Sighing, Arthur leaned back against the arm of his couch. He pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. "This is harder than I thought it would be." Arthur dropped his hand and stared at the man sitting on the other end of his couch, who still hasn't shown any emotion without being told to, even though Arthur had been practicing with him for the past two weeks. "You're really not feeling anything?"

Alfred shook his head. "No. I am not understanding what it is that you and Dr. Beilshmidt are trying to accomplish."

Arthur bit back harsh words, although he knew they wouldn't affect the cyborg. "The only thing I managed was you smiling when you say 'thank you' and it's not even how you used to smile when you were alive!" Arthur twisted around on the couch and hugged his knees to his chest.

He heard Alfred shift closer. "I am sorry, Arthur... I do not have any memory from my past. All I can remember is when I woke for the first time in Dr. Beilshmidt's lab."

The Brit looked down, not wanting to respond. He stared at the picture of him and Alfred from just over a year ago that Alfred somehow hadn't noticed. He sighed, leaning over to lay the picture frame face-down. "I'm tired. I'm going to bed. I'll see you in the morning." Arthur stood up and walked to his bedroom, slowly shutting the door behind him.

~

Arthur gasped, sitting straight up in his bed.

"Arthur? Arthur?"

Said Brit looked over, slight panic in his chest until he recognized the cyborg. He breathed out and relaxed. "Oh, Alfred. What is it?"

Alfred's brow creased only slightly. "You were crying and calling my name. Were you dreaming of my death?"

Arthur blinked, then sighed. "Yes, I suppose I was," he muttered, wiping away the tears that had fallen while he slept. "I'm sorry if I bothered you."

"You did not. I woke up from my five hour sleep just several minutes ago. You still have three hours to sleep, yourself." Alfred sat on the edge of the bed, his head tilting only slightly.

"Oh." Arthur bit his lip and looked down. "Well, thank you for waking me. I hate seeing that over and over."

Alfred nodded, then shifted so he sat closer. "I have been wondering," Alfred began, looking at Arthur, "how did I die? Dr. Beilshmidt will not tell me."

The Brit looked up at Alfred, twisting the sheets in between his fingers. "Saving me."

"Is that why you are so upset when you are near me?" Alfred's brow creased further. "You must have seen it, then."

"Not really. Francis saw it happen." Arthur shook his head. "You were still standing when I turned around, but it was too late to do anything." Arthur took in a deep breath. "We were running to get back to HQ because you had gotten the blue prints. You have them to Francis so he could run ahead. We were being followed, so we had to move faster, but I was only slowing down. You had to carry me. We ran by a building that was in the middle of construction, so there were loose poles everywhere. Several poles were shaken from the building as bombs went off. We happened to be running by. I was slowing you down, so both of us could have died if Francis didn't warn us. To save me, you had to stop to throw me. While I was on the ground, a pole had impaled your chest." Arthur trembled, blinking back tears. "I tried t-to keep you awake, keep you alive, but-"

Arthur paused as Alfred placed a hand on top of his own. Arthur looked up at the American. "I am about to do something. I do not understand it, but I have seen Mrs. Elizabeta Beilshmidt do this with Dr. Beilshmidt." Alfred leaned forward, then wrapped his arms around the shaking Brit. Arthur gasped, being pressed against Alfred's firm chest, his face nuzzled in the crook of Alfred's neck, his arms by his sides. "You told me five days ago that it is okay to cry. So, Arthur, go ahead and cry if you need it."

Tears steadily started to drop from Arthur's eyes, wetting Alfred's shirt. He raised his arms and grasped Alfred's shirt as sobs tumbled past his lips. Arthur pressed closer to Alfred, taking in his warmth he had missed so. Alfred held Arthur closer, resting his chin on the smaller man's head. Slowly, Alfred began rocking the Brit back and forth, whispering softly. "I am sorry you had to see that. Maybe you will get over it someday."

~

Arthur yawned and attempted to stretch as he woke, but found that he couldn't. He opened his eyes, then gasped as he jerked back, but was kept in place by large, firm arms.

"You are awake." The body holding Arthur shifted, then pulled their arms back. Arthur sat up with wide eyes, trying to remember why Alfred was in his bed. Alfred sat up and slid of the bed. "You slept for four hours, one hour longer than you were supposed to, but I let you sleep. I will go make us some breakfast." Then he stepped out of the bedroom.

The Englishman calmed his breath as he went over the events of the previous night. He crawled of the bed and got out his clothes.

~

Arthur walked beside Alfred as they made their way to the lab.

"Morning, you two!" Elizabeta greeted as she unlocked the lab, Gilbert yawning and holding their week-old baby right behind her.

The Brit smiled. "Good morning, Elizabeta."

Alfred nodded his head. "Good morning, Mrs. Beilshmidt."

Elizabeta rolled her eyes and smiled. "Alfred, please. You should know to just call me by name. Same with Gilbert. Like you do with Arthur."

The cyborg blinked, then nodded. "Of course, Elizabeta."

Arthur bit his lip and looked down. He felt oddly upset that Alfred wouldn't just be calling him by his first name. He had felt special to be the only one on first-name basis with Alfred. He followed them into the lab, Gilbert muttering under his breath about how he didn't want to work because Alaric, their newborn, kept him up all night long.

"Alright, Alfred." Gilbert handled the sleeping babe to his wife, then he went over to a corner in the lab. "Let's recharge your heart."

Alfred nodded, shrugging off his jacket, handing that to Arthur, then taking off his white tank top.

Arthur couldn't help but to stare at Alfred's well built torso, then when he spotted the out-of-place metal chunk embedded in Alfred's chest, his breath caught in his throat.

Elizabeta noticed Arthur distress and placed a hand on his shoulder. Arthur looked down at the new mother. She smiled softly. "Go out for a while. Go catch a break. You don't have to force yourself to be here."

The Brit stared down at her, then nodded. "Thank you, Elizabeta," he whispered, then he left.