Chapter Text
“Arthur! Arthur!”
“Wake up, Arthur!”
The feel of a small hand pulling on his sleeve.
Arthur’s eyes were bleary as he finally awoke, blinking rapidly, wrenching his hand from the one tugging on it before he could even think, using it to shield his eyes from the sun.
…The sun? What was he doing outside?
He suddenly felt itchy. Damn the grass.
“Arthur, please—”
“Would you shut it?!” Arthur finally snapped, managing to force himself upright, his eyes squeezed shut. He still wasn’t used to the light.
A beat of silence.
Arthur finally opened his eyes and shot a glare to the one next to him.
In only a moment, his expression melted into shock, then something softer. It appeared that the one attempting to wake him was a small, young version of Alfred. A young version of Alfred that looked like he was about to burst into tears.
Dammit.
“Alfred?” Arthur faltered, slouching his shoulders, lowering his defenses. “No, no, don’t—”
Without thinking, he scooped the young boy up into his arms and patted him on the back. He wasn’t quick enough to stop Alfred’s crying, but at least he wasn’t wailing like he normally would be—just soft, quiet sobs into his shoulder.
He had no idea what was going on.
“I’m sorry,” Arthur soothed, patting his head and rocking him back and forth. “Please, don’t cry…”
He soon realized that he needed to focus on finding out where he was, though he kept Alfred in his arms as he stood up and began to wander.
The land before him appeared as a large meadow, no trees in sight from where he was standing. Beautiful, colorful flowers were dotted around the area—cowslips and daisies being the most common, Arthur noticed.
“Alfred,” He glanced down at the boy in his arms for a moment before scanning around him once again. “Do you know where we are?”
“Um, no, sorry.” Alfred responded quietly. He seemed a bit sleepy. Arthur wondered how long he’d been waiting for him to wake up.
“Hm…” Arthur pondered. “Ah, I know who I should ask! Flying Mint Bunny, where are you?”
He waited.
And waited.
And then sighed, for he knew that it wasn’t there.
“Blast…” He murmured to himself. It seemed as though he was trapped there for now. “Alfred, did—”
Looking down again, he noticed that the little boy had fallen asleep. Precious. Inconvenient, but precious.
“Ah.” Arthur pressed a kiss to the top of his head, though he didn’t know why he was inclined to do so. Perhaps he missed taking care of something so small. His friends were small, too, but they could handle themselves.
Nothing could ever replace the memories of his time with little Alfred. Not even this.
He knew this wasn’t the realm he was used to, and he knew the boy in his arms wasn’t the Alfred he raised. Despite it all, he did feel as though he was responsible for this one.
Arthur heard a noise behind him. A sort of whoosh. He jumped just slightly, still careful not to drop Alfred, before turning around to see a door had appeared out of thin air.
A door. That wasn’t there before. Curious.
If this were a normal situation, he would have been much more cautious.
This was anything but normal. That much was obvious.
So he opened the door.
“Arthur, you’re back!”
The sound of Alfred’s voice—closer to what he sounded like now, though obviously younger, a bit like how his voice was in his early teens—was clear in Arthur’s brain before he even saw him.
Arthur stepped into the room. It looked like a mix of a kitchen and a dining room, a quaint little table already set for dinner.
“Hello, erm… Alfred.” He hesitated, glancing over at the table, then back to the young man in front of him. “Did you make this?”
“Uh, yeah. You were late coming over here, so I tried one of your old recipes,” Alfred scratched the back of his neck, a nervous habit that he’d subconsciously picked up from Arthur over the years. “Hope that’s okay.”
“Yes, it’s fine.” He sighed. The meal looked quite appetizing—of course it did, it was his own recipe—Alfred had clearly tried harder than he normally would have.
…Perhaps he had enough time to enjoy a bite before heading off…
Arthur moved to sit at the table, the young Alfred still in his arms.
“Do you know where I am?” He found himself asking. “Surely you must know.”
The older Alfred tapped his chin in thought. “You're in, like… a weird flashback, I guess. Dream thingie. Dunno how to put it.” He shrugged.
“Interesting…” Arthur huffed out what sounded like a laugh, glancing down at the little Alfred he was holding before looking back up. “I trust you know how to get out, yes?”
Alfred nodded, but he seemed a little hesitant. “Uh, yeah. It's down the hall to the right.” He gestured over to the hallway behind Arthur.
“...Would you like to share a meal first?” Arthur was surprised at his own question. He hadn't wanted to share a meal with Alfred in a long time, even if this wasn't his Alfred.
Alfred looked just as perplexed before his expression melted away into a smile. “Yeah, I… didn't think you'd actually want to. That was just what I was told to do.”
“Please. I'd like it very much.”
Alfred sat down across from Arthur.
The two enjoyed the meal together in a comfortable silence, Arthur still rocking the little boy in one of his arms as he ate.
When they finished, he stood up and handed the child to Alfred. “I think I'll head out now.” He practically murmured.
He felt sentimental. That was his boy.
Alfred nodded in understanding. “Yeah, see you around, man.”
Arthur hesitated for just a moment. He didn't want to leave, but alas, he could feel himself stirring already.
So he turned and headed down the hall, finding the door Alfred had mentioned.
There was nothing but black on the other side.
He glanced back at Alfred in the dining room before finally waking from this odd dream.