USUK-Something there

The alarm clock began to blare, breaking the silence of the morning. Arthur sat up, stretched, and slowly slid out of bed. Next to where he had previously been laying, Alfred rolled over and slammed down the off button.

"You'll break the thing if you keep hitting it like that." Arthur scolded, knowing full well Alfred wouldn't acknowledge him. The American never was a good listener in the morning. After a full five minutes, Alfred finally rolled out of bed. Once on his feet, he stumbled towards the bathroom, giving his lover nothing more than a grunt that sounded something like 'good morning.' Sighing, Arthur picked up his suit from where it had been thrown carelessly the night before in favor of a set of nightclothes. He changed back into the suit, leaving the tie undone and jacket off. By the time he had joined Alfred in the bathroom, the man had already showered, put on his clothes for the day, and was busy brushing his teeth. Arthur stood beside him, tying his tie and fixing the creases in his clothing while Alfred went about his other morning rituals. After a few minutes, the two made their way back to the bedroom. Alfred reached for his bombers jacket, pausing to look at the calendar on the wall near the chair the jacket was draped over.

"It's been a year already Artie." Alfred sighed, grabbing the jacket and throwing it on.

"You've adjusted well. You were a complete mess at the beginning." Arthur gave Alfred a small smile, following the other man out of the room.

"I think I'm gonna go get some coffee. I'll get you something too." Before Arthur could even begin to protest, Alfred continued. "Don't worry; I'll get you your tea."

Arthur gave a hum of approval and followed Alfred out of the apartment they shared. A ten minute walk later, the two stood in line at a local coffee shop which, thankfully, didn't just serve coffee. Finally, the pair reached the front of the line. Alfred put in their orders, earning a raised eyebrow from the girl behind the register. Once their drinks were ready, Alfred made his way to the table farthest from the door and closest to a window. He put down the tea in front of Arthur and almost immediately pulled out his cell phone.

"Sorry Arthur, Mattie demands a text from me every hour I'm awake now. I swear it's like he thinks I'm gonna do something stupid again. I think all Canadians are just crazy." Alfred sighed, taking a sip of his coffee once he was done talking.

"He's your brother; he's supposed to worry about you, especially after your depressed phase. You had everyone worried." Arthur scolded, frowning slightly. Alfred puffed out his cheeks and took another sip of his drink.

"Anyway, lighter topic. I don't have anything to do today so I was thinking we could walk around for a while. I mean, there isn't much to see, but it's a nice day out." Alfred shrugged.

"That sounds fine," Arthur answered, sending Alfred a small smile. The two sat for a while longer, just talking. They would get an occasional odd stare from a person passing by their table but for the most part, the duo ignored the stares. Eventually Alfred stood, shortly followed by Arthur, and walked out of the café, Arthur's tea still sitting untouched on the table. As promised, Alfred walked around the small town with Arthur, pointing out the buildings he recognized or found interesting. Arthur simply smiled, walking alongside Alfred. After nearly a half hour of walking, Alfred in front of a rather elaborate bank, though it wasn't the building he was looking at. Instead, he was staring into the road, watching the passing cars. Almost as soon as they stopped, Alfred's smile fell.

"This is where it happened, you know." Alfred practically whispered, the cloud of happiness that had been surrounding him moments ago dissolving, "I was there. I should've been able to stop it."

"Alfred, stop. It wasn't your fault, just a stupid man making a stupid choice. There was nothing you could've done. Stop blaming yourself for it." Arthur resisted every urge to smack Alfred on the back of his head.

"You know, you could scold people professionally. Maybe you could be a teacher or something." Alfred laughed half-heartedly before looking up, a sad grin on his face again. "Well, I'll beat you to saying that I shouldn't just stand here thinking about the past. I did say we were gonna walk around, right? Just give me a second." Arthur huffed and followed Alfred's gaze out into the traffic. Before long, he had begun to think of that night as well, though his memories of it were very different than those of Alfred's. Arthur was almost surprised when Alfred began to walk away from him. Arthur had to run to catch up with him, greeting Alfred with a short rant.

"So I was thinking I could go see how your place is holding up. It's been a while since I've been there." Alfred said, smiling and turning his face upwards. Arthur nodded and followed Alfred. He'd been away for a while as well so he could use this as a reason to make sure no one had ruined his perfectly good 'home.' Sure there were a few flaws but he couldn't really do anything about them. It wasn't long before the two reached their destination. Arthur slowed his pace so he was walking behind Alfred rather than beside him. The American didn't seem to notice though. Instead, he continued walking until he reached one place in particular. A sad smile formed on his face as Alfred walked towards the grave.

"Hey Artie," He greeted, kneeling in front of the headstone as he did so. "Been a while, huh?" For a minute or so, Alfred just sat there, staring at the concrete slab in front of him.

"Oh yeah, I almost forgot. I found these at a little stand while I was walking around the town. They're no scones but I hope you'll like them." Alfred smiled and put the bouquet of flowers he'd been carrying in the small vase in front of the gravestone.

"It's been a year since, well, you know. Seems like longer, if you get what I'm saying. Oh, and I thought I'd let you know they arrested the guy who did this the other day. I think he was holding up a gas station or something. He only got a few months though and I don't really have proof of anything that could put him in for longer. But hey, I guess a little is better than none, right?"

Another long silence passed and Arthur contemplated sitting next to Alfred, comforting him as much as he could. He decided against it, knowing that it would all be in vain. Alfred couldn't see him, let alone feel him.

"Mattie's been going crazy. After I found out you...Well, you know the story enough. He's been making me talk to him once an hour now. Apparently he's completely convinced I'm going to try to kill myself again. Even if I did, I'd probably get to the afterlife, see you, and get zapped back here by some weird spell of yours. You'd probably lecture me first." Alfred let out a small chuckle. After that, the American was silent, running his hands over the name carved into the stone. Arthur wasn't sure how much time had passed but by the time Alfred stood up, the sun was beginning to go down and he had to respond to the frantic texts from his brother at least three times, apologizing to Arthur each time.

"I guess I should get back soon. Mattie said he's gonna be coming over later and I really don't want to know what will happen if I don't show up." Alfred gave a weak laugh, picking at the leaves on one of the flowers at the foot of the grave. Finally he stood but made no move to leave.

"You know, ever since then, I could never shake off the feeling something was there watching over me. Maybe ghosts do exist after all, Artie."

And as he turned to leave, Alfred could've sworn he felt a warm pair of arms wrap around his waist and a soft kiss pressed to his cheek.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ONE YEAR AGO*~~**~*~**~*~*~*~~*~*~

"Come on Artie, we're gonna be late!" Alfred shouted, pulling Arthur behind him by the hand. Alfred had planned this over a month ago and so help him if they missed it, he would probably murder someone. It was he and Arthur's one-year anniversary as a couple and he was going to make the night absolutely perfect.

"I don't even know where we're going!" Arthur shot back, glaring at the back of the American's head.

"It's a surprise," Alfred winked over his shoulder at Arthur, ignoring the insults his boyfriend was sending him. He was actually taking Arthur out to see a play the man had wanted to see as long as Alfred had known him and, if Arthur managed to keep up with him, they would probably get there a few minutes before it started. A minute or so later, the two were five blocks away from the theater and were crossing the road. Arthur had let go of Alfred's hand a little while ago so it was no surprise that he was falling behind. The light had just turned red though so even though he was completely out of breath, he would be able to catch up with Alfred who was already on the other side of the road, looking rather impatient. Arthur sighed and picked up his pace a little, cringing at the sound of blaring rap music coming from the street. Honestly, why did people have to play their music so-

That was as far as Arthur's thoughts got when the car hit him. The car stopped for only a second before speeding away. A few minutes later, Arthur was being rushed off to a hospital in an ambulance, Alfred beside him, clutching his hand in a grip that would've been painful had he been able to feel it. Once they arrived at the hospital Arthur was rushed into the ER while Alfred was forced to wait outside. Thirty minutes passed before a doctor came over to Alfred, a grim look on his face.

Two weeks later, Alfred watched as the coffin was lowered into the ground.

A day after the funeral, Matthew found his brother with a gun pressed against his head.

One year later, Alfred walked away from Arthur's grave.

"How can I be the hero if I couldn't save you?"

AN: SO this is an angsty little fic based on a comic by the same title by burntnoodles on DeviantArt. Look it up. Da. So, I don't really like this...but at the same time...and for everyone waiting for In Love With Cupid, it's coming. I've just been really busy recently (I just moved...and went to Animazement) and have NO inspiration whatsoever for the story. I'm dying D:

Why do I always kill England in everything I write? Seriously.