Happy New Years!

• all requests are closed now! I will finish up the ones I have left, sorry for the delay, I have not forgotten about you! I hope you guys enjoyed this year as much as I did~•

•

Arthur huffed and changed his outfit for the third time in the last fifteen minutes. Alfred sat still naked on their bed, his hair wild and glasses askew.

"Why didn't you like that one?" Alfred asked, watching Arthur go through their closet in his boxer-briefs.

"It made me look pregnant." Arthur said, glaring at his wardrobe.

"That's weird since you're a dude." Alfred said.

"Will you shut up? This is very important and you're not even showered!" Arthur turned around and placed his hands on his hips.

"I showered yesterday." Alfred mumbled.

"That was yesterday. What about today? Honestly, you filthy American." Arthur snapped, turning back to his closet.

"You liked being filthy last night." Alfred sing-songed.

Arthur felt a blush creep up his cheeks as he glanced down at his slightly red and bruised wrists. "Exactly why you should shower." he said, keeping his back firmly to Alfred.

"It's only five, we have plenty of time." The sunny blond laughed, but got out of bed nonetheless.

And Arthur certainly did not look over his shoulder at Alfred's butt. With a smile, Arthur moved his clothes around once again.

He wasn't sure why he could never find the perfect outfit. Some days he felt like he was trying to impress Alfred, but no matter what Arthur wore, Alfred adored him. It made Arthur melt and frustrated at the same time. Shouldn't Alfred want to keep Arthur covered up to keep prying eyes away? Or even have Arthur wear tighter clothes to show him off? Arthur sighed, throughly confused on how to please Alfred with his outfit tonight.

Alfred emerged from his shower to find Arthur still messing with his clothes. Alfred rolled his eyes. Arthur could be so picky. "Just hurry up and choose something so we can match." Alfred put air quotes around his last word.

Arthur had glanced over his shoulder in hopes of catching Alfred drying off, instead he got an insult right across his face! He turned and cocked a hip. "Excuse you?"

"Well, anything I wear will clash with what you wear so will you please choose a damn outfit? It's cold." Alfred said and sat on the bed.

Anger pounded blood into Arthur's ears. "You know what, you can wear whatever you like! Everyone already knows us as Arthur and the American pig!"

Alfred narrowed his eyes as he placed his glasses back on his nose. "'Arthur and the American pig'? More like Alfred and the English snob!" he snapped, standing.

Arthur felt the threat of tears sting his eyes and he moved closer the Alfred. "You think you are this great and amazing hero, but you can't even make your father proud!"

Alfred immediately crumpled. Arthur saw the hurt in his eyes and felt his heart clench. He did not just say that.

Turning his back to Arthur, Alfred yanked on a pair of jeans and socks. Shoulder-checking Arthur on his way to the closet, Alfred slipped on a hoodie.

"Alfred-"

Alfred picked up his wallet then left the room. The door slammed behind him.

Arthur winced and fell on the bed, staring at his ring. How could he have done that to Alfred? He used the only thing he knew that would make Alfred the angriest and felt like he just stabbed Alfred. Which he probably did with his words. Bringing his knees to his chest, Arthur cried for Alfred.

•

Alfred didn't know where he was going or if he was going back. He just drove. He drove much too fast for a very cold afternoon.

He gripped the wheel tightly. He had never been so angry with Arthur. It made his heart ache, but not as much as Arthur's words.

Alfred grit his teeth as he took a sharp turn. He had somehow found himself going to the old house he grew up in with his father. He knew a family lived there now, but that didn't halt his drive through the canyon and into the valley.

He took another turn far, far too fast and found the wheel snapping from his hands.

•

Arthur got ready and stood outside, waiting for Alfred to come and pick him up. Arthur clutched a cup of coffee from Alfred's favorite cafe. He looked up and down the street every thirty seconds, his heart breaking each time a car passed that wasn't Alfred's.

Finally, Arthur pulled out his phone and called Alfred. It seemed to ring forever, until Alfred's voice came on the phone.

"Hi! It's Alfred, I'm busy at the moment with my lover-" Arthur could hear himself yelling in the background. "So leave me a message and I'll get back to ya! Coming, Artie!"

Arthur felt tears sting his eyes. "A-Alfred. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Just... just, come home, okay? I'm sorry." Arthur hung up and shoved his hand back in his pockets. He felt his tears cling to his eyelashes, quickly turning cold.

•

Arthur waited outside for another thirty minutes before retreating back inside. He scooped up Rapunzel and heard Flynn follow them to his room.

"He's going to come back." Arthur muttered as he paced around the bed. He held Rapunzel tightly, making her mewl. He quickly set her down and occupied his hands with his necklace that contained Alfred's rockstar tabs.

Arthur swallowed harshly and tried calling Alfred again, he sank on to the bed at Alfred's voice mail. "...I'll get right back to ya! Coming, artie!"

"Alfred. This is getting ridiculous. Come home. Please. I-I'm worried." Arthur hung up again and resumed his pacing.

Arthur glanced at his clock. It was nine. Surely four hours was long enough to call the police. Or at least his mother.

With a deep breath, Arthur called Abigail.

"Arthur? Honey?" Abigail answered. Arthur winced at how alike she and Alfred sounded.

"H-hey." Arthur choked out, stopping in the middle of the floor. "Is Alfred there?"

"No. He isn't, he said you two had something planned. Did something happen?" Abigail asked, her voice rising in pitch due to worry.

Arthur closed his eyes tightly. "We had a fight. He left a few hours ago and hasn't come home. Do you know where he could have gone? He won't answer his phone." Suddenly, the room was suffocating.

"No. Other than here and the old house-"

"Old house?" Arthur asked, leaving the room and grabbing his jacket.

"Yeah. Where we lived before Andrew died." Abigail said.

"What's the address?" Arthur all but shouted as he yanked on his jacket and snatched his keys.

"U-uhm." Abigail told Arthur the address and Arthur wrote it down quickly before hanging up with the promise to call her if anything happened.

Arthur all but ran down the steps to his Mini Cooper, his frantic breath coming out in puffs. Once he was inside, he punched the address into his phone. With baited breath, he began to drive.

•

It took half an hour to find the tracks in the snow. He pulled over and followed the tire tracks down the hill. Snow filled his shoes and his pants, but that green nova looked eerily familiar.

"Alfred!" he shouted, banging on the sideways car. "Alfred!" He crouched in front of the windshield and found Alfred.

The sunny blond luckily landed on the upside, though his head slouched against his shoulder and frozen blood coated half his face. The airbag cut off the rest of Arthur's view of him.

"Alfred!" Arthur screamed. He hit his hands against the cracked windshield. "Wake up! Alfred!" Arthur sat down in the snow and used both of his feet to finish breaking open the window.

Once the window fell to the ground, Arthur crawled in the passenger side. With the setting sun behind him, Arthur could see that Alfred's hoodie sleeves were shredded, showing more frozen blood. "Alfred... Shit. Oh, Alfred." Arthur mumbled as he struggled with Alfred's seatbelt.

With the American no longer strapped in, he sagged heavily against Arthur, forcing the Brit to sit in the pile of broken glass, Alfred cushioned against his chest.

It all felt like it was going on slow motion. The way Alfred slipped from the bucket seat and into Arthur. The way Arthur fell to the ground to hold Alfred against him. Arthur felt like he was in a dream. A horrible, horrible dream. He clutched Alfred tightly, and searched for his breath. Arthur let out a sigh when Alfred's warm breath hit his fingers.

To Arthur's horror, Alfred began bleeding from his head. A gash right above his left ear. Arthur pressed his hand tightly against the wound as he pulled Alfred close to him. "Fucking shit, Alfred." Arthur whispered, tears threatening to spill now that he was holding his american.

With his other hand, he dug out his phone from his pocket and dialed 911.

"Hello-"

"Please!" Arthur broke then, realizing saying what had happened, will make it true. "M-my-" Alfred choked. "My husband. He's been in a crash."

"Alright, are you with him now?" The woman on the line said.

"Yes. H-he's breathing. B-but there's so m-much blood." Arthur sobbed. He then realized he was shaking harshly, hardly holding his hand to Alfred's injury.

"Okay. I have tracked your location and someone is coming to help."

"Please. Hurry." Arthur bent over Alfred. He must be so cold, Arthur thought.

"Stay on the line. What's your name?" The woman kept talking.

"A-Arthur." The blond hiccuped.

"Okay Arthur. Is your husband bleeding anywhere that you can see?"

"His head. A-and he has some blood on his arms. I c-can't see anything else." Arthur tried to find anymore bleeding wounds, but the sun had sunk behind the mountains and trees.

"Do you have pressure against his head?" The woman asked, way too calm for Arthur's liking.

"Y-yes." Arthur breathed.

"Good. Do you hear any of the sirens?"

"N-no. We're in the canyon."

"Alright, honey. They should be there in about fifteen more minutes."

Arthur sagged against the door frame. "Isn't there anyone else? Please! I-I can't let him die! Please!" He was hyperventilating, but he didn't care. Alfred was bleeding, from his head! He couldn't wait that long.

"We are doing everything we can." The woman said, obviously trying to relax Arthur. It wasn't working.

"Try harder!" Arthur snapped, dropping his head beside Alfred's. "Please. He has a mum and a little sister that adore him. A-and his brother too. And Flynn and Rapunzel, they follow him a-around like he's their mom." Arthur knew he was babbling, but Alfred was just so precious to him. He couldn't lose him.

"Hey..."

Arthur shook and sobbed against Alfred's still form. He brought his knees around Alfred's torso, trying to fight off the cold and wind.

"Hey.."

"And I'm such a p-pain but he deals w-with me anyway and I don't know why! He's p-perfect, so beautiful and amazing and... if he dies..." Arthur buried his face in Alfred's hair, letting his cries take over, not caring anymore.

"Artie."

Arthur dropped the phone in the snow. He wrapped his now free arm around Arthur's shoulders, brushing off any glass he found.

"Artie." A cold hand covered Arthur's, making the Brit jump.

"Alfred?" Arthur pulled away from the sunny blond just long enough to see a smile on his handsome and bloody face. It was obviously painful, but it was not fake.

"You're such a sap."

"Shut up, you bloody Git!" Arthur shouted, wiping his eyes, however he was only effective in smearing Alfred's blood over his pale cheeks.

"Hear that?" Alfred mumbled. His eyes were closed, almost as if he were relaxed.

Arthur froze. "Sirens." he breathed, clutching Alfred tighter. "Sirens!"

A few minutes later, a paramedic was at the windshield. He waved his hand to another and soon they were pulling Alfred away from Arthur and onto an orange gurney. Arthur crawled out, his eyes fixed on Alfred. The American had swam back into unconsciousness.

•

"I'll watch the night turn light blue, but it's not the same without you, because it takes two to whisper quietly."

Alfred smiled as the melody hit his ears. That song had always reminded him of Arthur.

"Alfred?" Someone whispered at his side.

He wanted to see who is trying to talk to him, but Alfred is so warm and sleepy.

"I'm sorry, Alfred." The whisper came again.

Figuring the whispering won't go away, Alfred cracked his eyes open and found a blob of green and gold hovering in front of him. "Hm?"

"Oh, Alfred." Fingers brush his face and he winced.

"Arthur. Stop." Alfred mumbled. "It hurts." Not to mention he was still angry with the blond.

"Okay." Arthur retreated from Alfred's line of sight.

Alfred rubbed his eyes, flinching at the pain in his shoulder. "Glasses?" he asked.

"They're... uhm. They broke." Arthur mumbled, sitting on his hands.

Arthur could hardly look at Alfred. The bandage around his head was turning pink. He had luckily suffered no internal bleeding, but he had lost quite a lot of blood due to his head. And it was all Arthur's fault.

Alfred sighed.

"I, uh, I kept them. I used tape to fix the frame. One of the lenses is broken, though." Arthur mumbled, reaching into his coat pocket and retrieving the glasses.

Alfred held his hand out. "Being able to see somewhat is better than not at all."

Arthur pressed the broken glasses into Alfred's hand. Alfred slipped them on and blinked a few times. Arthur smiled when Alfred looked at him. However, Alfred didn't smile back so Arthur looked at his shoes.

"What's the damage?" Alfred asked, feeling across his chest and wincing.

"Head injury is the worst. A pretty deep gash on your shoulder. Severe bruising on your chest. Some cuts on your face."

"Oh."

They sat in silence. Suddenly, Alfred heard chanting.

"Ten!"

"Alfred, I'm so sorry." Arthur blurted out, standing and grabbing Alfred's hand. "Those terrible things I said-"

"Nine!"

"I didn't mean them!" Arthur touched Alfred's cheek before he cupped his jaw. "If I could take them back, I would."

"Eight!"

"Arthur." Alfred said softly, his hand covered Arthur's. "Why would you hurt me like that?"

"Seven!"

Arthur shook his head. "I was upset and I'm so stupid and, Alfred I'm so sorry!" He interlocked his fingers with Alfred's and squeezed.

"Six!" The chanting continued from just beyond their door.

Alfred closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. "Arthur-"

"Please." Arthur whispered, pressing his face into Alfred's neck.

"Five!"

"Let's not start the year like this." Alfred whispered into Arthur's hair, his free hand caressing his back.

"Four!"

Arthur lifted his head, his eyes swimming. "Really?" he whispered.

"Really." Alfred smiled, spreading a cut on his cheek.

"Three!"

"Oh, Alfred." Arthur breathed, the tension leaving his shoulders. "I love you. So, so much."

"Two!"

"I love you more." Alfred grinned and pulled Arthur into his lap.

"You're hurt!" Arthur protested, his knees on either side of Alfred's hips.

"Shush." Alfred whispered.

"One! Happy new year!"

Arthur pressed his lips against Alfred's. Alfred ran his hands up Arthur's back and into his hair.

The fireworks cast their molded shadow on the wooden floor.

•

Author's note: Boom.