Chapter XIII

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After they somehow managed to put Alfred into a calmer state, and made him agree to stay in the room by himself for a while - to which he said yes only if there was some kind of louder music filling the silence - the three ended up spending the entire afternoon in the cafeteria, discussing what they were going to do with him next. Matthew was all for giving him proper care, while Arthur was apprehensive about what kind of outcome would sending him to a mental unit have on him. Perhaps good, but there was a big chance of it being really bad.

"But how would Liz and Gilbert react to coming back all the way from Europe and finding out that their best friend isn't at the university with them anymore? Just like that?" The Brit gave all possible arguments against it, yet a rational part of him knew that he was most probably just being selfish, he wanted Alfred next to him no matter what... And he didn't want him get taken away. "I can provide everything for him. I will help him with absolutely everything he needs, I swear."

"Arthur, you're not a psychiatrist. You're not even a certified psychologist yet. I know emotional support is important, but he needs a real doctor. I mean, from what I've seen, he's barely holding up, and you say that's how it has been for the past two weeks. That's major. I can't look at him suffer like that. And if Liz and Gilbert are our true friends, which I'm more than sure they are, they will understand." 

Still, Matthew had better arguments. Alfred needed to be provided with actual medication, therapy, care, something he couldn't get right if he stayed with them at the dormitory, at least not right now when he seemed to be at his worst state so far. Maybe it was only the beginning.

"What about his dream of becoming an artist?" Arthur fought back again.

"He's not going to be there forever, you know. And the good thing with colleges and universities is that you can always come back when you're ready. They only care about the money and you're good. And he can always pursue the art dream, wherever he is, on the go. That's the best thing about being an artist."

Adrienne nodded in agreement to his lover's words, though it saddened her a lot to be put in this kind of situation. She empathized greatly with everyone she loved, and she could feel all of Alfred's sorrow on the inside just by looking into his clouded eyes. "I'm all for getting him any kind of help." She commented, exhaling deeply and drinking a full cup of coffee in less than a few minutes because of the stress.

This was the last thing the two wanted to come back home to. A loved one struggling. There was nothing worse than that, no feeling more crushing or devastating. But life just wasn't fair, it never was and never would be, they knew that all too well.

The Brit had no more words to say. They were both right, it was the only thing to do. He would just have to face it - he was going to get separated from Alfred and there was no way to avoid that happen. It was going to be like a weight on top of their shoulders for all of them, everyone who was close to him, but they wanted the best for him and that was everything that mattered. Putting health first, both mental and physical, because those are of the same value.

"You speak wise words, Matthew Jones, and I hate to say it, but I have to agree with you. After all, I want him to recover from this. It's just, I met him not so long ago, and I wanted to see more of him, more of who he truly is. And now he's already getting ripped from my arms." Arthur sighed, a wave of guilt washing over him as soon as he said the words, he didn't want to make this about him. He didn't want to be labelled selfish and uncaring, something he really wasn't.

"You'll get to see the best of him once he comes back." The American gave the other a small, promising smile. "Also, I think you should be the one telling him about what we decided. I mean, this is going to be the hardest on him, out of all of us, and you're his partner. His guide, in a way. You should do it."

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