"His name is what?" Arthur asked his father once more. He felt as though the floor opened up below him, leaving him to fall into an endless nothing.

"His name was 'Jones', not 'James'. Alfred F. Jones to be precise. What a tragedy." The elder Kirkland resumed reading his newspaper, unaware of his son's panic.

Slowly, Arthur made his way into the bathroom. Locking the door and turning on the faucet of the tub, he let the charade of an uncaring man drip away. The facade of a cold, ruthless person melted under the warmth of his tears.

Alfred, dear sweet Alfred. He would have been happy, they could have been happy.

Arthur had wanted nothing more than to float away together, but he told himself he had duties. He had responsibilities. He had a marriage to fulfill. Yet he managed to mess it up anyway.

The arranged marriage was meant to make everything less complicated…heck even the fling was supposed to make things less complicated. But that's just not how life wanted it to be.

Nothing was ever the way it was supposed to be.

And Alfred, he never intended him to be a pawn. Arthur just couldn't stay away from the undying light Alfred seemed to be. Undying. Funny.

Alfred was always alight with an energy he could never describe. It was too soft to be fire and too warm to be electricity. He was just, light. If Arthur could just see those blue eyes again.

The splashes from the tub drew his attention.

He wished he could dump his memories out like buckets of water. In a moment of childish foolishness, Arthur dipped his head below the surface wanting to quiet his thoughts. Whether it was an illusion of his mind or the pipes, he could have sworn he heard Alfred calling. Against his better judgment, Arthur climbed into the waters. He sunk deep, deeper than a bathtub should be. His lungs were in pain, but they were competing against the endlessness of his heartache. After a while, he felt nothing.

Arthur drifted. Alone. He drifted until he thought he saw the sky. But it wasn't the sky really, it was Alfred's eyes. He smiled, and for a moment so did Alfred. Finally, a place to float. Hand-in-hand they drifted at the bottom of a lifeless sea.