Post by America on Jan 23, 2011 19:53:50 GMT -8
"Wait here." was all Renato said before he left Arthur outside of a liquor store, with a chain linked to the back of the collar around his neck so he couldn't run away tied around a post. Not that that stopped him from trying, but the chain was tight and his collar was welded around his neck as far as he knew.
So, with a sigh, he sat down heavily and scowled, trailing a finger through the dirt. This was... terrible. He'd meant to go out and have an adventure. See the world and show his family that he didn't need them. And what had come of it? Slavery. It was humiliating. Especially to the Italian bastard.
But what was he going to do about it if he couldn't escape in the first place?
Alfred couldn't help but grumble, shoving his hands into his pants pockets as he walked down the street. Why couldn't Auntie Emma go out to buy milk herself? He had been in the middle of a very important game of baseball with some of the other boys!
Oh! But heroes shouldn't complain! He shoved the annoyance aside continuing down the street. Right, all he had to do was go get the milk, give it to Auntie Emma and then he could rejoin the others!
With that thought in mind he quickened his pace, before taking off in a sprint. Right! Time to use a heroic-dash and get there faster!
How much time did it take to buy booze? Arthur wondered as he sat in the over-warm sunlight, quietly sweating away. He hated waiting like this and wouldn't put it past the old man to just be standing there, watching him from inside and laughing at his misery. Bloody bastard.
Leaning back against the building, Arthur stuck his legs out, picking at freckles that he could see just above his knee in sheer boredom. And loneliness. He couldn't believe he was thinking it but... he wanted to go home. Badly.
Running as he was Alfred wasn't actually paying attention to where he was going. So when his right foot suddenly collided with something (and leg) he squawked in surprise, pin-wheeling his arms in an attempt to keep balanced. In the end though the American fell forward, just barely catching himself with his hands to keep from getting a bloody nose.
Groaning he pushed himself up, prepared to glare at whatever had tripped him and ruined his 'heroic-dash', only to pause when he saw that it wasn't a something he tripped over. But someone's leg. "... Whoops?"
Yelping at the sudden pain of someone’s foot colliding with his leg, Arthur was quick to curl up, pained tears hidden against his knees until the throbbing went away. Looking up to glare at whomever was dunce enough to trip over a PERSON of all things, Arthur had this strange feeling of déjà vu as he looked into blue eyes.
"Wh..." he paused, shook his head and scowled hard. He didn't know this boy - didn't know anyone around here so the odd feeling was probably just irritation. "Watch where you're going you - you prat!" he growled, rubbing his sore leg.
Blue eyes met green eyes, and Alfred couldn't help but blink completely confused. A strange jolt of familiarity coursed through him, like when he had first met Mattie. Before everything had happened... But how did they-
A scowl crossed his face at the growl. Pushing back Alfred sat on the ground in front of the weird guy, almost pouting. "Well, so-rry! People don't general sit with their feet hangin' out where people can trip! Geeeze!"
"Well I certainly am not sitting here willingly." Arthur argued back, taking his anger and frustration out on the poor, hapless boy. "Bloody American prat - that hurt!" Looking behind him at the liquor store, he couldn't help but be somewhat relieved that Renato hadn't come outside at the commotion. Despite the loud, somewhat dense American yelling at him, he was highly preferable to the man who called himself Arthur's master.
"Then why're you sitting here?" Alfred blinked, ignoring the funny insults that the teen was throwing at him. He glanced at the liquor store too, not being able to help but blink in a bit of confusion. Then his eyes caught sight of the weird collar that hung around the blond's neck, along with the chain. Well that was weird, it looked like something a dog should be wearing... Head tilting to one side Alfred reached out, poking it. "What's that?"
That is the reason I'm sitting here. I'm a slave." he hunched in on himself, depression quickly taking over him. "And my so-called 'master' is inside this shop and didn't want me along... so he chained me here until he comes back outside." he tugged at the chain rather uselessly, wishing it gone so he could go home. Hell, he'd even apologize to his family for running off if he had a chance to escape and see them again.
"A... slave?" Alfred repeated the word, looking at the collar and chain, and then at the blond boy. He was a slave? Blue eyes became wide. So he was trapped? Like he and Mattie had been. Except, unlike them, this kid was forced to work. And he had a master? Before he even knew what he was doing he was on his feet, trying to untie the chain from the post. "C-C'mon then! I'll help you get away while he's busy in there!"
"E-eh?" Arthur was rather stunned at the sudden turn of events. The boy was.... trying to help him? The dumb blond who had tripped over him and argued with him over him sticking his legs out was trying to save him? For a long moment, all he could do was stare wide-eyed at the odd boy. "Wh-why are you even helping me? I thought..." he stuttered, embarrassed by what may be a wrong grasp of the boys personality.
"Because you’re in trouble. Duh." Alfred blew a puff of air at his bangs that had decided to flop in his face. Tugging at the chain again he frowned at how tight it was. But it seemed to be loosening little by little, despite how much his fingers were starting to ache from undoing it. "And I'ma hero! Heroes help people no matter what! S-So I'm gonna... Get you outta here!"
Managing to squeeze his fingers between the links he yanked at them, nearly falling over in the process.
"But there's no way you can break the chai-" Arthur turned around, boggled by the idea of a kid who appeared younger than him claiming to be a hero. And then stunned into silence as the boy began to yank apart metal chain links with his hands. Jaw dropping open, he could only stand and watch, a slow, strange feeling of mixed déjà-vu and the feeling of potential freedom bubbling up inside of him. Could it be.... possible?
In a matter of moments he'd managed to break the chain, grinning happily at his success, and ignoring his throbbing fingers. Then he turned his head, seeing the way the other had stared at him. A sheepish smile replaced the proud grin. Alfred began to shift from foot to foot, offering his hand to the other boy as he explained. "I um... Am really strong..."
Unnaturally strong to be exact.
It took a long moment for Arthur to get over his shock. As his hands reached out to pick up the part of the chain that was still attached to him, he couldn't help but jangle it as if to convince himself he wasn't dreaming. That he was... free. "I... I can see that." he mumbled, clearly shocked. Then it struck him. He wasn't free - not yet. Renato was in the store, and could come out at any moment. "Crap. We... we should go." he looked nervously over his shoulder.
Where would they go? He had no money and knew no one who may be willing to take some obviously escaped slave onto their ship to take back to England. "... d-do you know where we are?" he asked, because while he knew he was in the America’s, he didn't know where. "I'm... rather lost."
"Of course I know!" Alfred responded automatically, almost immediately grabbing the others hand and pulling him up to his feet. "This is my home town, I can get you anywhere you need to go!"
He grinned, using his free hand to give the man a grin, along with a thumbs up. "You can even stay with me until you figure things out!"
On his feet, Arthur shot one last glance behind him, in case the Italian chose to come out at that moment. Then, with a shuddering breath that was not holding back tears, he squeezed the other boys hand gratefully and nodded. "I... thank you."
He would have said more, but the desperate need to get away was making him queasy. "Please... can we go? I... I don't want to get caught." the faint sound of fear, of what would happen to him if Renato caught him running away, tinged his voice.
"Of course, c'mon let's get going!" If Alfred caught the faint sound of fear, he didn't comment on it. Instead he turned, beginning to hurry down the street and dragging the blond behind him. After they put enough distance between the shop and themselves he would slow down. Glancing back though he couldn't help but laugh. "And don't thank me! Ah! Names Alfred by the way, Alfred F. Jones!"
Clinging to the others hand as they ran - the other boy may look younger but he was taller and healthier than Arthur was and it was all he could do to keep up and hold the chain still attached to his neck close to him. He kept glancing around him, afraid that an adult was going to see his collar and stop them. He was so afraid that Renato had figured out he was gone and was after them and it was all he could do to keep up and breathe, because it was getting really hard to do that at the pace they were going.
Waiting until they were at least two blocks away, Alfred came to a halt, breathing heavily despite all the time he spent running around. He turned his head, blinking slightly upon seeing how out of breath the other one was. Laughing nervously he used his free hand to scratch the back of his neck. Whoops, he probably should've slowed down earlier. "We can sit down for a bit 'til you catch your breath?"
Practically collapsing on the street beside him, Arthur managed to mumble a quiet thanks as he tried to catch his breath. He felt rather dizzy, with a combination of nerves, giddiness, hunger and thirst and at that moment if Alfred asked him to stand up and move again, he was pretty sure he couldn't. Curling up on himself to hide the chain, Arthur warily looked around and was quietly glad he didn't recognize anyone in the crowd and none of them were giving them second glances.
Leaning against the wall Alfred caught his breath, before looking at the blond. He still had yet to learn the boy’s name, not that he minded. Maybe he just didn't want to give out his name? That was always a chance. Besides, even without knowing his name Alfred felt like they had met before. It was an odd familiarity really. Smiling instead now though he pushed himself off the wall, before squatting down in front of him. "Y'know, if you wanna head back to my house my Auntie Emma can cook you anything you want! She's really good at cooking. And she really loves feeding people! Uncle George said it's 'cause she's from Italy. Or well her parents were."
"Ah... are you sure that's okay?" he huffed, heartbeat slowly getting back under control. "Wh-what if Renato finds out I'm there? I... I wouldn't want your family to be hurt because of me..." he mumbled, having flinched lightly at the mention of his aunt being from Italy. What he really wanted to do was find some way to get his collar off, because then he could walk around without as much fear. Though the sound of food made his stomach grumble loudly at how much it had been ignored recently.
"Uncle George can take on any mean jerk that tries to come after you! He was in the military, he's a hero!" Alfred smiled with childish innocence, the idea that anything bad could happen to his family cross his mind. "Plus!" He added on, poking the collar. "He'd probably know how to get that off."
Biting his lip nervously, Arthur considered the offer. Food, shelter, someone who could probably remove the collar and a military connection? "W-well..." it almost sounded too good to be true. But who was he to look for another way when something was offered to him? Perhaps it was just him getting some good luck after all his troubles.
Standing up slowly to avoid the blood rushing to his head, Arthur tried on a smile, something he hadn't done in what felt like ages. "Alright then. That sounds wonderful." Holding out his hand to shake the other boys, he decided it was best to introduce himself. "My name is Arthur Kirkland, by the way. And thank you again... for everything."
"Like I told you before! Don't thank me!" Alfred grinned, eyes lighting up upon learning the others name. He took the offered hand, shaking it excitedly. "It's all in a hero’s duty to help out those in need! So c'mon, let's get goin' Artie!"
A voice in the back of his mind told him not to call the other that, that he would probably be called one of those funny names again. But Alfred could only just grin at the idea, jumping up to his feet without thinking to let go of the others hand.
The faint smile that graced his lips twitched down into a frown. "It's Arthur. Not 'Artie'." he pouted, having had Renato call him all sorts of nicknames, he really just wanted to hear his name be used. But he was quick to follow the other, weaving behind him through the crowds cautiously.
"Fine, fine Arthur!" He would quit with the nicknames, at least for right now. Grinning still he yanked Arthur forward slightly, so that they were walking side by side. Swinging their hands as they walked down the street. Soon he was rambling on about the first things that came to his mind, hoping to get the other to relax. "You've got a funny accent y'know! You sound like the funny guys in those weird British shows I've seen on TV! Are you British? Does it really rain a lot over there? Oh! Oh! Do you guys have superheroes too!?" Really, Alfred probably was beginning to resemble an excited puppy.
Arthur was easily overwhelmed by the constant stream of questions that he was being asked. Opening and closing his mouth, he tried to find a moment to speak, but Alfred kept talking. Arthur didn't mind too much despite the annoyance of being interrupted. The other was so enthusiastic it was actually endearing enough that he found himself relaxing.
Of course, that was when Renato appeared out of the crowd and grabbed his arm. "There you are, brat." his smile was full of daggers as Arthur froze up on the spot. "I was wondering where you had gotten off too. Time to go back now." The grip on his arm tightened to the point where it was painful and Arthur couldn't help but wince and curl in on himself at the pain.
Alfred froze too when he heard the older man’s voice, slowly turning his head to stare at him. For a moment a jolt of fear ran through him. But Alfred shoved it aside, especially when he saw the reaction it had on his friend. A strange urge to just shield and protect the other over came him. Leaving the American wanting to do nothing more than to just pull Arthur far away from Renato and stand between them. See as he couldn't do that though, Alfred opted to stand at his full height in an attempt to be threatening. "He isn't going anywhere! So go away you jerk!"
The Italian looked blankly at the American teen, wondering who the boy was and how he had anything to do with his wayward slave before shrugging off what he'd said. He was a kid and an obviously untrained one by the look of him. "That's nice, kiddo. Go back to your home. I'm here to take Arthur to his." he put it as nicely as he could, not out and out saying that the boy was his slave just in case the teen didn't know.
Arthur, on the other hand, was clinging to Alfred's arm, terrified of what was going to happen to him if he let go. He didn't want to go with Renato, but he didn't know what Alfred could do to save him now.
"He isn't going with you!" Alfred shouted, and then did the first thing he thought of. He kicked Renato as hard as he could in the shin in hopes that by doing so he would let Arthur go. And then in that case he could just run, dragging Arthur with him. Maybe they could find an adult, duck into a shop. Anyplace. There was no way he was going to let his new friend be taken. Especially after reassuring him that he was going to save Arthur!
The kick only made Renato grip harder and his smile go sharper. "I wouldn't do that again, little boy." the kid had the feeling of a Nation about him, but that didn't mean that as Rome he had to show the boy any respect. Arthur - England, Britannia, whichever - belonged to him and no snot nosed little baby nation was going to take him away. "Because there are consequences for behavior like that."
Dragging Arthur along with him, Renato turned and started to walk away, dragging both boys if the other kid didn't let go of Arthur's arm.
Arthur was beginning to feel like he was being pulled in half, with both men tugging on him in different directions.
For a moment Alfred tried to pull back, to keep Arthur and himself from going anywhere. Soon though he was stumbling after the two, glaring daggers at the Italian's back. "Let him go! You... You... You bastard!"
Auntie Emma would wash his mouth out with soap if she heard him say that word, and probably scream at Uncle George since that's who had taught it to Alfred.
Dragging the two of them along uncaringly, Renato headed unerringly in the direction of his ship, one hand firmly on Arthurs wrist, the other holding a rather large bag of booze. "That's cute, coming from your kid. I'll have you know my parents were married when I was born." he smiled, rather amused by the poor kid's attempts to be strong. Well. He'd just have to show him that reality wasn't all saving the day.
Arthur, meanwhile, looked back at Alfred, white-faced. "Alfred, let go!" he yelped. "Or he'll just take you too!" he didn't want to see the - rather nice - American kid end up being enslaved as well.
"... Huh?" The comment on marriage completely confused Alfred, who only knew that word was bad. Not what it meant. Glaring still though he tried to dig his heels into the ground, not paying any attention to what Arthur said. Like hell he was going to let his friend go now! Eyes darting around he tried to think of something. And then, then he did the only thing he could do. He quickened his steps a bit and then kicked his leg out at the bag of booze in the hopes of breaking its contents and again distracting the Italian.
"Oh, that tears it." Renato tugged hard on Arthurs arm, ignoring the loud popping noise as the boy's shoulder dislocated in his bid to hold the boy by the back of his neck. Arthur went limp, Renato assumed he'd passed out from the pain, while his other hand dropped his ruined bag of alcohol and pulled out his gun, pointing it straight at the boys head.
"Where I come from, damaging someone’s property like that is cause for you to work off your debts to me. But seeing as how you're apparently stupid." he growled, "and doesn't know my customs, I'll let you off with a warning. Don't. Touch. What belongs to me." he shook the unconscious blond in his grip. "And as he belongs to me, that includes the boy."
"Arthur!" His eyes went wide when the other went limp. For a second Alfred hadn't even noticed the gun to his head, more concerned with the limp figure of his friend. When Renato spoke however, he noticed the gun. Alfred's eyes went wide as saucers staring down the barrel of the gun. His heart raced against his chest, his blood running cold. He tried to speak, but his voice wouldn't come out at first. All he wanted to do was run but... But he could. Heroes, heroes never ran! "H-He's no-not yours!"
"He belongs to me. As in I saved his life when I could have killed him. As in I took him to a slave maker and paid good money for his skinny ass." Renato clicked the safety off the gun. "So let go of him, or I will add you to my collection of skinny ass slaves. That or kill you, it doesn't particularly matter to me."
When the safety was clicked off, Alfred reacted without even realizing it. He had stumbled away, letting go of Arthur's hand despite a voice screaming at him not too (an older voice). Soon Alfred had turned around, running away as fast as his legs could carry him. Ignoring the voice shouting at him to turn around. He ran until he had made it home, until he was safely in his room, hiding under the blankets where nothing could harm him.
It was there that his mind finally caught up to him fully. Alfred felt his stomach drop. He had left Arthur... He had just left... His eyes burned but... But heroes didn't cry they didn't...
He curled up in a ball, letting the tears fall. After all, heroes didn't leave people behind.
Alfred was no hero...
Renato huffed with a satisfied smile, putting the safety back on before hauling his unconscious slave up over his shoulder, leaving the bag of alcohol on the road for anyone who wanted it. Broken or not, he needed to get the kid back to the ship and fix his arm before it healed wrong and he crippled the British nation for life. "Poor bastard." he mumbled, thinking back on the tenacious blond. He wished he could have treated the other better, but when it came to things that belonged to him... Renato wasn't about to just give them away. If the American had stood up to him, had withstood having a gun in his face and a fight against him, he wouldn't have had a problem with leaving the enslaved Arthur with him. But he hadn't been beaten, which meant Arthur was still his, and still needed his protection.
So, with a sigh, he sat down heavily and scowled, trailing a finger through the dirt. This was... terrible. He'd meant to go out and have an adventure. See the world and show his family that he didn't need them. And what had come of it? Slavery. It was humiliating. Especially to the Italian bastard.
But what was he going to do about it if he couldn't escape in the first place?
Alfred couldn't help but grumble, shoving his hands into his pants pockets as he walked down the street. Why couldn't Auntie Emma go out to buy milk herself? He had been in the middle of a very important game of baseball with some of the other boys!
Oh! But heroes shouldn't complain! He shoved the annoyance aside continuing down the street. Right, all he had to do was go get the milk, give it to Auntie Emma and then he could rejoin the others!
With that thought in mind he quickened his pace, before taking off in a sprint. Right! Time to use a heroic-dash and get there faster!
How much time did it take to buy booze? Arthur wondered as he sat in the over-warm sunlight, quietly sweating away. He hated waiting like this and wouldn't put it past the old man to just be standing there, watching him from inside and laughing at his misery. Bloody bastard.
Leaning back against the building, Arthur stuck his legs out, picking at freckles that he could see just above his knee in sheer boredom. And loneliness. He couldn't believe he was thinking it but... he wanted to go home. Badly.
Running as he was Alfred wasn't actually paying attention to where he was going. So when his right foot suddenly collided with something (and leg) he squawked in surprise, pin-wheeling his arms in an attempt to keep balanced. In the end though the American fell forward, just barely catching himself with his hands to keep from getting a bloody nose.
Groaning he pushed himself up, prepared to glare at whatever had tripped him and ruined his 'heroic-dash', only to pause when he saw that it wasn't a something he tripped over. But someone's leg. "... Whoops?"
Yelping at the sudden pain of someone’s foot colliding with his leg, Arthur was quick to curl up, pained tears hidden against his knees until the throbbing went away. Looking up to glare at whomever was dunce enough to trip over a PERSON of all things, Arthur had this strange feeling of déjà vu as he looked into blue eyes.
"Wh..." he paused, shook his head and scowled hard. He didn't know this boy - didn't know anyone around here so the odd feeling was probably just irritation. "Watch where you're going you - you prat!" he growled, rubbing his sore leg.
Blue eyes met green eyes, and Alfred couldn't help but blink completely confused. A strange jolt of familiarity coursed through him, like when he had first met Mattie. Before everything had happened... But how did they-
A scowl crossed his face at the growl. Pushing back Alfred sat on the ground in front of the weird guy, almost pouting. "Well, so-rry! People don't general sit with their feet hangin' out where people can trip! Geeeze!"
"Well I certainly am not sitting here willingly." Arthur argued back, taking his anger and frustration out on the poor, hapless boy. "Bloody American prat - that hurt!" Looking behind him at the liquor store, he couldn't help but be somewhat relieved that Renato hadn't come outside at the commotion. Despite the loud, somewhat dense American yelling at him, he was highly preferable to the man who called himself Arthur's master.
"Then why're you sitting here?" Alfred blinked, ignoring the funny insults that the teen was throwing at him. He glanced at the liquor store too, not being able to help but blink in a bit of confusion. Then his eyes caught sight of the weird collar that hung around the blond's neck, along with the chain. Well that was weird, it looked like something a dog should be wearing... Head tilting to one side Alfred reached out, poking it. "What's that?"
That is the reason I'm sitting here. I'm a slave." he hunched in on himself, depression quickly taking over him. "And my so-called 'master' is inside this shop and didn't want me along... so he chained me here until he comes back outside." he tugged at the chain rather uselessly, wishing it gone so he could go home. Hell, he'd even apologize to his family for running off if he had a chance to escape and see them again.
"A... slave?" Alfred repeated the word, looking at the collar and chain, and then at the blond boy. He was a slave? Blue eyes became wide. So he was trapped? Like he and Mattie had been. Except, unlike them, this kid was forced to work. And he had a master? Before he even knew what he was doing he was on his feet, trying to untie the chain from the post. "C-C'mon then! I'll help you get away while he's busy in there!"
"E-eh?" Arthur was rather stunned at the sudden turn of events. The boy was.... trying to help him? The dumb blond who had tripped over him and argued with him over him sticking his legs out was trying to save him? For a long moment, all he could do was stare wide-eyed at the odd boy. "Wh-why are you even helping me? I thought..." he stuttered, embarrassed by what may be a wrong grasp of the boys personality.
"Because you’re in trouble. Duh." Alfred blew a puff of air at his bangs that had decided to flop in his face. Tugging at the chain again he frowned at how tight it was. But it seemed to be loosening little by little, despite how much his fingers were starting to ache from undoing it. "And I'ma hero! Heroes help people no matter what! S-So I'm gonna... Get you outta here!"
Managing to squeeze his fingers between the links he yanked at them, nearly falling over in the process.
"But there's no way you can break the chai-" Arthur turned around, boggled by the idea of a kid who appeared younger than him claiming to be a hero. And then stunned into silence as the boy began to yank apart metal chain links with his hands. Jaw dropping open, he could only stand and watch, a slow, strange feeling of mixed déjà-vu and the feeling of potential freedom bubbling up inside of him. Could it be.... possible?
In a matter of moments he'd managed to break the chain, grinning happily at his success, and ignoring his throbbing fingers. Then he turned his head, seeing the way the other had stared at him. A sheepish smile replaced the proud grin. Alfred began to shift from foot to foot, offering his hand to the other boy as he explained. "I um... Am really strong..."
Unnaturally strong to be exact.
It took a long moment for Arthur to get over his shock. As his hands reached out to pick up the part of the chain that was still attached to him, he couldn't help but jangle it as if to convince himself he wasn't dreaming. That he was... free. "I... I can see that." he mumbled, clearly shocked. Then it struck him. He wasn't free - not yet. Renato was in the store, and could come out at any moment. "Crap. We... we should go." he looked nervously over his shoulder.
Where would they go? He had no money and knew no one who may be willing to take some obviously escaped slave onto their ship to take back to England. "... d-do you know where we are?" he asked, because while he knew he was in the America’s, he didn't know where. "I'm... rather lost."
"Of course I know!" Alfred responded automatically, almost immediately grabbing the others hand and pulling him up to his feet. "This is my home town, I can get you anywhere you need to go!"
He grinned, using his free hand to give the man a grin, along with a thumbs up. "You can even stay with me until you figure things out!"
On his feet, Arthur shot one last glance behind him, in case the Italian chose to come out at that moment. Then, with a shuddering breath that was not holding back tears, he squeezed the other boys hand gratefully and nodded. "I... thank you."
He would have said more, but the desperate need to get away was making him queasy. "Please... can we go? I... I don't want to get caught." the faint sound of fear, of what would happen to him if Renato caught him running away, tinged his voice.
"Of course, c'mon let's get going!" If Alfred caught the faint sound of fear, he didn't comment on it. Instead he turned, beginning to hurry down the street and dragging the blond behind him. After they put enough distance between the shop and themselves he would slow down. Glancing back though he couldn't help but laugh. "And don't thank me! Ah! Names Alfred by the way, Alfred F. Jones!"
Clinging to the others hand as they ran - the other boy may look younger but he was taller and healthier than Arthur was and it was all he could do to keep up and hold the chain still attached to his neck close to him. He kept glancing around him, afraid that an adult was going to see his collar and stop them. He was so afraid that Renato had figured out he was gone and was after them and it was all he could do to keep up and breathe, because it was getting really hard to do that at the pace they were going.
Waiting until they were at least two blocks away, Alfred came to a halt, breathing heavily despite all the time he spent running around. He turned his head, blinking slightly upon seeing how out of breath the other one was. Laughing nervously he used his free hand to scratch the back of his neck. Whoops, he probably should've slowed down earlier. "We can sit down for a bit 'til you catch your breath?"
Practically collapsing on the street beside him, Arthur managed to mumble a quiet thanks as he tried to catch his breath. He felt rather dizzy, with a combination of nerves, giddiness, hunger and thirst and at that moment if Alfred asked him to stand up and move again, he was pretty sure he couldn't. Curling up on himself to hide the chain, Arthur warily looked around and was quietly glad he didn't recognize anyone in the crowd and none of them were giving them second glances.
Leaning against the wall Alfred caught his breath, before looking at the blond. He still had yet to learn the boy’s name, not that he minded. Maybe he just didn't want to give out his name? That was always a chance. Besides, even without knowing his name Alfred felt like they had met before. It was an odd familiarity really. Smiling instead now though he pushed himself off the wall, before squatting down in front of him. "Y'know, if you wanna head back to my house my Auntie Emma can cook you anything you want! She's really good at cooking. And she really loves feeding people! Uncle George said it's 'cause she's from Italy. Or well her parents were."
"Ah... are you sure that's okay?" he huffed, heartbeat slowly getting back under control. "Wh-what if Renato finds out I'm there? I... I wouldn't want your family to be hurt because of me..." he mumbled, having flinched lightly at the mention of his aunt being from Italy. What he really wanted to do was find some way to get his collar off, because then he could walk around without as much fear. Though the sound of food made his stomach grumble loudly at how much it had been ignored recently.
"Uncle George can take on any mean jerk that tries to come after you! He was in the military, he's a hero!" Alfred smiled with childish innocence, the idea that anything bad could happen to his family cross his mind. "Plus!" He added on, poking the collar. "He'd probably know how to get that off."
Biting his lip nervously, Arthur considered the offer. Food, shelter, someone who could probably remove the collar and a military connection? "W-well..." it almost sounded too good to be true. But who was he to look for another way when something was offered to him? Perhaps it was just him getting some good luck after all his troubles.
Standing up slowly to avoid the blood rushing to his head, Arthur tried on a smile, something he hadn't done in what felt like ages. "Alright then. That sounds wonderful." Holding out his hand to shake the other boys, he decided it was best to introduce himself. "My name is Arthur Kirkland, by the way. And thank you again... for everything."
"Like I told you before! Don't thank me!" Alfred grinned, eyes lighting up upon learning the others name. He took the offered hand, shaking it excitedly. "It's all in a hero’s duty to help out those in need! So c'mon, let's get goin' Artie!"
A voice in the back of his mind told him not to call the other that, that he would probably be called one of those funny names again. But Alfred could only just grin at the idea, jumping up to his feet without thinking to let go of the others hand.
The faint smile that graced his lips twitched down into a frown. "It's Arthur. Not 'Artie'." he pouted, having had Renato call him all sorts of nicknames, he really just wanted to hear his name be used. But he was quick to follow the other, weaving behind him through the crowds cautiously.
"Fine, fine Arthur!" He would quit with the nicknames, at least for right now. Grinning still he yanked Arthur forward slightly, so that they were walking side by side. Swinging their hands as they walked down the street. Soon he was rambling on about the first things that came to his mind, hoping to get the other to relax. "You've got a funny accent y'know! You sound like the funny guys in those weird British shows I've seen on TV! Are you British? Does it really rain a lot over there? Oh! Oh! Do you guys have superheroes too!?" Really, Alfred probably was beginning to resemble an excited puppy.
Arthur was easily overwhelmed by the constant stream of questions that he was being asked. Opening and closing his mouth, he tried to find a moment to speak, but Alfred kept talking. Arthur didn't mind too much despite the annoyance of being interrupted. The other was so enthusiastic it was actually endearing enough that he found himself relaxing.
Of course, that was when Renato appeared out of the crowd and grabbed his arm. "There you are, brat." his smile was full of daggers as Arthur froze up on the spot. "I was wondering where you had gotten off too. Time to go back now." The grip on his arm tightened to the point where it was painful and Arthur couldn't help but wince and curl in on himself at the pain.
Alfred froze too when he heard the older man’s voice, slowly turning his head to stare at him. For a moment a jolt of fear ran through him. But Alfred shoved it aside, especially when he saw the reaction it had on his friend. A strange urge to just shield and protect the other over came him. Leaving the American wanting to do nothing more than to just pull Arthur far away from Renato and stand between them. See as he couldn't do that though, Alfred opted to stand at his full height in an attempt to be threatening. "He isn't going anywhere! So go away you jerk!"
The Italian looked blankly at the American teen, wondering who the boy was and how he had anything to do with his wayward slave before shrugging off what he'd said. He was a kid and an obviously untrained one by the look of him. "That's nice, kiddo. Go back to your home. I'm here to take Arthur to his." he put it as nicely as he could, not out and out saying that the boy was his slave just in case the teen didn't know.
Arthur, on the other hand, was clinging to Alfred's arm, terrified of what was going to happen to him if he let go. He didn't want to go with Renato, but he didn't know what Alfred could do to save him now.
"He isn't going with you!" Alfred shouted, and then did the first thing he thought of. He kicked Renato as hard as he could in the shin in hopes that by doing so he would let Arthur go. And then in that case he could just run, dragging Arthur with him. Maybe they could find an adult, duck into a shop. Anyplace. There was no way he was going to let his new friend be taken. Especially after reassuring him that he was going to save Arthur!
The kick only made Renato grip harder and his smile go sharper. "I wouldn't do that again, little boy." the kid had the feeling of a Nation about him, but that didn't mean that as Rome he had to show the boy any respect. Arthur - England, Britannia, whichever - belonged to him and no snot nosed little baby nation was going to take him away. "Because there are consequences for behavior like that."
Dragging Arthur along with him, Renato turned and started to walk away, dragging both boys if the other kid didn't let go of Arthur's arm.
Arthur was beginning to feel like he was being pulled in half, with both men tugging on him in different directions.
For a moment Alfred tried to pull back, to keep Arthur and himself from going anywhere. Soon though he was stumbling after the two, glaring daggers at the Italian's back. "Let him go! You... You... You bastard!"
Auntie Emma would wash his mouth out with soap if she heard him say that word, and probably scream at Uncle George since that's who had taught it to Alfred.
Dragging the two of them along uncaringly, Renato headed unerringly in the direction of his ship, one hand firmly on Arthurs wrist, the other holding a rather large bag of booze. "That's cute, coming from your kid. I'll have you know my parents were married when I was born." he smiled, rather amused by the poor kid's attempts to be strong. Well. He'd just have to show him that reality wasn't all saving the day.
Arthur, meanwhile, looked back at Alfred, white-faced. "Alfred, let go!" he yelped. "Or he'll just take you too!" he didn't want to see the - rather nice - American kid end up being enslaved as well.
"... Huh?" The comment on marriage completely confused Alfred, who only knew that word was bad. Not what it meant. Glaring still though he tried to dig his heels into the ground, not paying any attention to what Arthur said. Like hell he was going to let his friend go now! Eyes darting around he tried to think of something. And then, then he did the only thing he could do. He quickened his steps a bit and then kicked his leg out at the bag of booze in the hopes of breaking its contents and again distracting the Italian.
"Oh, that tears it." Renato tugged hard on Arthurs arm, ignoring the loud popping noise as the boy's shoulder dislocated in his bid to hold the boy by the back of his neck. Arthur went limp, Renato assumed he'd passed out from the pain, while his other hand dropped his ruined bag of alcohol and pulled out his gun, pointing it straight at the boys head.
"Where I come from, damaging someone’s property like that is cause for you to work off your debts to me. But seeing as how you're apparently stupid." he growled, "and doesn't know my customs, I'll let you off with a warning. Don't. Touch. What belongs to me." he shook the unconscious blond in his grip. "And as he belongs to me, that includes the boy."
"Arthur!" His eyes went wide when the other went limp. For a second Alfred hadn't even noticed the gun to his head, more concerned with the limp figure of his friend. When Renato spoke however, he noticed the gun. Alfred's eyes went wide as saucers staring down the barrel of the gun. His heart raced against his chest, his blood running cold. He tried to speak, but his voice wouldn't come out at first. All he wanted to do was run but... But he could. Heroes, heroes never ran! "H-He's no-not yours!"
"He belongs to me. As in I saved his life when I could have killed him. As in I took him to a slave maker and paid good money for his skinny ass." Renato clicked the safety off the gun. "So let go of him, or I will add you to my collection of skinny ass slaves. That or kill you, it doesn't particularly matter to me."
When the safety was clicked off, Alfred reacted without even realizing it. He had stumbled away, letting go of Arthur's hand despite a voice screaming at him not too (an older voice). Soon Alfred had turned around, running away as fast as his legs could carry him. Ignoring the voice shouting at him to turn around. He ran until he had made it home, until he was safely in his room, hiding under the blankets where nothing could harm him.
It was there that his mind finally caught up to him fully. Alfred felt his stomach drop. He had left Arthur... He had just left... His eyes burned but... But heroes didn't cry they didn't...
He curled up in a ball, letting the tears fall. After all, heroes didn't leave people behind.
Alfred was no hero...
Renato huffed with a satisfied smile, putting the safety back on before hauling his unconscious slave up over his shoulder, leaving the bag of alcohol on the road for anyone who wanted it. Broken or not, he needed to get the kid back to the ship and fix his arm before it healed wrong and he crippled the British nation for life. "Poor bastard." he mumbled, thinking back on the tenacious blond. He wished he could have treated the other better, but when it came to things that belonged to him... Renato wasn't about to just give them away. If the American had stood up to him, had withstood having a gun in his face and a fight against him, he wouldn't have had a problem with leaving the enslaved Arthur with him. But he hadn't been beaten, which meant Arthur was still his, and still needed his protection.
