As Alfred had been speaking to Francis, Arthur had finished his shower, and, wrapped in a towel, had silently walked to Alfred's room. As he had been about to knock on the door, he heard voices that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. One voice was the voice of his lover, the voice he loved dearly.
The other voice he never thought he'd hear again.
Arthur quietly pressed his right ear to the door and began to listen. Apparently, neither was aware of the fact that the water was no longer running in the bathroom, as they spoke without stopping.
"...Autumn, non?" Arthur bristled, his face pale. Now he was sure. The voice of Francis Bonnefoy, the man he was sure had died in the accident he had caused so long ago, echoed, slightly muffled, in his ear. There was silence for a moment, and then Alfred spoke. "You asked her to be here. Why, though?"
It was obvious to Arthur that Francis and Alfred had spoken before. He shivered and wondered what Francis had already told him. Francis spoke once more, and Arthur could hear the smirk in his voice "You should already know." There was hardly a pause before Alfred spoke again. "No, I don't know, you idiot. That's why I'm asking you." A sigh was heard and rung in Arthur's ear. His heart thudded in his chest. He was surprised that the two men inside Alfred's room did not hear it's drum-like pounding, as it seemed very, very loud to Arthur himself.
"Think, mon ami." Again, more silence, and then another sigh from Francis. The subject was changed and Arthur felt himself pale when he heard the subject spoken of. "Have you spoken to Arthur yet about what you know?" Silence that made Arthur's chest ache filled the room. Finally, Francis spoke again. "Wow, you're really keeping everytheeng a secret, mon dieu."
"Yeah, well, I don't want Arthur to freak out or anything. I want to talk to him, but I don't know how," Alfred said. Francis said nothing for a moment, then his voice filled the room. "So many pieces and yet no way to glue them all together. What a pity. I will come see you when you begin to see a clearer picture."
After his words, there was silence once more. Arthur's heart seemed as if it would beat right out of his chest. He backed away from the door and rushed into his room, digging through his drawers, pulling on underwear, pants, a shirt, then draping the towel over his head, his breathing heavy. A sentence of his own fabrication echoed in his head.
Alfred knows about me.
Arthur lay on his side upon his bed, biting his lip until he tasted the metallic tang of blood. What should he do? Should he tell Alfred that they needed to talk? Should he tell Alfred his own side of the story? He sighed and sucked on his lip, the taste of blood bitter and nauseating.
What am I going to do?
Slowly, as time went by, and Alfred did not come to Arthur's room to at least talk to him, he got angry. Why hadn't Alfred told him he knew? Was it really that hard to talk to Arthur? His thick eyebrows furrowed and he frowned. He crossed his arms over his chest and faced away from the door, fuming.
A few moments after his blood had begun to boil, he heard a knock at the door. His frown grew deeper. "Arthur? You in there?" Alfred could not possibly know of the angry Brit that awaited him past that door, not until Arthur answered, his tone full of annoyance. "What do you want?"
Alfred winced at his tone. He opened the door slightly and peeked into the room. He saw Arthur, curled up in fetal position, his back toward the door, a towel still draped over his head. "What's wrong, Artie?" Arthur growled. "How many bloody times have I told you not to call me that, you git?" Arthur didn't turn around but his voice still had the sharp effect he wanted. Alfred shrunk back like a kicked puppy.
Even so, after another moment, he opened the door a bit more and slid into the room, closing the door behind him. He sat upon the edge of Arthur's bed. Arthur sat up but did not look at him. "Arthur, seriously. What's going on? Why are you so mad?" Arthur suddenly whirled around and Alfred saw the anger clearly in his emerald eyes. "You! Why didn't you tell me you knew?"
Alfred's eyes widened. "How did you even find out, Arthur? I was going to tell you but-"
"But you didn't know how. Yeah. I know." Arthur's anger had only slightly faded. The flames of his rage still smoldered in his eyes. Alfred reached out to touch him, but Arthur shrugged away. "Tell me everything you know, Alfred. Because I heard you talking with that...that... Francy pants! He's supposed to be dead. Dead!" Arthur's face was bright red in anger. The fright he felt was also apparent when he mentioned Francis and the fact that he was still on the Earth.
Alfred sighed and he told him all he knew. He told him the story about how Arthur had destroyed everything, the way Francis had told him. He told him how Francis was actually dead, was now a ghost with a purpose of looking out for Arthur. He told him all he could, but there were still things he didn't know.
"Like, I don't know why Autumn or Corvi are here. I don't know what they have to do with you." Arthur took it all in, his anger fading, and nodded. "There's just one thing, Artie." Arthur looked up at Alfred. "What is it?"
Alfred smiled apologetically. "Okay, I've been through all this, seeing Francis as a ghost and stuff, but I'm still sort of...unsure if it's true. Arthur, can you really do the stuff Francis says you can? The magic and everything?"
Arthur looked away from Alfred and sighed. After a moment, he looked back up, gulping and nodded. "I'll prove it." Alfred nodded and watched Arthur. Arthur held out his hands in front of him, palms flat, fingers outstretched, the way his own mother had when she had first shown him what she could really do.
Alfred watched in awe as Arthur mumbled a few words and slowly, before his eyes, two blue flames ignited, almost as if out of nothing. They were small, rounded at the bottom, and blue. The bobbed, gently, up and down on Arthur's open palms. He looked down and then looked back up at Alfred. "Do you believe, now?"
Alfred nodded and continued staring, his eyes still wide. "D-Doesn't it...uh...hurt, though?" Arthur shook his head. "I don't feel much of anything, actually." Alfred nodded. "Oh. Okay." Arthur chuckled softly and closed his hands, making fists. The flames disappeared.
"Now, about Francis." Alfred tilted his head to the side. "What do you mean?" Arthur smiled slightly and took a deep breath. "Don't you think it's about time I spoke to the man who made me angry enough to destroy all I loved?"
Alfred paled. "Arthur, I'm sure you're still mad at him and all, but I swear, he's not mad or any-"
"I know, Alfred. I was kidding. I just want to talk to him. I need to know what his purpose on this Earth is. Ghosts don't just appear without a reason." But deep in Arthur's mind, he wondered about what Alfred had told him, that Francis was looking out for him. A question formed in his mind and grew louder and louder as more time went by.
Why was Francis watching over him when it should have been his mother?
A/N: Hey guys! Yeah, it's been forever since the last update. I'm so so so sorry! I have so much school work. Actually, right now, I'm supposed to be answering some questions on the Code of Manu for AP World History, but instead I wanted to write this magical thing. IT'S FINALLY GOING BACK ONTO IT'S TRUE PLOT AFTER THREE MILLION PLOT DEVIATIONS. I will probably not include Autumn or Corvi for a while in this thing. But they'll be back. Eventually. And I'll probably mention them some. Also: 36 LIKES?! 35 FAVORITES? WHAT EVEN?! I LOVE Y'ALL OMG. Thank you all so much for reach this thing. Virtual cookies for all! I just hope Arthur wasn't the one who made those virtual cookies....