Looking For Alaska

Chapter Eight

"It's already noon and he still isn't awake," Andrew complained, "Can't I just go, already?"

"You need to be patient," Ivan instructed, though the American was beginning to grate on his nerves, too.

"Can I at least go wake him up now?" Andrew asked, "This is ridiculous."

"No, no, let him sleep," Ivan waved him off, "Go out and play. Be back in time for supper."

"Sweet," Andrew slid down from the table and was out the door before any minds could be changed, slamming it shut behind him.

Ivan sighed. He also rose from his chair, searching the house cupboards for some things, thinking of one last tactic that may just work to wake Alfred up.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The first thing that brought Alfred around was the smell of breakfast.

This was slowly followed by the image of his bedroom coming into view. He didn't remember coming up here last night after their movie. In fact, he didn't even remember Andrew ever coming home. He bolted out of bed so fast he ended up tripping and falling on his face, foot caught in his nest of blankets.

Ivan heard the crash from upstairs and ignored it, focusing on the sizzling food in the pan. Alfred came running into the room, panting as he used the doorframe to keep himself up.

"...Andrew?" he breathed, worried.

"You fell asleep after only a few minutes into the movie," Ivan explained, "Andrei came home perfectly fine and we watched it while you slept."

"Where-"

"He went out after eating."

"Oh," Alfred let this information sink in before wandering over to the table and sitting down, his chin resting on his folded arms, "What're you making?"

"I suppose this would qualify as breakfast if it wasn't already well past noon," Ivan answered, moving the bacon with a spatula.

"It is? Woah, I almost slept all day!" Alfred laughed.

"Da. You did."

"Wait a minute!" Alfred sat up, "If I fell asleep watching the movie, how'd I end up upstairs? I don't remember going to bed."

"You don't seem to remember anything when you're half asleep," Ivan stated, remember the morning before.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Ivan brushed away his concerns, placing the food onto a plate and sliding it across the table to Alfred before taking his seat on the other side, "I carried you to bed."

"You what?" Alfred froze, mouth already full. His fork was held in mid-air.

"Don't act so surprised," Ivan said, "You have a perfectly good bed, you might as well use it."

"For what?" Alfred demanded.

"For sleeping," Ivan answered, like it was obvious, "What else would you use it for?"

"Nothing!" Alfred quickly defended, shoving the remaining bacon on his plate into his mouth and moving his chair back, "I've gotta go! I'll... Uh... See you later."

"What's the rush?" Ivan raised an eyebrow, a upward curl present on his lips.

"You know, I've got tons of paperwork to get to," Alfred pointed behind him towards the door.

"On a Sunday? I find that very unlikely."

"Back work," Alfred justified, stepping back as Ivan stood, moving around the table, "All sorts of really important things..." His back hit the wall and in the seconds it took for him to turn and see what was in his way, Ivan was there, trapping him with a hand pressed against the wall.