Fake (Hetalia: FrUkUs)

.36.

The trio left an hour later, all returning to Alfred's house. Peter stayed with Joanna, she promised to bring him back later, to spend time with his mother. Alfred drove home while Francis held Arthur in the backseat. The streets were still relatively empty, only a few early birds up and about, but otherwise, the dark street was silent. Flashing Christmas lights betrayed the solemn mood of the residents in the truck. Snow fell in a flurry- large fluffy flakes falling on the road to turn to slush, and onto the sidewalks to pile high, and onto rooftops to give an authentic Christmas feel.

In other words, it looked like Christmas, but it did not feel like it.

When they pulled up the driveway, Alfred parked the car, but left the motor running and climbed into the back with the other two. He wrapped an arm around Arthur's waist, letting him know he was there, and put his other around Francis' shoulder and rested his head against the others.

"Where here, Arthur," He whispered.

They sat in the truck for around fifteen minutes, letting snow cake the windows and hide the trio within from the outside world. They stayed cocooned in the warmth, simply holding each other and trying to provide whatever comfort they could.

When they finally shuffled inside, Alfred had to carry Arthur since he had fallen asleep, and together, the two still awake stripped the other of his winter clothes and their own and took him upstairs where Francis and Alfred held Arthur between them, a reassurance even in sleep.

Alfred woke at ten that morning to sniffles and muffled tears, and as his senses began to awaken, he felt a hand carding softly through his hair.

When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was his two lovers in front of him, holding each other. Then it was the arm that had reached over and was currently petting him. He reached up and took the hand in his own, swiftly bringing it to his lips to press a gentle kiss to the back of it.

Arthur turned around, and Francis followed. Both of there eyes were red rimmed and had silent tears falling down there faces.

Alfred sat up and turned, twisting his lower half into the pile of blankets (it was freezing despite the thermostat being set to almost seventy-five), and looking at the both of them.

"Did something happen? Where's Peter?" He inquired as he attemted to untangle himself, "I'll drive us to the hospital-"

"Alfred," Arthur choked and bit his lip. He shook his head and just leaned forward to lean his head onto Alfred's shoulder. He tightened his grip on Alfred's hand until it almost hurt.

"What-" He cut off in distress, unsure what to ask. He looked to Francis, asking him to explain what had happened, but he only placed a hand on Arthur's back and then leaned over to press a kiss to Alfred's forehead.

"We need to speak with you," He whispered, staring at him with an intensity that almost scared Alfred.

"What happened?" He was worried about Taika. The doctors had said that she was stable just that morning, what could have happened in only a few hours?

More had happened in less time.

"It's not Taika," Arthur sniffled and looked up at Alfred, "Alfred, I'm worried about you."

Now, how on earth did what happen this morning affect him? Arthur was obviously the more upset of the three- and of course he would be- It was his aunt for crying out loud!

"Arthur, I don't know what you mean," He settled down in the sheets and his eyes flicked back and forth between his two lovers.

"We both are worried about you, Alfred," Francis whispered when it was obvious Arthur wouldn't be able to continue, "This morning frightened Arthur, and I can't help but think about how-" He swallowed, "How quickly life changes"- He had to stop to breathe deeply for a moment- "How fast someone can be taken away."