred tore at his throat like a wild animal. Within minutes, Alfred's father was bleeding out a horrible amount from the rip in his throat, making terrible gurgling noises as he tried to breathe. Alfred stood back and looked down at his bloodstained hands.
Eventually, he broke down and cried.

Alfred gently picked up Arthur's frail body, closing his green eyes so he merely looked like he was asleep. Alfred grabbed the knife his father had been holding on his way out.

He carried Arthur's body bridal style through the forest, until he reached the train tracks. Then, he took a left turn, and found himself in a field of gorgeous yellow flowers, glittering from the morning dew in the early sunlight.
Alfred lay Arthur's body in the meadow, the soft breeze sending his blonde hair askew. Alfred gently brushed it out of his eyes. He kneeled down beside Arthur, and gently held one of his hands. It was cold.
Alfred began to cry.

"Hey." Alfred said softly to Arthur. "No matter what anybody tells you, no matter what happens to us, you'll always be my prince. Okay?" Alfred's voice broke.

Alfred lay beside Arthur in the meadow, and used the knife to slit is wrists. It was deeper than he'd cut before. He felt himself bleeding out, and saw the outline of Arthur's face. He was smiling.

"Alfred. Alfred." Arthur's British voice rang out in Alfred's mind. "Al. Wake up."

Alfred opened his eyes to see Arthur's very concerned face. He looked around. He was still in his bedroom.
"What..."
"Al. You were crying in your sleep. What's the matter?"
"You're... You're alive..." Alfred mumbled.
"Of course I'm alive. Why wouldn't I be?" Arthur smiled. Alfred swept him into a large hug.
"Thank god. Thank god it was just a dream."
"I don't know what it was about, but I'm here, okay?" Arthur stroked Alfred's hair, careful not to accidentally touch his ahoge.
"I'm here."