UKUS: Last Chance C.8

Mr. Kirkland set two pills in Alfred’s hand, smile now gone. “Take these, it’ll bring your fever down and get rid of your headache.” His mind was a jumble of everything, trying to sort out just what he would say to the teenager. How could he explain the deal without scaring the student away or completely breaking down mentally? The simple answer,

He couldn’t.

He sat down on the loveseat that rested adjacent to the couch Al laid on. He didn’t look as bad as before that was obvious, but his cheeks were flushed with fever and he shivered even though sweat beaded down his forehead. Arthur’s heart ached in sympathy for the poor teen, a cold like that could really give a hit to whoever had it at the moment. Luckily Artie rarely got sick from the insane amount of vitamins he took so this meant he would most likely not get whatever the American had.

He poked at his spaghetti, twirling it around his fork as his appetite rapidly disappeared. But being a teacher and positive influence he knew he couldn’t skip a meal in front of Al. Well, shove it all down and puke it out if you need to. He brought a forkful to his mouth and raised an eyebrow at Alfred. “So, who do you want to go first? Since you are sick after all I’ll let you pick.”

The American coughed and poked at his own food after swallowing down the pills. The hot chocolate should have calmed him, but the circumstances he faced were not something that was easily calmed. “I know you expect me to immediately say that you need to go first,” he sighed, “But that’s not what I’m going to do. Instead I’ll be the mature one and go first.”

In face Mr. Kirkland has expected the student to choose him to take the first move, he definitely would have made him talk first. Well maybe Alfred had a lot more maturity than he expected. He shrugged and crossed his arms, sinking into the couch a little. “Okay then Mr. Um. Let’s go.”

“…” Al sighed, “What do you do when you see something you weren’t supposed to see but know you should do something about it? Even if it means breaking the trust of someone you really care about?” The Englishman stared at his pasta and gave a long heavy sigh. Okay so maybe this conversation wasn’t supposed to be the most laid back one but this seemed like a pretty angst start to it.

“Well… it depends on the circumstance,” he sipped his drink, “If it’s something as in you saw your brother hitting another student then you should confront him and ask why he continues to do something like that. If it’s seeing your brother’s report card and he has a D in a class then you could still talk to him about it. Or if it’s you saw your father hitting your brother. Then you could tell an adult immediately.” Through all of the scenarios, Al continued to flinch. The last one definitely hit home, but he disguised it all as shivers.

“As in…” he curled into a ball, “You figure out your brother has been lying to you all this time because while you think he’s safe at school he’s really being raped every single day. And you were too oblivious to notice something was wrong in the first place. And now you can’t tell the authorities without getting your brother expelled since the man that is raping him is the eldest son of the headmaster of the school he goes to. And it could ruin his entire educational path now. What do I do in that scenario? Hypothetically of course,” he added with a cough.

Arthur was now silent, one arm over his chest and the other resting on it to pinch the bridge of his nose. His breathing seemed labored, as if holding back an explosion of emotions for now. After a few shaky minutes, he lifted his head and opened his eyes. Those green eyes that were usually so bright with life and sarcasm waiting for its chance to be a smart ass was all gone. The emeralds had been dimmed to a dull glazed color. The only thing that really sparkled anymore were a few tears building.

“How long have you known about this Mr. Jones?” he asked, using the formal title now. This sent a shiver down Alfred spine and he sunk lower into the couch, wanting to take all of his words back. Maybe he just should have forgotten telling him about that part, only talk about the dinner. But then his hatred for Gilbert would be without explanation. Holes would be littered throughout his entire story and with Arthur being a retired(?) police man something like that would not get past his radar easily. He would question him until he got a decent answer out of him and then it would all spill out eventually.

“I learned about it today… trust me I wouldn’t keep a secret like that from you for too long,” he tried in an attempt to lighten the mood. Mr. Kirkland’s eyes didn’t even change in the slightest manner.

“Well what does that all have to do with you walking in the rain all alone? Too scared to even go back to your own house?” he sipped his hot chocolate again before setting the cup down, “So why does it eventually connect?”

“And here I thought you would have good deduction skills…” Alfred grumbled, now burrowed under the blanket, “My dad had invited a friend of his over and it turned out to be the headmaster of the school Matt goes to and his sons. AKA, the rapist included. I had some conflict with him at the very start, and then got in an argument with his father.” Arthur raised an eyebrow at the lump on the couch.

“May I ask who this mystery person’s name is?” he asked, trying to make the request seem innocent. Really he needed to know the information so he could report it to the police immediately. Being a teacher, he was obligated to immediately tell the authorities. But since the students in question were not in his district me just might not have the right to. Only Alfred could really do something about it.

“Gilbert Beilschmidt I think… and his damn father Mr. Beilschmidt…” he grumbled, burying his face into the pillow on the couch, “The only pleasant person in that fucking family is the silent one.”

“Ludwig?” Mr. Kirkland asked, now knowing exactly who the teenager was talking about. “Blue eyes, blonde hair, pale skin..? Ring a bell?” Alfred poked his head out of the blankets, surprised that the teacher could give such an accurate description.

“U-uh yeah totally! And German!” he added and sat up, leaning against the arm of the couch, “How did you know?” Arthur gave a small chuckle, despite the conversation topic.

“You remember Feliciano and Lovino, right?” he asked, crossing his arms. Al gave a shiver at the memory of those horrid driver’s ed classes.

“Oh you mean those psycho Italians who almost killed me five times?” he glared at him slightly before picking up the bowl of spaghetti and trying to eat some of it, “Do you really think I can forget them? But really what connections do Italians have with a bunch of asshat Germans?” It had been a while since he actually went to see them, maybe he needed to drop by sometime with Matthew…

“Well remember how Feliciano said he has a boyfriend?” Arthur ignored the whole comment about the family being asshats, “The name of his boyfriend coming back to you yet?” Alfred blinked a few times, shoveling pasta into his mouth and gulping it down…

(From Chapter 4)

“You-a really like him,” Feli suddenly said, “Don’t you-a? I can see how-a you are trying to deny it but-a it’s there. I saw your-a face flush earlier. And I know-a your heart is pounding. But I must warn-a you about Arthur.” The Italian clasped his hands together and bit his lip. “He can-a be a difficult person to love, especially-a since you are a boy. I-a have a boyfriend myself, a nice-a German name Ludwig. It will be a struggle-a and you might want to just-a give up on a relationship with-a that person entirely. Don’t give up on Arthur-a. He needs love in his life-a more than you know. But don’t-a rush into anything. I’m guessing-a you don’t know each other too well yet…”

“…LUDWIG!” Al sat straight up, “You’ve got to be kidding me! Does everyone know each other here or what?!”

“It’s a small place you get used to it,” the teacher said dryly, “Now please continue your story about how all of this went to you being a damn idiot and getting a horrid cold.”

The American pouted and crossed his arms, upset that he had once again been criticized for his “rash” and “illogical” decisions that were going to be a harm to his now “weakening health” at his “tender young age”. Well at least that’s how Artie had put it in a more “Shakespearian” sort of sense. And if he had done it again the Brit had threatened, and this he quotes, “so help me if you ever decide to do something so stupid like that and it ends up getting you killed I will raise you from the dead, murder you, raise you again, murder you one more time, then raise you back to beat your fucking ass for all of eternity until my hands fall off.” Yeah, such a lovely person he had grown to crush on.

“Well I was all dressed up and planned on being on my best behavior no matter what because that’s like what a good son does and everything. But during dinner… that headmaster decided to start to call me things that insulted my intelligence. And my dad just went along with it, like I was just some dog that hadn’t jumped high enough to reach the Frisbee. So I decided to lose my temper and I… my dad has not always been a very nice person to me or my brother. But he… he treats Mattie better than me… maybe it’s because I’m not good enough for him anymore?” he shrugged, like he would ever get a good answer, “But I said things he didn’t like and he threatened me. Well in the context.” He really didn’t mean to have any sort of conflict with them, maybe he was just made that way.

“Does your father threaten you often?” Arthur asked, now looking even more concerned, “And don’t try to lie to me. I find it quite insulting as well if someone tries to insult my intelligence.” Al sighed and drank some of his hot chocolate, done with his spaghetti.

“…yes but I usually do something to piss him off. Really we’re… I’m fine. Don’t worry about me okay?” The last thing he wanted was the Englishman barging into his house and beating Francis to a bloody pulp, despite how entertaining that just might have been.

Arthur raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms, looking clearly unimpressed. “I just told you NOT to lie to me,” he scoffed at Alfred’s surprised expression, “Oh come on I was a police officer before deciding to become a teacher! Do you really think I haven’t interrogated people before?” He held his fingers up and started counting down the mistakes. “You didn’t look my in the eye, you paused between answers, you added onto your answer too quickly at the beginning, your eyes twitched slightly, and you bit your lip. All signs of lying in adolescents.”

“…ado-huh?”

“Young people,” the Brit clarified, “Anyway I know for a fact now that living there is not safe for you. I mean you did after all come to school with a bruise on your cheek where you apparently, ‘ran into a door’.” Of course Arthur had never thought that had been the case, he just had decided to not question it at the moment due to the still developing trust between them.

The American looked away and sighed. “Okay maybe he does hurt me and Matt sometimes… but still I usually do something to piss him off! So in the end it is my fault after all! HA! TAKE THAT!” He stuck his hand up in the air, smirk evident on his face. Then his head started to pound and he laid back down, remembering he still was sick. Mr. Kirkland gave a sigh and crossed his arms.

“Just because you say you did something to upset him doesn’t mean that gives you a right to say his treatment towards you was acceptable in any way. If he is leaving bruises then it is child abuse!” he leaned back in his seat, “You do realize I have to report this, correct?” Alfred’s eyes widened and he sat straight up.

“No! You can’t do that! They’ll separate me and Mattie again! I can’t go through missing another year of his life!” he curled into a ball, “I missed being with him for five years! Do you hear me? FIVE YEARS!”

“Alfred Jones calm yourself down!” Arthur snapped, standing up, “Don’t you dare even talk to me like that! You are a guest in my house, my student, and I am nursing your health! I expect some damn respect from you whether we’re at school or in public! Now I understand you are worried but you turn eighteen in July, for a few months-”

“I can stand dealing with all of this shit for a few more months!” the teenager screamed, not caring how much it hurt his throat, “You’re an old bastard! You’ll NEVER understand what it’s like! To be separated from someone you love for years and be reunited just to be torn apart again! He’s my BROTHER!”

“AND YOU HAVE TO LET GO!” Artie yelled, slamming his hand down on the coffee table so hard the room seemed to shake, “You want to help your brother, right?! If you do you need to LET GO and tell the authorities instead of sit on your ass all day, waiting for someone else to fix everything for you! This is our world today Mr. Jones, the real situation we are in! You think someone else is just going to solve your problem like that?! NO! You need to step up and do it yourself or else no one else will! Then what do you do?! Wait until your brother is killed?! Once he’s no longer found in any use he could be murdered! NO EVIDENCE! HAVE YOU EVER THOUGHT OF THAT?!”

Alfred sat there, staring up at the teacher with eyes wide. Sure Arthur had yelled at him plenty of times but… this was different. He looked like he was about to start to cry. “M-Mr. Kirkland-”

“Don’t know what you’re going through, huh?! Oh trust me Alfred you are not the only person in this world with fucking problems!!!”

“What is your problem Arthur?!” Al got up and touched the Brit’s shoulder with the blanket wrapped around himself still. “Come on you never act like this! What the fuck is going on with you?!”

“Want to know what’s going on?” Arthur was shaking, “I’m a teacher Alfred. I’m supposed to be the one you look up to, a positive role model in your life. Instead I sat there, waiting for you to open up towards me. I’m so sorry for failing. If… if I don’t fix everything you might fail as well.”

“…Arthur, you’re not a failure,” Alfred rested a hand on his shoulder, “You’re anything BUT a failure! Who would have dealt with my selective learning? Who else would have decided to care about me when no one else did? Who else… who else could earn my trust?”

“But-“

“Arthur Kirkland,” he smiled and took his hand, “You’re the guy who managed to make me realize I’m not an idiot. If that is a failure… well you need a new dictionary.”

To Be Continued… Maybe