4 months. 4 long months.
You sat at the kitchen table, tapping your index finger on the wood as you waited impatiently for the phone to ring. You were looking down at your tapping finger, wondering what was taking so long. You still couldn't believe that in just a few days you would having Al's child. But, you also couldn't believe that those days are numbered for Al. You knew he didn't have much time left.
Back in February, Alfred had to go back to the hospital. He managed to get himself into the car, but he never got back out. You remembered his last words, as well as the conversation, as you sped down the freeway.
"You're gonna be alright, Alfred! Just hang in there for a few more minutes, okay? I promise, I won't let you go".
You rushed past slow-moving cars, swerving left and right to change lanes. Next to you in the passengers seat was a near-dead Alfred. You looked over at him constantly, just to make sure he was still breathing. Before he spoke, a small smile appeared on his face.
"__-_____________", he whispered, "…it…it doesn't hurt anymore…".
After you pulled over and slammed on the brakes, you looked over at your friend, who had been staring off into space. Little did you know that all life within him had went cold. You tried shaking him back into reality, smacking him around like you used to in school, and giving him CPR. But it was no use. The friend you knew as Alfred F. Jones was gone. Forever.
After spending a great deal of time throwing a fit about your loss, you finally gathered enough strength to get back up and drive home. You couldn't believe it. You didn't want to believe it. You thought it was so unreal, that you almost started a conversation with the corpse.
Ever since that day, you had been taking care of a very, very sick Al. It was exactly like Alfred said.
"You can't have a player 2 without a player 1".
The phone finally rang, snapping you back to reality as you practically pounced on top of the phone to answer it.
You nearly yelled through the phone speaker. You thought it was the hospital, but instead, Matthieu was on the other line.
"__-____________?" he questioned.
You answered back in disappointment.
A short silence held over the phone speaker before he continued.
"…I did it…", he muttered.
"Did what, Mattie?"
Another silence hung.
"It's my fault….it's all my fault and I'm beginning to regret it…", he admitted halfway.
"What the hell are you-"
"It's my fault that Arthur's dead!"
Matthieu yelled through the phone. Another silence fell across the phone as you had already dropped it on the ground from shock.What the hell? No. That's not possible. Matthieu loved Arthur. Why would he-
You left the phone on the ground as you rushed to grab your jacket and keys. You burst out the front door, to your car, and drove off to Matthieu's house.
Once you made it to his home, you banged on the door. He came answering and you swung at him with all of your strength.
"How could you do this, Matthieu!? Was there even a good reason to it? Huh!? What the hell was going through your mind!? You were there at the party and you just allowed that to happen? I want you to explain yourse-", you stopped suddenly, clenching your stomach and nearly stumbling backwards. Matthieu tried his best to help you.
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2P!America x Reader: Shit HappensFanfiction
The American Revolution was brutal. Blood was shed left and right. The boy Arthur used to know was now as strong as he, and he could do nothing about it. Once the battle was won, Alfred had declaired himself as America. As he went off, leaving Brita...