It took infinitely too long for the two of them to actually get to the base, and longer still to actually get into the base. Despite the fact that they should have been the first two people in a place with military protection, the guards seemed very wary of them. Not terribly wrongly as it was war, and they had just narrowly escaped death by blitzkrieg raid, however, it was very inconvenient to remain half hanging off another man while waiting outside of a protective bunker. Not to mention the humiliation associated with not being able to stand on his own in front of his citizens.

By the time they were accepted into the base the entire feel of the place had shifted noticeably. Taking in the fact that the two men standing in front of them were, in fact, quite important people, had stunted the mood, shifting the atmosphere to something a bit looser yet more stale. Granted, they didn't disclose select information about themselves and their positions.

Two men shuffled around in front of them before taking off in the direction of a narrow hallway. To be honest, all of the hallways down in the bunker were fairly narrow, and filled with heavy air. The distinct musty smell of something that had been closed off was clearly prominent throughout the space, but anything was welcome next to the carnage above ground.

They moved through a labyrinth of hallways, some filled with civilians, others void of anything but concrete. One of the men branched off ahead of them, leaving the two with a single guide who seemed quite uncomfortable escorting them. They didn't talk, and they hardly even looked around, maintaining an air of practiced military professionalism.

Arthur shifted a bit, trying to take some of his own weight back. Alfred allowed him some leeway, loosening his grip enough for Arthur to plant each foot firmly with each step. Yes, it hurt, but his muscles were getting sore from tight grip and pulling strains. The area where the larger blondes hand had been gripping was sore, uncomfortable as Alfred's hand slid over the spot unevenly with each step.

If he had the strength to push the boy away he would. It was starting to get a little claustrophobic for him, ironic due to their whereabouts. He could really only take so much physical contact before he felt smothered. It's not that he didn't appreciate the help, exactly. More that, despite the fact that he was not in the best shape, he had never been all too keen on the prospects of physical contact. Or rather, this much physical contact.

Most likely because of his "upbringing" he was getting the itch to push the blond away, and walk skimmed up against the wall, or perhaps, bulleting forward behind the young soldier to get to the room as quickly as possible. But no, not only was he incapable of actually taking all of his own weight, the labyrinth of tunnels also made what should have been a short walk to a room of officials, the most painstaking journey imaginable. And he was generally quite a patient individual.

He sealed his lips shut as they finally approached a large metal door, reinforced steel by the looks of it. The soldier shifted on his feet, like he wasn't quite sure what to do now that they had finally arrived. However, Alfred, ever the hero, stepped up and knocked loudly on the thick surface. He looked up, willing the soldier to make eye contact with him so that he would have to test his voice quite yet.

Shaky brown connected with his own green, and he could tell that the poor lad was fighting to keep steady in front of him. He gave his head a short flick to the side, letting the boy know that they could take care of themselves now, and that he could return to his station. He doesn't think that he's ever seen a soldier walk quite that gracefully and purposefully, quite that fast. Though, he was fairly proud. The boy's training really showed, despite the fact that he looked about ready to soil himself. Probably still a bit green, he figured. So, that was impressive.

He would allow himself a bit of narcissism. Not that it would really matter at this time, it would most likely be the highlight of his week, probably even his month...just appreciating the training of his soldiers. Nothing wrong with a bit of admiration. Speaking of, that door is really quite nice. That door that should really be opening because he can't stay standing on his own for much longer, and get back here Alfred damnit!

His knees were beginning to shake once again, lending him an uneven stance. The world tilting slightly with his struggle to keep from falling. A struggle that led to the unfortunate locking of his knees, making the blood flow stunt and his vision start to blur. And damn it, because now he had to represent himself in a professional and clean cut way, and here he was about to pass out because he couldn't keep his knees from locking.

He had to hold his tongue when the door swung open, a rush of relief shooting through his system. He wasted absolutely no time in squeezing into the room, trained eyes easily seeking out the most sturdy surface to support himself with. Though resting on the cool metal cabinetry was not ideal, it was certainly far more ideal than blacking out, regardless of the lack of people to witness.

He noted that, yes, Alfred had already seen him at his very weakest, more than he would have ever liked for anyone to have ever seen him, but he did have some levels of self worth. Self worth, pride, bravery, he'd like to think of the traits as positive synonyms. And he needed some positive synonyms, especially with the skeptical eyes trained on him now.

"Arthur Kirkland I presume?"

He straightened his back, letting out a pained puff of air, too low to be noticeable. "You presume correctly."

"It's an honour to meet you sir, why don't you take a seat."

"I'm fine thank you."

"Really, I must insist."

Sorry for the long wait on this chapter, but here it is.

Hope you enjoy!

~Castor