Why do I bother with fics with multiple chapters? I love one-shots so much.
Warnings: implied abuse, implied rape, probably a lot of grammar mistakes and SHORT fic is SHORT.
Words keep dancing in my head; words that won't come out. Feelings that I can't tell you about because even if I could you can't hear them. Let's smile together instead.
Azure eyes stared down at the dirty floor underneath him. He blinked once, then twice. Nothing changed. The floor was still dirty, rust was covering the walls and roaches kept crawling through the corners of the room. Water damage was showing through the ceiling and the smell of rotten meat was still suffocating the room.
Nothing ever changed. Everything was always the same. In this place time didn't exist. There was no sunlight or moonlight, none of that was ever visible. The only thing that ever changed was the door. The door would open three times. Three times Alfred was dragged out of his room and into a different one, that room never changed either, it had become so common and normal that he couldn't notice the difference.
The other room was white; it was filled with lights that would blind his eyes. People were always around him and they would poke his body with needles before shoving him back to his dark room. He would hurt after they were done, but the pain was now something he was used to. It didn't matter if he hurt, nothing was ever going to change. Everything was always the same.
Or maybe not.
Alfred tilted his head when he noticed the dirt that was falling down from the ceiling. He crawled over the filthy floor and sat near the piece of ceiling that was changing. He stared and stared, not moving his eyes away from the new little change that was being brought to his life. The dirt soon began to pile and make a small mountain of dirt in front of him.
More dirt fell, more dirt fell, more dirt fell.
The sunny blond stared with wide eyes when a hand slowly began to push through the small hole in the ceiling. The limb was hanging from the ceiling, feeling the air around it before touching the wall that was near it. Alfred didn't know what to do at first. He kept staring for another minute. What to do now? Should he touch the hand or not? Why was a hand hanging from the ceiling?
What else could happen? Nothing, nothing at all. Things are just changing.
Slowly the blue eyed male reached for the hand, letting his fingers touch the pale skin. The arm flinched at first and pulled away but Alfred quickly took a hold of it. He wrapped one of his arms around the small wrist and hugged it close to his chest. The young male nuzzle his cheek against the limb and the arm went stiff. It didn't move, it didn't do anything.
Somebody was just like him, somebody was living above him. His dirty room was not the only one, his dirty room was not the only one. Alfred felt himself smiling against the arm and then let go of it. The arm in return moved and then waved itself around until it was able to touch the sunny blond. The long fingers touched the soft but dirty hair, before moving to Alfred's face. The fingers brushed against his cheeks, jaw and nose.
But just as quick as the touch had been it was gone. The arm was gone and Alfred found himself standing on the tip of his toes and resting his hands on the wall so he could see through the hole the arm had left behind but there was nothing to be seen. It was dark and nothing else. Darkness was blocking his view from the owner of the arm and the only other human being he had seen aside from the people that would come and take him away.
Alfred could hear noises though. He could hear shifting and moving on the floor above him. Soon the arm was back and it was holding something, a piece of cloth. The sunny blond reached for the piece of cloth and stared at it. Red words were written on the piece of cloth, words that he could recognize from reading a long time ago, so long ago he couldn't remember where. It was hard to read, so very hard with so little light but Alfred was able to do it, he forced his eyes as much as he could.
'Hello, my name is Arthur'
The handwriting was sloppy and hardly understandable but it was mostly because it was written on a piece of cloth. The blue eyed male glanced around his dirty room to see if he could find anything to write with, but there was nothing. Of course there wasn't. He was able to memorize the whole room and there was nothing he could write with. Did Arthur's room had anything to write with?
No, of course not.
Alfred stared down at the note and shivered. The red hand writing was done with blood. It had been written with what was available for them. Nothing but themselves. If this Arthur was able to do it, then why not him? The sunny blond bit down on his thumb until blood was crawling out. He didn't waste any time, not one second was meant to be spared. He wrote one single sentence, biting on his finger once again when the blood would get too thick or his body would stop the bleeding.
All he needed was one sentence.
'Hello Arthur, my name is Alfred.'
Maybe the spelling was wrong, maybe not. Alfred wasn't able to tell after so many years. The darkness in his room would make it too hard to see if an A and an O didn't look too alike but it didn't matter. The blue eyed boy gave the piece of cloth back and the hand was gone again.
The arm was back a couple of minutes later and it waved. Alfred attempted to smile in return, like if the hand was capable of seeing his lips twitching and spreading into something he didn't know he was capable of doing anymore.
The dirty room was now different. It wasn't the same anymore, something changed. Alfred always thought changes were bad, because everything changed when he first arrived to this place. Changes were not good, they were done to scare you and to hurt you. Changes were never good, not at all.
The dirty room was fine staying like it was. The people coming in and hurting him were fine as well. Everything was fine. The clothes he would wear every day, the food he would eat every day. Everything was fine because it never changed. Now that something was different and it didn't hurt Alfred found himself liking it.
The sunny blond would sit underneath the hole. He even pulled his old and dirty bed near the ceiling hole so he could be as close as the hole as he possibly could. He would stare, and stare and wait and wait. Until the hand was back and would move around. The hand would wait for Alfred to touch it and then it would gently touch his fingers before grasping it. The sunny blond would often find himself standing for hours, nuzzling the soft palm and rubbing his cheek against the long fingers. Anything was good. This contact was good, this felt nice.
The hand was sometimes gone for a long time, for so long that Alfred would believe the hand was gone for good. It would disappear and Alfred could hear noises coming from the room above. He could hear small noises, soft little sobbing and sniffles. Sometimes he wondered if he could really hear the noise of tears falling but it was impossible. How could he hear such a thing?
Why was Arthur doing that though? Why was he making those noises? There was no point, no reason and they didn't make a difference. He learned that a long time ago, so long ago. How many times did he cry? How many times had he sobbed and begged? Maybe too many. He was sedated most of the time. He was told he was annoying and too stubborn. Maybe he had too much energy, nobody would ever give him a clear answer, they would just mumble among themselves and nothing else.
But now…now, why was his Arthur sad? Why was he not giving him his arm to hold?
It made him upset. It made him angry. It made him sad. Alfred would feel his eyes growing wet and soon tears would run from the corner of his eyes. He couldn't remember the last time he cried. He couldn't even remember why he cried last time but now he was doing it again. His cheeks were getting wet and his eyes began to burn. He could taste the saltiness of his tears against his lips and he wiped them off with the back of his hand. Crying felt bad, it hurt. It hurt so badly. He could feel his chest growing tighter and making it hard to breath. No wonder Arthur wouldn't reach for him, if he was feeling so bad then he couldn't reach for him.
The sunny blond ignored the tears on his eyes and got on top of his bed. He stood on the tip of his toes and reached for the hole on the ceiling. He couldn't reach far enough. He couldn't, his arms were not long enough.
Soft fingers touched his own and Alfred felt his chest growing tighter, but this feeling was different. It didn't hurt and the sunny blond felt himself smiling again. He sighed softly and the arm slowly reached lower until it was possible for Alfred to get off his bed and stand on the floor so he could hold the arm again. So he could feel the palm against his cheek and chin.
The arm would change as well. It wasn't the same all the time and it made Alfred frown. The arm would be covered on blood sometimes. It would have bandages or band aids. Sometimes even odd stitches that would make the blue eyed boy shiver and close his eyes.
Arthur was hurting, just like he had so many years ago. Maybe he was new to this, unlike him. Maybe he was new to all of this.
Alfred tried to remember how he had felt when he first arrived to this place…but he couldn't. All of that was gone, everything was gone. He couldn't remember how he even got here to begin with. All he could remember was his dirty room, his own little space and his own little fort.
He could remember one thing, one thing only. How much he had wanted for someone to hold him, how he wanted someone to make him feel better when he was hurting or when things got worst. All of that he could remember, because he could still feel. He was still able to feel things he just chose to ignore those feelings now. Just now. Just for now. Just until everything was better.
The sunny blond felt himself crying again and he hugged the arm. He hugged it close to his face and gently touched the wounds. He would make Arthur feel better, he would make him feel better than he did when he first got here. Everything would be alright because Arthur was not going to be alone. No, he was not going to leave him alone. Not when he needed him as well.
It became a routine for Alfred to 'see' Arthur every day. He would talk to him. he would say things that wouldn't leave his throat. He would rub his lips against those fingers as he spoke and he would smile. The fingers would gently touch him in return. They would stroke his hair and gently rub his jaw line and chin.
Maybe Alfred was lucky, maybe he wasn't because he was depending too much on Arthur. He would stare at the ceiling until he was back. Until he could hear that the crying was gone and Arthur was ready to see him again.
The blue eyed male didn't even care when the people would come and get him. They would do whatever they had to do and then they toss him back into his room. That's all Alfred wanted, that's all Arthur needed. He wanted to be back in his room, nothing else. Everything but Arthur was forgotten just like he forgot about what was happening around him before.
It would make Alfred scream when the people would come and get Arthur. He could hear the other scream and cry. He could hear him fighting and struggling and how the people were pulling and hurting him until he was out of the room.
Alfred would hug his knees then. He would rub his lips together and stare at the hole on his ceiling with tears falling from the corner of his eyes. He wanted to do something. The blue eyed male wanted to stop them. He wanted to reach through that small hole and take Arthur. Take the other and scream at the people to leave him alone. To stop what they were doing because it hurt.
Everything hurt so much. It felt so bad when Arthur was not around.
The sunny blond covered his ears with both of his hands and screamed. It was a silent scream but he screamed as loud as he could. He gripped on his hair and pulled on the blond strands. Yanking on the sunny locks until his head was pounding against his skull. He would cry then and curl on his bed, feeling the pain and numbness overcoming his senses. He would even feel cold after wards.
The arm was back after the people would drop Arthur back in his room. The shaky limb would reach down and would slowly and tiredly move around. Alfred would reach for it and would hold it tight, not letting go until it stopped moving. It was then that the sunny blond was able to tell that Arthur was asleep or passed out from exhaustion and Alfred could understand. He could, because he used to do the same. He did the same before, a long time ago, so long ago he couldn't remember.
Things changed one day. Things changed again.
The door for his dirty room was open but new people came in. These people were holding flashlights and waving them around, making it hard for the sunny blond to see anything. He covered his eyes with both of his hands, hiding his eyes from the blinding light. The people rushed inside and gently shook his shoulders, saying something that Alfred could understand but he couldn't answer.
One of the men picked him up like a kid and took him away. The sunny blond struggled. He screamed and shook his head while trying to reach for the ceiling. He tried to cling to it with all of his might but the men were stronger. They took him away and closed the door behind them.
Everything was different. The hallway was now too bright and people were rushing through it. Alfred was able to see that the new people were all wearing black and were picking up other kids from the rest of the bedrooms. Some looked too young, some looked too old but all of them were being carried outside.
The blue eyed boy had to close his eyes and hiss loudly when the sunlight touched his skin. He covered his face with both of his eyes and then slowly removed them. With a bit of fear, the sunny blond opened his eyes. They were outside a building and in front of him a lot of different cars were parked all through the courtyard. More men in black, army suits were rushing inside the building while some other were carrying children outside and setting them down on small beds where other people were quickly checking their vitals and also making sure that they were not in danger.
Alfred was carried to one of those small beds. He was forced to lie down and a needle was then pushed against the skin of his arm. Everything went dark and he could feel himself crying. Where was his Arthur?
Alfred woke up in a different room. The room was sunny and more than one bed was inside of it, not only that, but people were sleeping on the beds. Alfred glanced around and sat up. He let his eyes roam over the clean and fresh room. People were deep asleep, none of them were moving but Alfred wanted to move. He needed to move.
The blue eyed male tossed the blankets off of his body and stood up. He yanked on the needles on his arm and then pulled all of the cords around his body off of him. He heard some noise coming from the machine next to him but he didn't care.
This place was new, this was somewhere new but he didn't care. Not now, not until he found Arthur. Where was Arthur? Alfred found himself tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling but there was no hole there, no arm reaching for him and no Arthur. The sunny blond swallowed heavily and felt his eyes getting wet but he quickly shook his head and instead glanced around the room.
Which one of them was Arthur? Who was Arthur? The sunny blond moved to the bed to his right and lifted the blankets. No, this was not Arthur. It didn't feel like Arthur.
Alfred did the same with each bed until a nurse came inside and quickly pulled him away. She called for help and Alfred screamed. He screamed and shook his head, he pulled on his hair and cried.
'I just want to find Arthur.'
He screamed to them but like always, no words left his mouth.
Alfred woke up once again in the same room, this time a nurse was next to him and began to talk to him. She said things that he didn't care to hear. Instead he stood up and began to look for Arthur again. The nurse tried to stop him and he simply pushed her away. He once again looked through the rest of the beds, and saw when the nurse ran towards the exit to call for help. It didn't matter.
Just where was Arthur?
The blue eyed male was crying again, his throat felt sore and raw but nothing could compare to the pain on his chest. Nothing could ever compare to that.
Who was Arthur?
Alfred ended up staring at the patient's arms. He would touch and stare at every single one. The nurse was back then, and other people were with her but Alfred quickly ran to the other side of the room until he tripped and pulled on a blanket as he did so. The sunny blond quickly stood up and tried to avoid the nurses and doctors. They kept saying something to him but he just shook his head and screamed at them in return.
Until he touched the person that was sleeping on the bed next to his.
Alfred's eyes went wide when his fingers brushed against a hand. Slowly he glanced down at the boy that was sleeping on the bed next to him. The sandy blond was breathing evenly and was almost completely covered with bandages. The blanket that had been covering his body was gone, showing how he was missing one of his arms and bandages were carefully wrapped around one of his eyes while the rest of his body was wrapped with thicker bandages. Burnt marks could be see through the small gaping spaces.
The blue eyed male couldn't care though. He didn't see the damage, he didn't see the abuse. All that he could see was the healthy arm that was now near his hand. Alfred swallowed thickly and then wrapped his arms around the boy in front of him. He felt tears on his eyes again and he noticed the confused look on the doctors and nurses faces but right now all he cared was about the smaller body that he was holding.
The sandy blond opened his eyes soon enough and an emerald eye stared at Alfred. He looked confused, scared even. Arthur was scared of him and Alfred quickly shook his head before holding his healthy hand and gently forcing Arthur to run his fingers against his cheeks and the rest of his face. The sandy blond did so, slowly he ran his fingers through the damaged skin of Alfred's face. Bruises were almost covering Alfred's whole face but asides from that no other damage had been done.
Alfred smiled softly when Arthur seemed to recognize him and then the sandy blond was smiling himself. Then he was laughing and Alfred could hear the soft voice ringing against his ears. The sunny blond hugged the shorter male close to his body and opened his mouth to say something.
Arthur stared at him and then gave a sad bitter smile. The shorter male gently touched his ears and shook his head.
Arthur couldn't hear. He was deaf.
Alfred was able to get this at least and he gave a small smile to hide the sadness that was hiding in his eyes. Slowly the sunny blond touched his throat and shook his head.
It was fine if Arthur couldn't hear, because Alfred couldn't speak. The two were fine. The two already knew how to speak to each other. The two knew that only one touch was now enough for the two to understand each other.
Because when misery consumes you, everything can be bright light of hope and Alfred was able to find his own.
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