Fuuhh, Hey, guys. I'm not dead. Although you could consider my activity on well...dead.

I guess I don't have much dilligence to write and finish big stories, huh? ahaha.

Anyway, yeah, Chapter 5.

In the days following Arthur's clipped introduction he had been confined to the small bed he had awoken in. Kiku had come by the day after to help with the medication for his injuries, but other than that there was no sight of anyone else besides Alfred and Matthew. Matthew decided that even though he hadn't voiced the wish that Arthur probably wouldn't want to meet anyone of their friends who were curious about him, so he generally kept them from visiting the house.

Each day after Alfred had gotten a name out of the scruffy blonde, said blonde would nearly jump out of bed when he woke up. Throughout that entire day, he would think. On the outside he seemed to be void of anything, not much motion, not much feeling, but on the inside he was still as confused and emotionally conflicted as he was when he woke up, perhaps even more so. Even a full week later when Alfred sat next to him and tried to converse with him he was too involved internally.

Alfred had sat next to the injured blonde for at least an hour in silence that day, much like the other days prior. He had attempted to get him to talk more, even if it wasn't answers to his questions, but he had fallen completely silent. He wouldn't so much as make a sound. He just seemed to have zoned out, with his hands methodically messing about themselves in his blanketed lap. Alfred eventually gave up and sat there for a while keeping an eye on him. Arthur was still afflicted by his fever while all this went on, but that didn't keep him from thinking.

Alfred turned his gaze from the window back to the man in front of him. He could tell Arthur didn't even realize he was still there, so he figured he would be alright if he left the room for a while. In fact he probably preferred it; the man seemed odd and stiff in his presence. He got up from his seat and simply told him he should rest and that he would check on his condition later, maybe bringing Kiku along too.

Arthur had managed a curt nod at his voice, not really knowing what he had said; only knowing that he was leaving the room. He just couldn't sort anything out within himself. He was jumbled and confused. He wasn't even sure if he could believe anything at the moment. He felt hollow and void; not doing anything besides thinking monotonously. Reality seemed to be slipping away from him- no, he didn't even understand the clear line between reality and whatever its opposite was. Did really even matter? He simply kept reciting to himself once simple fact; he shouldn't be on Earth.

So why did Alfred go out of his way to save him?

No, that was the one question he had come up with that could be answered. It was because Alfred was too kind and simply too noble to let someone bleed out on the streets. He had known that since the falling out of his parents' marriage(and possibly even before hand) the boy had a hero complex. He wanted to save the world, even if he had to do it one person at a time. Though it had diminished now, the drive repressed by the ways of society, Alfred still held those heroics to his character. He was always bright and willing to help even when it wasn't to his benefit at all. Arthur wondered how that part of him worked. He could never find himself doing that. He was too narrow-minded, and a little too delved in other worldly standards to ever develop those tendencies.

That was another reason why Arthur didn't belong here. It only made him angrier with himself. Why did he get to live? He was supposed to die. Yes, he was saved, for that he was grateful, but was that only by chance? Or did Father-No, Rommulus, will him to live? No, it had to be simple chance. Arthur was a fallen and tainted angel, and his place was no where pleasant.

Maybe those above thought Earth was punishment? He sure didn't think so. Earth was distorted and in places very sinful and twisted, but it was also a beautiful place once you looked past it. No matter how small and uninvolved it was in the grand scheme of things, there were always those that showed hope for the beings of this world. Arthur was sure Alfred was one of them.

He heard Alfred come back into the room along with the dark-haired Kiku, and his brother, who if Arthur remembered correctly, was named Matthew. He kept his eyes trained on his lap, not willing eye contact, and not wishing to speak yet again.

Why did he refuse to speak? Well, there were plenty of reasons. One being he felt he didn't deserve to interact with Alfred, and he was also very apprehensive. What if when they started talking Alfred didn't like him? Perhaps he would accidentally anger the blonde? He wouldn't want their relationship strained by anything(though they had no relationship to begin with). He was also so used to just being a spectator. Now that he was in this world, he was unaccustomed to being interacted with. He was a more lone soul up in the Heavens. He had friends, but again things were different in his world.

The biggest reason however was because when they tried to talk to him it was mainly questions, and Arthur had no answers.

Alfred sat back in the chair he had been in about a few hours ago(had he really been thinking for that long?). Mattie pulled up a chair as well, while Kiku came over on the opposite side of Arthur. He was adamant in not making eye contact, and began to anticipate what they were here for.

Kiku put his hand on Arthur's bandaged forehead, checking if his fever had possibly gone down. Since Arthur simply sat there this was easy to do, but information wise would still be at a standstill. However since Alfred and Mattie hadn't gotten anything. Kiku thought he would give it a shot.

"Ah, Excuse me..." The petite Japanese man tried to get his attention but Arthur wouldn't budge. He was trying to find a polite way to address him, but didn't know how to go about it. Arthur may not have given him assistance, but Alfred did.

"His name's Arthur." Alfred pointed out. Kiku looked at Arthur, who was still not paying attention(as far as they knew) and then back at his American friend.

"How do you know Alfred-san?"

"He told me last week when he woke up. Since then he hasn't really spoken though. It's all I got from him; Arthur Kirkland." Kiku nodded and turned back to Arthur.

"Arthur-san. Do you know how you got so hurt?"

Nothing. Arthur wouldn't answer anything. He knew he was being difficult, but what choice did he have? He had nothing in this world. They were probably expecting him to have answers for them. What was he supposed to tell them?

"Arthur-san please. The only way we can get this sorted out and get you back to your normal life is if you talk to us."

Arthur gripped the bed sheets, which seemed to be a habit when his emotions peaked. The constant questioning was getting to him. Wouldn't they just give up already? He had no damn answers to give! No bloody life to return to, and that was it! He had nothing. So he gave them nothing for an answer. Simple as that.

Mattie seemed to pick up on Arthur's irritation and decided to speak up.

"Ah, K-Kiku, maybe we should ask more, subtle things." He proposed. Kiku looked up to the violet eyed boy and nodded.

"Alright. Um...-"

"How old are ya Artie?" Alfred piped up. Arthur flinched slightly at the sudden loud voice, but it got him to look up at them. He still had no answer, so he looked back down at his hands coldly. Alfred frowned, but tried to keep going. "You look like you're in your early 20's. 21?..." Nothing. "22 maybe?"

Just to possibly give them something Arthur nodded at the number. He assumed that was a maturing age, but not too old. If he had told them his actual age, there was no way they would even believe him.

Alfred grinned. "Sweet! Me and my bro Mattie here are only 19. We're twins, ya know?" He was treating this situation like Arthur was just naturally quiet. Maybe he would open up if Alfred just acted himself? Treated him like a friend? It was worth a try.

"A-Ah, I'm still 18, but we're all in the same year in college." Kiku added, trying to go with Alfred's approach. It wasn't really going to do much; Arthur pretty much knew this trivial information already. They kept speaking to him but after a few minutes he unintentionally blocked them out again. Instead he focused on the sudden heat of his body, and the slight moisture on his forehead and neck, which were becoming unbearable.

He must have shown it in his face because Mattie spoke up again. "Maybe we should leave him alone guys. Let him rest and get over the fever, eh?"

Kiku and Alfred looked at him and nodded, standing up from their seats. Alfred grinned and told Arthur he'd be back later, and Kiku gave a polite goodbye to Arthur and the brothers, saying he had to go to classes. After a half an hour of sitting up right after the three had left Arthur laid back on his cool pillow and fell asleep.

However only an hour later Arthur began tossing and turning in bed, irritating his back and wounded ribcage. Try as he might, he couldn't stay asleep. His eyes creaked open as he lay on his left side, facing the wall that separated him from the bathroom.

Swimming through thoughts in his head was consuming him, and suddenly realizing this he sat up in bed again.

'I need a distraction.'

He had so many things to think about, but for one moment he wished to get away from it all. Not think or wonder, not question the ways things worked or why the hell he was there. He just wanted something else to occupy his time.

He knew he was in Alfred's home, so more than likely there was something to do here that wasn't out of his abilities, which he could probably do normally, but again he had slight illness(Although he would never admit to feeling sick. Why would he let others see how weak he could get?).

Looking about the room he finally took in the things around him. He had never bothered to do such a thing and strain his tired eyes before, but now since his vision was at least recovered he should know where things were.

It was a simple room, its walls painted a creamy off-white, matching the curtains on the window next to him, which showed golden sunlight flittering into the room. It was the only source of light in this room, except for the lamp in the corner and the desk lamp, but both were off at the moment. The formerly mentioned desk lamp was of course, atop a dark oak wood desk. It had other such things on it that you would expect: pencils, notebooks, library books, and a calculator. He assumed this was where one of the brother's did some kind of work; otherwise these things wouldn't be here.

Beyond those things, the bed he was currently on, and the bathroom door that lead to a pretty plain toilet and shower set-up, the rest of the things in the room with him where cardboard boxes and other storage-type things. If not that then things you would probably see stored in an attic or something. Arthur deduced that this was probably the room in place of an attic, placing things they no longer used and such in here, but things they also didn't want to throw away.

Hit with another surge of restlessness, the former angel moved the sheets off of his legs, and turned himself to the side of the bed. He looked down at the hard wood floor, almost as if he thought his legs would snap if he stood on them. Eventually his listless nerves got the better of him and he simply stood on his feet.

He immediately felt heavy and almost fell over. It's not like he had never walked before, but he felt much more pressure on his limbs than he used to up in the Heavens. He also became increasingly aware of how sore he was. Perhaps something in his body had changed when he ended up here? Was he in a corporal body now?-

He shook his head once these questions entered his mind. He got out of bed to find something to distract these questions, not discover more of them!

He shuffled his way over to the door, being careful before he got enough assurance that he could walk normally. He glanced at the door, and turned the brass doorknob, letting himself peek out into the carpeted hall. No one seemed to be present, so he quietly proceeded to wander about the house.

Heading down the stairs to the first floor he found himself in some sort of small foyer. There was a fire place and a few pictures about the walls, though not very many. There was a carpet on the floor, and a small black piano in the corner. Any normal person would have questioned as to why two twin brothers in college with not very high up jobs had managed to get a nice home such as this. However Arthur could remember the fact that their real mother had remarried a wealthy business man, so it was more than likely Alfred's step-father had either previously owned the place, or had helped them with purchasing it.

Arthur made his way around the end of the stairwell sluggishly. He still hadn't found much that he could occupy himself with, so he simply stood there looking about the room. Before long his eyes rested on the piano in the corner again. Getting a closer look, it seemed well taken care of, even though it may have not been touched in a while. Dust lightly covered the top, and even the cover for the piano keys. He made his way over and placed himself on the bench in front of it. Running his fingers along the dusty cover he lightly brushed it off of his fingers as it fluttered away.

He lifted up the cover, causing dust to lightly fly all around him. It wasn't enough to start up a coughing fit, but it did make him wince a little, not wanting to get any in his eyes. Once it died down and drifted to the other ends of the foyer Arthur ran his fingers along the cool white keys. He smiled. He was never one for his piano and musical skills, but he offered every once in a while to play with Toris when they had prayer. Someone was always playing, and it was usually Toris, but Arthur wasn't the only one Toris had offered to teach. He was very nimble with his hands, and his fingers always glided along they keys in a quaint manner.

Arthur had learned how to play decently, but he didn't have the skill that his friend had. Though with nothing else to do he conformed to the idea of playing. He placed his fingers on the keys, vaguely remembering the right places, and tested the waters. It sounded right, so from there he simply let whatever tunes he was thinking of come through on the keys.

Eventually these random melodies drifted to one in particular that he had taught himself to play. In fact, there were plenty of reasons why he liked it and wanted to adapt it to the piano, but only after he had sung it to Alfred when he was little did it gain most of its meaning.

The ringing of the notes seemed to sound through the house as his muscle memory took over for his concentration. He thought back to that time. Alfred was so little, still unaware of the pains of feelings and love. Arthur was unaware of it too back then, but they had both found out in different ways, didn't they? He let out a weary laugh at the connection.

Towards the ending of the small melody he heard the floor boards creak behind him. Although he was too engrossed with his thoughts to pay it full attention. It only became fully aware to him when he heard Alfred speak up.

"When did you learn to play?"

"Holy!-" Arthur nearly crashed through the roof at the sound of Alfred's voice. "Bloody hell! Would you not sneak up on me like that?" He snapped back at him, not taking the scare very well. Alfred put his hands up as if he were just arrested by a cop.

"Woah, Woah. No need to get snippy there Artie! I was just curious. You haven't told us anything, so..." He drifted off from there. Arthur's shoulders relaxed and he turned back to the piano in front of him.

"Sorry, you startled me is all. Um..." Why did this feel so natural? "I was taught by a friend a little while back. Yeah."

He heard Alfred come closer to the piano bench before he kept talking.

"Really? Cool. I was never good at playing instruments. I tried the saxophone, but I gave up. My brother can play a bit of the piano and clarinet though." He paused for a moment as if he had noticed something.

"You feeling better?"

"Yeah." He kept looking at the piano keys, now quiet in their normal positions. Alfred frowned, he could tell if he didn't keep him talking Arthur was going to clam up again. He scrambled for a topic.

"S-So! Artie, Do you...um...live around here?" He thought. It was a simple enough question, not too personal, maybe he'd answer.

Arthur stiffened and his jaw clenched.

"I-" 'Damn, what the hell am I supposed to say? I don't live in this world, let alone this bleeding town!' "Where are we, exactly?"

"Hanover." Arthur gave him a blank look. "In New Hampshire! You know?"

Arthur's brow scrunched in more confusion. "You don't even know what state you're in? Dude, are you even from America?"

"I don't see how that has to do with anything. I'm sure a majority of this country doesn't know where New Hampshire is either." Arthur retorted. Alfred suddenly noticed the accent.

"Ooohh!" A light bulb clicked on. "You're from England! How could I have missed that really British accent? I mean, it's so British..." He ended, talking more to himself than Arthur. "Sorry 'bout that Artie!"

Arthur twitched. "It's Arthur not 'Artie' Thank you. You don't hear me butchering your name, do you?" He asked. Alfred seemed to brush it off.

"Yeah yeah, if you say so." He folded his arms over his chest and grinned at Arthur. "I'm just glad you're talking to me. I thought you'd never open up."

"Oh...I guess I did belt up a bit." He tried to play it off like he didn't do it intentionally, which was just an outright lie. This was quickly becoming a theme. He would barely get through conversations with others by the seat of his pants. A slight silence passed between the two, though this time it wasn't so strained.

"Hey...do you think you could tell me if there's someone we should call to, you know, get you back home?"

Arthur blinked at the question. Alfred rubbed the back of his neck. "I mean it's not like we don't want you here! It's just..."

Alfred's voice faded out from there as it sunk in.

Home. Arthur didn't have one. He didn't have anything; no friends, no family, no job, no money, not even a dinky one man apartment to live out of. How was he supposed to survive here? He just got dropped on his ass here on Earth, and now that he survived the fall, how was he going to survive Earth itself? This was too much to push on him at once. Perhaps he did integrate into society. Where would that lead him? In some pitiful existence still struggling to understand the things around it, as it worked itself to the bone for a living? Surely he'd have to work harder than those around him. They were brought up for this! Arthur had no place, no preparation. The damn Archangels just dropped him on his sodding arse to do or die!

"W-Whoa, Hey...I didn't mean to make you cry man. Cheer up! You don't have to answer if you don't want to. You can tell me some other time!" Alfred sputtered. He had already seen the man cry twice. Although he barely knew Arthur, he hated seeing people cry. He'd comfort him, but he wouldn't possibly want such from a stranger like Alfred anyway, at least that's how Alfred thought.

Arthur's balled fists loosened as the tears streaming down his cheeks became apparent to him. He wiped furiously at them.

"S-Sorry mate, I'm a bit unstable right now. So many questions..." He managed to get out coherently. Alfred placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Questions? Like what?" He seemed worried. Arthur refused to look at him while he was making such an expression.

"Ah, many of them. Just...what I'm doing here, how I got here, all that."

This time it was Alfred who looked confused.

"You mean you don't even know?-Do you even remember where you live?"

'What is he getting at?' Arthur got up from the piano bench and rubbed his head.

"Oh man...This isn't good. Hey, c'mon let's go call Kiku!" Before Arthur knew what was going on he was grabbed by Alfred and dragged into the small kitchen. It wasn't a very large kitchen, but it was practical enough. Alfred let go of Arthur's wrist and pulled the phone from the counter, starting to dial his friend. While he did that Arthur simply looked at his surroundings. There were a few unclean dishes in the kitchen, the fridge had odd pictures on them, and there was a left over pancake on the pan that was left on the now turned off stove.

"Hey, Kiku! We got a break through. Artie started talking!" Alfred seemed eccentric about that fact.

"For the second bloody time, it's Arthur, not Artie!" He frowned, but it didn't reach his eyes. He couldn't help the fact that, although Arthur was acting quiet negative and dare he say cold towards him, Alfred looked like he was hanging out with one of his friends. Maybe in time, that look on the situation would be true? 'No no...Don't go getting optimistic now Arthur.' He reminded himself.

"Yeah that was him. He's British apparently. But the thing is." Alfred stopped and looked back at the slightly pouting Brit in front of him. It distracted him for a minute.

"Alfred-san? What is it?" Kiku called on the other end of the line.

"He- uh, he can't remember anything. He didn't even know what town he was in, or even knew what happened to him." He said. "You think its amnesia?"

"Can't remember?...I'll come by with Yao-san tomorrow, and we'll see how bad it is. I believe, by what you are saying that it is safe to assume that Arthur-san does have amnesia."

Fun Fact for CH5: There's a 'village' in New York called Alfred, named after Alfred the Great. This town also hosts the annual Hot Dog Day Festival. Yah.

Chapter 6: Tredding the Waters

After having a few more words with Kiku over the phone, he eventually had to go. His shift at the hospital was starting and he had yet to be late, he didn't want to start that now. He reassured his American friend that he and his cousin would be over tomorrow when they weren't busy, and then hung up.

Alfred placed the phone back in the charger and turned back to his house guest.

"So..." Alfred looked around the kitchen. Arthur simply stood there by the kitchen table, rubbing his arm like he was cold. Alfred's eyes landed on the stove.

"Oh hey! I just realized. You haven't eaten in a week! You want the rest of the pancakes? My bro Mattie made them. He makes awesome pancakes." Alfred began babbling. Arthur fought the urge to cut him off but he didn't feel like being to out spoken like usual just yet.

"Ah, No. I'm alright, really." Arthur answered, looking out the doorway to the foyer where they had been previously. Alfred wouldn't have it though.

"Oh c'mon. You have to eat! Don't tell me you're not even the least bit hungry." He went over to the stove.

"No really, I'm not-" His stomach betrayed him as it gave a low growl. The sensation irked the Brit and he shut up as if it had just called him a liar. He stubbornly looked away from Alfred who was grinning.

"T-That was...on purpose."

"You can make your stomach growl on purpose? Cool! Teach me!"

"Ehh...-Okay fine." Arthur gave in and took the plate of pancakes from Alfred's hands, and proceeded to pull out a chair from the not so big, kitchen table. He placed the plate down and started looking about the cabinets while Alfred watched.

"Whatchya' looking for?"

"Oh...Silver-ware." He let go of the wooden cabinet door he had just pulled open, suddenly remembering it was rude to go through another person's things, even if it was just the kitchen. "Where do you keep them?"

Alfred drew a blank. "Uh..."

"You don't know?"

"No I do! I just...uh."

"Git, never mind. I found them." Arthur muttered and shut the drawer containing what he needed; heading back to the plate of pancakes waiting for him. He stopped to ask before eating. "Aren't you going to have anything?"

Alfred seemed to be in thought, but answered his question anyway. "Nah, I'm good. Funny, it feels like morning, when we should probably be having dinner instead of pancakes." Alfred leaned on the counter top and folded his arms loosely across his chest.

Arthur simply gave a slight nod, and started eating quietly. Alfred let him eat without disturbing him; he figured he was starving so simply kept to his own thoughts.

However it didn't take long for Alfred's eyes to fixate themselves on Arthur's form sitting at the table diagonal from him. As Arthur ate, Alfred got to study him more by his mannerisms and such. Even though he was very obviously running on empty until just now, Arthur still paced himself and used his table manners, unlike Alfred, who would chow down even at the slightest inclination of proverbial space in his stomach for more food.

Drifting off in thought his eyes moved to Arthur's back. His torso was still wrapped by gauze, as well as his forehead and his right leg. Alfred's mind again drifted to how he had even gotten those injuries in the first place. Although with his apparent amnesia(if that was the case, he still wasn't sure yet), he doubted he was ever going to find out any time soon.

Alfred blinked, noticing as Arthur kept eating that the large wound about mid back was peaking above the bandages. It was bright and blistered, as if something got hacked out; a chunk of Arthur's skin or muscle was probably missing. Even though Alfred couldn't see it all, he knew it was a serious wound, and was definitely going to scar. There was no way something like that could be an accident, either.

Arthur tried to stifle a yawn as he got up from his seat to place his plate in the sink. He turned to his left and caught Alfred staring, he averted his eyes.

"What are you looking at?" Arthur felt uneasy under Alfred's attention. It had been the other way for so long; it would be hard to get used to.

"Oh, I just, was thinking, that's all. About what might have happened to you. You sure you don't remember?"

"No, it's very hazy." Arthur answered almost too quickly for his liking. It didn't sound believable, but the blonde seemed to not notice his urgency to detour from the question. Alfred yawned, and stood up straight.

"Alright then...We'll get this figured out. Don't worry, Arthur."

Arthur didn't believe that, but he nodded anyway. He followed Alfred back out into the hallway and to the stairs. He shivered and rubbed his arms, suddenly noticing he had no shirt on, or pants for that matter.

"W-Where's the bathroom?" He asked quickly. "I'd like to take a shower, if you don't mind."

Alfred laughed. "You just noticed you're half naked, didn't you?" Arthur went bright red, his jaw clenching in embarrassment. "There's one in the room you've been staying in. Go take one in there and I'll leave a change of clothes on the bed, 'kay?"

Arthur mumbled a stubborn thank you, and bolted past him and back to his room.

sfgdchyrtjcfhtg I'm a horrible author, but I had this lying around, so.

Here? Yeah. Uneventful. Woops.