We'll Meet Again Chapter 10, a hetalia - axis powers fanfic | FanFiction
'Why don't you think it all over, and we'll meet again tomorrow morning. He was very handsome and very cool, and he somehow made it sound as though she couldn't planes, and he was supposedly ruthless in his business dealings, she had read somewhere. She had seen a photograph of him with some movie stars. So smile for me one last time and believe that we'll meet again. .. Famous Movie Quotes, Best Quotes, Life Quotes, Favorite Quotes, On My Own .. "I am homesick for a place I am not sure even exists. .. I don't know why I told you I was good at letting go, for all I do now's watch dead flowers, & pray somehow they'll grow. Misc · Plays · Movies · TV; Crossovers; Anime · Books · Cartoons · Comics · Games · Misc · Plays · Movies · TV "Lieutenant, calm down or we will have to inject you again! "He's not going anywhere," growled Alfred fiercely. pointing out that he had somehow calmed Alfred down, and no one wanted to.
The military men at the door kept throwing him dirty looks and muttering under their breath. The nurse placed some vials and packages on the bedside table, scribbled a few things on a clipboard beside the bed, then reached down and took Alfred's hand. Arthur watched as she gently turned it around and felt his wrist for a pulse.
His stomach fell, once again, when he looked at Alfred's butchered hand. The nurse glanced up and smiled kindly. They seemed to think he had some sort of information, and they tried rather hard to get it. He was delivered to an American base by a group of Italians, but… we've no idea how he managed to get free of the SS. He won't tell anyone. Until he does, the military want to keep a very close eye on him. He's fighting a fever. He's not in very good shape at all, I'm afraid, but compared to how he was… well, let's just say it's utterly incredible how he managed to fight so hard to try and leave.
He wouldn't be conscious a minute before he was up and charging to be let out the door. He certainly must have had something important to do. Arthur blinked a few times after her in surprise. He laughed a little to himself, looked down at Alfred, and felt his heart jump to his throat when he noticed Alfred's eyelids fluttering.
Arthur held his breath as Alfred slowly opened his eyes, blinked a few times, then looked straight up at Arthur.
His face lit up in a blinding grin.
We'll Meet Again Chapter 8, a hetalia - axis powers fanfic | FanFiction
If we're dreaming… let's not wake up. He lifted Alfred's hand to his lips and kissed it. I'm not going anywhere. It was one of the best afternoons of his life.
It seemed like hours later that Arthur blearily opened his eyes to find that the lights had been lit. He must have fallen asleep sometime in the early evening. He blinked in confusion, unsure where he was, until with a sudden rush of joy it all came flooding back. Arthur rubbed his eyes with his free hand, looked down at Alfred, and found him smiling up at him. He had never felt so happy, so content, so unbelievably thankful in his entire life.
The weeks of despair already seemed a distant memory. For months he had felt as though a part of him had been ripped out, and now he felt whole again. They both gazed quietly at each other for what could have been a minute Arthur never wanted to move. His hand fell back heavily on the bed.
Arthur laughed in disbelief. Good God, Alfred, it's just a scratch. I'm slightly more concerned about you right now. His bruised eyes; his bandaged head.
He didn't look fine. They wouldn't let me out of here, and they kept throwing my letters away. It was so hard… knowing you were just down the road and I couldn't reach you. Didn't you believe me? I wondered why his bed was empty. Obviously his strategy was a little more effective than mine. He decided not to think about it. Arthur's heart thumped a little faster. I know I don't look the best right now.
I'd have been out of here days ago, too, if it wasn't for that damned sleeping needle they keep sticking in me. Why on earth did you keep fighting them then? Arthur burned with both joy and dismay that Alfred would trouble himself so much for him. Embarrassed, thrilled, overjoyed; he searched for a way to change the conversation. But you can tell him for me, right? I should be going too. The doc said I'll never fly again. Not after what they did to my eyes. His eyes… what had they done to his eyes?
Arthur searched for something to say. There was nothing to say. Your grammar is atrocious and you can't spell in Italian. He just wanted to take Alfred home, wanted to hold him, wanted to touch him and kiss him and… "When will they let you out of here? Well, the ones that can heal, anyway. It made Arthur feel suddenly ill.
He did not even ask for a bourbon. Arthur poured one anyway. This was not a regular visit. Arthur nodded slowly, even as his stomach turned slowly cold. Take a seat and I shall be with you in a moment. Eventually when the bar top was sparkling clean and nothing remained to delay him, he headed over to the table by the second front window with a glass and a full bottle of rum to sustain him.
They sat in complete silence for a few minutes, tension building, until finally Alfred spoke. He tried not to think. Tried not to feel. There's a landing planned at Anzi… Anza…" Alfred laughed humourlessly. He tried to swallow.
We'll Meet Again - Wikipedia
He had known this day was coming, but somehow he had thought they would have a little longer. He shook his head, trying to make sense of it. He looked apologetic, his normally cheerful face disturbingly grave.
We knew we were leaving soon though. He willed himself to focus on it. There were a few cracks.
It would need to be repainted. The noise of the pub washed over him and turned to static in his head. When Alfred spoke it seemed to come from far away.
Please don't waste your time on me. There is so much to do for tomorrow I mean, this evening, I…" Arthur hastily grasped for his glass of rum, only to knock it over. He ignored it and picked up the bottle instead. For a long moment their eyes remained locked. Alfred's were wide, pleading. It took all Arthur's strength to tear his away. He turned, almost knocking the chair over in his haste, and rushed from the room. He tried desperately to hold himself together as he passed groups of patrons drinking and talking and laughing.
His hands clenched into fists and his eyes stung. Finally he pushed open the back door, hurried up the stairs and through his living area into his bedroom, and slammed the door behind him.
Leaning back against it, he covered his face with his hands and promptly burst into tears. This was absurd, he told himself. He should be relieved to be rid of that annoying American, to get his life back, to not have to deal with this uncertainty and confusion.
But all he could feel was a cold, empty hole where his heart used to be. The idea that he would never see Alfred again left him breathless. The thought that he… but no, he couldn't think that. Arthur tore off his apron and tie, threw them angrily to the ground before unscrewing the bottle of rum. He took a deep gulp, unheeding of the burning in his throat. All he wanted was oblivion. He swallowed, breathed deeply, and drank again as the hot tears streamed over his cheeks.
He wiped them away impatiently. And Arthur had known all along that he would, but the reality of it knocked him nearly senseless. After gulping down a few more mouthfuls of rum, Arthur gasped for breath and headed for his bed, wanting nothing more than to crawl under the covers and never come up. But he stopped in his tracks as the door opened behind him.
Arthur froze mid-step, feeling his stomach twist and his neck burn. He had forgotten to lock both doors. The door behind him clicked shut and he felt a warm presence at his back. He couldn't turn around. Alfred's voice was rough and uncertain. I don't want that to be the way we say goodbye. He tried to wipe his tears without making it obvious, but felt Alfred grasp his arm gently but firmly.
Arthur forced himself to turn and look at Alfred. One brush of Alfred's hand and it was over in one intense, overpowering moment. Alfred followed immediately, clutching onto Arthur's hips with sweat-soaked hands before he shuddered and moaned into Arthur's ear.
We'll Meet Again
He hadn't even managed to unbutton his pants. After taking a minute to catch his breath, Arthur burst into laughter, closely followed by Alfred. But Arthur quickly gasped and shot upright, concerned… Alfred had only just left hospital, what the hell was he doing dragging him onto the floor!
Arthur decided to believe him. After all, he felt the same way. Eventually they lay getting their breath back. It should have been uncomfortable lying on the floor, but it wasn't.
Arthur felt he could lay there forever. And the first thing you ever said to me…" Alfred furrowed his brows and twisted his face into a furious expression before shouting, "'Get the bloody hell down from that bloody table you stupid bloody Yank!
Terrible language, really," said Alfred, shaking his head, though he seemed to be trying not to laugh. Arthur just glared at him. Alfred didn't appear to notice. The first night we met? How could I possibly forget? You barged through the door, introduced yourself as the man who was going to save England, then proceeded to drink an entire bottle of bourbon, attempt to start a fight with a chair, and end the night by passing out on top of the bar. Alfred laughed and pulled himself into a sitting position against the wall.
I'd just fallen in love. Arthur lost track of how long he just sat there, leaning against the wall with Alfred, their bodies pressed together and their breathing slowly returning to normal. The sun rose high in the sky through the window. The morning marched slowly on, time running past them, with nothing they could do to stop it.
Arthur finally broke the tranquil silence with a question that had been bothering him for days. It came out more like a statement. Arthur didn't dare to look up at him. Of course, Alfred's letters, the ones he had read a hundred times. Ludwig was the German fighter pilot who had been captured, the one with the photo, the one who was loved by an Italian resistance fighter.
His arm tightened around Arthur while his other hand grasped for Arthur's own. Arthur took it and squeezed reassuringly. Alfred sat in silence for a moment before he finally started speaking. I'm grateful for that. It all just sort of blurred into a haze of pain and nightmare. W camp, but they seemed to think I had collaborated with the Italian resistance movement.
I don't know what they thought I knew. I don't know what they wanted me to tell them. But I told them nothing and they eventually moved me to a new base. I remember being brought in, and that's when I saw the German pilot again. I will never forget that face. After a few moments he continued.Vera Lynn - We'll Meet Again (1943)
They were painful for Arthur to hear. Again Alfred paused and Arthur waited patiently. He knew how difficult this must be for Alfred. He had barely spoken of his experience in captivity, and Arthur preferred it that way. The few allusions he had made to the matter just tore at Arthur's heart. He couldn't bear to hear about the hell Alfred had gone through just because the SS wanted information that he didn't even possess.
But Arthur stayed silent, determined to listen to anything that Alfred had to say. I thought I was dreaming. But I wasn't, he was really there, and he took me out of the base. I don't know how long he walked with me on his back I could barely move, you see. It turns out he spoke English, and he kept trying to keep me awake.