Memorable Encounters

Like the vast majority of people, Arthur wasn't fond of hospitals. Despite the necessity for hospitals to be sterile environments, it still seemed as though he was inside a busy hub of bacteria and the thought made his skin crawl. That and hospitals always smelt of stale bread, new plastic and noxious chemicals, not a pleasant combination.

He especially disliked hospitals after being dragged to one by his hard-headed elder brother, who, for the sake of his vanity, had called Arthur to drive him to A&E rather than call an ambulance. Peeved perhaps didn't describe the intensity of emotion Arthur felt towards having to spend his Saturday stagnating in an emergency room with Allistor cradling his, most likely, broken wrist, in throes of melodramatic pain.

Admittedly, Arthur's Saturday hadn't been the most riveting of events but he wasn't about to let on that, before Allistor's call, he'd had been dipping chocolate-coated biscuits into his tea, petting his bad-tempered cat and indulging in a guilty, highly-classified pleasure of his: watching anything featuring Captain America. Arthur was only human and he had an unfortunate and, again, highly-classified weakness for handsome American Alphas.

A preference only his cat was aware of.

It was pure coincidence that the only perk of being stuck inside a hospital was the handsome Alpha sitting across from him. Arthur was certain he was American.

"Oi!"

Arthur grunted at the ache now budding between two of his ribs, courtesy of his brother's elbow.

"Watch it!" Arthur griped. "I'll have bruise after that."

"Stop being a mard arse." The Scotsman nudged Arthur once more, in the exact same spot. Arthur counted to ten in his head. "And stop making eyes at that Alpha, I can see ya."

A waft a protective Alpha scent drifted under Arthur's nose, piquant and unapologetic, and Arthur rolled his eyes at the idiocy of his brother. His brothers treated him, the only Omega in the family, like some sort of rare, hybrid flower in a glass casing.

No Alpha was good enough for little Arthur. Even if 'little' Arthur was twenty-eighty, living in his own apartment and had a steady job as a university lecturer.

Arthur would never admit to feeling a pinch of affection towards his brothers' antics but irritating as they were, their hearts were in the right place.

"I wasn't making eyes at anyone, thank you very much," the Omega said with a sniff of annoyance.

"Isn't he a bit skinny for you, the brunet one? You usually go all mushy over the ones with a bit a muscle." Allistor grinned, all crooked and impish and serving well to piss Arthur off.

Without thinking, Arthur retorted, "Are you sure you didn't knock your head? That Alpha must be about twenty years older than me! I was looking at the blond with the glasses, you stupid sod."

Arthur realised the very moment he'd been ensnared into a trap because Allistor's grin dissolved into a laugh, the laugh of a delighted child who had convinced their younger sibling to swear in front of their parents or something as equally diabolical.

"Yeah, I knew that – just wanted ya to admit to it."

Without a half-decent comeback for Allistor, all Arthur could do was fold his arms over his chest and grumble something scathing under his breath.

"No need to be like that! I'm just looking out for you."

Arthur turned his gaze to the Alpha. He was lovely to look at, and Arthur wasn't complaining about the musculature of his body, but it was the Alpha's eyes that fascinated Arthur – they were gentle, as if the man wasn't capable of hurting a fly. An unusual trait in an Alpha.

There was something slightly off about him, though, his smile was senselessly friendly, enough to be considered drunken, and his head lolled as if it was too heavy for his neck.

Arthur quickly diverted his eyes when he was spotted and the Alpha waved at him.

"Looks pissed out of his skull, if you ask me. I wouldn't get involved with a drunkard if I were you, Art, no matter how nice you think his arse might be."

Arthur was tempted to give Allistor's broken wrist a good squeeze, perhaps even a Chinese burn.

"I wasn't thinking about his – that–!" Arthur snarled. "The nurse just called your name, get a move on."

-/-

Arthur scrunched his nose at the taste of instant tea, and from a paper cup no less. He usually lived by the principle that bad tea was better than no tea at all but perhaps it was time to reassess that, for the sake of not having to drink such an abomination again.

"Are you going to tell me how you actually broke your wrist?" the Omega enquired.

Allistor looked over at him, sheepish.

"I may have been trying to move the telly and I may have dropped it and tried to catch it."

Arthur shook his head, eyeing his brother's swollen, mottled wrist in the temporary sling.

"You'd better not tell dad that! I'll say I was in a fight or something," Allistor tacked on, shuffling around on the papery sheets of the hospital bed. "It must be pretty bad if the bones have to be realigned." There was boyish pride in his voice and his eyes had dilated with wonder (or perhaps it was the effects of the strong painkiller) and Arthur wondered how it was possible that Allistor was a functioning adult, capable of reproducing. Arthur dreaded the day Allistor decided to reproduce.

"Yes, bravo," Arthur said dryly.

He didn't see a new patient enter the ward but an Alpha's scent clouded Arthur's brain and he couldn't stop his body from tensing, whirring with anticipation, much like a cat pricking its ears up. Being in the Alpha ward, Arthur was surrounded by a medley of Alpha scents but this one was different, exciting and tantalising and tangy-sweet on his tongue.

It was the drunkard from the emergency room. A nurse assigned him to the bed beside Allistor's and showed him all the buttons and gadgets to press or pull should there be an emergency.

He looked as dozy and ungainly as before – he all but nose-dived on to the bed and the nurse had to scramble back to flip him over.

"Take a good look, Artie, because that's you after half a pint," Allistor chirped.

Arthur leant out of his chair to pinch Allistor's bad arm, hard, which earned him a high-pitched squawk.

Someone chuckled and it wasn't Arthur.

"I remember you from… before." The mystery Alpha rolled his arms around as if to indicate where 'before' had been.

Arthur's stomach gnarled-up at attractiveness of the stranger. How unjust must the world be, to present Arthur with such a beautiful specimen of an Alpha only to give him an alcohol addiction?

"Yes – I believe we were sat across from each other," Arthur answered, feeling awkward under the force of Allistor's stare.

The stranger was undaunted by Allistor, in fact, he appeared to have not even noticed his presence. The Alpha's eyes roved over Arthur brazenly and his unguarded scent honeyed with arousal. It was only in times of lowered inhibitions or powerful emotion that Alphas relinquished control over their scent and Arthur found he suddenly didn't mind the drunkenness.

"Oh man, you are the prettiest Omega I've ever seen – I just wanna eat you up," the Alpha confessed, slurring.

Arthur should have been offended, he should have balked at the man's audacity but instead it felt rather like a soft breeze carrying the summer sun had danced across every pore of his skin. He definitely didn't almost smile, certainly not.

Allistor's scent sparked with anger.

"Listen here, ya little tosspot!" Allistor lurched himself upright and began moving towards the edge of the bed. "You speak to my little brother like that again and I'll–"

"Allistor!" Arthur hissed, his face burning as they'd acquired the attention of the entire ward. "Be quiet, I can take care of myself, you'll only make things worse."

"But–"

"I didn't mean to upset you!" the Alpha interjected, rubbing the top of his head. "I fell down the stairs and hit my head pretty bad. Think the doctor said I had concussion or something."

Arthur had never been so grateful to discover someone was suffering from severe concussion.

Then he deflated. That explained why the Alpha wanted to eat Arthur up, because he was near brain damaged. Bloody typical.

"I'm Alfred F. Jones," the American continued, his smile bleary and beaming. "I think we should be mates."

"I'm Arthur Kirkland, and I think you should get some rest."

"Will you be my mate when I wake up?"

Arthur sighed as Allistor made a show of muttering threats and clenching his fists. Well, one fist.

"I'm afraid I wouldn't make a very good mate," Arthur informed Alfred. "I'm told I'm quite bossy."

"Nooo, nooooo," Alfred countered with a note of determination. "I love bossy, bossy is hot."

Arthur's blood flared in places that weren't appropriate when in the company of his brother.

"Well, I'm not like an Omega should be."

"I'm uncomfortable," Allistor announced but he was left unnoticed.

"That's fiiiinnnee, I like you the way you are," Alfred explained around a yawn. He lost the battle of keeping his head elevated and his next words were muffled into the pillow. "You're gonna be my mate one day."

Though Arthur felt a touch of heat on the back of his neck, he hummed with amusement.

"I want you to have my babies, Arthur Kirkland." And with that, Alfred was out cold.

-/-

Drowsiness lingered in the hospital, even at ten o'clock in the morning. Most of the staff ambled through the halls with all the appearance of walking death.

Arthur found Allistor sleeping unattractively, his snoring making a sound akin to a rusty tractor engine. He eyed the plaster cast on the redhead's harm, glad that all that was left for Allistor was to recover and hopefully learn his lesson. Though Arthur was sure there wasn't a cure for being a clumsy pillock.

He placed a change of clothes for Allistor on the bedside table as well as some sugary treats, store-bought by request.

His eyes strayed to Alfred's bed. It was empty and unmade. Arthur didn't know if that meant Alfred was still around or not.

"It's Arthur, right?"

Arthur started, having been caught looking for clues to discern Alfred's whereabouts, and caught himself before he made a strange squeaking sound. He needn't look any further for Alfred as the man was standing behind Arthur in a hospital gown and cotton robe. His scent glinted with self-consciousness.

He was tall, wonderfully tall, with broad shoulders and toned legs.

"Right." Arthur wasn't sure what else to say.

"I– uh, I'm really sorry about yesterday and if I made you uncomfortable or anything. To be honest, I don't remember anything but your brother told me about it this morning." Alfred darted his eyes over to the Alpha in question. "Looks like he's gone back to sleep."

"There's no need to apologise – you were concussed, it's hardly your fault, is it now?"

"I did fall down the stairs, that was kinda my fault," Alfred said, a grin forming on his lips.

"Perhaps be more careful in the future. Alphas seem to get themselves hospitalised for the stupidest of reasons." Arthur glanced pointedly at his brother. "Do you… do you not remember anything at all?"

"Not really. I remember falling down the stairs but I don't remember getting to the hospital. I must have driven here; my brother was pretty pissed about that. I don't remember talking to you but now that I've seen you, I understand why I was hitting on you so much." Alfred paused and covered his eyes with one of his hands. "Aaaand I just made it awkward again. Shit, I'm sor–"

"It's alright," Arthur said.

He took a deep breath and drove on headfirst, praying that Alfred's flattery wasn't only a product of his apology.

"Having your children sounds a little hasty, perhaps a date would be a better starting point?"

Alfred's body visibly sagged with relief. "I can't believe I actually said that. Yeah, let's leave children until… later… not that I mean– oh my god. Can I still blame the concussion for this? My brain doesn't work around you." He laughed, endearing and embarrassed. "A date sounds awesome, more than awesome. Can I get your number?"

Arthur reached for his phone as Alfred walked over to his bedside to root around in his jeans pocket for his phone. Arthur's mind was alight with giddiness and he had to stop himself from beaming – that would be unseemly after all.

"The father of your future children is bloody idiot," Allistor grumbled, apparently having feigned sleep to eavesdrop on the conversation.

Even so, Arthur couldn't help but agree with him.

Prompt: Going to A&E and Waking up with Amnesia