Faith

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A/N: Warning - very mournful, suicidal and self-harm thoughts. No deeds, only thought.

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Two nights have passed.

Two terrible, helpless nights for a certain blond Brit who kept stirring, tossing and turning in his sleep like it was the end of the world.

Alfred was about to leave this morning, and that made sleep for Arthur almost impossible.
He barely slept five hours in total, in the span of two days.

Wednesday, 5 AM.

I am ruined. I am helpless. He is about to leave me. This isn't happening.

What if he doesn't come back? What if he doesn't want to come back because he likes the States  better than London, or if he simply just doesn't want to see me again?

I sense something wrong with all this. What if the travel is actually a lie so he could finally escape the burden of me for a while?

I surely wouldn't blame him.
Who can love me?  I don't deserve someone like Alfred, anyway.

With certainty, he will find someone better in Washington D.C. Someone who isn't a needy nuisance, who can stand being alone for three minutes without having a breakdown, and someone who doesn't need to be taken care of as a child.

I am worthless. I am nothing.

I am nobody.

Arthur was staring at the ceiling that entire Wednesday morning, heartbroken and pitiful, mournful thoughts dancing around his mind and poisoning it with its distressing negativity.
He had the urge again, after weeks of not feeling it at all.

But I promised to keep content for him.
Who am I kidding? I am not strong enough to bare the burden on my chest.

I might as well end my life tonight.

As he thought about it, he didn't even notice that tears started streaming down his face silently, making his face stiffen a little from the cold that formed after those tears.
He looked so peaceful, but inside felt so empty, so broken, defeated...

I doubt he's coming back. I doubt Lukas is coming back either.

Who needs a friend like me? Who needs a lover like me?

No wonder everyone's leaving me. No goddamn wonder Alfred had slept with Mathias, and never with me.

Nobody wants me.

Nobody cares.

Nobody understands.

Since it was 5 AM, Arthur tried his complete hardest to not begin sobbing. Since, it would be loud, and disturb Alfred's sleep. And by Arthur, he had done enough damage to the American already.

I wish I had never met Alfred anyway. Then I wouldn't cause trouble to him, and he would be happy.

I just want him to be happy.

Maybe he would be happier if I was... Gone.

I am a burden. Arthur Kirkland, you're useless, pathetic, terrible, meaningless, ineffective...

I wonder if anyone would notice if I was gone.

Well, I guess that's a thing I'll never know.

He placed his hands over his face, wiping off his tears, but with no use since there were more coming.

And then the clouds rose above him, blurring his vision even more than it was from crying, making him choke out a painful sob and bury his face in the pillow underneath, trying to stop this madness... But it wasn't possible.

There is only one way out of this, and it's... It's...

He didn't even get to finish the thought from how terrible it felt to think of it, but a part of him wished that he finished it nonetheless.

Oh, how I wish I was gone.

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Arthur wasn't the only one with a troubled mind that Wednesday morning.

Alfred shifted in his sleep since 4 AM, trying to find a comfortable position that would make him feel at least a little bit relaxed, but nothing helped. It wasn't the couch, it wasn't the warm pillow, it was the thought of leaving his hopeless lover alone.

The plane to Washington was taking off at 10 PM, and Alfred was supposed to get some sleep, so he doesn't sleep on the plane.

It wasn't his first plane flight - in fact, his seventh. When he first moved to London was his first flight. All the others were flying to the United States and back.

I won't be there for long, will I? It's supposed to be a four day stay in Washington D.C.
Hopefully they don't keep me there for a week or so.

Arthur couldn't stand being alone for that many days...

Arthur.

My love, my daylight, my sun and my light at the end of the tunnel... Oh, how much I love you.

After they had left the park that day, two days ago, Arthur had picked a white lily from the bush despite Alfred's restraint.
And he gave it... To Alfred.

Now it stood by his bedside table, as a lucky charm of sorts. And he was going to bring it with him just because he wanted to do his job well and come home as soon as possible - so of course he would bring the one thing that would bring him luck and remind him of Arthur.

Alfred couldn't stand this anymore. He had to do something about all the thoughts he had...

What would make Arthur feel better while he is alone?

Alfred quickly sat up on the couch and found a piece of paper already standing there on the small table next to the couch. He had always kept it there along with a pencil so he could write down something for work if needed.

But today was different. He had so much more on his mind than work.

So he picked up a pen and started writing.

Arthur. Arthur James Kirkland, though you hate your middle name and never let me use it.
Some call you Churchill, but not just because of the meaning of your surname.

They say you'll be known.

I say it too.

Oh, Arthur, maybe now times seem desperate, maybe you feel like ending it all and losing all the good you have to live for,  just because of the bad you have.

I'll stay by your side. And when I'm not there, I still somehow... Am. By spirit, Arthur, think of the spirit.

You used to have such a cheerful one.

Terrible things happen, and I know it. I haven't known you for long, but you told me about all the happy memories you used to keep in your mind... Of your family.

We're a family, Arthur. Not a married couple... Not yet, at least, but we are family.
Maybe our personalities differ, greatly at that word, but love connects us and always will.

I believe in faith, Arthur.

I have faith in you.

You should, too.

Yours truly, Alfred Jones.

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