The plane took off into the sky, and Alfred smiled, looking out the window. He was going home, after a year and a half in that hellhole. He wondered who would be waiting for him when he got off the plane. Canada, France…Arthur, his fiancé, the love of his life. God, how he'd missed him.
He'd volunteered to go on a solo-scouting mission; or, that was what he'd told Arthur. He'd really gone on an infiltration mission, to sneak into the enemy's base, and photograph some of the plans. He didn't want Arthur to worry, though. He also didn't want him to tag along. He couldn't risk Arthur. If Arthur got hurt, he'd never forgive himself.
But Arthur had almost caught him on his lies.
"Alfred, what kind of scouting mission can take more than a few days? And a solo-scouting mission?"
"Please, Artie, don't ask me, the boss told me so. Anyway, you have to stay here, and teach the new recruits!" Alfred took his lover's hand, sliding his fingers on Arthur's promise ring, smiling down at the Brit. Alfred wore his ring around his neck, to keep Arthur close to his heart. They also wore each other's dog tags, as a symbol that they'd always be together.
"Fine. I won't get into whatever secret mission you've become entangled in. But please, just be safe. Come back to me, I can't live without you…" Arthur let a tear trail down his face.
Alfred pulled him into an embrace, holding him close, wrapping one arm around his beloved, the other running thru messy golden locks. "Of course, Artie, I'll always be here, and I will always love you, remember that. Anyway, heroes can't die. Just wait for me, and I'll be back before you know it."
They stood there for a long time, before Alfred leaned down and kissed Arthur's lips one last time before grabbing his duffel bag. "Wait for me!"
"I will, you bloody git! Be safe!" Alfred waved as the jeep pulled away from the army base…
The mission hadn't gone as planned. There had been a rat in the system, and they'd known he was coming. The ambush had overwhelmed him in no time, and he'd been captured. He had grabbed the chain around his neck as they threw him into the back of an army truck and drove him off, chained to the floor with a metal clasp around his ankle too thick to break. Feeling his silver promise band and Arthur's dog tags, he realized they'd known who he was, what he was.
They tried every type of torture that didn't leave permanent scars, hiding it from the higher-ups. Mind games, Chinese water torture; the list went on and on. He eventually started to tell faulty or out of date information, seeing as that was the only way to make them let up. After awhile, they figured him useless, and threw him in a cell and forgot about him, occasionally throwing food in.
He'd stayed in that kind of limbo ever since, until the treaty was signed, and he'd been released. Then, his people let him shower, gave him a meal, and put him on the first plane to New York City, knowing how eager he was to see his family again.
Alfred felt his eyes droop down, and he fell into a light doze, exhausted from his hurried packing, and excited to be able to hold the love of his life in his arms. Finally, he was coming back. He grabbed unconsciously onto his necklace.
He was the first one off when the plane landed, and ran off the tarmac, into the lobby of the airport, only to be greeted by a man holding a sign with his name on it.
"Where's my family?"
"They were informed, sir but chose not to come. I am to take you to your new home." The man was in his late fifties, stuffy, and reminded him sorta of Batman's Alfred. 'Cept he wasn't cool like an Alfred. Wait, chose not to come? New home?
"Excuse me? Are you sure you called the right people? Arthur Kirkland? M-Mathew…um…Williams? You must have the wrong name on that sign."
"Sir, we informed a Mr. Kirkland and his French husband, and they told us not to call again. We talked with the quiet fellow…can't recall his name, who told us it would be best if you didn't return to you're old job, as things were running…er…better without you."
Alfred stared at the man in shock. He had to be lying. Arthur was HIS fiancé. He must have heard wrong. And Mattie would have been here for him! They were best bros! And hadn't Arthur promised him he'd wait…? Was this some kind of sick joke? This had to be a mistake.
"Heh, very funny. Now where is Artie? Is this some joke?"
The man who looked like a butler pulled something from his pocket.
"Mr. Kirkland informed us to tell you that he has moved on, and that he wouldn't want to create a rift or disruption in his happy relationship with his Husband by seeing you again. He wishes you a happy life, and hopes you will find love down the road. Here." The man took Alfred's hand and placed an object in it.
"My dog tags…we switched our dog tags towards the beginning of the war…oh my god…" Alfred quickly sat down on the nearest bench, tears threatening his eyes. This couldn't be happening. Arthur loved him! Him alone, undying!
"He said, sir, that he simply couldn't wait any longer. He wasn't sure if you were dead or alive these past months."
But a year and half after his capture, Arthur had moved on, throwing him out like last weeks' burnt leftovers.
"I am truly sorry for your loss. Since you are still a target in the enemy's eyes, we're putting you under the witness protection program. Your info is no longer secret. You'll have to change your name, but you'll have everything covered by the government."
"Whatever." America right now would agree to almost anything. A shot in the head, even. He was numb all over, no feeling in his body what so ever.
"And you can never see your former family and friends."
"Yep. Sounds great." Inside, all he could feel was breaking. His voice was no longer his.
He followed the man to the car, and took the dog tags from his own neck. "Give these back to him." But, he couldn't bring himself to give back his ring. He simply slipped the dog tags from the chain and put them in the palm of the man's outstretched hand. Then, putting his own dog tags on with the ring, he climbed in the car, severing all ties between him and his former life.
Author's Note: I've never published anything on Fanfiction before, so please be kind. I have no idea what I'm doing, and can't figure out how to do those line-y things. If you like my story, please rate and review.
Fun Fact: The British stole the 'Stone of Scone' from the Scottish during Edward I's reign (a.k.a. WAY BEFORE Elizabeth I). This stone was where Scottish kings had been crowned on for hundreds of years (was called Stone of Destiny to differentiate it from the pastry). They put it in Westminster Abbey. In 1950, Christmas Day, the Scots stole it back, but told the British police where it was hidden, making them look ridiculous. The British formally (finally) gave it back 1996...hurr hurr...