Arthur stared at the parcel addressed to him. It was square, roughly the size of a shoebox, with no return address.

"Who are you from?" He wondered aloud as he sat in the grass, tearing the brown paper from the box. When he opened it, tears filled his green eyes as he saw the picture on the top.

Four people waved at Arthur from the small house he had lived in when he was in the States still. Matthew, with his wheat-blond hair and lilac eyes, arms around Gilbert, the white haired albino. Francis, dominating the middle of the photo, the blond in mid-pelvic-thrust, blue eyes sparkling seductively. Arthur missed even him. And then there was the other blond, grinning with his hands in a heart, blue eyes wide. Alfred looked so great. Arthur traced his figure, finger lingering near his face. Oh, he missed that boy so much.

There were letters underneath the picture, the first from Matthew. Arthur tore the envelope open, eager to read.

"Dear Arthur," it read, "I miss you so much. You don't know how much we miss you. Things are so chaotic without you to keep us all together, but we're trying. I hope things are going well. All Our Love, Matthew."

Arthur blinked his tears away as he pulled out a picture from the envelope. Matthew smiled at him, alone, in the backyard, sitting on the tire swing.

Next was a letter from Gilbert. "Dear Old Man, we miss you! Not me, cause that's not awesome. But I guess I wish you were back so you could clean my room again. Stay alive, so you can come back! From the Awesome Me, Gilbert!"

Arthur found a picture of Gilbert flipping him the bird, though he was grinning. It was Gilbert's way of saying 'I love you.'

Francis' letter was next. The basic message was 'come back so I can totally take you to bed,' though Arthur saw the hidden 'I miss you too' inside. His picture, as he figured, was a shirtless picture of the Frenchman.

That was all the letters. All that was left was pictures. Arthur didn't want to admit it, but he was heartbroken; Alfred didn't leave anything. He pulled out the pictures, going through them one by one. It wasn't until he was halfway through that he realized the three pictures that were of only Alfred had stuff written on the back. He noticed they were also numbered in the top 1-3, and Arthur looked at the first.

"Dear Artie," it read, "I bet it took you quite a bit to realize that my letter was on the back of my pictures. I know you'd find this stupid, but paper can be thrown away, forgotten. Pictures last longer. I wanted you to carry part of me with you forever, y'know? It'll make more sense on the next picture, but how are you? I hope things are going well. We miss you, old man. We really do, even if we won't admit it."

Arthur flipped the picture over, and saw Alfred winking at him from a beach, shirtless. His American flag swim trunks stood out, and Arthur couldn't help but laugh.

"Hey again," the next one began, "I guess I should explain myself better. I love you. There, I said it. I just wish it didn't take until your life was in danger to figure it out. You always took such amazing care of me, even when we were kids. I bet you don't remember the rainbow incident, do you? Where I told you that blue and green were right beside each other, and that we were meant to be? You ran away from me, but you were blushing. Did you love me then, Iggy?"

Arthur smiled a tiny bit at this memory. "Yes." He whispered, wishing Alfred could hear him across the ocean. That picture was of Alfred holding up a picture of a rainbow he drew, one hand over his heart.

"I love you," the last one read, "I just hope you feel the same. We miss you though. I miss you. You always had a way of making me feel better when I was upset, and you're the only one who'll sit with me through a horror movie. Come back soon so I can watch them again, okay? Don't die, love. I love you, so so much, Alfred."

Arthur smiled through the tears, running a hand through his blond hair. "I love you too Alfred."

This picture was one of Alfred holding up a unicorn plushie that he had won for Arthur at a fair once.

Arthur picked up his gun and the box, and retreated back to camp to put his keepsakes away, before sticking the pictures from Alfred, and the group photo in his uniform pocket. He needed to get home soon.

The airport was crowded, filled with Marines coming home finally. Arthur looked around, searching for any blond heads, anyone who looked like his Alfred.

"IGGY!" Alfred's voice suddenly reached Arthur's ear, and strong arms were picking him up, spinning him around.

"C-can't breathe... Al-Alfred..." Arthur gasped, and Alfred dropped him, turning him so he faced the cerulean-eyed blond.

"Did you get my letters?" Alfred asked, worry in his eyes.

Arthur didn't reply; instead, he looked up at Alfred, and pushed his lips against the taller blond. Alfred responded positively, wrapping his arms around Arthur's waist.

"I take that as a yes?" Alfred chuckled when they pulled away.

"No, you git." Arthur replied, but he was grinning from ear to ear. "I love you too."

The two walked hand in hand—the surviver of war and the one who helped him through it—out the doors and into the rest of their lives together.

Because now, not even war could keep then apart.