Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Alfred was four when he first met him, albeit briefly – that strange man in the forest with striking green eyes and who had leaves growing out from underneath his skin.

It was a cool summer in British Columbia, Canada, when Alfred's family went to visit his cousin's. The house was situated just outside a small town with an endless forest as its backyard, untouched by humans and overrun with age-old growth. 

One day, while the adults drank and chatted on the patio, the two boys wandered further and further into the greenery while on a hunt for flowers to gift their mothers. With only the innocent determination to see his mother smile, Alfred skipped off the beaten path and away from his cousin.

Soon, he found himself very, very lost. By the time he realized his cousin and the house was no longer in sight despite several minutes of wandering around, his cries were muted by the thickness of the forest.

But he wasn't alone. Someone had indeed heard his cries.

"Why are you crying, little one?"

Alfred looked around to find the source of the voice - distinctly male and rich with accent.

"Over here."

The voice seemed to echo all around him and he found it hard to pinpoint its exact direction. But after doing a full circle, he eventually found the source.

A few feet away from him was a man. His skin was so white, it was translucent, and his blond hair, glowing under the sun, was wild with wind. The man's eyes, larger than the average human, flared with an ensemble of shades of green as vibrant as the forest around them. 

When the man walked towards him, leaves swirled by his feet like rippling water. Alfred should've been scared. In fact, he should've been terrified. But even as the strange man knelt in front of him, the four-year-old couldn't feel anything but awe.

The man blinked. "Can you see me now?"

Alfred's mouth was agape but he nodded.

"Good." He smiled and Alfred took comfort in its warmth. "Now, tell me, why are you crying?"

Alfred rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. "I'm lost."

The man glanced down at the flowers grasped tightly in the little boy's hand. "Were you picking flowers?"

Alfred nodded. "For Mommy."

"I see," he replied, a smile creasing the corner of his eyes. "Do you remember where your house is?"

Alfred shook his head, hopelessness causing his eyes to tear up again.

Seeing the distress and panic resurfacing, the man gently shushed him with a soothing pat on his head. "Fret not, little one. Let's get those flowers to your mother, hm? I think I have an idea."

He stood up and reached out a hand for Alfred to take, which Alfred immediately took. The hand was cool to the touch, and it brought a sense of relief as it contrasted against the warm, panicked flush Alfred was experiencing. 

"You know where home is?" he asked the man.

"An idea," the man replied. "I've been watching you."

"Watching me?"

"This is my forest. I see everything."

"Oh. Okay."

Feeling pretty satisfied with the answer, Alfred busied himself with staring at the ground in front of him, but it didn't take long for his eyes to start wandering around again.

"Hey, mister? Why don't you have any shoes on?" Alfred tried to look back up at the man's face but the sun cast it in a shadow.

"I don't need them," the man replied smoothly.

"Oh. Well, I need them. Mommy gets upset when I go outside with no shoes on."

A low laugh rumbled through the man's throat. "Yes, I suppose humans do often need shoes these days."

Alfred found this answer curious. "Are you not a human?"

"...I'm whatever you think I am."

Alfred hummed in thought. "Well, you look kind of look like a human." He thought for a second longer before giving a firm nod of the head. "So you are human."

"Then I suppose I am," was the man's answer.

Several minutes passed before the forest began to thin out and the house could be seen through the trees. Alfred excitedly pointed at it the moment he saw it.

"Oh, it's that one! That's the house!" He grinned up at the man. "Thank you for helping, mister!"

Their hands parted. "I hope your mother will appreciate those flowers. Be careful next time, understand?"

"I will!" Alfred shouted behind him, already running towards the house excitedly.

By the time he turned around after his mother had tightly embraced him in a storm of worry and a long string of scolding, he saw nothing but endless green. It would be four more years until he saw that man again.

Chapter Text

By the time Alfred returned to visit his cousin again, he was eight. Anything before his sixth birthday was more of a dream than a memory, and any memory of that strange man from the forest was a dream forgotten.

Early one afternoon while both sets of parents were out of the house, Alfred was dragging his cousin out the back door excitedly. But the younger boy was insistent that they stay indoors.

"Al, let go! Mom said to watch over the house," he complained. "We need to stay in the house!"

When his cousin managed to pull his hand free, Alfred turned to him in exasperation. "Aw c'mon, Mattie, don't be such a goody-two-shoes. Who says we can't watch the house from outside? It's too hot to stay inside! Isn't it way better out here?"

Alfred walked down the stairs of the deck and skipped towards the edge of the forest, stretching his arms out and spinning in a circle. Inhaling deeply, he relished the fresh, earthy breeze that came from the forest. It carried the cooling moistness of the summer shade with it.

Matthew followed his cousin down the stairs and eyed him disapprovingly. "What's going to happen when our parents come back and see that we're not there anymore? They're going to get really mad!"

"No, they won't," Alfred easily brushed it off. "We'll stay right here so they can see us through the windows once they're back. That way they can't say we weren't watching the house."

Matthew crossed his arms. "You say that now but you're going to end up going into the forest, aren't you?"

"No..." A pause. "Okay, maybe I will. But that's because I wanna go exploring! I don't have a forest back at my house. Just a lot of yard."

"Al, don't you remember what your mom said last time? You can't go in there unless an adult's with you! You got lost the last time you went in there, and we almost called the police!"

"That's 'cause I was little, Mattie. I'm a big boy now! Even Mom said so."

"But she still didn't give you permission to go by yourself."

"I won't get lost!" Alfred insisted, already eagerly taking a few steps into the forest, wandering off the path curiously. "And I'll stay right around here! I won't go too far. C'mon, Mattie! Come with me!"

"No, Alfred."

"Aw, Mattie!" Alfred whined.

"I said no! I don't want to get in trouble!"

"You never want to get in trouble," Alfred huffed, bending down to pick up a large stick. "That's why you're so boring."

Hurt, Matthew's face scrunched up. "I'm not boring! You're just a rule breaker!"

"Whatever. I'm going in whether you want to or not." Alfred climbed over a fallen tree trunk and started to follow the path, whacking the taller bushes around with his stick.

"Alfred, c'mon, don't do this!" his cousin called after him. 

Alfred ignored him and kept walking.

"Alfred!"

But Alfred pressed forward, stubbornly refusing to acknowledge his cousin's cries. His cousin's voice grew further and further away with every step, and soon, he was completely out of range and the house was no longer visible. Now that he processed the serene silence, Alfred couldn't help but feel slightly scared that he was completely alone. Most of him had expected Mattew to come after him.

"I'll just stay here for a little bit longer, that's all. Then I'll go back. I won't get lost as long as I'm on this path," he convinced himself.

Deciding that he'd keep walking until he reached the end before turning back, Alfred set forward. Just to stick it to Matthew in some childish way of getting back at him, Alfred made sure to take his time. Once he got past the initial fear, all that was left was amazement. There wasn't much greenery back where he lived. Not like this, at least. Nothing made him bubble in happiness more than being able to submerge himself in this city of trees. The old trees with fat trunks that seemed to stretch endlessly towards the sky; the blossoming canopy that blanketed him and turned the sunlight into freckles on the forest floor made his heart giddy. 

After what felt like seconds, Alfred reached the end of the path. The flat, walked-on dirt faded off and headed straight into a giant tree. Beyond that was chaos that looked much to monstrous to be defeated by a boy and his stick.

Alfred huffed. He didn't want to go back yet, but he wasn't being presented with much of a choice. He was going to be in serious trouble otherwise and he didn't want to risk seriously getting lost. With an unwilling drag of his feet, Alfred turned to head back.

But just then, he heard a rustle to the side of him. Snapping his head to the sound, Alfred couldn't believe what he saw.

It was a...bunny? Or at least, it looked like a bunny.

But this bunny was green.

And it had wings.

Alfred slowly moved towards it like a moth to a flame, trying to silence his footsteps. It was quickly very obvious that his attempts were useless, however, because the creature immediately looked up from its resting spot on a fallen tree and saw the human approaching it. Alarmed, it took off.

Alfred immediately dropped his stick and began to run after it.

Despite how tangled he got from all the stray branches and how many times he slipped on moss, Alfred continued to pursue the strange animal. Deeper and deeper into the forest he went, watching the bunny hop further and further away from his sight. Around him, the trees grew in height and size, with trunks thick enough for a ring of people to surround its base. The forest floor became uneven with hills and ditches, dislocated and angular with rocks and roots.

It was only after Alfred finally lost sight of the creature did he stop to catch his breath...and realize just how lost he really was. Nothing looked familiar. It was practically another world. The landscape resembled nothing like the one back at the house.

The noises, especially, sent shivers up Alfred's spine. Swallowing nervously, Alfred tiptoed around the area.

"H-Hello? Bunny?" he called out. "Come out, please?" 

It only took a few more tries before the panic started to settle in. Desperation lodged a stone in his throat and choked the air out of his lungs. Tears came down in streams as Alfred screamed into the silence.

"Anyone there?! Hello?! Anyone?! Someone please come find me," he sobbed, vision blurred by tears. "Someone help me! Please—!"

"Lost again, little one?"

Alfred snapped his head in the direction of the voice.

A pale man sat on one of the giant tree roots that protruded out from the ground several feet away from him. Even from that distance, Alfred could see the man's bright green eyes intently observing him.

Utterly relieved that he wasn't alone anymore, Alfred ran towards the stranger but at a speed too quick for a body still caught up in a turmoil of emotions. Tripping over his own feet, Alfred lost his balance, fell, and landed flat on his face. 

"Well, aren't you a clumsy one?"

The voice, much closer now, startled Alfred into looking up from his position on the ground.

And then the forest met the sky.

Any words or thoughts or tears immediately vanished as the man's gaze swept over Alfred while he knelt over him, engulfing Alfred in a strange sense of familiar security and comfort. They almost glowed as Alfred watched the colours swirl around like a dance.

"You gave my friend quite the scare," the man said, snapping Alfred out of his reverie, as he pointed a thumb over his shoulder.

Using his eyes to follow in the direction the man was pointing, Alfred saw the green bunny curiously peeking at them from behind a tree root.

"You!" Alfred exclaimed excitedly, scrambling to get up but flopping back down with a groan at his still-aching body.

The green bunny made a strange, musical sound that vaguely sounded like surprise and flew away, disappearing into the air. Alfred watched it go in disappointment but was relieved he hadn't been hallucinating after all. 

The man scoffed above him. "I can't believe you chased him this far into the forest without realizing the consequences. I don't know whether to be impressed or concerned at your lack of awareness."

Standing up, he offered out a hand and Alfred took it without hesitation. For some reason, the action felt like deja vu, but the thought was gone before Alfred even realized he had it.

"Come on then," the man said. "I'll take you back home."

"You know where my house is?" Alfred asked, dusting himself off.

The man studied the boy, something akin to humour glinting in his eyes. "I have an idea."

"Huh, okay," was Alfred's brilliant reply. 

Alfred silently followed him for a few minutes, distracted by the leaves circling and rolling away from the man's feet when he walked, before he recovered enough of his usual self to start asking questions.

"So...were you lost too?"

The man laughed softly. "Child, do I look like I'm lost?"

Alfred examined him up and down, taking in his appearance. "You're almost naked," he bluntly pointed out, noting that the man wore nothing except something that resembled a cloth around his waist.

"True," the man replied, "but I believe it's you humans who are usually too overdressed. Humans are born naked, are you not?"

Alfred scrunched up his nose. "I guess, but it'd be weird if people went around naked. Pretty sure the police would come to get you too."

Another soft laugh.

"So you're not lost?" Alfred confirmed.

"No, I'm not."

"Then what are you doing out here?" he pressed.

"I'm always out here," was the odd reply. 

Alfred didn't know how to follow up on that except with a noncommital, "Oh."

As the two made progress along the forest floor, Alfred found it strange that they hadn't really made any turns. Nor was the land as uneven as Alfred remembered. Studying the area around him carefully, he could've sworn he saw the bushes and roots moving out of their way as they walked through. It was hard to see properly since the tall stature of the man leading him blocked most of his view in front, but it almost looked as if the earth was rising or flattening out to make their journey much more level than it should've been. The movement was always a flicker of a second but it happened so often, Alfred convinced himself it was real.

But before Alfred could think too hard, they soon arrived in familiar territory and the path Alfred knew so well was in sight. The man stopped just before the last layer of trees cleared and turned to the boy.

"I'm sure you know the way from here?"

Alfred nodded, relief flooding through him.

"Good. I'll take my leave then." 

"Wait!" Alfred called out as the man turned to walk back into the depths of the forest. But when the man stopped and looked back at him, Alfred realized he had nothing to say. Still, for some reason, things felt unfinished, and he didn't want the man to leave yet.

"Yes?" the man asked, a thick eyebrow lifting at his blank stare.

"W-What's your name?" Alfred forced out. 

Surprise briefly washed over the man's pale face before it turned into a guarded look. Cautious. Then sad. Those brilliant eyes darkened for a split second before they cleared again as the man seemed to come to terms with something.

"Arthur," he eventually answered. "My name is Arthur."

"Oh!" Alfred felt himself grin. "My name's Alfred."

Arthur smiled softly in acknowledgement like he already knew what the boy was going to tell him. "Better hurry home then, Alfred. Don't want to be in more trouble than you already are, hm?"

Realization suddenly hit him and the previous relief of recognizing familiar territory was washed out by a whole new level of fear that made his blood run cold. "They're going to kill me," Alfred gasped.

Seeing the blood drain from Alfred's face, Arthur's soft smile turned into a rather sharp smirk as he clicked his tongue. "Humans. Always so dramatic." He turned to go, giving Alfred a small wave. "Save yourself the trouble and don't get lost a third time, alright?"

With a blink, and before Alfred to think of a response, Arthur was gone. It wasn't until Alfred was halfway home did he realize something strange. 

"A third time?" he mused. "When did I meet him the first time?"

Chapter Text

Alfred heard his earpiece beep with an incoming call and glanced at his cell phone propped up near his car's radio. A picture of his cousin's face was displayed on the screen and Alfred winced.

He tapped to answer. "Hey, Mattie, what's up?" he asked cheerfully.

An exasperated sigh came from the other end. "Don't 'what's up' me, Al. You're late. By fifteen minutes!"

"Aw c'mon, relax! It's only fifteen minutes. I'm almost there, I swear."

"Yeah, well, everyone's been here for over an hour now and their patience is running low so you better hurry."

Alfred snorted as he turned a corner. "Their fault for always showing up so damn early. Do those ol' farts have nothing better to do with their lives?"

"Oh, and you do?"

"Of course! I'm a busy man, Mattie."

"Right, because stopping at Tims for coffee and donuts when you were already running late was totally a good idea," Matthew scoffed. "That really shows the company what a busy man you are. You'll be lucky if they even let you expense it."

"Think of it as a peace offering to the ol' farts. Besides, you guys don't have Dunkin' Donuts here and I need my coffee. Not to mention," he lulled, grinning, "I got you your share as well."

"Don't try to butter me up, Al, I know your tricks..."

Alfred gave him an extra three seconds.

"Did you at least get me the maple donut with my coffee?"

Alfred glanced at his passenger seat where said donut was. "But of course! Anything for my favourite cousin!"

Matthew snorted. "I'm your only cousin."

"True. But still my favourite."

"Save your flattery for your clients, Al. And hurry your ass up before I run out of excuses to give them."

Alfred saw his company's makeshift office appear down the road as he stopped at an intersection for a red light. "Yeah, yeah, I see you already. Just a block away. Don't worry, Matt, you'll be smelling that sweet maple and coffee goodness in no time."

"Great, I can taste it already," his cousin grunted. Alfred could almost hear him roll his eyes and laughed.

"Okay, I'm pulling up now. See you once I'm parked." Tapping his earpiece after his cousin confirmed, Alfred ended the call with a sigh. "Alright then. Time to kick ass."

"I'm glad you approve of our plan, Mr. Waiton," Alfred said as he put on his best smile for the balding man and his entourage of assistants and some business partners while opening the door for him.

"Well, you boys have impressed me," commented Mr. Waiton as he reached out a hand to shake. "I suppose the future of building development really does rest on you youngsters' shoulders."

Alfred gave a firm handshake. "That's not necessarily true. If you weren't willing to give us this land and fund this expansion we wouldn't be able to go anywhere! Not to mention you pitched in towards these designs as well."

"I suppose that's true," Mr. Waiton said, laughing. "I'll take credit where credit is due."

'Except it's really not,' Alfred thought bitterly as he joined in on the laughter as if they were the best of friends.

But even Alfred couldn't take much of the credit. In reality, Matthew did a huge portion of the final designs. All Alfred had to do was put things together to be marketable. But what's a business deal without heavily laying on the flattery to their clients? 

Matthew and the rest of Mr. Waiton's partners came outside to join them, wearing satisfied smiles that sickened Alfred's stomach. Good thing he already had his coffee this morning or else he wouldn't have even half the energy to deal with these money-hungry sharks.

"All done?" Alfred asked them.

"Everything's signed and copied," Matthew answered, nodding. Turning to Mr. Waiton, he made sure to wear his smile extra bright. "I once again thank you for your support with this project, Mr. Waiton, sir. I've given your assistant copies of all the plans and contracts. Everyone else has their proper copies as well."

Alfred grinned. "And I'd like to thank you all for your patience this morning. The traffic up here was just horrid!"

"Good thing you brought better coffee than what was being offered!" one of the partners said boisterously. 

Everyone was so busy laughing they missed the dirty look Matthew gave Alfred.

Mr. Waiton gave the boys a hard pat on the back, grinning. "Alright then, I guess it's time for us to head on back to the airport. I look forward to seeing all that you've put on paper in real life. Keep me updated, boys."

Matthew nodded. "Of course. If you have any questions or concerns, just give our head office a call and they'll connect you with us. Or, email us, although, it might take a few days for us to get back with the signal being so inconsistent out here."

After all the goodbyes were said and handshakes were given all around, the group of clients were officially seen off. As they disappeared down the road in their hired airport limo, Alfred turned his back to them and let out a very loud, disgruntled sigh, smile dropping off his face like an anchor.

"Thank God, they're gone," he moaned, rubbing his face underneath his glasses. "Why do these things always take the full day?"

Matthew gave his cousin a sympathetic smile. "Considering how greedy he is, I'm surprised you got him to agree to give us 60 percent of the earnings. That's huge for the company, Al."

"He only agreed because I offered him a deal of having ridiculously discounted expenses for future projects," Alfred pointed out. 

"But more than half, Al, it's practically unheard of in our industry," Matthew insisted.

Alfred smiled as they walked back towards the office. "Well, I wasn't going to let him just give us 10 percent of the cut, even if my life depended on it. Still can't believe he started off with that offer. We've worked our asses off to get to this point and I don't want us to just get a measly 10 percent of the glory and profit. Especially when the only thing that man does is shit out money in the first place."

"But he is the one investing in this project, so of course he'd want to get something out of it," Matthew pointed out.

"Oh, he will." Alfred assured, opening the door for his cousin and walking in after him. "All 40 percent of it."

After dinner, Alfred plopped down onto his cousin's sofa, sighing contentedly as he took in a gulp of beer. "It's always nice to come back here. Thanks for letting me stay over as always, Matt."

"You don't need to thank me every time," Matthew laughed, putting leftovers into the fridge. "It's not like I'm going to make you stay in a hotel when our project's right here in my hometown."

"True," Alfred agreed, absent-mindedly swishing his beer loosely in his hand. "Not good for the company's expenses," he joked.

Matthew grabbed his own beer and sat down on the loveseat across from his cousin. "Flight go okay?"

Alfred shrugged. "Nothing exciting. Landed earlier than expected this morning."

"Hence the Tims and your so-called traffic jam?"

"Exactly," Alfred winked, taking another swig of his beer. Swallowing, he looked around. "This place hasn't changed much, huh?"

"You mean the house? Yeah, well there's not much to change. Mom and Dad had it all going for them and I never complained. I'm lucky to have it after they downsized for retirement." Matthew paused in thought. "Well, there's the occasional repair of the patio deck and stuff but that's all I've ever needed to do, really."

Alfred nodded, appreciating the interior of the wooden house. Its high ceiling and strong banisters looked like it stretched on forever above them. The kitchen, living room, and dining room all blended into each other on the first floor, softened with rustic rugs and filled with polished furniture. To the side of the house were the stairs to the second floor, a space big enough to have a reading area on the landing before travelling down a hallway to the bedrooms. Family photos and carefully purchased local art filled up every wall. 

Smiling fondly at the memories that resurfaced from eyeing up the house, Alfred set down his empty beer can, stretched out his arms, and let them fall behind his head to cradle it as he continued looking around. A soft bird cry made him turn his attention to the doors leading to the patio. With the sun on its way into the horizon for the evening, the trees cast orange shadows to the ground as they stretched towards them into the house. Seeing the hazy green gave Alfred a sudden urge to dive straight into it.

"Say, Mattie, how about going for a walk before the sun completely sets?"

His cousin raised his eyebrows. "In the forest?"

"Duh."

"But it's getting late."

"What, you scared of the dark?"

Rolling his eyes, Matthew got up to his feet. "Fine, let's go. But I'm taking my beer with me."

Chapter Text

"You really cleaned up the path, huh?" Alfred asked as they walked down the dirt road.

The dirt path had been there ever since they were children, but under Matthew's ownership of the house, the path had been extended further into the forest and polished up over the years. No longer a foot-treaded split in the grass, Matthew had taken some power tools to shape it into a clean gravel walkway. 

"Yeah, I just thought it'd be easier to get to the construction site whenever I don't feel like driving," Matthew said as he took a swig of beer. "And the walks were getting too short for a big buy like me."

The cousins passed the giant tree that used to mark the end of the original path. The way its hanging branches now drooped over the new path made Alfred think it looked like an entranceway.

"Man, I feel like it's been forever since I've been here," Alfred said, taking in a deep breath of dewy air.

"Well technically, you came by last month," Matthew pointed out.

"Dude, that was for one day. And it was only to confirm the construction site you've already planned out. So actually, I haven't been back here in almost," Alfred paused to calculate. "Eighteen years! "

"Things look pretty different around here, huh?"

"Tell me about it. Who would've thought this tiny town would need this much development and expansion?" Alfred laughed. "But then again, it's been eighteen years. Everywhere else has changed too."

"Eighteen years was all it took for the population here to almost triple. This 'tiny' town needs an expansion or else it's going to burst," joked Matthew while finishing the rest of his drink.

The men walked on for another quarter of an hour before coming across a large, wire fence. A bright orange sign was tied to it, with the words 'CONSTRUCTION IN PROGRESS' printed on its surface. Smaller signs outlining the details and dates of the project framed its sides.

Alfred walked off the gravel and waded through the bushes to get closer to the fence. He whistled lowly as he looked over the map. "Can't get over how much we're going to cut down," he sighed as he saw the tractors posed in the distance.

Matthew came to join him. "What, having regrets? It was your idea to use this forest for the project in the first place."

"I only did it because there's so much potential! Think about how much it'll boost the town's economy. It's social worth. And the aesthetic; think about the aesthetic! People are all about the gigantic trees and lakes nowadays." Alfred wildly gestured around him to point it out to his cousin. "If people don't want to live here, they'll sure as hell want to vacation here."

"If that's the case, why do you sound so reluctant? Your guilty conscience coming up?"

"Yeah. No! I mean...Kind of." Alfred sighed, running a hand through his hair. "The beauty of this place is what makes it so marketable, but you can't help but feel guilty when you need to cut down so much of it."

"I think it's mostly because this place has sentimental value for you," Matthew said.

"Yeah, there's that too." Alfred shrugged. "I guess it...feels a little weird still. I know the rest of the world is changing but for some reason, it's like I expected everywhere but here to change."

Seeing how oddly disheartened his cousin was, Matthew sighed wistfully and gave him a hard slap to the back. "Cheer up, eh? Remember why we're in development in the first place."

Alfred gave him a little, and somewhat pained, smile. "To make the world a better place?"

Matthew nodded. "Everything we're doing is for the people and to help make their lives better, right? More housing options."

Alfred didn't look super convinced but nodded. "Right."

"And it's not like we're trying to be inconsiderate," Matthew continued. "We take pride that our company tries to develop as environmentally friendly as we can, don't we? That's why all the designs took so long and why we're using the newest machines that produce the least amount of carbon."

"Yeah," Alfred said, standing a little more proudly. "Yeah, I guess that's true."

"So there's nothing to feel guilty about. It's all a bit inevitable, after all. if we don't build it, someone else will. In worse ways."

"Inevitable..." Alfred echoed.

He thought back to his teenage years when he and Matthew first decided to pursue a career in this industry. They were both painfully aware that the population was only going to continue to grow, and companies would need to develop further into protected lands to make room for everyone. To make the world a better place had been their raw motivation and it had been enough to push them towards where they were today. But that didn't stop them from learning more about how it could be done without destroying the natural beauty the world had to offer. And Matthew was right about the competition. As the person in charge of most of the client-facing work, Alfred knew all about how tough it was to secure projects in the past few years. They were lucky that Matthew could advertise his home turf knowledge to give them a huge advantage over the others. 

Feeling considerably better, Alfred smiled at his cousin. "Thanks, Mattie. Where would I be without you?"

Matthew snorted. "Well, for one, unemployed."

"Fair point."

Chuckling, Matthew glanced up at the darkening sky before turning back to Alfred. "So is your midlife crisis over? Can we go home now?"

Alfred smirked. "You think you're so funny, don't you?"

"Oh, I know I'm funny," replied Matthew. "But clients prefer your humour, unfortunately. C'mon, let's go before it gets too dark to see. I didn't even bring my phone."

"Nah, don't worry. I have mine." Alfred followed. "And I charged it this time too."

They only took a few steps back where they came when a strong, forceful wind suddenly blew through the darkening forest. It violently shook the branches and filled the silence with deafening dissonance, pushing against the wood hard enough for the thick trunks to creak and sway around them. Alfred braced against the impact, shielding his face with both of his arms as a cacophony of whispers and sighs rang in his ear. They sounded angry. Anxious. 

But a second later, the forest fell back into silence.

The two men straightened up and Matthew readjusted his glasses. "What a strong wind. Wonder if a storm's coming."

"You didn't hear all that?" Alfred asked. 

"Hear what?"

"Whispering?" 

Matthew frowned. "No?"

"...Huh, okay," Alfred said, looking around. "Weird." 

Matthew shook his head at his cousin. "Alright, bedtime for you. Let's go."

Alfred followed, but he couldn't quite shake off the feeling that, within the whispers that flooded his ear, there had been a distinct voice that whispered 'Alfred' as soft and smooth as the forest leaves.

It was almost right at the crack of dawn when Alfred got a call. Groaning after he hung up, Alfred quickly got dressed and went to wake up his cousin who was none too happy to be shaken awake so early.

"What d'ya want?" Matthew grumbled.

"Matt, get dressed. Something happened at the construction site."

Hearing the serious tone made Matthew open his eyes. "Bad?"

Alfred quirked his mouth to the side, unsure. "Sort of. More weird than bad."

Frowning, Matthew got out of bed. "What kind of answer is that?" he mumbled, more to himself than Alfred.

"I'll explain more on the road," replied Alfred anyway. "Just get dressed."

Getting out a clean shirt, Matthew sighed. "And I was having such a good dream too."

"Let me guess, it involved maple syrup?"

"Not this time. I had a polar bear cub or something for a pet. And it could talk."

"Oh, that's cool."

"Yeah," Matthew casually agreed. "But for some reason, it just couldn't remember my name." He shrugged. "Weird."

Laughing, Alfred followed his cousin out and down the stairs once he was dressed. "Let's just hope whatever happened at the site isn't as weird as your dream."

"Agreed."

Pressing on the gas pedal a little stronger than he usually did, Alfred drove them up to the construction site in record time. As he was let into the closed-off area, he could already see the confusion floating around them. All the construction workers, dressed in their fluorescent uniforms and heavy boots, were clustered around the machines. Those lingering further away whispered among themselves with frowns on their faces.

"It better be just a mechanical issue or something," Matthew mumbled upon seeing the large group of workers.

Alfred grimaced. "I don't think they'd call us in for that reason."

After parking in the designated area, the two men walked towards the largest cluster, searching for the man in charge.

"Alfred! Matthew!"

"Tino!" Alfred waved at the man making his way through the crowd. "What happened?"

"It's the machines," the small Finnish man explained. His face echoed the concern that plagued the rest of the staff. "All the fuel's gone! Someone must have emptied it last night."

"They're all gone?" Alfred exclaimed.

"Why not use the ones in storage?" asked Matthew.

Tino shook his head. "When I say 'all the fuel' I mean all the fuel. Even the barrels we brought here for backup are completely drained."

"How's that possible?" Alfred asked.

"That's the problem. We don't know."

Matthew frowned. "What do you mean, you don't know? Did you not look through the surveillance?"

"We tried," Tino sighed. "Nothing turned up. Not a single person showed up on the footage."

Alfred couldn't believe it. "Show us."

Tino nodded and gestured them to the mobile office. Then he turned to the crowd and shouted, "Go take a break, everyone, you're on stand-by! We'll call you once everything's ready!"

A chorus of "Yes, boss!" answered him and Tino led the cousins on. Entering the mobile office, Tino booted up his laptop while Matthew sighed and looked outside the windows at the dormant machines.

"It'll take a few days to get enough fuel to power these things," Matthew grumbled. "Didn't think we'd have delays on the first day."

Alfred was right there with him. His brain was already coming up with potential solutions and excuses to tell their sponsors if word got out.

"Here it is," Tino announced and they all eagerly turned to the computer screen.

But unfortunately, just like Tino said, not a single person was seen trespassing. Even with the night vision turned on, nothing was detected.

"Fuck, what a nightmare," groaned Alfred, rubbing a hand over his face before readjusting his glasses. "Tino, how many cameras were active?"

"Nine, I believe."

"Could you send me the footage? I'll take a closer look at them back home. Fuel can't just suddenly disappear like that."

Nodding, Tino clicked around on the touchpad. "I'll do that right now."

"Good. I'll head back to the main office and make some calls to try and get more fuel in from somewhere." Alfred turned to his cousin. "Matt, can you stay behind and direct the workers to start lining up the night lights and spotlights ahead of time? That, and set up anything else they'll need? Even if we can't start the actual construction, they can do the set up in the meanwhile so they're not just idling."

"Sure thing," Matthew agreed without hesitation. 

"Footage has been sent," Tino said. 

Alfred heard his phone beep at the sound of Tino's email and nodded. "Thanks. Let's hope we can find the source of this problem before the next batch of fuel comes in. Last thing we need is for this to happen again."

Chapter Text

That night, Alfred was determined to find a lead to the missing fuel and vowed not to sleep until he went through all the camera footage from the construction site.

All nine cameras, each with a whole night's worth of footage.

"You're going to end up passing out," Matthew warned from the kitchen sink where he was washing up the dishes. The moment they had gotten home, Alfred had planted himself on the couch and stared hard at his laptop screen. The Canadian sighed from his cousin's lack of response. "Can you even hear me right now?"

Alfred grunted, eyes not leaving the screen as he watched the footage in x4 speed.

Matthew dryly laughed. "I have to say, it's so rare of you to be so quiet. Usually, you never shut up. Guess I'll have to enjoy this while it lasts."

"You're just full of laughs these days, aren't you?" Alfred grumbled sarcastically. His blue eyes, now a ghostly colour from the screen, continued to scan across the footage.

"I'm always full of laughs, remember?" Matthew closed the taps and dried off his hands. "Want me to make some coffee for you?"

"Sure."

Matthew rolled his eyes. "You're welcome."

Alfred softly laughed as he paused the footage, finally showing signs of life as he shifted slightly to glance over at his cousin. "Thanks, Matt," he said sincerely.

Shaking his head at his hopeless cousin, Matthew smiled back anyway. "Hey, do you think what happened this morning involved the town protesters?"

Alfred frowned. "I thought we already settled that problem last year."

Shrugging, Matthew started the coffee machine. "Officially we did."

"Signed an agreement and everything, right?"

"Right. But it's always possible that there could be an odd one out who's especially against the project and went out of their way to botch the machines."

"What, some kind of vigilante?"

"Just a guess."

Stretching, Alfred nodded. "Well, considering how heated things got last year before the official meetings started, I wouldn't be surprised if that was the case. But if it was a protester, they would've showed up on camera. Tino didn't see anything."

"He only quickly scanned them over so he could've missed something," Matthew pointed out, walking across the floor to lean up against the couch.

"True. Which is why I'm going over them again."

"Why not just ask Tino to do it again?"

"Nah, I'd rather do it myself."

"Why? Can't sleep unless you're the first to find out what happened?"

"Exactly." Alfred grinned.

"I can't understand how you can be so diligent." Matthew watched the screen over Alfred's shoulder for a few seconds before he grunted in surrender and went to walk up the stairs. "Well, you do best then. I'll be upstairs if you need me. Yell if you find anything."

"Yes, boss," Alfred snickered.

"Don't forget to get some sleep, okay?"

"Matt, it's only one all-nighter. Not like we've never had them before. I'll survive. Go dream about your polar bear and maple syrup." Alfred shooed at him with a hand. After a few more final exchanges and early good-night's, Matthew went upstairs and left Alfred to his work.

Getting comfortable on the couch, Alfred put up his feet and placed his laptop on his lap. "Alright, let's get back into it."

By now, he had already finished going through the cameras watching over the entrances and exits of the construction site to see. All that was left were the cameras near some of the perimeter fences. But after a few more hours and barely half of the footage examined, Alfred still couldn't find anything. When the sky began to lighten with signs of dawn, Alfred was about ready to scratch his eyes out.

"Just what am I missing?" Alfred gritted out. "Oil can't just disappear into thin air like that. Someone must have taken it." 

When Matthew came down the stairs in the morning, Alfred was still glued to the screen, a determined frown still plastered on his face.

"How did it go? Did you find anything?" Matthew asked. But really, he already knew the answer judging by the look on Alfred's face.

"Nothing," Alfred groaned. "Not a goddamn thing. But I still have two more cameras left to look at."

Matthew moved to the coffeemaker and noted that it hadn't been touched since last night. Looks like Alfred had been too absorbed to even get up for a single cup. He poured himself one and put it in the microwave.

"You really think you're going to find something?" Matthew questioned doubtfully.

Alfred quickly shot him a look and went back to watching the screen. "Doesn't hurt to try," he grumbled.

Matthew sighed but he didn't argue. Getting his coffee out from the microwave, he went to sit beside his cousin and passed over a bottle of eye drops. Alfred paused the footage and took it like a drowning man who found a piece of driftwood.

"Planning to go to the office today?" Matthew asked. 

"Probably not." Alfred paused. "Well, might go pick up some plans but I'll definitely drop by the site again."

"Going to play investigator?" Matthew teased.

"Might as well," Alfred said, chuckling. "Besides, the company has you to be in charge if I'm not there. You get along with everyone better than I do anyway. And even if we call the police, it's not like they'll do any better."

"But they have several people. You're only one person."

"You're underestimating me, Mattie." Alfred winked at him while stealing a sip from his cousin's coffee. "But I gotta finish this up before going. I'll see you for dinner tonight?"

"Should we order take-out? Or are you willing to cook tonight?"

"Take-out all the way. There's that new hamburger joint that opened in town I want to try."

"Hamburgers. Of course." Matthew surrendered his coffee over to his cousin and went back upstairs to change out of his sleepwear. "Well, hopefully, you'll find some helpful clues, Investigator Jones."

"I will for sure. Didn't you know? I'm the best investigator in town!"

Alfred managed to make it to the site around noon. And with the new information he discovered in mind, he practically sped there.

Walking hurriedly past the main site entrance, Alfred greeted everyone with a smile and an occasional nod. Luckily, everyone was on their lunch break, which meant he had access to all the machines (which were still useless and fuel-less in their designated corner). Unluckily, everyone was on their lunch break.

As a person, he had no qualms about giving a break to people who usually gave their all during their company's other projects. But as a business owner, it nagged at him that all of this would still be billed to the company.

But in their defence, it's not like they had any other choice, which irritated Alfred even more.

"Hey, Tino! I'm just gonna look around for a bit, that okay?" he called out to the Finnish man going over some plans with his co-workers.

Tino looked up. "Oh, yeah! Sure thing! Let me know if you find anything."

Alfred held up a thumbs-up and quickly entered the main site area, away from the gathering of construction workers.

He actually did find something on the footage this morning. He just purposely didn't tell anyone that he did because he knew they wouldn't believe him - not even Matthew.

Especially not Matthew. He only believed in realistic answers after all.

Not to mention, Alfred was still struggling to come to terms with himself, honestly.

Making his way up the hill to the furthest corner of the site took Alfred a good ten minutes. He could no longer hear the grumble of numerous men. He could only see tiny specks of their orange vests in the distance. Right at the edge of the forest, walking a little further in would take Alfred to where he and Matthew were two nights ago at the end of their leisure path. Alfred glanced up at the security camera a few feet above him on the fence, positioned in such a way that it pointed towards the open construction site and had the row of machines at the bottom of the hill just at the edge of the screen.

"Other than me, no one's been up here yet." Alfred looked down around his feet, checking for tracks. "If that's the case then there should be...something leftover..." He took a step up towards the forest. "Ah. Found it."

Imprinted in the dirt was what looked like a print from a large snake or a hose. Large enough for Alfred to wrap both hands around it, the drag marks seemed to come from inside the forest, appearing on and off until it slid down the hill towards the machines. But if Alfred's eyes served him correctly, what he saw in the footage this morning proved that it was neither a snake or a hose, but a tree vine.

A moving tree vine.

Alfred had to rewind the footage for what felt like a hundred times to verify that he wasn't just hallucinating from lack of sleep, but after the 101th time, he was certain that the tree vine he saw in the corner of the camera was real and was indeed a moving tree vine.

Alfred knelt down to examine the tracks better. "They're not exactly smooth..." he murmured, taking in the scratchy texture of the drag marks. "Now the question is, where did all the fuel go?" Glancing into the forest, he decided to follow the prints. They were sure to lead somewhere.

Carefully, Alfred climbed the metal fence and continued to walk deeper into the forest, following the occasional tracks here and there in the dirt.

"Tree vine or not, someone's gotta be behind all this," Alfred thought out loud, trying to convince himself. "If I at least find out where all the fuel went, I can at least go back saying I solved a piece of the puzzle. The last thing I want to do is go back empty-handed."

And Alfred really did want to turn back already. Following what seemed like an endless trail of drag marks, he was beginning to lose track of just how long he had been walking. The more he followed, the deeper into the forest he went. Looking up and around, Alfred found himself swallowed in green. It was as if nothing else existed outside the singular mirage of colour. The intervals of birds and critters were the only sounds to remind Alfred he was still sane, because other than wildlife, all sound had been absorbed into the green. If he pinpointed his senses hard enough, Alfred felt as if he was at high altitude, a strange pressure on his ears and a haze coating his brain.

He glanced behind him. He couldn't even see the fence anymore.

"I mean, just because I think I saw a tree vine and the tracks match up doesn't necessarily mean it actually was a moving tree vine or something," Alfred muttered under his breath.

Looking at where the tracks disappeared into the endless forest, Alfred suddenly wasn't sure if continuing alone would be a good idea. Pulling out his cell phone, he looked up his cousin's number only to find out that there was no signal. Cursing at himself and at the forest that's robbed him of service, Alfred decided to head back for today. It'd be better to come back tomorrow rather than get lost now with no cellphone service.

"Maybe I was hallucinating after all," he grumbled to himself. "I'll go back and check the cameras again."

But as turned to go, a cold shiver ran up his spine and he couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching him. Hoping to catch whoever it was off guard, Alfred whipped around.

"Who's there?" he shouted.

No answer.

"Come out!" he tried again.

But nothing happened.

A few seconds of waiting later, Alfred felt his fear turn back into frustration. The feeling of being watched hadn't gone away and it had settled into his skin long enough that all Alfred wanted to do was to get rid of it.

"I don't know who you are, but if you're responsible for taking our oil then you better show yourself and answer for your actions." Alfred's eyes continued searching for movement but none came. Not even a sound.

By now, normal people would've just left it like that and walked away. A normal person could only last so long shouting into a silent forest at nothing in particular. But Alfred wasn't normal. He was a grade-A, stubborn-ass mule - arguably even more so than the average person - who believed in his gut more than anything. And right now, his gut was telling him something - or someone - was out there.

"I just want to talk. Maybe we can sort something out. But if you don't show yourself, I plan to bring a whole team the next time I come back. Don't think they'll be as nice as me when we find you," he warned. 

Then he waited.

A second...

Two seconds...

Three seconds...

Alfred counted to ten before finally letting it go with a sigh. But before he could even straighten himself up to walk back to the site, an accented voice spoke to him from the darkness of the green, echoing all around him like wind.

"I don't believe you're in the position to be threatening me, Alfred, but yes. Let's talk. It certainly has been a while."

Chapter Text

Alfred looked around, trying to pinpoint a direction.

The voice let out a deep chuckle and practically purred. "I never said I'd show myself. I merely said we could talk. That was what you wanted, wasn't it?"

Alfred frowned, not appreciating the teasing. "Don't twist my words. Stop playing games and show yourself. It's not fair that you can see me but I can't see you."

"Not fair, you say?" A giant gust of wind rushed through the forest as the voice turned sour, bouncing around him in circles. "Walking into my territory and spewing threats is not fair. Cutting down my home and claiming ownership over it is not fair. Seeing humans act selfishly and not being able to do anything is not fair." The trees groaned as if in agreement - a chorus of misery as they bent in the wind. "I hardly see how choosing not to reveal my form is in any way unfair to a human like you."

The wind continued to howl. Alfred had to use his arms to shield his eyes from the debris. Part of him immediately regretted his choice of words, especially when he had already suspected that he was dealing with some kind of supernatural entity, but another part of him was slightly pissed off that this guy was being so sensitive.

But before he could get another word out, the wind suddenly died down and it gradually settled back into sleep as if it was changing its mind from tossing Alfred off the ground. When the voice came again, it came from above him.

"But I suppose it would be unfair of me to lash out at you. It's not your fault humans aren't aware of our existence."

Alfred looked up.

And he stared, spellbound.

The male smirked from his spot up in the tree. "Is there really a need to look so surprised? This wouldn't be the first time you've seen me in this form, after all."

Alfred had a bunch of questions raging around in his head all at once. Too many questions. And with too many questions, it meant he was likely to ask the wrong one. So he desperately tried to sort through them all to find something that'd be useful.

Unfortunately, he ended up sputtering, "B-But this is the first time we've met?" Alfred was sure he wouldn't forget seeing someone with leaves growing out from their body.

The other male grimaced, looking quite disappointed with the answer. "It appears you've forgotten me." He pushed himself off the branch and landed on the forest floor without a sound. "But then again, you were but a child when you last visited. Human children do tend to have fleeting memories."

When their eyes met, Alfred felt an uncomfortable, nagging chill crawl down his spine. Those large, glowing eyes made Alfred feel like he was staring straight into the depths of the forest. The way that unwavering gaze studied him. Judged him.

Swallowed him.

Any longer and he might drown.

So Alfred forced his tongue to work. "I-Is that how you know my name?"

"Yes," was the simple answer. "You were told mine as well, actually."

"Really?" Alfred shifted nervously. "I..."

"Don't remember?" 

Alfred thought the man sounded so hurt he instantly felt guilty despite the logical part of his brain telling him that he had no reason to. 

"No," Alfred admitted. "Sorry, but I can't remember you at all."

The male scrunched his nose in distaste. "Of course not," he said pointedly. "So, now that I'm here before you, what do you want? You've already heard my side."

Oh. Right. Alfred could've punched himself for forgetting the real reason why he trekked all the way here. "The company's fuel. You were the one who took it, right?"

"And what if I am?"

A little irked that there was no denial whatsoever, Alfred regained a bit of courage. "I suggest you give it back to us."

A snort. "Or what, you'll send your team after me? Is that what you said earlier?"

"I wasn't bluffing."

"Oh, I know you weren't. But do you really think they'll be able to do anything to me? Or that they'll even believe you if you tell them of my existence?"

Alfred gritted his teeth together. The guy was right. What would he tell them, that a ghost took the fuel? That it disappeared into the forest because someone willed it to happen?

"How did you take it anyway?" he asked.

"You tell me." Those green eyes glinted mischievously. "I made sure to be extra careful of not getting caught, but if you're here that could only mean you found something, did you not?"

"I did, but that doesn't mean I understand," Alfred admitted. "What, did you just use tree roots to suck up the fuel or something? A machine?"

"As if your machines mean anything to me. No, I took your precious fuel with my own two hands. Or rather, an extension of them."

As if to prove it, something rumbled out from the earth behind him, and Alfred couldn't believe his eyes.

Thick roots rose out of the ground around the man's bare feet, very much fluid and alive as they wriggled around. Feeling movement around his feet, Alfred yelped as he noticed some of those roots were making their way toward his feet. He quickly stepped away.

Through the panic in his brain, Alfred could hear the sound of laughter and shot the strange man in front of him a glare. So he was being played with, was he?

"So you used these roots to take the fuel?" he asked, trying to keep his voice level.

"A wise observation," came the smug reply. The man made a small hand motion and the roots backed away from Alfred's feet.

"So where did all that fuel go? Did you absorb it or something?"

"I did."

Alfred blinked. He hadn't expected his question to get an affirmative answer. "So...does that mean—?"

"Now that I've taken in the fuel, I'm afraid I can't just spit it back out." The man leaned against the tree he had previously been sitting on, looking slightly amused. "You're just going to have to come up with a clever way to prevent me from taking more fuel from you."

Alfred pursed his lips into a tight line and felt his hands clench. He didn't look like he was lying, which was a problem. "So, you're basically admitting that when we get the new shipment of fuel in, you're just going to take it again?"

The smile on the man's face grew as he stayed silent. His eyes gleamed and the green shades in his eyes swirled wickedly. 

Alfred felt his annoyance surge. "Why are you doing this?" he demanded.

The man's smile dropped and turned into a sneer. "And here I thought only human children are forgetful. Did you not hear what I said before?" He pushed his weight off of the tree and slowly walked towards Alfred. "This forest is my home. From the leaves that bud to the roots deep underground, everything you see is my territory."

"But there were no papers that—"

A laugh, crisp and deafening, cut Alfred off. "Do I look like someone who has anything to do with your human legalities? Do you really think I fall within the terms of the world you live in?"

He was closer now, and Alfred felt the urge to cower grow. The man didn't have a large build. His body was fairly slim when compared to Alfred's sturdier physique and he was slightly shorter too. But the sheer presence of wisdom and power radiating from that form made Alfred feel so terribly small. 

"Every tree you cut down. Every area of land you dig up and violate is mine," the man growled as he stopped barely a foot away from Alfred. The smile was gone and all that was left was a dark threat. "Remember this, Alfred. Until you and the rest of the humans leave here, I will stop at nothing to prevent your plans from continuing. By taking your fuel I have merely left you with a warning. If you value your safety as well as the safety of your workers, I suggest you end this silly project of yours while your lives are still intact."

Finding some semblance of courage, and maybe a hint of stupidity, Alfred stood his ground. "And if we don't?" he bit back.

There was a tense silence as they stared each other down, blue and green searching each other for answers.

To Alfred's relief, the man blinked first and backed away with a shrug. "Then you'd just be an idiot. You'd be endangering both the lives of your men as well as yourself." Before Alfred could answer, the man turned and started to walk away. "Enough talk. Looks like all my efforts are meaningless. I shouldn't have expected anything different from you. You're still a human, after all."

With the man's back turned to him, Alfred realized just how far from a human this figure really was. The leaves stemmed out from under his pale skin near the shoulders and small of his back. The greenish veins were visible in the thin areas at his wrists and the back of his knees. Just who - or what - exactly was he making his enemy? 

"Just what are you?" Alfred blurted.

The male stopped and turned to him, the pain on his face making Alfred's heart falter before it disappeared with a blink.

"I'm whatever you think I am."

Then the man vanished, leaving Alfred more conflicted and confused than ever. 

"---?"

"Ah, don't worry about me. I'm just tired."

"---?"

"The fuel, huh? Yes, it must be because of that. I thought I'd be able to handle it since it originally came from the earth, but the humans have done too much for this body to recognize it."

"---?"

"This land is not fit to contain any sort of fuel. I can't bear for the aquifers to be contaminated."

"---."

"No, I'll keep the rest within me and slowly cleanse it myself."

"---!"

He laughed weakly. "I won't disappear simply because I absorbed some fuel. I'm not that weak. The humans may have taken away a good chunk already but I won't give up. Not yet."

"---?"

"...That child has long forgotten me. As a human, it was hard enough for him to see creatures like us. But as an adult, his ability to see us has lessened even more so."

"---!"

"Oh, please," he scoffed. "He doesn't even remember my name."

"---?"

"I doubt there's an easy way about this. I tried to make him think otherwise, but he'll eventually figure out that he has the upper hand."

"---?"

"A deal is impossible. I want to give nothing and he wants everything."

"---!"

"And what does my life mean to him? Even if I die, he could care less about it."

"---."

"It just had to be him of all people." A long sigh and a wry laugh. "If I knew things would end up like this, I would've never helped him out of the forest all those years ago. At least I wouldn't feel so conflicted if it was someone else."

"..."

"I know, this is unbecoming. Perhaps I got too attached. That child was the first to see me in a very long time. You remember how it felt, didn't you? To be seen?"

"..."

"Forget it. I'm starting to ramble. This fuel is going to my head. Let me rest and I'll return to myself again in the morning."

Hesitantly, the little green bunny flew off.

Chapter Text

Things were peaceful for Alfred for the next few days. No strange whisperings. No having the feeling that someone was watching him every now and then. No strange being with vivid green eyes appearing out of thin air. Things were peaceful for almost a week.

But then the next shipment of fuel came in.

"Think it'll go missing again this time?" Matthew asked his cousin.

Alfred stared intently at the barrels being emptied into the machines. The smell of petrol hung pungent in the air and he forced himself to take shallow breaths. 

"It better not," he muttered.

"Did you figure out what happened last time anyway?"

There was an uncomfortable pause before he answered, "No." Matthew glanced at him and Alfred knew his cousin wasn't convinced.

"O-kay? Well, either way, we'll just have to increase the over-night security just in case."

"Sure," Alfred agreed.

"Better than nothing, right?"

"Right," he agreed again.

Matthew gave him another few seconds before letting out an exasperated sigh. "Okay, Al. Be honest with me. Did you find something out last time or what? Because you're giving off the feeling that you're hiding something."

Alfred flickered his eyes at his cousin briefly before looking away. He hesitated.

Finally, Alfred said, "You won't believe me even if I told you."

"So you are hiding something."

Alfred didn't respond.

"What happened last time?" Matthew asked seriously. "What did you find out?"

"You won't believe me," Alfred insisted.

"Try me."

"Let's just say...someone did take the oil," Alfred started off awkwardly.

"Seriously? Who was it? A protestor?"

"Um...not really." Alfred struggled to find the right words and shied away from the weird look his cousin was giving him. For someone who was great at smooth-talking clients, he was having an extremely difficult time finding the right words to explain the truth of what happened. "The person that took it, if you can even call him a person, isn't...human."

A moment passed. Matthew blinked. 

"Wait, what? Not human?"

Alfred rubbed the back of his neck and his tone turned a little sour as he forced himself to just spit it all out. "Well, the morning after we got the footage, I saw something moving in the corner of one of the cameras. It looked like...some sort of tree vine? So I came on site to track it down and ended up confronting this...guy who could control them like some kind of superpower. And he obviously wasn't human! He had branches and leaves growing out of his shoulders and everything, and he appeared and disappeared like it was nothing to him."

When Matthew looked extremely doubtful, Alfred pressed on. "I'm not crazy, Matt, that's what actually happened!"

Matthew looked like he was struggling to process everything and speak at the same time. "So you're telling me this...spirit, or whatever, took the oil?"

"Yeah, with his tree vines! Or roots. He absorbed the oil into the forest apparently," Alfred said, gesturing in the general direction where the encounter took place. 

Matthew stared at him for a very, very long time. "Are you sure you didn't just imagine this?"

Alfred gaped. "Does this sound like something I'd make up?!"

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time," said Matthew exasperatedly. "You used to say you had an alien friend named Tony."

"I did! He just left to go back to his home planet a few years ago! And—" Alfred stopped himself. "Wait, this isn't the point. I'm not making this up, Matt. I really did meet this guy out in the forest and he's the one who absorbed the oil!"

"Right..."

Alfred groaned. "You don't believe me, do you?"

"Well, I don't know, Al. Tree roots that absorbed oil? A spirit that can control them? You can't blame me for not believing you," said Matthew.

"I can show you the footage," Alfred huffed. 

Matthew shook his head. "Sure, why not? But that doesn't mean I'm going to believe some random entity is controlling them. There's got to be a logical—"

"—I am being logical."

"—realistic answer to all of this," Matthew finished. 

Alfred sighed. "Take it or leave it, Mattie. I'm really not making this all up."

Matthew chewed the inside of his cheek, contemplating for a long while before he asked, "So if this guy did take it, where's all the fuel now?"

Alfred shrugged. "He said he absorbed it all, and that he wouldn't be able to give it back to us."

"Is that why you're acting so weird?" Matthew asked, nudging his head in the direction of the machines.

"He and I both knew that the only way we'd be able to continue this project is to find a way to stop the guy from taking the fuel in the first place." 

Matthew raised an eyebrow. "What, is this guy going to just start taking the fuel the moment we put it in?"

Alfred shook his head. "Considering how he took the fuel overnight, something tells me he doesn't want to be seen by too many humans. We can still make some progress on the construction today, but I'd like to avoid needing to refuel every single day."

Matthew snorted. "Yeah, we'll run out of money real soon if that happens. But how are we supposed to stop it from happening?" 

"I'll just catch him in the act and stop him before he can take it," was Alfred's simple answer. 

"And you'll stop him how exactly?"

Alfred considered this. He hadn't thought too deeply about it if he was being honest. Part of him was rather confident that just catching the guy in the act would be enough to scare him off. But now that he really thought about it, how would he be able to stop a supernatural being who could control tree vines from taking their fuel?

"...Should I bring out a chainsaw?" Alfred mused.

Matthew eyed him warily. "Whatever you do, just don't involve me in it. As long as the fuel doesn't get taken again, I'm going to pretend this conversation didn't happen." Seeing Alfred lost in thought, he asked, "Are you sure you don't want to go to a doctor and get your head checked, just in case? Maybe you bumped it on something—"

"Matt, I'm telling you, it was real!"

Matthew raised his hands in surrender. "Fine, fine, whatever you say. You do your thing and don't get in trouble. The last thing I want to do is save your ass from this monster spirit, or whatever." 

Alfred scoffed. "I can handle myself, thanks." 

Matthew gave him an extremely unconvinced look but before he could say more, they heard their names being called from a distance. Giving Alfred a pat on the shoulder, Matthew offered a smile. 

"C'mon, let's get to work. We can talk more about this later tonight over dinner." 

Letting out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, Alfred tried to relax his tense muscles and returned Matthew's smile. "You're right, let's go." 

He had taken a few steps forward after Matthew when he suddenly felt that familiar prickle down his back again. Immediately, Alfred turned towards the feeling, staring down the forest that bordered the construction site. 

From this distance, he obviously couldn't see anything. But somehow, Alfred just knew. His whole body sparked in response to such an intense gaze and Alfred could feel his heart beating furiously in his chest, the blood rushing in his ears, his fingers growing numb. However, instead of feeling dread or fear, Alfred felt a weird mix of familiarity and longing. He felt strangely excited. Somewhere far off in the depths of his mind, Alfred almost wanted to continue provoking the spirit just to see what the man would do. He toyed with the thought that maybe he could afford to play around with their company's project on the line.

Something in Alfred was eager. He wanted to challenge him. To learn about him. It had been a long time since anything got Alfred this riled up. 

Then Matthew's shout snapped him out of his thoughts. 

"We're ready to get going, you good?" his cousin asked.

Alfred felt a surge of determination and he grinned. "Sorry, coming! Let's get it all going! It's about time we got back on schedule."

And so the machines roared to life. The clanking of gears. The smell of smoke. The rumble of a chorus of engines, harsh and strong. At the same time, Alfred felt a tremor beneath his feet. It could've easily been mistaken as the machines, but something told Alfred it was more than that. 

As the ground shuddered and broke under the weight of steel and rubber, so did the heart of the spirit of green. 

Chapter Text

The day went surprisingly well. And so did the day after that, and the day after that. Not a single thing went wrong and within a few days, their project was back on schedule.  

But that was why Alfred was worried.

After everything that happened, the threats that were made, the fact that nothing was happening only grew the anxiety in Alfred's chest. 

"Alfred, what's the matter?"

Alfred looked up at his cousin who raised an eyebrow at him from his seat on the couch. "Hm? What d'ya mean?"

"You're pacing."

Alfred looked down at the floor, frowning. Since when did he get up from his chair? He could've sworn he was sitting down just a second ago.

"Something on your mind?" Matthew asked.

"Well...everything's working out," he said flatly.

"Yes?"

"Nothing bad's happening," he pressed.

Matthew rolled his eyes. "Great observation." 

Alfred continued his pacing. "I'm serious, Matt, I don't get it. After everything the guy said about threatening our lives, swearing that he'd stop the project, and yet nothing is happening."

"Maybe because you imagined it all," Matthew insisted, waving his hands as if his voice wasn't sarcastic enough. "Maybe that first day really was some kind of freak accident."

"But you saw the footage!"

"A trick of the light," Matthew easily countered.

Alfred groaned and flopped back onto the couch, sinking so low that only his head was propped up against the back of it while the rest of his body hung loosely off the front.

"The guy's real, I swear" he bit out. "It'd be nice if you just believed me."

"I don't believe in things I haven't seen," Matthew sighed, looking only slightly sympathetic at his cousin.

Extremely frustrated at this point - and praying out of his mind that he actually hadn't hallucinated the whole encounter with that man in the forest - Alfred scrambled up from the couch and grabbed his cousin's wrist, dragging him towards the backdoor.

"Fine, if you want to see it to believe it, I'll show you!"

"Wha—?!" Matthew stumbled ungracefully behind him, trying and failing to pull his wrist out of Alfred's iron grip. "Alfred, let me go, you're losing it!"

"I'm going to prove to you that I'm not," he grumbled, throwing open the door and pulling his cousin out across the patio.

"It's getting dark out, Al, we'll—"

"We'll leave the lights on. We won't go far."

"Alfred, you're acting crazy, let go of me!"

"Not until you believe me!"

Alfred dragged his cousin deeper into the forest, ignoring the cries of protest and following the gravel path until he reached the edge of the construction site. Finally, he dropped his cousin's hand and paced around, searching.

Matthew rubbed his sore wrists. "You and your stupid brute strength," he muttered. "Why did you bring me here?"

"Every time something weird happened, it was always here. I'm sure he's around here somewhere." Alfred continued to pace around, eyes flickering this way and that. He honestly did feel like he was losing his grip on reality and he must've looked it too with the way his cousin watched him uneasily. "That one time we came out here for a walk, I heard someone whispering my name and after meeting him, I'm sure it was him. And when I saw him the day after the fuel was stolen, it was around here too."

Matthew sighed. "Alfred, no one lives even close to here except us."

"But that spirit's here, I just know it!"

"Alfred—"

"HEY!" Alfred shouted at the top of his lungs. "I KNOW YOU'RE OUT THERE!"

Matthew winced. "Fuck, Alfred, what the hell's wrong with you?"

"SHOW YOURSELF!"

"Alfred, shut up!" He ran at his cousin and tried to pull Alfred back towards the house.

Alfred shook him off. "I WON'T LOSE TO YOU, Y'HEAR?!"

"Alfred!"

"He should show up," Alfred insisted frantically. "I swear he exists!"

"Alfred, you're acting insane." Matthew pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to prevent his headache from getting worse. "I have every mind to remove you from the project at this rate."

"No!" Alfred dashed over and grasped Matthew's shoulders. "No, please, don't do that. You know I'm doing perfectly fine at work."

Matthew shoved Alfred off of him. "Then stop acting like this, Al! Why can't you just drop it?"

"Because I know he's real!"

"Fine! Let's say he is!" Matthew shouted back. "Let's say it really was this guy who took the fuel on the first day. So what? Nothing's happened since then, Alfred, it's been days. Maybe this guy gave up." 

"No way," Alfred shook his head. "He was so determined to go through with his threats if I didn't listen. He was threatening our lives, Matt!"

"So why hasn't he done anything?"

"I—"

"Why hasn't this guy taken any more fuel yet? Or killed someone, if that's what you're so worried about?" 

"I—" Alfred pressed his lips together, then slumped forward, defeated. "...I don't know."

Matthew sighed heavily, pressing his fingers to his temples. "Exactly," he breathed. "So please, for everyone's sake, can you just...drop it? Let's just say I believe you and call it a night, okay? We'll take it as a good sign that nothing's happened past that one incident and if something does happen, we can deal with it then, alright?"

Alfred looked at the way his cousin's eyes pleaded at him in the fading light. The sound of crickets and cicadas rang through the silence they shared. After a final, desperate look around him at the unchanging scenery, Alfred sighed.  

"Alright."

"---!"

Thick roots stretched into the machines' gas tanks and absorbed the fuel, the green under his skin slowly turning an ugly shade of grey.

"---!"

"I-I'm fine," he panted, shooing the green bunny away. "I've had my days of rest. I can handle more."

"---!"

"I won't disappear. Not until they're gone. Not until they're all gone."

This land was his. If he needed to sacrifice his physical form, then so be it. He smiled at the winged bunny sitting on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry you have to see me like this. But don't fret, I'm fine, really. It's just—" His vision swirled. "It's just—"

He collapsed to his knees and hit the ground with a heavy thud, breathing laboured. He was dimly aware that his name was being called but didn't have the strength to reply.

His vision was blurry. His body was in pain. So much pain. Like a fire consuming him from the inside and it was splintering him into pieces.

It was agony.

"Damn it," he finally managed to bite out through the blinding heat of it all. "Looks like I hadn't...cleansed myself completely from last time. What a fucking joke. When did I get so weak?"

"---!"

"You're right. I might have to think of other ways to deal with him." He looked up at the night sky, hoping the stars and the moon could bring him some kind of relief. He let out a wry laugh instead, ignoring how the movement stirred blades inside him.

"I wonder...will he remember me if I'm gone?"

Then he let himself sink back into the earth to sleep.

Chapter Text

No one realized anything was wrong until after lunch was over.

Alfred and Matthew were going over the plans in the mobile office when they vaguely noticed the construction noises growing fainter by the minute. Little by little, the sounds of machinery ebbed away, leaving a chorus of confused shouts and dissonance behind.

Matthew looked up from the table and out the window, frowning. "What's happening?"

The two of them stood and together, they walked out to join the others. Multiple workers were already starting to gather and a cold weight dropped deeper and deeper in Alfred's stomach as they approached.

"Hey, what's going on? Why did everyone stop?" he asked.

One of the men sitting in a log processor opened the door and stepped out. "It wasn't because we wanted to, Mr. Jones," he said, gesturing to the machine's panel. "Apparently, we've all just run out of fuel. Again."

"Everyone?" 

The men around him nodded.

He shot a look at Matthew who sighed heavily in response. The Canadian ran a hand through his hair and turned to the workers. "Alright, let's put everyone on break while we investigate. Where's Tino?" 

The men all pointed in the same direction, and Alfred could already see the Finnish man making his way towards them with a worried expression on his face. 

"All the machines are down," Tino confirmed, closing the distance and pausing to catch his breath. "No fuel again."

Alfred exchanged another look with his cousin, not bothering to hide the pointed 'I told you so' plastered on his face. Matthew just let out a groan and waved at everyone to disperse. 

"Let's figure this out at your office," Matthew said to Tino. "We'll need to figure out if there's anything else the men can do in the meantime or if we'll just have to send them home for today." 

Tino nodded in agreement and the two started walking back towards the mobile office. Then, Matthew realized Alfred wasn't following. 

"Al?" he called out uncertainly. He didn't like the look Alfred had on his face. "Coming?" 

Alfred shook his head, eyes not leaving the forest. "I'll join you two later," was all he said before marching up the hill. Matthew didn't bother calling after him.

"Where's he going?" Tino asked, concerned.

 "To solve the problem himself, apparently." Pursing his lips together, Matthew let out a frustrated sigh and combed a hand through his hair. "Should've kept my mouth shut, yesterday," he grumbled. 

"Does he know why this is all happening?" Tino asked innocently.

"Something like that," said Matthew before changing the subject. "How are the fuel tanks in storage? Were those emptied too?"

"No, I don't think they were touched this time around." 

"Good. Let's start there then."

Panting, Alfred jogged through the forest, ignoring how his shins stung from getting scraped on the metal fence he climbed over. 

"Hey!" he shouted out into the open. "I know you're out there!" 

Alfred was answered with silence, but his heart was thunderous in his chest. Wondering why his cheeks were sore, Alfred had to lift a hand to his face to realize he was grinning. 

He was right. The man was real. He hadn't hallucinated it all. 

The joy of reassurance and the excitement that this feud of theirs hadn't ended yet made Alfred's blood thrum in excitement. He knew he should've felt frustrated or even angry that the project was being forced to stall again, but all he felt was relief. He knew, deep down, he had wanted this man to be real. He wanted the opportunity to continue seeing him - the constant reminder that there was something supernatural and magical in the world that only Alfred knew of. As much as he had been losing his mind over being the only one to know of the spirit's existence, it simultaneously brought Alfred a wild, electrifying thrill to be the only one who shared the secret. 

Alfred's thoughts were then interrupted by a strange noise - an odd string of twinkling and bubbling noises to his left.

Looking over, he saw a winged bunny floating a few feet away from him, its fur a shade of mint green that sparkled from the afternoon sun.

Alfred blinked and gaped. A spark of recognition gutted him in the lungs as the bunny flew closer to him, circling his head a few times before using its mouth to tug on his sleeve. Before he even had time to piece together why he felt that odd sense of familiarity, the strange animal began to pull harder on his sleeve in urgency.

"Hey, stop that," he said softly but doing nothing to resist. "What's going on? Did something happen?"

The bunny didn't release the sleeve but nodded, much to Alfred's awe. This thing could understand him.

"I feel like...I've seen you before," Alfred mused.

The bunny nodded again but its tugs grew more forceful, seemingly growing frustrated that Alfred wasn't moving.

"Are you trying to take me somewhere?" Alfred asked. 

Dropping his sleeve, the bunny let out what sounded like an annoyed squeak before turning to fly off. Snapping out of it, Alfred stumbled after it.

"Wait! Where are you going?" he called after it.

But the bunny gave no answer and Alfred stopped asking questions. 

Running further and further in an unknown direction, Alfred felt a laugh fueled purely by adrenaline escape his throat. The forest brushed by him in a green blur, thickening in density and colour, as he ran after the bunny's shadow. The raw sound of twigs snapping and his ragged breathing were the only things he could hear. The creature was so damn fast. 

Just as Alfred felt his lungs were about to cave in, the bunny slowed to a halt, giving Alfred time to recover. 

He coughed and gasped for breath as he rested his hands on his knees. "I haven't run that hard since college," he laughed breathlessly. "Man, that was wild." 

As his heart began to slow, his brain started working again too. He realized that what had happened really was wild. And just a bit stupid too.

Alfred suddenly started to question his own actions. Why had he chased after the bunny so readily? What if it had been leading him straight into a trap? Alfred knew enough to reasonably deduct that this bunny was somehow acquainted with that strange man from the forest, but that also meant the bunny might have been an enemy as well.

Straightening his posture, Alfred looked around and realized how deep in the forest he was. He swallowed nervously.

That spirit had no qualms about using his life and the lives of his coworkers as a threat. And yet, without a breath of hesitation, he ran after the bunny as if nothing else in the world mattered to him, ending up deep within his enemy's territory.

A strange noise that sounded like broken hiccups and bells drew his attention back to reality and he turned to the sound. The bunny was still circling in front of him, trying to get his attention. 

"You're not trying to kill me, are you?" he asked half-seriously. 

But the bunny looked like it was having none of it and blurted out a flurry of sharp noises before flying further away, drawing Alfred's attention to the base of a giant tree.  

Alfred's breath lodged in his throat as he recognized the figure lying motionless on the ground.

"Hey!" He ran towards the man, kneeling at his side. "Hey, what happened? You okay?" 

The spirit was lying on his side facing the tree, seemingly unconscious. Looking more closely, Alfred realized that half of the man's body was submerged in the ground, the skin closest to the dirt seemingly melting into a bark-like texture. From his back, a variety of wildflowers and foliage grew out from underneath his skin by his shoulder blades, wrapping around his abdomen like wings sheltering an injured bird. His legs were fused together from the knees down. If it weren't for the man's face twisted up in pain or how his body occasionally shivered, Alfred would've thought he'd come across a statute instead.

Alfred's hands hovered over the man in uncertainty, settling on his shoulders to try shaking the spirit awake. But when he received no response, he turned to the green bunny for help only to realize the creature had disappeared. Left to his own devices, Alfred couldn't think of anything better than to just circle his arms around the body and try to pull the man up. Digging his hands into the dirt, Alfred tucked his hands around the man's shoulders and waist before pulling him free from the ground with great effort. Feeling like he was literally uprooting him, the body finally came free with a few more forceful tugs.

Unfortunately, Alfred miscalculated how heavy the man was and swayed too far, collapsing onto his back with the spirit on top of him.

"Oof," Alfred grunted, feeling his breath get pushed out of his lungs. How could someone with such a small frame weigh so much?

Shuffling around to get his hands underneath him, Alfred finally managed to push himself up into a sitting position and cradle the spirit on his lap, wincing at the foliage digging into his arms and legs as he held him. He watched in awe as the side of the body that was once in the ground solidified back into a human form, roots that had anchored him to the ground retracting back into the man's skin.

"Hey, you alive?" Alfred called out, heart still in his throat and bewildered at what was happening beyond belief. "Can you hear me?" 

Then after what felt like hours, the man stirred in his arms. The side of his face that turned into the texture of bark smoothed back into shape, returning to a pale, translucent shade. His legs unfused and limply separated as they untangled from their crossed position. Alfred held his breath, afraid to utter a sound, as those bright green eyes slowly opened.

They were unfocused, at first, searching aimlessly for something familiar. Then they met Alfred's eyes.

Shades of green and vibrant gold melted with the blue and violet of the sky. And the two halves completed the earth.

At that moment, engulfed in the forest of those eyes, Alfred lost himself. His own heartbeat felt alien to his ears and he almost felt annoyed at how loud the blood coursed through his ears. Chained to the silence and those hazy, unfocused eyes, Alfred felt as if he had grown roots of his own. He suddenly became very aware of how small the man's frame was as he embraced him and how cool his skin felt to the touch. His heart sped up and his mouth dried.

This was bad.

But then those green eyes focused and recognition washed over his face, clouding the purity of colour with confusion, fear, and anger. The male quickly sat up and Alfred didn’t stop him. He tried not to feel hurt at the way the spirit pushed away from him to get some distance between them, his formerly soft and calm expression now guarded and sharp.

After a brief silence, the spirit asked, "Why are you here?"

Alfred almost laughed. He wanted to know that answer himself. Instead, his eyes found the green bunny that had reappeared at a convenient time and was making its way to the spirit's side.

"I think I was asked to come. All I did was follow your friend over there and I found you unconscious on the ground."

The spirit turned to the bunny nuzzling his arm and petted it. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I lost myself."

"So? What happened to you?" Alfred asked.

The spirit sent him a quick glare before returning back to the bunny. "It's none of your business," he answered curtly.

"It is now," Alfred said waving generally over the other man's form. "I'm pretty sure I saved you from...whatever it was that was happening to you."

The spirit looked like he had just been violated and scowled. "I can assure you that none of that was thanks to you."

"Then why did your friend bring me here?" Alfred argued. "If I didn't do any saving, you would've been fine on your own, right?"

"That's right," he sniffed, moving to stand. "You just happened to be here at the right time to take all the glory. Now if you'll excuse me—"

And then he was falling. 

Before Alfred could even think, he stumbled onto his feet to catch him before he collapsed.

A thousand thoughts ran through each of their heads the very moment Alfred's arms encircled the spirit. Emotions strung tighter than a bow sparked with fire.

Confusion. Fear. Shock.

Sorrow. Hesitation. Longing.

Neither moved, both terrified of the contact but, for some reason, even more reluctant to separate. 

Alfred swallowed and tightened his hold around the smaller form of the spirit. The gesture was definitely overstepping some kind of boundary. They hardly knew each other after all and this felt... too close. To intimate. But something in Alfred's heart ached and gave him enough blind courage to reassure him that this would be okay. He did feel the man tense but was rewarded when surprisingly, he didn't move away.

"I—" His voice cracked and he swallowed again. The scent of flowers blurred his thoughts together. "I used to know you, didn't I? That's why you and that bunny seem so goddamn familiar to me. But...why can't I remember you?"

The smaller male slowly pushed his face away from Alfred's chest to look up at him. Alfred met his gaze and could feel those large green eyes searching his. For what, Alfred didn't know. But what he did know was that it pained him to see those eyes carry so much sorrow behind them.

Then the spirit blinked and dropped his gaze. "You...were too young, I suppose," he said softly. "I believe you were just eight or so the last time we met."

Alfred let out a shaky sigh. "So that's what you were saying." The admittance clicked his scattered thoughts into place. The accusatory tone, making references to the past that Alfred couldn't understand - now it all made sense. 

Then he felt a hand push against his chest and he reluctantly let go, letting the spirit take a few steps back. 

"Yes, well-" He cleared his throat. "I'm sure you won't go forgetting this time around. Now, I really must—" 

"Your back!" Alfred blurted out. "The flowers, I mean. Do you...need help with them?" 

Arthur blinked a few times, looking uncharacteristically startled, which brought a small spark of eagerness into Alfred's already reeling mind. 

"I...usually deal with them myself—"

"I can help," Alfred hastily said, ignoring alarm bells ringing in his head. 

Several thoughts seemed to flash over the spirit's expression before it eventually settled on some kind of mix between reluctant resignation and cautiousness. 

"Alright then," he said quietly. "If you insist."

Chapter Text

Alfred hadn't known what he was thinking when he blurted out his request. And even now, as they sat down together on the forest floor, Alfred still didn't know what he was thinking. All his mind had the capacity to process was the view of the spirit's back in front of him, the flowers and foliage of a large assortment of shapes and colours blooming before him. Tracking the stems down towards the roots, the otherworldliness of it all only hit him like a brick in the face when he saw how the roots dug down into the man's skin, which was translucent enough for Alfred to make out the thin paths they followed underneath. 

Alfred felt his skin prickle in goosebumps. This guy really wasn't human.

He cleared his throat. "Do I just...pull them out?"

"Yes," came the hesitant reply. "And...I'd appreciate it if you could do so gently."

Alfred reached out a hand and gently brushed through the collage of greenery sprouting like wings from the spirit's back. He saw the spirit shiver at his touch, hearing a soft sigh escape his lips. Alfred struggled to speak around the lump in his throat.

"Isn't this going to hurt you?" he asked, suddenly wondering if he was truly up for the task.

"It'll feel like plucking a hair, nothing more."

Alfred took hold of a lavender stalk and gently tugged at it, testing. But seeing how it pulled the skin, Alfred continued to stall with a hard swallow.

As if sensing his reluctance, the spirit sighed. "If you're not able to do it—"

"No, I can!" Alfred insisted. "Just...give me a minute."

Gritting his teeth to mentally prepare himself, Alfred tightened his grip on the lavender stalk. Fighting off the feeling of looking away, he held his breath and pulled.

To his surprise, the stem detached off easily with hardly any resistance at all, leaving behind a small dot of scarred skin. But the hiss of pain that followed made Alfred realize that it wasn't as painless as someone had made it out to be.

Alfred set aside the lavender. "This is hurting you, isn't it?"

"I can manage." The response was too quick and strained.

"It doesn't sound like you can," Alfred accused. 

The man let out an irritated sigh. "Why are you—? You were the one who offered in the first place. If you're so bothered by it, I'll do it myself."

"But the pain—"

"Is temporary. I've been alive for a very long time and this wouldn't be the first time I've been subjected to this." He raised a hand to poke at one of the poppies drooping over his shoulder, glancing at Alfred with a curious look in the meantime. "These flowers are doing more harm to me than good, you know. So I'd rather have them removed before they grow any more than they already have. Unfortunately, my powers aren't enough to just will them away."

Alfred clenched his hands once. Then twice. Letting out a resigned sigh, he waved for Arthur to return to his original position. 

"Alright, I'll do it, but tell me if it's too much."

There was a thick pause. "Are you that bothered by it?"

"By what?" Alfred mumbled, focusing on pulling out a dandelion.

"...When I'm in pain."

Alfred's hands stilled. The spirit's tone wasn't accusatory when the question was asked, but soft and confused. Unsure of whether it was a loaded question or not, Alfred decided to answer honestly.

"Well, it's not like I enjoy inflicting pain on other people," he said. 

"Even if I'm your enemy?"

"Enemy or not, I don't like hurting people."

The spirit's back straightened a little. "And yet, you'll continue your project even if it does." Now the tone sounded accusatory. 

Alfred sucked in a breath. "Are you telling me that our project is hurting you?" 

"...And if I say that it does? Would that change anything?"

Alfred couldn't answer but weirdly enough, the spirit didn't push further. The realization of the truth just sank deeper into Alfred's chest and burned an imprint of guilt instead. Alfred gently pulled out a few more wildflowers before he had his thoughts gathered up enough to speak. 

"It's not like I want to hurt you," he said softly. "And it's not like we knew." 

"But now that you do, I don't suppose you'll do anything differently." The tone didn't carry as sharp of an edge this time but Alfred didn't like how it still sounded so resigned. 

"We're already trying to do things differently from the start," Alfred said, tugging at a fern. "We've kept the project relatively small-scaled, and the resources we're clearing are going to be recycled back into the project to be used as building foundation. Even the houses we're going to build are designed to reduce the impact they have on the environment." He paused. "I— There must've been people who've built stuff on your territory before, hasn't there?" 

The spirit shook his head slightly, his hair rustling the flowers growing close to the nape of his neck. "Not of this scale. Not with those terrible, poisonous machines." 

"They're the fastest ones in the market. The quicker we get things done, the quicker we'll be out of your hair," reasoned Alfred. 

"Or you could just forget about the whole thing."

Alfred pressed his lips together. "I can't do that." 

"Aren't you in charge of the whole operation?"

"Sort of, but— I'm not the one who makes the final decisions. If we don't do it, someone else will," he said, remembering Matthew's words. 

"Then I'll deal with them if it comes down to it," the spirit said resolutely. 

Alfred couldn't help but let out a small snort. "They won't be as reasonable as I am. They'll bring hundreds of men and destroy acres more of land than we are. I've seen their plans. They won't care."

"And you do?" 

"Yes," Alfred answered without hesitation. He heard the spirit's sharp inhale. "I can't stop this project completely, but I'll try to make it easier for you. Maybe we can work something out."  

Huffing, the spirit shifted his posture slightly, evidently growing more uneasy. "The only way this will work is if you tell your people to leave." 

"But I already told you, even if we leave, some other company's just going to come after us," Alfred argued. "Wouldn't you rather deal with someone who'd listen to you instead?" 

The spirit made a noise that sounded like a frustrated growl. "What I need is to deal with people who can be easily scared off because evidently, dealing with someone who claims he'll listen to me isn't working." 

"There are people who need houses out there. Our houses," Alfred gritted out, pulling a grass stalk a little too hard and making the spirit hiss. "Sorry— I can't just cancel the project when so many lives are depending on us."

"Their lives?" A manic laugh echoed around them and the spirit turned to stare Alfred down with eyes blazing with fire. "Do you have any idea how many of us you've already killed? How many of my kind I've had to watch disappear just because humans like you can't find better places to live?" The wind picked up and the trees groaned ominously. "Humans like you have choices, Alfred. I don't. This forest is not only my home but my lifeline. The moment it's destroyed, so am I. So forgive me for wanting to live," he spat out sarcastically.

"But what reasons am I supposed to give everyone? We don't know that people like you exist!" Alfred tried to reason. "Maybe if people knew—"

"Would they act any differently if they knew?" the man spat, standing to put distance between them. "Don't be so naïve, Alfred. You know but I can't even change your mind. What good will it do if more humans know?" 

"Then what do you expect us to do?" Alfred accused, chasing after him.

The spirit sharply turned back around, staring Alfred down with the familiar power and might he felt several days ago. "You misunderstand me, Alfred, I'm not expecting humans to change their behaviour," he hissed, "I'm expecting you to do something different. Something right. Call. Off. This. Project."

Alfred stood his ground, ignoring how his heart was tearing in two, and shouted a little desperately, "But what if I believe that what I'm doing is for the best? That what I'm doing is making the inevitable that much more bearable for the environment compared to everyone else out there that couldn't give a shit about you?!"

"Then it looks like an agreement between us will never be reached," the spirit responded icily. "I was wrong to put my faith in you." 

"I—"

"Goodbye, Alfred."

A storm of leaves rapidly engulfed Alfred's vision, forcing him to cover his face to protect himself against the sharp debris. When all was quiet again and he dropped his arms, Alfred was alone, the bouquet of wildflowers scattered and torn up around him. 

Chapter Text

Alfred had a strange dream that night.

Back in the familiar forest behind his cousin's house, he was alone and four years old again. Oh, how small his body was and how grand everything around him looked. The forest was a blur of warm sunshine and mild green, and the air was thick with sweetness and dew. The heaviness of the humidity turned the sun into thick rays of windowed light.

Unable to control his movements, Alfred watched as his limbs moved with confidence but none of it belonged to him. He was nothing more than a puppet on strings.

His feet spun with childish glee and he heard himself giggling.

Then he heard his name being called. A soft whisper that carried so much fondness behind it.

"Alfred," it called again.

And then Alfred saw him. With the wind stirring his blond hair and the sun lighting up his skin like fire, the man with blindingly green eyes was simply magical as he stood before Alfred, smiling. Alfred felt his cheeks stretch into a smile as their eyes met. The feeling of completeness as they smiled at each other, igniting something within them with no less intensity than if the earth reached up to embrace the the sky.

And how that sky willingly fell back to the earth to meet it.

Alfred ran towards the man, calling his name with so much joy, he hardly recognized it. 

And before he could reach him - before he could feel the familiar coolness of his skin on his palms - Alfred woke up, the sound of the man's name being called so eagerly by his child self still resonating within his mind. His ears rang from the echo. His heart raced in the wake of his happiness.

But then it all faded back into sharp and heavy reality.

With a groan, Alfred sat up in his bed, giving his head a waking shake. 

"So your name is Arthur," Alfred whispered.

Alfred had no idea how his brain had managed to pull that out from the depths of his lost memories. If anything, the memories didn't even feel like they belonged to him. But something told Alfred that they were real, and the name that rolled so easily off his tongue was meant to be there.

Alfred looked out the window and saw that the sky was starting to lighten. He checked the time. Barely past five in the morning. Doing a quick calculation in his head, Alfred realized that this meant it was already past eight in the morning in New York.

Throwing on a part of sweats, he grabbed his phone off the charger and went downstairs to the backyard. Breathing in the fresh smell of the forest as he quietly opened the door and slipped on a pair of runners, Alfred groaned as he stretched out the soreness of sleep from his body. He then turned to his phone to thumb through his contacts.

It was time to give his mother a call.

The navy of the sky had turned into a light shade of ocean blue by the time Alfred finished his call, the horizon tinted with layers of orange and yellow with the impending sun.

Alfred had long strayed off the gravel path. Walking through uncharted territory, Alfred continued strolling forward. He vaguely knew he was walking a straight line away from the house, but the rest of his mind was too busy replaying his phone call and trying to piece thoughts together. 

. . .

His mother answered on the second ring. "Alfred?"

"Hi, Mom. Morning'!"

"I'm surprised you're calling me so early. Is something the matter?" she worried.

"Nah, nothing serious," Alfred said, smiling. "I didn't wake you or anything, did I?"

He heard his mother laugh at the other end of the phone. "Honey, at my age, I'd be lucky to sleep past seven."

"Aw, c'mon Mom, you're not that old."

"Flatterer," she laughed. "How's Mattie doing? BC treating you well? What are you doing up so early? You didn't pull another all-nighter, did you?"

"Work's going just fine, don't worry," he reassured her. "I just...had a weird dream last night and it got me thinking." Alfred worried his inner cheek. "This is going to seem really random but...when I was younger and we came here to visit Mattie, did I ever meet anyone?"

. . .

Alfred maneuvered himself around some fallen branches and uprooted trunks. The sound of crickets grew louder as he walked over some puddles and avoided the particularly soft mud spots. Brushing past some overgrown ferns, he was surprised to come across a clearing. A large lake was cut into the middle of it - its waters so still, it mirrored the forest around it.

. . .

"Meet anyone?" his mother echoed. After a few seconds, Alfred could hear the rustling of her hair as she shook her head. "Other than the townspeople, I can't remember you meeting anyone that's made a lasting impression, no. You were always too busy playing in the forest to go into town too often anyway. Oh, how you always loved that forest."

Alfred smiled. "I loved any forests."

"But you had something very special with that particular forest. Maybe it's because you and Mattie played it in so often when we visited, but you never had the same excitement you did whenever we went camping or hiking elsewhere." 

The two shared a laugh and Alfred relished the warmth blooming in his chest. 

Then his mother gasped. "Oh! But there was the one person you always mentioned playing with whenever we were there. Never met the boy, though."

The laugh died in Alfred's throat. "Oh?" he squeezed out. 

"Yes! I believed you said his name was Arthur?" 

. . .

Someone was standing in the middle of the lake, swallowed up by the dark water up to his abdomen, unmoving. The paleness of his skin seemed to glow under the haze of dawn. His golden hair, perpetually wind-tossed despite there not being a single breeze, had leaves nestled in those wild strands.

. . .

Alfred swallowed hard at the name. "Arthur?"

Oblivious to her son's discomfort, she continued excitedly, remembering the days of Alfred's childhood fondly.

"Oh yes!" she chirped. "You used to always tell me you were running off to play with someone named Arthur in the forest. But when I asked Mattie if you really had made a new friend, he always told me he could never see anyone and that you were just talking to an imaginary friend. And y ou were so sad when we left for home, telling me you didn't want to leave Arthur behind. I thought at the time that, well, if he was an imaginary friend, why he couldn't just come with us? But when I asked you that question, you replied that it's because that forest was his home and that he couldn't leave his home behind."

Alfred could barely process the last bits of her sentence with how loud his heart was pounding in his ears. "I see," he said weakly.

"Oh, yes, you were quite the hero back then."

"Oh, yeah?" Alfred reminded himself to take deep breaths. 

"Yeah! Something about making the world a better place for the forests and making sure people like Arthur would be protected," she giggled. "Now that I think about it, I'm surprised you and Mattie went into the construction industry. I suppose you were too young to remember most of it, huh?."

"Yeah," Alfred choked out. "Something like that."

. . .

Alfred walked towards the edge of the lake, not the least bit surprised to see the man standing in the middle of it. 

He took in a shuddering breath.

"Arthur."

The way Alfred said the spirit's name was barely above a sigh, but that call alone was enough to jolt the statue standing in the lake back to life. 

As if the gears inside his body remembered how to work again, the stillness of the lake rippled at his movements as Arthur lifted his head and turned around, his green eyes wide and complicated with too much emotion.

For a long time, Alfred felt the spirit search his face, looking for something. Hoping for something. He could've even sworn that there had been a flicker of happiness that lit up the spirit's green eyes before it was immediately snuffed out and stuffed back into whatever box they had been locked up in before. 

Alfred didn't dare speak more, afraid that saying anything else would scare off the spirit or somehow make things worse between them. Honestly, Alfred was surprised Arthur hadn't run off yet right at the sight of him. 

The silence stretched on for so long that the lake had returned to utter stillness. It only rippled a minute later when Arthur seemed to take in a sharp breath.

"You remembered?" he asked quietly. Carefully.

Neither of them had looked away since Arthur turned around, and Alfred felt his very chest burning from how intensely Arthur was staring at him. 

"Just bits and pieces," he replied honestly, wincing at how ragged his voice sounded. 

"How?" 

"I...had a dream last night. Or, I guess you could say I dreamt of a memory."

"Oh?" Arthur began to slowly move towards him, the rippling of water steady and melodic. He finally dropped his intense gaze and Alfred felt himself take a deep breath.

"I was a child, playing in the forest. And you were there. Calling out to me," he continued.

"And that's how you remembered my name?" Arthur stepped out of the lake a few feet away from Alfred's side. The trickling of water was quickly silenced and any lingering drops disappeared into the spirit's skin.

"In my dream, I...called out to you. I said your name in my dream and I still remembered it when I woke up."

Arthur glanced over at him "And then you called your mother to confirm?"

Alfred blinked. "How did you—?"

Then any thoughts he had immediately shrivelled up and died when he realized Arthur was naked.

Alfred tried, and horribly failed, to keep his eyes from wandering over the pale, translucent skin that was practically glowing in the foggy light of dawn. His eyes traced the green veins canvassing underneath it - the way they painted over Arthur's otherwise flawless surface - and lingered over the drops of water that clung to his hair like dew. It wasn't until he found Arthur's eyes staring back at him did he realize with a rude start that he had been staring.

No, not just staring.

Wanting.

Snapping his mouth together and quickly turning his head to the side, Alfred took a large breath of air and forced himself to finish his previous question. 

"H-How did you know I called my mom?" he asked, ignoring how wrecked his voice sounded. 

"Have you forgotten that you're standing in my forest? I can see and hear everything the moment you're in my territory."

Alfred squeezed his eyes shut and only half-processed the answer. The rest of him was trying very, very hard to forget what he'd just seen and how he felt about it.

"Oh. R-Right," he stuttered. 

He heard Arthur chuckle. 

"Do human males usually get this embarrassed seeing another male's body?"

Alfred's eyes snapped open and he turned to face Arthur in horror, feeling his face flushing hot under the other's amused expression. And no, his eyes did not scan downwards.

"W-Who said anything about being embarrassed?!" Alfred blurted.

Arthur chuckled and he pulled on what looked like a patch of moss from a rotting log nearby. As he pulled, the moss stretched and materialized mid-air into something that could easily wrap around his waist. 

"This body of mine is just a creation I willed from the earth. I can take on any form I'd like and alter it however I please." Arthur raised an amused eyebrow at Alfred. "I can even remove certain parts if that'll make you more comfortable."

Not particularly enjoying how the conversation was only making his heart beat faster and further out of control, Alfred stubbornly refused to break eye contact and huffed. 

"I'm fine, thanks," he said through gritted teeth. 

Arthur secured the cloth with another chuckle, turned his owlish eyes to Alfred, and observed him in silence as his faint smile faded. That unreadable expression - or an expression that had too many emotions to read - defaulted on his face once again. Sighing as if he lost some kind of argument with himself after a moment, Arthur turned.

"Come with me, Alfred. It's about time I explain to you what it really means to be a spirit of this forest."

Chapter Text

The two walked side by side in silence, Alfred following just barely half a step behind as they followed an uphill path. It was a long time before Arthur spoke, and by the time he did, they had already walked long enough for the lake to disappear completely behind them.

"Yesterday, I mentioned that this forest is my lifeline," Arthur started softly before laughing dryly. "Although I'm not sure you remember since I spat the information into your face in the heat of the moment."

Alfred let himself ease into a smile. With how calm the morning air felt at this moment, it was hard to believe they had such a heated argument the day before. Was it because he had remembered some of his memories of Arthur? Or was it because the musky air of dawn and darkness soothed away his nerves? Alfred wasn't sure, but what he did know was that being with Arthur right now, walking slightly behind him, felt comfortable and right. So right and familiar that it was startling.

"Yeah, I remember," he said. "I sort of get the picture but I wouldn't mind a further explanation. I'm kind of tired of guessing and trying to figure you out by myself. It'd be nice if you actually told me stuff now."

"Well," Arthur huffed, appearing a little offended, "I apologize if I came off as cryptic. It wasn't my intention. I was just under the assumption that I was talking to someone who remembered me."

Brushing off the heatless jab, Alfred laughed it off. "I was just kiddin' around. Don't take me too seriously."

"Maybe if you took things more seriously we wouldn't be having this conversation."

"Hey now, I—"

"I know," Arthur cut him off, a smile evident in his voice even as he ducked his face out of Alfred's sight. "I was just kidding."

Alfred blinked and tried not to stare at the spirit's attempt at reciprocating his humour. Something bright and bubbly clamped around his chest and it took Alfred everything he had not to grin like an idiot.

Soon they broke through the thick of the forest, arriving at a cliff looking out over the ocean. They weren't more than a few feet above the water, the sound of lapping waves soothing to listen to. Standing there was like no one else existed in the world except for them, and Alfred silently wished that time would stop.

Arthur walked forward a few more steps before finding a spot in the grass to sit and Alfred quietly followed. The morning sun cut through the clouds and basked them in its rays. After another stretch of silence, Arthur began to speak.

"This material form of mine is only an embodiment of this forest. An intermediary, you could say. My true body is the forest itself. Every tree is my organ. Every root is my vein. The water that runs underground and pools above is my blood. The life that runs through this forest is what allows this body to be fabricated and alive, and what connects this body to the rest of me is what you humans call a soul. My very presence; my being; my existence. My voice—" Arthur paused to take a steading breath. "Without this body, I wouldn't be able to communicate with anyone outside my kind. But as long as this forest stands, I'm alive."

He turned to look at Alfred, his eyes practically golden under the direct sunlight, currently filled with a desire to be understood. A fear of vulnerability.

"But creating this body is extremely debilitating if the forest doesn't have enough strength, and if a physical body can no longer be sustained, then the soul returns to its original form - to continue living as a forest, unable to escape, unable to move, and unable to fight."

Arthur looked down at his hands resting on his lap and Alfred fought the urge to take those hands into his own.

"This is why I can't give up, Alfred. I need to keep fighting. I created this body thousands of years ago on a whim and never thought to use it for anything until I met you." His eyes returned to meet Alfred's, a helpless look on his face. "Meeting you gave me hope, and I put my faith in you hoping that you'd make a difference in the human world like you promised."

Then Arthur's expression darkened and he turned away.

"But then you'd forgotten me the next time you came back. And then the time after that, I discovered you were leading a project set out to destroy me," he whispered. 

Alfred wasn't sure how to respond, but Arthur didn't seem to be expecting an answer.

"I've witnessed so many deaths of my people, Alfred," he continued. "For centuries, our souls used to freely visit each other as we were all connected by the earth. How noisy it would be whenever we all tried talking to each other, excited about the littlest things. We would argue about whose leaves had the prettiest shades of red, and compete over who had the tallest trees or the ripest fruit. How much fun we had just chasing after each other in the wind and rivers..."

Arthur trailed off, his fond smile disappearing into a cold grimace.

"But one by one the others began to disappear. They talked about how concerned they were, at first. Worried about what the humans were doing to their land. Then they would fall ill and be unable to form their physical bodies." Arthur's words choked at his throat and he curled up into himself.

"Then all we could hear were their screams," he said, voice breaking along with Alfred's heart. "They were so loud. So many. So suddenly. And then there'd be nothing left. Their land, their forest, their rivers and ponds— Everything had been completely erased. Not a single blade of grass was left and their lives— their souls—"

Arthur gripped at his chest. 

"I used to think that our souls could never die. Death was just a concept to us, really. Through fire, disease, and harsh winters, we've all managed to stay alive through it all. But humans were different." Arthur shook his head. "The way humans were able to turn over the land and carve through it all to leave nothing behind is unprecedented. When I couldn't hear their voices anymore— When the voices of my family and friends were silenced so quickly— When I couldn't do anything but listen as they cried and screamed for it all to stop, how did you think I felt? What could I have done?"

Arthur turned his wide eyes to Alfred, looking so lost and frustrated that Alfred had to wonder how could someone so strong, so ancient with all the vastness of his forests and the terrifying beauty of his lands and waters, appear so small and weak and helpless. The sudden thought of humanity's potential for viciousness and destruction weighed heavily on both their hearts. 

"There wasn't anything I could do but realize that we could die. And so easily too," Arthur said, voice trembling as he searched Alfred's eyes. "I'm scared, Alfred."

Without another thought, Alfred reached out and pulled Arthur into his arms.

"Arthur," he choked out, wishing with all his might to absorb the spirit's sorrow into himself. To end the fragility of it all. 

Arthur made a sobbing noise into Alfred's shoulder and he felt the spirit cling onto the back of his shirt. The grip was desperate and filled with so much anger and longing Alfred could do nothing but tighten his embrace in response.

"I'm sorry," Alfred whispered furiously. "I'm sorry."

He wanted to apologize for his involvement. For forgetting. For humanity's recklessness and cruelty. For the pain he lived through repeatedly for so many years. 

But more than anything, Alfred wanted to get across that Arthur was still here. He was alive. That Alfred was with him and that and he could feel him.

They didn't separate until the sun was well at its peak in the sky.

Chapter Text

Eventually, Arthur slowly shifted himself out of Alfred's embrace but left his hands on top of Alfred's like he was reluctant to lose the warmth of his touch.

"Thank you," he murmured, staring down at their hands. 

Alfred shook his head, giving Arthur's hands a squeeze. "I think I should be thanking you. I...really didn't know."

"There was no way for you to know," Arthur said. "I should've told you sooner." 

"This...might not be much of a comfort to you but I'd like to think I never truly forgot you," Alfred said, pressing on when he heard Arthur scoff at him. "I'm serious! I might not have grown up to do exactly what you probably had in mind for me, but I think a lot of my choices in life were sort of influenced by you somehow. I wanted to help people but I never lost my love for nature."

Arthur hummed. "You always did like to play the hero," he mused. "But I still wish we didn't end up here. The others warned me back then, you know? Warned me that things wouldn't turn out the way I hoped." 

"The other spirits knew about me?" Alfred asked.

"Yes, and they still do." Then Arthur lifted his head and something akin to excitement sparked in his eyes. "Would you like to meet them?"

Alfred blinked at the question. "Meet who?"

"The other spirits," Arthur said, squeezing Alfred's hands.

"I-I can?" Alfred asked, bewildered. 

Nodding, Arthur stood, pulling him to follow. "Come."

Carefully making their way back downhill towards the lake, Arthur never let go of Alfred's hand. Now that Alfred had regained some fragments of his memories, he fully accepted the familiar, comforting touch, marvelling at how small and slender it was now compared to the one his child self remembered. 

When they were back on flat ground, Arthur led him to one of the trees beside the lake.

"When I said you could meet them, I meant it more as in I'll help you hear them. Hear them as I do. Although, their voices may be faint considering how you're human and all," Arthur explained.

He looked down at their intertwined hands and the way his expression softened made Alfred's heart ache. 

"So kind of like a long-distance call?" Alfred asked, trying to be helpful.

Arthur gave him an odd look before the realization settled in. "Oh, yes. I suppose you can think of it like that," he said before adding with a snort, "You humans and your technology."

Alfred laughed. "You sound like my grandpa."

"I'll take that as a compliment."

Arthur lifted their interlocked hands and guided Alfred to press his palm onto the trunk, his own hand laid over it.

"Now, I want you to close your eyes and feel the forest."

Alfred looked at his hand nestled under Arthur's, feeling confused. "Aren't I feeling it right now?"

Arthur shot him a look that looked both scathing and horribly fond. "Not what I meant."

"Oh. Sorry."

Breathing out a long sigh, Arthur placed his free hand on the nape of Alfred's neck and gently brought their faces closer until their foreheads touched. Alfred let out a small noise of surprise at the sudden close proximity but Arthur paid him no mind, his eyes already closed.

"I need you to be serious, Alfred," he said, sounding a little tired. " And I need you to focus."

Swallowing and willing his heart to slow back down, Alfred closed his eyes. Without his sight, the rest of his senses were immediately heightened. He focused on how Athur's skin was cool against his forehead and how smooth his hand felt on top of his. The smell of petrichor and the sweetness of flowers flooded his nose and the sound of cicadas echoed around them.

Then Alfred felt his hearing sharpen further. With a small pop of pressure like he'd passed a certain altitude, Alfred found himself clinging to the sound of the wind as it brushed over the trees. The creaking of the wood as the branches swayed. The distant call of birds and critters chorusing in harmony. Here and there he heard the crash of the ocean and the scattering of the water and foam.

Then the voices came.

A few, distinct voices at first, their sound broken and soft. But then they became louder. Clearer.

"Arthur," they whispered repeatedly. Some were concerned. Some were excited. "Arthur," they said.

Sometimes they spoke in English. Other times, an unknown language. Bursts of melodic tones and earthy murmurs overlapped and echoed over each other.

Then they gasped. "A human!" Several more unhappy voices ricocheted around Alfred's head. "Arthur!"

Alfred frowned. They didn't seem too happy about him. But then again, Alfred wasn't exactly surprised, especially not after what Arthur told him. He slowly opened his eyes to see if Arthur felt the same, looking for some kind of clue that maybe this meeting hadn't been such a good idea after all. But before he could suggest anything, the words got caught in his throat as his concern turned to awe at how the spirit was glowing before him.

With Arthur's magic activated, his entire body radiated with an ethereal, pale green light. The light traced the veins and roots underneath his skin and stretched outwards into the leaves that blanketed parts of his body. His blond hair swayed gently in a non-existent wind. Like he was suspended in water. 

And when Alfred heard Arthur's voice in his head, he noticed his lips hadn't moved.

"You're wrong," he said firmly, the richness of his certainty reverberating in Alfred's mind. "You know Alfred. Alfred is different."

"Different?" The voices rose in a chorus of disbelief and the trees of Arthur's forest churned in protest. "Different?!"

"Yes," Arthur insisted. "Different."

"You had told us otherwise," the voices accused. "You told us of his project, and his project will destroy you."

Alfred saw Arthur frown like he was fighting to come up with an answer and a spike of guilt was sent straight through his chest. Despite everything, Arthur was defending him. He still had faith. And it carried so much weight that Alfred could hardly stand it any longer.

Overcome with a new resolve, Alfred closed his eyes. 

"I'm not strong," he declared out loud, slightly unsure whether the spirits could hear him. 

But that didn't really matter in the end. All that mattered was that Arthur could hear him.

Taking a deep breath, Alfred continued.

"I'm not strong," he repeated. "I'm pretty much an idiot most of the time and not as brave as I'd like to think I am. Even now, I'm not sure if I stop the construction project or promise that I can stop others from trying...But I'll try. I want to try."

He felt Arthur's fingers twitch over his and pressed on. 

"I always thought I was doing something good with my job. Even if I didn't like how we had to cut down forests to do it, I felt like it was worth the sacrifice. Part of me still does. But seeing how much it hurts everyone— how much it hurts Arthur...I'll do whatever it takes to find a way around it." 

"How?" the voices challenged.

Alfred held his breath. "I don't know," he admitted. "But I know that I don't want Arthur to disappear and I'll do everything I can to prevent that."

The silence that followed was suffocating, and only the heightened noise of the forest reassured Alfred that the connection hadn't been lost. 

After what felt like hours, the voices returned. 

"Alfred," they whispered as if testing out his name on their tongues, unsure if they liked it. "Alfred," they repeated.

"Maybe there's hope," one sighed.

"Protect him," another one ordered. "Protect Arthur."

"Promise."

Alfred pressed his hands harder onto the trunk of the tree, the texture of the bark digging into his palm. He felt determination swirling up a storm inside of him, clamping down on something burning and bright within him and pulling it upwards into Alfred's heart. He poured forward his will and hope and prayed hard that the spirits could feel the sincerity of his words. 

"I will," he finally said.

Then with another pop, the voices were gone and it was quiet. Opening his eyes, Alfred was surprised to see that Arthur had taken a few steps away from him, his hand long gone from his.

"Arthur—"

"Were you being serious?" Arthur asked sharply, his expression guarded. He took a step back when Alfred stepped towards him. "Were you being serious?" he repeated, tone reaching the edge of a warning. 

"Yes," Alfred answered. "I'm serious."

Arthur was cradling the hand that had been placed on top of Alfred's against his chest as if clinging onto the words he heard through their touch. "I thought you said you couldn’t stop the project no matter what," he accused. 

Alfred took a step forward. Arthur took another step back.

"That's...still true, but I want to find an alternative," Alfred said. "A way to keep working on the project but without hurting you. I'm sure there's a way, right?"

Arthur's eyes desperately searched his, panic and uncertainty washing over his face. "W-Why are you asking me? It's your project."

A step forward. Another step back.

"So let's work this out together," Alfred insisted. "I know you want everything or nothing but I refuse to give up. We can work this out!"

Arthur was shaking his head now, closing in on himself as he clutched his hand even harder into his chest. Watching the spirit spiral so suddenly made Alfred speed up his pace toward him, and before Arthur could react, Alfred pulled him back into his arms.

"Arthur, please," he whispered, something in this tone making Arthur still in his arms. "When you talked to the other spirits you— I could tell that you have a lot of faith in me. That you still want to believe in me."

Arthur made a strangled noise at the back of his throat. "I felt it," he croaked. "The feelings you poured into your words, they were blinding— I couldn't— I didn't—"

"Those were real," Alfred said, holding Arthur tighter against him. "Everything I said. Everything you felt. I meant it all. I know I've let you down but I want you to continue believing in me. I really want this to work out for both of us, and I really can't stand to see you hurt now that you've told me everything." 

He slightly loosened his arms and looked down at the spirit gazing back up at him. Their eyes met like the earth and sky were colliding.

"I don't know if it'll work," Alfred admitted. And he knew Arthur knew too. "But will you be willing to at least try with me?"

Arthur took in a shuddering breath. 

"I don't know if it'll work," he repeated. 

"I know."

"...And I don't know if I can trust you."

"I know."

Arthur paused, scanning his eyes over Alfred's face. His guarded expression softened a little around the edges with something like fond helplessness. He raised a hand and ran his fingertips down the side of Alfred's face, tracing his jaw before meeting Alfred's gaze.

"But I want to," he continued quietly.

"For it to work?" Alfred asked.

"To trust you." Arthur burned his gaze into Alfred's. "I want to trust you."

Alfred's lips curled into a smile. "Do you?"

"I do."

Then Alfred leaned forward to kiss him, and when Arthur kissed back, he felt as if the earth had never been more complete.

Chapter Text

Matthew thought his cousin had finally gone crazy.

When Alfred initially went into the forest, Matthew had hope. But when Alfred had come back, the look he had on his face was not much further than absolute despair. But even after Matthew had asked him what had happened and even comforted him for reasons unknown to him, Alfred kept brushing him off. The way he wandered around the house after work was worse than someone taking off with his brain.

The situation only continued to spiral downwards when Matthew woke up the morning after to see his cousin furiously slaving over the project plans. It was like someone had pumped Alfred full of caffeine. With project papers and plans scattered all over the dining room table, Alfred barely acknowledged his cousin in the morning before he turned his attention back to whatever he was doing, his frantic eyes never once leaving his notes.

But even then, Matthew had hope. The hope was sinking faster than an anchor but he was hoping that, whatever Alfred had worked himself into, it would only mean good things for them and the project. 

That all came crashing down when Alfred suddenly announced to the office and crew later in the day that there would be changes made to the construction plans.

"Alfred, are you insane?" Matthew gritted out after it was only the two of them left in the boardroom. "Why are you changing the design plans now?!"

"Mattie, I can't destroy this forest," was Alfred's only reply, as if that answer alone explained everything. 

Matthew narrowed his eyes. "Why not?" And when Alfred didn't reply, he asked, "Is it because of that spirit or whatever you said you met in the forest? The one that's responsible for taking all the fuel?"

Again, Alfred didn't reply, occupying himself with flipping through the meeting minutes. So Matthew lost his patience.

"Are you serious, Alfred?!" His voice began to rise. "You're going to change years worth of planning just for this random person? He's not even real!"

"He's real!" Alfred argued. His eyes finally lifted from his papers and they were blazing with determination and irritancy. "And I won't be changing much, I think. Just relocating some plots, some underground work, and some structure plans. It shouldn't be that big of a deal."

"Not that big of a deal?" Matthew echoed in disbelief. "You're not working on this project alone, Alfred. Have you forgotten that we have sponsors and layers of deals on this project? You can't just go around changing things whenever you want to! We need to recalculate and get approval and—"

"And we'll do all of those, Matt! We'll get the approvals."

Matthew crossed his arms. "And how do you know that?"

"I'll...make my case super convincing."

Letting out a low groan, Matthew walked over to his cousin's side, glancing over the plans he was brainstorming with scrutiny. "Right, like how convincing your pitch was to the construction guys this morning. You're lucky they only care that they're getting paid at the end of the day. But what exactly are you going to tell our sponsors? The head office? That you're helping out a spirit? That you had a change of heart and decided protecting the forest is more important than building affordable housing?"

Alfred finally put the papers back down and gave his cousin a tired look. "It's not that it's more important, Matt. I'm just trying to find a better solution for both our sides."

"This is the best solution!" Matthew gestured around them.

"For us!" Alfred shouted back. "Not him."

Matthew stared his cousin down, voice growing gravely serious. "I'm not kidding, Alfred, why are you doing this? Because other than plain brainwashing, I can't think of a single, logical reason why you're going to such lengths for someone you barely know."

Alfred stared back. "I do know him and I already told you my reason."

"But for you to suddenly act like— ...Don't tell me you've gotten emotionally attached." When Alfred didn't reply, Matthew barked out a dry laugh. "What, do you— are you telling me you like this guy?" 

Matthew watched his cousin clench his hands, dropping eye contact as he bore holes into the desk in front of him. 

"Alfred, if you don't give me a straight answer, I'm going to forcefully remove you from the project." Alfred's head back snapped up and Matthew stared him down. "And don't think I won't do it. It's one thing to change plans for business reasons and a completely other thing if you're doing it because of your personal relationships."

Alfred sighed and glanced out the window towards the forest that seemed to eat away at his mind and heart. Matthew watched how fondness floated in and out of his expressions before those blue eyes of his, dark and resolute, turned back towards him. Seeing the absolute yearning and admittance in his eyes confirmed what Matthew had suspected. 

"He's important to me, Matt," Alfred said softly, with complete surrender and faith in his emotions. "I like him. I really do."

Matthew internally fought with himself. So much was screaming at him to realize how ridiculous this all was and that it'd be so much easier to just boot Alfred off the project. But that desire to continue pushing back was fading before it even had a chance to burn, and at this point, Matthew was too tired to keep fighting against someone who he knew was born stubborn. He just wanted this project to end.

"Fine," he finally said. "I won't send you to an insane asylum or put in the request to have you removed, but you better convince me that your plans are better than the originals as if your life depended on it. Because if I don't feel like it's ready, then our business partners sure as hell won't either."

A month later the changes were finally taking place. After weeks of slaving over their options, drafting and re-drafting proposals, researching alternatives, and hundreds of online conference calls, their new plans were eventually approved by their company's superiors and their sponsors. And although it took many, many hours to convince them that their new choices would prove to be even more (financially) advantageous than their current plans, it couldn't compare to the hours spent planning these changes.

And those changes were risky. Very risky.

Whether it was to change the structure of the houses to be built around the natural landscape, switch up the placement of windows to promote passive heating to avoid extra electric cables, or outsource the cement and wood from an ongoing highway remodelling project from the nearby city, Alfred had a long list of suggestions to make. Many of his suggestions were inspired by environmental architects from around the world - many of whom they had personally consulted on the matter - and Matthew was pleasantly surprised at how far the rest of the world had come on this side of the industry. Of course, he thought their original plans were already quite environmentally friendly, but the new plans Alfred had drawn out had become something much more advanced. Rather than constructing eco-friendly houses, it was like Alfred was building houses to improve the environment. 

Not only were the plans eventually approved after their gruelling process, but there had been no more otherworldly interruptions ever since. Alfred had reassured him that the spirit (Arthur was apparently his name) wouldn't be bothering their project anymore now that all sides had approved. Still, Matthew wasn't sure whether he should've felt relieved at the news or concerned that it felt like he was collaborating with an unknown third party without his permission. It also bothered him that Alfred kept disappearing into the forest whenever he had time to spare. The only reason Matthew decided not to press for more details about Arthur or their meetings was because, after everything they went through, Matthew decided that staying blissfully ignorant was the option that was likely to result in the least amount of headaches. 

He just hoped their efforts wouldn't be in vain and Alfred's heart wouldn't end in heartbreak.

Alfred was using his pocketknife to gently cut away the new growth on Arthur's back. He'd come up with the idea after a few pruning sessions and both spirit and human were surprised to find out that cutting was a painless option they had available to them. Alfred had been quite happy with the discovery, even if Arthur had been particularly wary about it at the start.

Arthur hummed as Alfred snipped off a daisy. "You seem to be progressing ahead of schedule."

"You've been okay, right?" Alfred asked, suddenly worried that Arthur had hidden an accusation in his question. "You haven't been affected too badly, have you?" 

"No, I'm holding up alright. Worry not." Arthur played with the grass by his feet and Alfred swore he could hear the spirit's smile through his voice.

Of course, at the end of the day, some damage to the forest had to be done, but Alfred had agreed to keep the clearing to the minimum Arthur indicated so that the spirit didn't suffer anything more than bouts of dizziness or fatigue. Arthur even shifted the landscape a little whenever Alfred needed things to be arranged a certain way and wanted to avoid any further damage. 

All in all, their arrangement was working and Alfred couldn't be more ecstatic. 

"That's good," Alfred replied, smiling in relief. "But let me know if something does happen, alright?"

"I will," Arthur sighed, relaxing against Alfred's touch. 

A month in each other's company led to a comfortable, familiar ease. It was like stepping into an existing space that already carried their shapes. All it took was some getting used to, a few lingering touches, and some catching up before it felt like time and distance never broke them apart in the first place.

On lazy days, Arthur recounted stories from his origin to exchange with Alfred's childhood times in New York while they basked in the afternoon sun. On clear, cool nights, the two stargazed on the cliff over the ocean as Alfred rested his head on Arthur's lap and explained the names humans gave the constellations. When the weather was particularly hot, they'd swim in the lake or let the rivers cool their feet. If they got caught in the rain, they'd either dance around in the summer shower or hide under some tree roots where Alfred would sneak in a wet kiss. 

There was the occasional disagreement, often a result of miscommunications around designs not meeting expectations. But usually, all it took was for Alfred to gently hold Arthur's hand and an exchange of mumbled apologies for raised voices and sharp words for the two to remember it was them versus the problem. 

Alfred cut off another daisy and laid it with the rest of the bouquet, frowning a little at the volume. "I'm a little surprised. These grew out a lot quicker than usual. And it seems like there's more of them each time. Are you sure you're okay?" 

Arthur had reassured him at the beginning that, other than the one time he fell unconscious, growth over time was normal. If anything, it was a good sign. But Alfred couldn't help feeling unease at the observation that the rate the flowers and foliage grew seemed to be increasing in speed and ferocity. What used to be a patch on a shoulder or his waist was now a blanket that shielded the entirety of his back. 

"I'm actually not too sure," Arthur replied hesitantly. "I certainly don't feel any different recently."

The answer did nothing to rid Alfred of his unease but he nodded. "Okay, well...as long as you're not feeling any worse. Just let me know if anything happens, okay?" 

He felt Arthur glance over his shoulder at him and he didn't need to look up to know the spirit was smirking at him, judging by the way his tone hid nothing. 

"Never took you for the worrying sort," Arthur teased. 

Alfred huffed, feeling his cheeks warm. "Yeah, well, I just don't want bad to happen to you, s'all." 

"You can be quite sweet at times you know?"

"I-I'm not— I don't—" Alfred stammered before finally settling on, "Hey, what do you mean 'at times'?"

Arthur just laughed at him and Alfred tried hard not to smile along. 

When the last flower was cut, Alfred was supposed to let Arthur know, gather up the bouquet, and figure out something else to do for the rest of the evening. But he strangely couldn't find it in himself tonight. He had realized a few weeks back that asking Arthur to trust him enough to leave his back turned to him was extremely intimate. In hindsight, he'd been surprised Arthur even agreed in the first place. It didn't seem wise to show your back to an enemy, but Alfred realized later on, with an ache in his heart, that maybe it was because Arthur had never seen him as an enemy. Not really, at least. The spirit had carried too much faith, too much hope, to really paint Alfred out as an adversary.

The memory of it tightened Alfred's throat as he let his eyes wander over Arthur's back, already unblemished save for a few freckles where the most recent stems had been cut. He reached out and lightly traced his fingertips down where the spine would be, feeling the cool skin against the warmth of his hands. He watched in secret delight as Arthur's body reacted to him, shivering before those beautiful green eyes looked over at him curiously. 

Alfred didn't lift his fingers. "You'll tell me if something happens?" he asked again. He knew he was being silly, asking for reassurance he had been granted multiple times already. But the worry gnawing at his stomach was particularly insistent tonight.

As if sensing this, Arthur fully turned around and gently took Alfred's hands into his. "I will," he assured. "I'll be fine."

"How can you be sure?" Alfred asked softly.

Arthur timidly smiled. The green of his eyes swirled with warmth. "I have you helping me, don't I?"

Alfred returned a meek smile. "Not sure if I'm actually helping but I'm trying."

"You're not making things worse anymore," he gently teased, squeezing Alfred's hands to really get across that he was teasing. "And you are helping. More than you know. The fact that you're trying to help at all is more than I can ask for..." Arthur paused. "You’re the first person who ever truly listened to me," he sighed, as if he was just realizing it himself. 

Alfred finally allowed himself to fully smile. "And I'll keep listening for as long as you need me to."

Arthur gave him a gentle swat on the arm. "You better."

It wasn't until later that night that Arthur realized that maybe he wouldn't be around long enough for Alfred to keep listening to him after all.

Chapter Text

A sudden sense of urgency startled Arthur from his dormant state and his consciousness shook awake.

Something was wrong.

Something was very wrong.

At first, Arthur frantically searched his forest for the source of the problem. But he couldn't find anything. All was calm in the middle of the night and everything was accounted for. Even when he stretched his awareness out to all corners of his land, the animals slept quietly, the insects gently stirred, and not a leaf was out of place.

But a deep panic violently swirled in Arthur's core and refused to subside. 

Something was wrong but what?

Desperate to ease away this twisted sense of unease, Arthur began to will his physical body to form.

And that's when he realized he couldn't. 

The panic skyrocketed.

Furiously willing his body to form, Arthur felt his powers pull and bend and stretch. He tried separating his consciousness from the forest, imagining himself anchored to the ground. Limbs. Hair. Eyes.

But it wasn't working.

Questions flooded his mind, clouding the solutions he was trying to think of. But this was new. This had never happened before. Arthur was starting to feel the panic turn to terror.

Pushing it away and trying to think straight, Arthur moved his consciousness to a focal point: a single tree. Maybe with enough concentration, his powers would prevail over whatever was holding him back.

Feeling his awareness condense from the leaves and down to the base of the tree, Arthur strained his mind harder. The air snapped and popped with pressure at his efforts. An enormous mass of energy, stronger than Arthur ever had to summon, swirled in his mind and expanded around what would be his soul. His concentration fought against the fear that threatened to overwhelm him as he willed a body to form.

One arm. Then another. His head. The neck.

Little by little, Arthur manually pulled his physical form into existence.

But the process was slow and excruciating. Every tug away from that unknown restraint was like dragging a knife down his skin. Even when he cried out in pain, they were swallowed by the darkness of the night. No one was there to witness the agony of a spirit splitting himself apart.

Finally creating his familiar form out of the base of the tree, Arthur felt something snap, as if the strings binding him had been cut, and he abruptly tumbled to the ground. He lay there on the ground for several, painful minutes, heaving for breath he technically didn't need as an awful ringing noise filled his ears. He watched parts of his body repair itself, leaving him sore and aching deep beneath the unscarred surface of his skin. 

"I don't— I don't understand," he choked. 

Then he immediately became aware of the growing weight on his back.

Turning his head to look, a new form of terror silenced the scream threatening to escape his throat. The flowers that had just been cut earlier that day were growing at a rapid rate, blooming and pushing out of his skin like time had fast-forwarded. The skin on his arms then started falling apart, turning into bark and dirt, crumbling off of him into dust. When Arthur tried to stand, to run, to escape, he fell right back down. He stared in horror at his decomposing feet as they grew roots that dug themselves back into the dirt, trying to pull the rest of him with them. 

He tried to will it to stop, to use his powers to get the rest of him to listen. But all he heard was silence and the sickening sound of creaking wood as his legs dug deeper and deeper into the ground. 

Something had been severed. The forest was no longer him. And Arthur realized with growing horror that the forest didn't want him there. 

Using all the strength he had left, Arthur pulled his feet free with agonizing effort, got up, and ran towards the lake.

Alfred had been calling out for Arthur for several minutes now but all he got was silence. He started to wonder whether Arthur couldn't hear him, but then realized that as long as he was in the forest, it was practically impossible for Arthur not to hear him. The forest was Arthur after all. He continued to walk down the gravel path, looking around for any sign of the spirit.

"Arthur?" he called. "You're not trying to scare me again, are you?" It wouldn't be the first time Arthur playfully hid from him. He seemed to have a bit of a mean streak when it came to finding joy in scaring the shit out of him. It didn't help that the teasing only got worse after Alfred accidentally let it slip that he hated ghosts.

Alfred scratched the back of his head. "He's not busy with something, is he?" Was it even possible for a spirit to be busy in the first place?

He kept following the gravel path away from Matthew's house and deeper into the forest, refusing to let his growing fear get the best of him. But with every unanswered call, the cold feeling blocking his throat made him feel sick to his stomach. 

Alfred searched near the fence bordering the construction site, the spots where they often hung out, but to no avail. Eventually, with nowhere left to go, Alfred arrived at the lake. 

Despite how worried he felt about the current situation, he couldn't help but feel his stomach mellow out at the blissful memories that seeing the lake brought to him - thoughts of the past month they spent together, the tender moments, the soft kisses, lingering touches...

Was he even allowed to feel this happy?

Apparently not because the moment his gaze turned to scan the lake, he saw Arthur lying upright in the middle of the the lake, motionless.

The warmth in Alfred's heart was fiercely ripped away from him.

"Arthur!" he cried, running towards the lake, slipping on the mud and down the slope. Ignoring the pain of his ankle twisting awkwardly on him, he pushed himself back up and ran into the cold water. 

Luckily, the water only reached his chest but his frantic movements quickly soaked the rest of him, forcing his movements to slow from the clothes that clung to him. Goddamnit, why was he so slow?!

"Arthur!" he kept shouting. "Arthur!"

The moment he reached him, Alfred scooped Arthur into his arms, cradling him to his chest. The spirit's eyes remained closed despite the rough movement, a calm expression on his face. 

"Oh, god, Arthur!" Alfred cried, giving the man a shake, voice cracking. "Arthur!"

Oh god. Oh god, oh god, oh god.'

Alfred looked around, a scream for help forcing its way up his throat, only to get caught when he realized there was nobody who could help. He felt his hands shaking, his body flushed cold with panic. His grip around Arthur's shoulders tightened and his eyes stung with frustrated tears. Looking back at the spirit, Alfred used a hand to frantically brush away the wet locks of hair out of Arthur's eyes and forehead, cradling his face as his cries broke in desperation. 

"Arthur?" he choked out. "Oh god, Arthur, please wake up, please." 

Alfred was only a second away from dragging him back to shore when the spirit stirred in his arms. Those brilliant green eyes slowly opened, closing and reopening several times before they focused on Alfred. When they recognized that it was Alfred staring down at him, they softened into affection and relief.

"Alfred?" he asked, barely above a whisper. His eyes were still heavy but a small smile was starting to pull at his lips. The rest of him looked so lifeless, his colour so dull, that Alfred felt despair clamp tighter around his chest. 

"Arthur!" Alfred sobbed in relief. "What happened to you? What's going on? No. Wait. Let me get you out of here first. How on earth did you end up—"

"No, don't!"

The way Arthur grasped his arm was meant to be quick, but it looked so strenuous that it took several seconds before the grip actually landed.

"I can't go back," Arthur urgently muttered, his face wincing in pain as if any movement, every breath, was agonizing. "I can't touch the earth." 

Still confused out of his mind but overwhelmed with the desire to see to Arthur's comfort first, Alfred reached underneath Arthur's legs and pulled his body into him. 

"What do you mean?" Alfred breathed shakily, trying to calm his frazzled nerves. "What's going on?"

Arthur placed a hand over Alfred's chest and Alfred felt his heart reaching out in response, beating loudly and wildly. From the look on Arthur's haggard face, it looked like it brought him some sort of comfort. 

"I don’t know for certain but...it seems my connection with the forest has been severed. I— It's like it has its own will now. I can't control it anymore."

Alfred frowned. "I-I don't understand, what do you mean? I thought the forest was you."

Arthur shook his head, the hand on Allfred's chest clutched into a weak fist. Alfred could feel it shaking at the effort.

"I don't know what happened but it feels different now. It felt like there was something else that didn't want me to be here," Arthur said miserably. "The moment this body touches land, it starts to lose its shape."

Then Alfred noticed the large number of flower petals floating around them and registered the pressure cutting up against the arm he had circled around Arthur's shoulders. The flowers he had cut just the day before had completely regenerated at a much larger scale. Alfred gently combed a hand through some of them, a complicated mess of admiration for their beauty and bitterness of their return burned inside him. 

"Is this part of it?" he asked. 

Arthur nodded. "It took everything I had to get this form back but I was too tired to both with those."

"And is that why you're in the lake?"

"It's the only place where I'm not touching the earth," Arthur explained, taking in a shuddering breath as he looked over his body. "It was like my magic was falling apart. Like it wasn't mine to have anymore. I wasn't sure what was happening but I knew that if I didn't fight to keep this form, I might lose myself permanently. And I just— I couldn't—"

Alfred held him closer, feeling his own body shaking as it fought to breathe. He realized in delayed horror that if Arthur had been unsuccessful, he could've lost him forever. 

"What the hell is going on?" he murmured into Arthur's hair. 

"I wish I knew," Arthur sighed. "I've never heard of this happening to any of my kind before."

"What should we do then?" Alfred asked. "Is there a way to fix this?" 

"I might be able to find out more if I contact the others. There are spirits who've lived longer than I have but," Arthur hesitated, "that means I'll have to leave the water. If my soul returns to the forest—"

"Then there's no telling if you'll be able to come back," Alfred finished quietly. "This is just like the time I found you unconscious. Do you think—" Alfred sucked in a breath, dread seizing at his throat again. "Does this have something to do with the project? Is this my fault?" 

"No!" Arthur gripped at his chest, clinging to the wetness of his shirt. "This can't be your fault, Alfred."

"But you don't—"

"I've survived worse things than your project, Alfred. I refuse to believe that what you're doing is the cause of this." Arthur looked at him with so much fierce conviction despite how exhausted he was that Alfred felt his heart swell. He still wasn't convinced but for Arthur's sake, he couldn't find it in himself to continue down that line of thought. 

He squeezed Arthur's shoulder. "Alright," he said softly, relenting. "But we need to think of something else. You can't stay in this lake forever."

Arthur seemed to consider this. "It...might be inconvenient but I don't see why it can't be a temporary solution." 

"Won't you, I don't know, catch a cold or something?" Alfred asked, trying to think of a better temporary solution. 

Arthur's lips twitched up but he sighed forlornly instead. "Spirits don't catch colds, Alfred."

"What if you drown then?" Alfred pressed. 

"I can't drown."

"Plants can drown," Alfred pointed out.

For someone so drained, Arthur looked positively scandalized. "I'm not a plant— forget it, we're getting off track here. What I mean is that, for now, it'll be best if I stay here to regain as much strength back as I can. Maybe once I feel better enough, I can try to head back onto land."

"But you'll still be risking getting absorbed back into the earth," Alfred said, frowning. 

"...So long as I need to contact my kind, I think that risk will always be there," Arthur agreed gravely, laughing warily after a sigh. "I guess this means you won't have to hold back on your construction anymore with me out of the way."

Alfred's teeth clenched together so quickly they both heard it click.

"How can you say that?" Alfred demanded, voice rising in pitch. "After everything, do you really think so little of me? Have you not realized how much you mean to me?"

Arthur's eyes were wide, clearly surprised Alfred had taken it so deeply, but then his expression quickly melted into an apologetic smile. He raised a hand to cup Alfred's cheek - a weak, gentle touch.

"I've hurt you," he sighed. "I'm sorry."

Alfred's frown mellowed into a pout as he leaned into Arthur's touch. "There's gotta be some other way. I won't have you stay here forever. And I won't risk losing you either."

"Then how else will I figure out what's happening to me?"

"I'll do some research. Maybe someone in town knows some legends or I can search the internet for some answers."

"And what if you can't find anything?"

"...I'll find something. There's gotta be something." 

It was practically a lie and a horribly empty promise, but Arthur had to smile. "Now you're just being stubborn."

"Hey, I get results from it," Alfred said, smiling weakly and turning his head to press a kiss into Arthur's palm. "I don't want to let you here like this but I'll be back soon, okay? Will you be okay?"

"As alright as I can be," Arthur replied, returning the smile.

Slowly, Alfred let Arthur float in the water on his own, noticing how the spirit was careful not to let his feet touch the ground just in case. Giving Arthur one more smile, Alfred slowly waded his way back to land, the discomfort of leaving Arthur there on his own growing with the distance he was putting between them.

But suddenly, he had an idea.

Alfred paused just a few feet away from the edge of the lake and turned back to Arthur who was still watching him.

"Would anything happen if you left the forest?" he asked. "Your body, I mean."

Arthur frowned. "Left the forest?" he echoed.

"Yeah, like— if your body was to leave the boundaries of your territory."

Arthur blinked, clearly surprised at the sudden question and unsure where Alfred was going with this.

"I don't believe anything would happen, I don't think. As long as the forest is intact, I'll be alright— wait, why do you ask?"

Alfred had already begun wading back towards him. "Oh, no reason," he replied, clearly lying.

Arthur started pedalling himself backwards, barely moving anywhere with the lack of strength he had in his limbs.

"Alfred, what are you planning?" he asked cautiously. "Alfred? Alfred, what are you—? You can't possibly be thinking of—!"

Alfred scooped Arthur back into his arms.

Arthur squeaked in surprise. "Alfred, what are you doing?!"

"I'm taking you home with me," he replied nonchalantly.

"I'm sorry, what?" 

"You'll be safer there. Away from touching the earth and all that."

"No, no, I can't possibly—!"

"That way, I won't have to leave you behind and I can keep an eye on you."

"Alfred, are you out of your—?!"

"Oh! And you can finally meet Mattie!"

"Alfred, listen to me!"

But Alfred didn't, and the rest of the spirit's profanities were lost to the wind.

Chapter Text

"Mattie...Yo, Mattie!"

When the Canadian didn't seem to be capable of finding any brain cells to use, Alfred rolled his eyes and threw a couch cushion at his cousin.

"Goddamn it, Matt, snap out of it."

The cushion hit Matthew's shoulder and the Canadian blinked, turning to blankly look wide-eyed at his cousin.

"What?"

"You're staring."

Matthew looked down at the fallen cushion on the floor, then back to Alfred sitting across from him.

"So was that for me being rude or just you being jealous?"

Alfred puffed up like a bird, cheeks colouring red. "I-It was for being rude!" he huffed before muttering sarcastically as an afterthought, "Glad to see your brain's functioning enough to embarrass me though." 

Matthew pointedly ignored the second bit and turned to face the man beside Alfred. "Arthur, was it? Sorry if I uh...made you uncomfortable." 

"Not at all," Arthur replied with a weak smile, shifting around in his seat. "You have every reason to, I suppose."

It didn't sound very convincing to Matthew, but he took it anyway. What else was he supposed to do at this point? 

He had been woken up that morning to the sound of Alfred having a frantic conversation with someone downstairs, the volume of his voice barely contained in frantic, hushed whispers. Out of curiosity and mild annoyance, Matthew got up to see what the commotion was about.

The last thing he was expecting to see was his cousin cutting off flowers growing out of another man's back.

Just as he was about to head back to bed, convinced that he was hallucinating, Alfred spotted him up on the landing. Without being allowed the opportunity to go change or brush his teeth, Alfred dragged him to the living room, sat him down on the couch, and excitedly made incompetent introductions.

So here Matthew was, still in his pyjamas, with his dishevelled hair and morning breath, without his glasses, sitting across from a man who he was sure wasn't real up until a few minutes ago. 

What a morning this was turning out to be.

Matthew really hadn't meant to stare so intently, but his sleep-addled brain needed extra time to process what he was seeing. Arthur was currently bundled up in a tartan blanket but it didn't hide his translucent skin, the green veins visible on his neck, the jewel-like eyes, the foliage just growing out of him—

Matthew sighed and pressed his palms into his eyes, letting the silence stretch because he couldn't believe Alfred was making him deal with this first thing in the morning before he even had his coffee.

"See, I told you he was real," Alfred said proudly.

Matthew glanced at Arthur, not appreciating his cousin's haughtiness. "How do I know you didn't just hire someone to play the part?" But even then, his question didn't sound like it had any weight behind it.

Alfred's expression visibly soured. "Okay, now you're just being stubborn. You really think I'd go through all that trouble?"

"I don't know what to think anymore, Al!" Matthew groaned, throwing his arms up in exasperation. "I'm still trying to convince myself that everything you've told me about this guy is real! That I'm not hallucinating all of this!"

To everyone's surprise, Arthur spoke first.

"It's surprising that, for someone who used to see 'hallucinations' too, you're having an awfully difficult time coming to terms with all this."

Matthew frowned. "What?"

"Well, I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised considering how I've realized how human children forget things so easily after all." He raised an eyebrow at Alfred as if providing a case in point. 

Alfred blinks. "That's...not directed at me, is it?"

"Not at all."

"Hey, I thought you got—"

"Wait, wait," Matthew interrupted. "What do you mean I used to see hallucinations too?"

Arthur smiled and Matthew didn't like that he was being led by the nose into this. "You really want to know?"

"I'd rather not have empty statements thrown at me, thanks," he said flatly.

"Then answer me this." Arthur's eyes gleamed. "Are you still afraid of the dark, Matthew?"

Matthew visibly stiffened. How did he...

"...No," he eventually answered. It wasn't a complete lie but it wasn't the whole truth either.

"He used to be," Alfred added on, trying to be helpful. "But that was back in elementary school, I think."

"Shut up, Al," Matthew bit through gritted teeth.

Ignoring them, Arthur continued. "And during those frightening nights, who was there to comfort you? Who helped you to sleep when not even your nightlight was enough to chase away those haunting shadows?"

"No one did. My parents tried but they'd never stayed for long."

"For someone who didn't receive much help, you often slept quite well despite your fears, wouldn't you say?" Arthur stared at him and Matthew felt like he was being stared into. "Think harder," Arthur suggested.

And Matthew did try. He liked to think he put in a very good effort. But there was only so much thinking he could do in his current dishevelled state and it took him only a few seconds of searching his memories before he gave up.

Shaking his head, he said, "I honestly can't rememb—"

"A certain polar bear cub misses you, you know."

Matthew froze. It took him a few more seconds to replay the words in his mind to make sure he'd heard them correctly. The question and the sudden subject matter were thrown at him so suddenly, it was jarring.

"I-I'm sorry?" he sputtered out eventually.

"When you dream, it's often of the same polar bear cub, isn't it?"

"I— yes, but...how did you know that?"

Arthur's expression softened with so much pity and sadness that Matthew had the sudden urge to apologize despite not knowing why. 

"Kumajiro is one of the magical creatures of my forest," Arthur explained. "When you were younger and still feared the dark, he heard your cries and often came to comfort you. Although," he chuckled, "despite considering each other friends, neither of you could ever properly remember the other's name."

Matthew tested the name on his tongue. "Kuma...jiro..." It sounded so familiar and yet.

Alfred looked at his cousin thoughtfully. "You often tell me you have dreams of eating pancakes with a polar bear."

Matthew was at a complete loss of words. "But...those were just dreams."

Arthur shook his head. "They're only dreams because you've lost your ability to see him when conscious."

"Why did I lose it?" he asked. What bothered Matthew most was that he vaguely did remember falling asleep while holding something comforting in his arms. But he had just assumed it had been a stuffed animal or something. At least, certainly not some kind of forest creature made of magic.

"Most human children can see all sorts of creatures when they're young and their minds are boundless and free, but once they get older, they lose that unlimitedness and begin to lose their sight. You just so happened to be one of them," Arthur said. "After that, the only way creatures like Kumajiro can be seen is through your dreams. However, it's not an easy task considering what little magic they have in the first place."

"Then why can I see you?"

"This body of mine is material," was Arthur's plain answer. "Unlike some of the smaller creatures, I have the ability to make one. Otherwise, my form is hardly any different from theirs."

Letting out a heavy sigh, Matthew moved to take his glasses off to rub at his face, only to discover he didn't have his glasses on and was left with his hand awkwardly suspended in midair. All of the questions seemed to be answered logically - as logical as spirits and magic and dream visions were.

"Alright, fine. Let's just say everything you're telling me is true," Matthew moved on, eventually deciding to rub at his face anyway. "What was it that Alfred was talking about earlier about why he brought you here?"

"He's in trouble," Alfred interjected. "I think the forest's rejecting him."

Matthew frowned. At this rate, he would have premature wrinkles soon from all the frowning he was doing this morning. "The forest is rejecting him? I thought you said he is the forest."

"He is," Alfred agreed before hesitating. "Or, uh— he was until today." 

Arthur laid a hand gently on Alfred's shoulder with a look so fond Matthew felt like he needed to give him space.

"Alfred, I think it's better if I cleared things up. It's my business after all." When Alfred nodded reluctantly, he turned his piercing gaze back over to Matthew. "You're technically correct. I'm not a being of the forest, I am the forest. I just call it mine for simplicity's sake." Arthur placed a hand on his chest, feeling its lack of a heartbeat. "This body is simply a physical extension of the forest - a house for the soul, a proxy, if you will - that I created from my will and magic."

Matthew slowly nodded, trying to take the information at face value and not get distracted by how everything sounded like it was coming from one of Alfred's video games.

Arthur dropped his hand back onto his lap and stared at it in something like betrayal. "But something happened last night. I'm still trying to understand it myself but it's like the forest and I have separated. Like it's developed its own will. I felt it preventing me from forming this physical body and even after I managed to do it, I immediately began to decompose and almost got reabsorbed back into the earth."

"And that's why you ran into a lake?" Matthew asked.

Arthur nodded. "The lake was the only place where I wouldn't need to touch land, so I was able to find refuge there. I had planned to stay there temporarily to recover and think of a solution but then Alfred, here," he shot him a look, "found me and carried me here despite my protests."

Alfred raised his hands up defensively. "It's a good solution!" he argued. "You'll be able to walk around freely here without worrying that you'll accidentally touch the earth or something."

"I admit this allows me more freedom but there was no need for you to carry me like—" Arthur fumbles, looking embarrassed as he fought to form words while remembering their position, before finally spatting, "i-in such an undignified manner all the way here."

"It was the easiest way to do it!" Alfred protested.

Matthew almost snorted loud enough for them to hear. Alfred always did enjoy being the hero.

"So," he pressed on to more important matters at hand. "Still no idea why this is happening to you?" 

Arthur gave Alfred one more heated look before shifting his attention back to Matthew. He shook his head.

"After some thinking, I wondered if it'd had to do with my... usefulness. One of the benefits of this body is that it allows me to have a voice. To communicate with humans and defend myself against any threats. Because I had successfully persuaded Alfred to rethink his construction methods, there wasn't a need for a physical body anymore."

Matthew considered this, then frowned. "But it doesn't explain why the forest's will is separate from yours now. If it's a benefit, why is it deciding to remove the option for you now?" 

Arthur shook his head. "My exact thoughts. The forest seems to be disagreeing with me." 

"What would it be disagreeing with you about?" Alfred asked.

"Maybe..." Matthew deliberated. "Maybe it's about the project?

Arthur hummed. "That could be a reason but it'd be confusing if it was. I've given you boundaries that are well within my limits, all things considered."

"But what if that doesn't matter?" Matthew pointed out. "From what Alfred had told me, you wanted the entire project to stop, didn't you?"

"Before, yes," Arthur confirmed.

"So what changed?" 

Arthur stilled. Dropping his gaze to somewhere on the floor, he started to squirm a little in his seat. From the one, quick glance he shot in Alfred's direction, Matthew could slowly feel the pieces of a puzzle slide into place. 

"This is just a thought," Matthew began carefully, "but maybe, just maybe, the disagreement's about Alfred." 

Alfred startled at this, face draining of colour. "Me?" he gaped. 

"No," Arthur immediately declared, surprisingly firm. 

"And why not?" Matthew challenged. 

"Alfred's thought of this too, but I refuse to consider it. Like I told him, I've survived worse things than your little project," he said, the last bit coming out as a bit of a sneer like he was offended at being underestimated.

It was sort of touching to see how fiercely protective Arthur was over his cousin, but Matthew didn't relent. 

"That's not what I mean," he insisted. 

Arthur sniffed. "Then what do you mean?"  

"I'm not talking about the project. I'm talking about Alfred." When it was clear neither of the individuals across from him understood, Matthew sighed. "Again, this is just a thought, but think about it. Sure, your body is a benefit to protecting the forest. It's the only way you can talk to people like Alfred and me and convince us to back off. But what if it wasn't Alfred that you had to talk to? What if it was just some other random construction company led by people you don't have a history with? Would you have ended up in the same place?" 

"I—" Then Arthur's words died in his throat.

Matthew knew Arthur was instinctually going to disagree with him. But that just further proved his point. 

"My guess is that if it was anyone else, you would've done everything in your power to get rid of them completely. You threatened Alfred with taking lives but you never did. Because it was Alfred," he pointed out. "You compromised because it was Alfred. And considering how things look right now, I have a feeling the forest didn't want to compromise."

Matthew stared hard into Arthur's green eyes which were slowly growing increasingly distressed with every second that passed. He saw the realization hit. The dread it dragged along with it. Beside him, Alfred looked like he was going to be sick. Realizing that he was quickly turning into the bearer of bad, although hypothetical, news, Matthew backed off a little guiltily and softened his tone. 

"If your feelings towards Alfred are even remotely similar to how he feels for you, the forest is either protecting you or is now seeing you as a threat."

Arthur was gripping the blanket so hard, that his hands turned completely white and Matthew sighed. 

"But again. Just a thought," he said weakly, offering a pathetic olive branch. 

The moments after were a blur to Alfred. He felt like he couldn't think or feel or hear properly after Matthew shared his deductions with them. Technically, that's all they were. Deductions. Hypotheticals. Theories. But with how heavy the silence was after Matthew left for work and it was just him and Arthur left on the couches, Alfred knew that his cousin's theories contained too much truth behind them to just casually dismiss them. Dimly, Alfred couldn't decide whether or not he wanted to thank Matthew for his straightforwardness or loathe him for it.

Arthur broke the silence first. "It's...the most reasonable explanation so far."

"There has to be another reason," Alfred immediately rebutted. "There just— It can't be— Why—?!"

And that one was as good of a question as any.

Alfred felt like the world had flipped him upside down and tossed him straight into the darkest depths of the ocean. He couldn't stop how frantically his heart was beating or feel any warmth past his wrists. His body was struggling to work through what Matthew had just hit them with and as hard as he was trying to deny it, the panic of how correct and reasonable it all sounded was shutting him down. Over the sound of blood rushing in his ears, Alfred heard his breathing speed up.

Arthur placed a gentle hand on his arm and Alfred honed it on it desperately. 

"Alfred, look at me." 

With great effort, he did. Part of him was terrified Arthur would be upset with him, blame him. Figure out that his spirit friends were right all along and that he had been wrong to put his faith in him. But when all he saw was kindness and concern and love—

Alfred choked out a dry sob.

"I love you," he whispered. 

The soft smile he got in return could melt the coldest winters. It was the brightest he had ever seen Arthur glow.

"And I love you," the spirit replied. 

"More than the forest," Alfred said, distraught that something so precious, so sacred, was the reason Arthur had been cast out. 

Arthur just kept smiling, barely turning sad even though it was shattering Alfred's heart into pieces. 

"More than the forest," he agreed.

Chapter Text

Alfred heard the door to the patio slide open, followed by soft footsteps. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Arthur sit down next to him on the patio steps, the blanket still wrapped up around him like a protective cocoon. They shared the silence peacefully for a long while, both looking out into the forest stretched out in front of them. 

Dinner had been a little awkward, with Arthur not needing to eat anything and Alfred barely having the appetite to chew on some potatoes. Matthew hadn't brought up the conversation they had earlier that day and Alfred could tell he was purposefully avoiding the topic. He felt marginally grateful for that, but it didn't stop the dread from digging a hole in his stomach. 

Arthur placed a gentle hand on the nape of his neck, his fingers lightly playing with the short hair there.

"Thinking?" he asked simply.

Alfred laughed through his nose. "That's an understatement," he replied dryly. 

"What Matthew said today was really just a theory," Arthur said. "Like you said, maybe there's another reason for all this."

"You're being surprisingly optimistic," Alfred grunted. 

"And you're surprisingly being quite the opposite," Arthur replied. 

Alfred kept staring out into the forest. It was hard to believe the place he adored had turned into his worst nightmare overnight. He had tried everything to protect it. To protect Arthur. Yet, what came out of it all? Arthur was cast out and stranded.

"I can't imagine what this feels like for you," Alfred said miserably. "To be...basically cut out of your body."

Arthur turned his gaze to the forest, thoughtful. "It's not pleasant," he admitted softly. "I suddenly feel so much...smaller than I usually am. My very breath had controlled the wind. A flick of my wrist and the trees would listen. I could see everything. Hear everything. But now...it's just quiet." 

Alfred swallowed around the lump in his throat with difficulty. It sounded no better than a bird who's lost its wings. 

Arthur shifted closer gently pressed up against him. Wrapping an arm around him, Alfred pressed a soft kiss into his hair. They continued to share the silence, comfortable despite the heavy reality of it all hanging like a guillotine above their heads. 

"I'm sorry," Alfred murmured eventually. "You're experiencing the worst of it but it feels like you're comforting me."

"You seem to need it more," Arthur said, and Alfred felt his body shake a little from his chuckling. "I appreciate you caring so deeply for me, Alfred, really. But I wish you wouldn't beat yourself up over it. All things considered, I'm fine with where things are at."

"You don't need to lie to me to make me feel better," Alfred groaned. "How can you be fine when you've been reduced to— when you've lost so much of who you are?" 

"I'm not lying," Arthur insisted. "I'd like to think I'm still me. Maybe I'm not as strong as I used to be but I have my will, my feelings, and some slivers of my power left. At the end of the day, if Matthew's theory is true, it's sort of my fault for all of this happening in the first place. Not that I regret having feelings for you, of course. I'm fine, Alfred, really."

"But Arthur, I'm not fine with it." Alfred put a small amount of distance between them just enough to catch Arthur's eyes. He couldn't understand why he looked so calm. "How can I be when I know my feelings are killing you?"

Arthur shook his head and took Alfred's hand into a tight grip. "This is between me and the forest. The forest didn't separate from me because of your feelings for me. It separated because of my feelings for you."

Alfred searched Arthur's eyes, his voice breaking at the desperation and pain threatening to overcome him. "But if it weren't for me, you wouldn't have to choose between me or the forest. The forest would've never separated from you in the first place."

"Oh, Alfred." Arthur rolled his eyes rather fondly. "I do wish you'd stop blaming yourself. Perhaps I'm choosing myself too, haven't you thought of it that way? I was the one who chose to cut myself off. I could've stayed as part of the forest, never to take on this form ever again. But I didn't want that. For several reasons! You just happened to be the main one." 

Alfred stared hard at Arthur's face, searching for anything that might be hidden beneath his expression of certainty and acceptance. When he couldn't find anything, he heaved out a heavy sigh and bundled Arthur closer into him, burying his face into Arthur's shoulder. He felt Arthur rub soothing circles into his back, affectionately scolding him for squeezing too tightly. 

Alfred knew that, regardless of how guilty he felt, it wouldn't change anything. It was officially too late. The damage was done. But the lack of answers and the reality of their circumstances limiting their options were just so frustrating.

"I can't lose you," Alfred whispered. "If you disappeared, I—" He choked on the rest of that thought. He couldn't finish. 

Arthur had taken to brushing a hand through Alfred's hair now, and Alfred focused on the comfortable coolness of that touch with a force greater than gravity, trying to ground himself before his emotions were too much to hold back. 

"You'll never really lose me, Alfred," Arthur soothed. "Even if I do somehow end up losing this form of mine, I'll always live on so long as the forest still stands. If the forest really intends to take me back because of my feelings for you then so be it. It's not like I can just will away my feelings for you."

Alfred shook his head, his forehead rubbing against the fabric of the blanket which had already started to smell of petrichor and earth. Of Arthur. 

"I still don't get how you can accept all of this so easily," he grumbled. 

"Well, maybe 'easy' wouldn't be the word I'd use," Arthur countered, "but compared to the thought of being destroyed by humans - by you, back at the start - and losing my soul in the process, my current circumstance can't nearly compare. For starters, I still have my soul. I'm still technically alive and will continue to be in the foreseeable future."

Alfred ignored the pessimistic voice in his head and kept focusing on Arthur's hand in his hair. Then Arthur leaned away slightly to take Alfred's face into his hands, the earth meeting the sky.

"And secondly," Arthur continued, a thumb drifting across Alfred's cheek, "I still have my will. My free will. I can be free to love you."

"But you're not free," Alfred said, trying not to sob. "You can never directly touch the earth ever again." 

Arthur opened his mouth to speak, but then Alfred watched as something like guilt and grief washed over his expression when he turned his eyes away, dropping his hands from cradling Alfred's face. Mourning the loss of that touch, Alfred quickly wrapped Arthur's hands into his.

"What?" he asked. "What is it?" He watched and waited for Arthur to finish the internal battle he seemed to be having, and with a sigh that meant he lost, Arthur turned his eyes back to Alfred's.

"Not 'ever again'," Arthur said with a helpless smile, "but temporarily." 

Alred frowned. "I don't— what do you mean?" 

"As long as the forests still stand, spirits like us can't really die," Arthur said softly. "But humans can."

Alfred stilled. 

Oh...

Oh.

Arthur was right. His freedom really was only temporarily limited. He still had the potential to touch the earth again and return to the forest, his true form, that he'd protected for thousands of years. He eventually will, with all certainty.

After all, why would he care about needing a body once Alfred was dead? 

"Oh, god," Alfred breathed, voice extremely strained. 

It was quite silly, Alfred thought in a flash of hindsight, that the reality that Arthur would outlive him had never once crossed his mind.

His hands began to shake and Arthur's face grew increasingly concerned. 

"Alfred, humans have a shorter life span than we do," he said slowly, carefully, studying the movement of Alfred's face. "I'm telling you this because I want you to realize that my current situation isn't worth you incriminating yourself like this. If anything, it's all the more reason for me to be okay with this. So please don't blame yourself for this, Alfred, don't— I don't want you to think that what we have is wrong or that the choices we made together were a mistake. Everything that's led us to this point is my responsibility too. But I don't regret a single thing, do you understand?" 

Alfred still couldn't stop his hands from shaking even with Arthur squeezing them, but he found it in himself to return a weak nod. "I just feel— powerless," he said, taking in a shuddering breath. "All of this is happening and I can't do anything about it."

"You can," Arthur urged. "By just being here with me. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes," Alfred whispered, feeling like he was melting, then stronger, "yes." 

"Then that's where we'll start."

Letting out an airy laugh, Alfred took in a few more deep breaths before his hands stopped shaking and warmth returned to his fingertips. Arthur was right. One step at a time.

"I could push you around in a wheelchair," he murmured after a long stretch of silence. "Take you out into the forest that way if you really wanted to go back in there. Or the lake."

Arthur nodded. "That's an idea."

"Or," Alfred continued, finding enough energy to flash him a weak smile, "I could carry you everywhere."

That got him an offended snort. 

"Don't you dare," Arthur huffed, only his eyes giving away the affection he actually felt. 

Alfred's smile softened into something painfully genuine. Opening his arms, he welcomed Arthur leaning back against him, sighing at the contact and the way it soothed his aching heart. 

"I wouldn't mind. I'd carry you forever, if I could," he commented wistfully, placing his chin on Arthur's head. Then he continued thoughtfully, "You can pass off as a human really easily. We'd just need to prune you more often. I had plans to head back home once the project was over, but maybe I could figure something out. Stick around if Mattie doesn't want to share the house. Or if you'd rather find another forest in the world to visit, we could do that instead."

"You're thinking quite thoroughly," Arthur said, and Alfred could hear the smile in his voice. "What other ideas have you thought of?"

Alfred's felt his cheeks warm. "Not that many, to be honest," he mumbled. "Just starting to think about it now after what you said."

"Tell me more," Arthur requested gently. "I'd like to hear them."

And so Alfred told him. Of the small ideas he had for their future and the grand gestures he wanted to make for him. He desperately wanted Arthur to feel like he made the right choice, trusting him, and that Arthur would never regret his decision. He must've eventually admitted that out loud without realizing it because somewhere in between his rambles, Arthur gave his hand a squeeze. 

Alfred was just telling him about how he looked into preserving the flowers he'd gathered from Arthur when Arthur interrupted him with a gentle call of his name.

Alfred lowered his head a little. 

"Yeah?" he asked. 

Arthur tilted his head up. "I love you."

And Alfred smiled brightly for the first time that day. 

Chapter Text

Several months later, Arthur's skin began to crumble.

Summer was ending and the leaves of Arthur's forest were turning into brilliant shades of fire outside the windows by the time he made the discovery.

Standing on the patio, Arthur walked towards the railings, resting his elbows on them as he studied the forest. With Alfred and Matthew out of the house for work, the quiet often brought Arthur outside as he unconsciously yearned for something to comfort him in his times of loneliness.

It was never truly silent in the forest.

Arthur inhaled the musky air, closing his eyes to savor the scent and letting the rays of the setting sun warm his face. It had rained the night before, causing a large number of leaves to become plastered to the dirt. As the wind brushed through the canopy, Arthur could feel the remaining droplets wet his skin, their impact cool and soothing. From within the depths of the forest, he could hear the rustling of critters. A bird call. The insects.

And something inside of Arthur ached.

He opened his eyes to take in the colour surrounding him, the green of his eyes now contrasting against the flame of the leaves.

This homesickness of his wasn't anything new. He had expected it to happen sooner or later but it bothered him that it happened sooner than later. He had originally thought he'd be fine living in Matthew's house considering its large size. The freedom Alfred had promoted before had been true and on most days, it was enough. 

But his body thought differently.

His fingers yearned for the rough drag of bark, the uneven earth, the brush of leaves. His feet ached to sink into the dirt, the grass, the sand.

It was like an itch he couldn't quite scratch and it tore at him in the worst days.

Of course, Alfred had done his best to help Arthur cope. While they did end up getting a wheelchair at first, it now sat abandoned near the front door after they realized it was really meant to get dragged over raised roots and mud. This meant Alfred carried him to the lake whenever he requested it, much to Alfred's joy and Arthur's (halfhearted) dismay. After some cautious testing, Alfred even bought him a pair of runners he could use whenever he felt the urge to walk through the forest himself. They worked hard to brainstorm every idea they could come up with to let Arthur be as close to the earth as possible without direct contact. 

Still, it couldn't fully heal the ache Arthur felt inside him.

Yet, he regretted nothing.

Even if the ache was too stubborn to disappear completely, the past few months with Alfred had been more than enough to satisfy the rest of him and balance out the scales.

Arthur never tired of the way Alfred's eyes lit up whenever he came home and found him waiting. Sparks would light up in his chest when they relaxed in each other's arms after dinner as they recalled the events of the day, often with Alfred's head on Arthur's lap. Arthur felt nothing short of adoration whenever Alfred fulfilled his requests, no matter how small they were or how discreet and vague he had been about them. If anything, Alfred often knew what he wanted before he did. Arthur knew the man was always listening, always watching, always caring in the ways he knew how, and it was breathtaking.

On days when Alfred didn't have work, he took Arthur out. First, they went to a library. Then, the movies. A few weeks later, Alfred found his guitar and showed him what music sounded like, getting especially enthusiastic when Arthur grew flustered when Alfred pulled out his western drawl.

Little by little, Arthur learned what it was like to live as a human, just as he taught Alfred what it was like to live as a spirit.

In the present, Arthur smiled to himself as the memories flooded his head. How exciting life had become now that he had left the safety of his forest.

A passing breeze blew some stray leaves onto the porch, some getting caught by Arthur's ankles and the blanket he had wrapped himself in. He bent down to pick one up, turning it around in his fingers to admire its gradient colours.

But when the texture suddenly felt grainy, Arthur froze. He let the leaf go and it fluttered lifelessly to the ground.

Arthur stared at his fingers, a wave of fear dragged slowly and painfully through his body.

The skin on his fingertips was crumbling off, revealing dark dirt underneath a broken shell. Seeing that his other fingers also carried thin cracks that ran down and across his hands, Arthur dropped the blanket and searched the rest of his body, horrified to see that there were even more marks tracing up his arms and legs. He tentatively picked at the scabs forming by his wrist, immediately drawing his away when more of his skin fell away in flakes.

Then he heard the front door close and he scrambled to pick the blanket back up, wrapping it around himself just in time for Alfred to jog out the backdoor and pull him into a hug.

"I'm back," Alfred said happily into his shoulder. "I knew you'd be out here." 

Arthur returned the hug, hoping that Alfred wouldn't notice that he wasn't squeezing back as tightly as he usually did.

"Welcome back," he sighed contently into Alfred's chest. "How was work?" When Alfred jokingly pulled a face in response, he laughed. "That bad?"

"Nah, I'm just kidding." Alfred planted a light kiss on Arthur's forehead. "Everything's working out really well. Saw some radiant heating systems get installed today so nothing super exciting. But that just means everything's going well, so I can't complain too much."

"I'm happy to hear it's working out well."

"And you? Don't tell me you spent the whole day out here again."

Arthur shook his head. "I just came out a few minutes ago."

"Still, it's getting really chilly out these days. Glad you got yourself a blanket. Make sure you don't catch a cold or anything."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I told you spirits don't catch colds, Alfred. We barely even feel the cold."

"Well, you never know. Things are different for you now so we gotta be extra careful," said Alfred, purposefully emphasizing the heroic tone of his words.

"Right, of course," Arthur said, playing along. 

"So anything interesting happened today?" Alfred asked.

"Hm, not really."

"Are you sure? You looked kind of bummed out when I saw you."

Arthur felt his injured fingers involuntarily flinch and he shrunk just a little bit more into the blanket.

"Did I? Maybe I was just feeling a little lonely without you here."

Alfred bloomed into a blinding smile, his cheeks warming just a shade darker.

"What, you missed me?"

"Cheeky, of course I did." Arthur wrapped the blanket tighter around himself and straightened up. "Now let's go inside before you catch a cold."

Days passed and the skin by Arthur's wrist began to tear. Some dark patches had started to reveal themselves on the inside of his thigh as well.

Arthur was just glad they were in places that could easily be hidden.

Halloween was the day Arthur felt brave enough to go into town for the first time. They'd been outside before, of course, but not in the open like this.

Arthur worried about his appearance, at first, especially after they had realized a while back that using his powers to change his appearance drained him of enough energy to leave him bedridden for a week. But Alfred reassured him that others would only think he was wearing a costume. When even Matthew encouraged him to go, Arthur relented and agreed.

To walk among so many humans so casually was both nerve-wracking and exhilarating. Arthur kept asking Alfred about the strange costumes they wore and what they represented. He even tried licking a lollipop after Alfred told him that it was mostly made of sugar, both of them laughing at how it turned a few of his veins blue from the colouring. 

But any happiness Arthur rode on that night was quickly extinguished upon returning home to find his entire forearm now covered in cracks, skin peeling away at the slightest crease of his skin. It didn't hurt, but it was a whole other level of pain to watch his body fall apart right in front of his eyes.

From that night onwards, Arthur would always try to find an excuse for Alfred to head to bed first. Whenever Alfred asked why, Arthur would come up with a new one or recycle through old ones. 

Eventually, Alfred stopped asking, accepted the new routine, and Arthur breathed a little easier.

Most of the leaves had fallen off when Arthur asked Alfred if he could borrow a shirt.

Arthur often borrowed Alfred's clothes whenever they went out, but he had always preferred his usual lack of human clothes whenever they were at home save for the occasional blanket. So when Alfred asked why, Arthur simply smiled.

"Maybe I am starting to feel a little chilly now that winter's on its way." He hid his arm behind his back, the movement causing more flakes of skin to crumble off his dark forearm.

Alfred laughed, oblivious. "Sure, take whatever you need."

He didn't ask any more questions.

A few days after the first snowfall, Arthur began to wear pants more often. 

"Hey, Mattie," Alfred started up one day. "Do you think it's because it's winter that Arthur's starting to wear more clothes? I thought spirits didn't feel cold."

Matthew shrugged. "Maybe it's because he's used to living with us now and decided that walking around half-naked is getting a bit weird."

"Weird for us or weird for him?" Alfred snorted. 

"At least I'm not the one who keeps ogling him whenever he walks around."

"I-I don't ogle him!" Alfred sputtered, turning bright red.

"Right. Sure you don't."

Alfred didn't ask any more questions.

At Christmas, they exchanged presents with each other, and it was Arthur's first time receiving one. Holding the wool scarf in his hands, Arthur felt his fingers shake as he gripped the soft green fabric, glad that the skin there had hung on for as long as they had.

"I know you say spirits don't feel cold," Alfred said, running a hand through his hair shyly, "but since you've been wearing clothing more often these days and go out to town sometimes, I thought giving you some winter stuff would be a good idea." 

Arthur wrapped the scarf around his neck and buried his nose into it, ignoring how his arms ached from the movement.

He still didn't feel pain from it. But it ached.

"Thank you, Alfred. It's beautiful."

At least now he had something to cover the cracks on his neck too.

New Year's came and went and Arthur saw fireworks up close for the first time.

He had explained to Alfred that, due to fire hazards, fireworks were always lit far away from his territory, and rightfully so too. But now, with Alfred by his side and Matthew lost somewhere else in the crowd, they watched as the night sky came alive with unimaginable colours as a few townspeople lit them up a few feet in front of them. Seeing the explosions of colours so closely made Arhtur's chest burst alongside them with the joy of a human life and the desire to live more of it. 

But when they were walking home, Arthur's vision swam and his head started to hurt. Brushing off Alfred and Matthew's concerns, he excused himself to sleep the moment they arrived back home.

He didn't wake up for two days.

"Arthur, you're not looking so good. Is everything okay?" Matthew noted one day from the kitchen while Alfred was out to grab groceries.

Arthur sat huddled in the corner of the couch, a blanket covering most of his body while he cradled a book on his lap. He blinked out of his faraway expression and turned to Matthew in confusion.

"Ah, I'm sorry, did you say something?"

Matthew frowned. "I was just wondering if you were okay. You look like you're sick or something."

Something flashed in Arthur's eyes and he quickly looked away, a nervous smile pulling at his mouth. "Do I look that bad?" he asked softly.

Matthew chewed the inside of his mouth, deciding how to answer. Although it wasn't blatantly obvious, Arthur definitely lost some of his usual vibrancy. Like a t-shirt that had been washed too many times. His hair had faded from blond to borderline silver and the greenish tinge of his skin had turned an ashy grey. The foliage that grew around his head that Alfred always hated cutting because he liked how they decorated his hair was limp and spotty.

Eventually, Matthew said, "You just don't look very well."

"Do you think Alfred will notice?" Arthur asked, voice a little tight.

Something about the way he asked the question raised Matthew's suspicion and he could see it on Arthur's face that he realized it too.

"What's going on, Arthur?" Matthew asked. 

Arthur recovered into a small smile and closed the book he'd been reading, sliding down the couch a little to rest his head against the armrest. "I'm just trying to spend as many days with Alfred as possible, that's all."

"That's...not very reassuring to hear," Matthew pointed out, growing more concerned by the minute. 

Arthur let out a wry laugh. "No, I suppose it isn't." Then he exchanged a look with Matthew. "It's...not something I can talk to him about right now."

"But you will eventually?"

"Yes." 

"When?"

Arthur hesitated. "Soon," he simply replied.

Matthew firmly kept his gaze on Arthur, searching. "He's not exactly the best person at figuring things out on his own, you know."

"I know, I'm counting on it," Arthur said quietly before meeting Matthew's gaze. "You always were the more observant out of the two of you."

Matthew's expression did something complicated before he walked over to join Arthur on the couch, sitting by his feet. "Does this have to do with what happened last time on New Year's?" he asked.

"Yes." Arthur's voice was rougher now as he closed his eyes, sighing as he shifted. "And if it happens again, I doubt it'll only be for two days."

Matthew swallowed. "Why?" he whispered harshly. "Why is this happening?" Arthur didn't have an answer to give. Matthew knew this but asked anyway. He took a deep breath. "You need to let Alfred know as soon as you can. The sooner the better." 

"Yes," Arthur agreed, voice barely above a whisper. "I—...Thank you, Matthew, for taking care of me and Alfred. And— I'm sorry. For making you worry."

"Alfred's important to me. And you're important to him. Apologize to me after you get better, okay?"

Arthur smiled. "I'll try my best."

When Alfred got home half an hour later, Arthur had fallen asleep. He didn't wake up when Alfred tried to call out to him and he didn't even wake up when Alfred shook him.

Arthur didn't wake up for three weeks.

When Arthur next opened his eyes, he found himself in Alfred's bed on the side he usually slept on. Eyes still heavy with sleep, Arthur tried to blink a few times before looking around, the rest of his body barely responsive. He saw Alfred sitting in a chair by his bedside, his head in his hands.

Arthur opened his mouth, willing this throat to work but it felt too difficult to get a sound out at first. It took a few more tries until he was able to say Alfred's name. 

The man's head immediately shot up.

"Arthur?!" he cried, getting up to kneel beside him and using a hand to cradle Arthur's cheek. "Hey, you okay? How are you feeling?"

Arthur could see how red his eyes were and smiled. "You didn't cry again this time, did you?"

Alfred looked at him incredulously. "You were out for three weeks, Arthur! I thought you were dead!"

The guilt quickly took over Arthur's expression and his smile wavered. "Ah...has it really been that long?"

Despite the hurt and anger in his expression, the hand Alfred had on his cheek was painfully gentle.

"What's happening to you, Arthur? When I carried you up here— your body— I saw—" Alfred shook his head. "How long has this been going on? Why didn't you tell me? First New Year's, now this-"

There were so many questions, Arthur didn't know where to start. But then again, he wasn't sure he was ready to answer them. The last time he had been conscious, he thought he'd been ready to tell Alfred after a few more days of mentally preparing himself. Unfortunately, these past three weeks have robbed him of that luxury. 

"Matt said—" Alfred started, voice failing him immediately. So he tried again. "We were trying to think of potential reasons and he guessed—"

Arthur closed his eyes. It was too painful to watch the man he loved falling apart in front of him and knowing he was the cause. Again.

"Alfred," he softly interrupted and Alfred froze. 

As if expecting it, Alfred began to shake his head when the silence stretched on for too long. 

"No...no, no, no—"

Arthur forced himself to open his eyes and stare right into Alfred's terrified blue ones, so shattered and broken. Alfred needed to know. Arthur needed to tell him while looking at him properly. 

"Alfred," he tries again, voice steadier than he expected. Another breath. "I think I'm dying." 

A suffocating silence followed as Alfred's body began to shake, his mind and heart shattering into pieces. His breaths came too quickly and his throat moved violently in his efforts to speak coherently through his tremors. He doubled over in muffled sobs as he buried his face back in his hands.

"Oh, god," he wept. "Oh, god, no..."

Arthur swallowed, feeling his eyes begin to burn.

"Alfred..."

"This can't be happening." Alfred shook his head, voice pitched higher as he struggled to stay calm. "This can't be happening— why is this happening?! I thought everything was fine! I thought we figured it out!"

Arthur tried to reach out his hand but it took so much for him to even lift a finger.

"Alfred—"

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?!" Alfred sobbed, unsure whether to feel more betrayed, angry, or sad. "Why didn't you tell me?!"

"I didn't want you to worry," Arthur answered in a shaky whisper. "I didn't see anything we could do to stop it all and I didn't want our time together to be wasted on needless worrying."

"Needless— needless worrying?!" Alfred repeated in disbelief, violently lifting his scorching eyes to face him, his expression now a mess of sorrow and tears. "Arthur, I'm about to lose you!"

A sob seized Arthur's throat and he fought around it. "But there's nothing you could've done," he insisted.

"There must've been something we could've done! Or we could've at least tried to figure something out together—"

Overcome with frustration, Arthur willed his body to listen, just one more time, and began to push himself up into a sitting position. Alfred's face immediately paled and he reached out his arms to try and support him, all his previous anger overwhelmed by the sheer concern and care he had for Arthur's well-being. 

"Arthur? Wha—"

"Look at me, Alfred!" Arthur drew up his sleeves and pulled up his shift, gesturing to his broken body. "I'm long past the point of saving. There's nothing you could've done to prevent this!"

Alfred forgot how to breathe, his heart stopping at the sight.

Like a porcelain doll left in abandon, chunks of Arthur's skin were missing, flaking off even from Arthur's rough movements, revealing the dark dirt of his body's foundation underneath. Only a few patches of skin remained around his abdomen, neck, and hands. But even there, cracks webbed over the skin, stretching and pulling, ready to peel at any moment. 

Arthur was falling apart, and Alfred felt like he was drowning. 

His stomach turned at his inawareness. How did he not notice sooner? Now everything made sense. The clothing. The blankets. The scarf. This was the reason why Arthur wanted all of them and took them in so readily - to hide the fact that he was dying.

The anguish rolled up inside Alfred like wildfire and another sob ripped from his throat. His mind couldn't understand and his heart was breaking. The moment the sound left his mouth, he felt Arthur tug forcefully at his shirt to pull him in. Alfred almost went in willingly before he remembered the image of Arthur's dissolving body.

"No, Arthur—" he tried to push Arthur away but was too scared to touch him in case it made things worse. "I'm going to— you're going to—"

But Arthur just clung to him tighter than ever, burying his face into Alfred's shoulder. 

"This is why I didn't want to tell you," he heard Arthur say miserably, voice trembling. "I'm sorry, Alfred, I'm sorry."

Carefully, but with so much yearning pouring out of his body, Alfred finally returned the embrace, letting another sob crawl out of his throat. "Is there nothing I can do to stop this?" he wept. 

Arthur shook his head, simply embracing him with as much strength as his weak arms could muster and whispering soundless apologies into his shoulder. 

"Why do I have to be so useless?" Alfred cried. "Why can't I ever do anything for you?"

"Alfred, you've done so much for me already," Arthur shushed, fighting against his own failing voice, hoarse from his own tears.

He fumbled to hold Alfred's face between his hands as he had done so many times before. To look into his eyes from a distance only he was allowed in. Muted green and tortured blue stared into each other with mirroring tears, cheeks wet and hearts bleeding.

"You listened to me. Believed in me. And most of all, you loved me." Arthur smiled. "And that's enough."

Alfred took Arthur back into his arms, burying his face into the crook of Arthur's neck as he continued to sob. "I don't want you to die. We haven't spent enough time together— It was supposed to be a lifetime."

Arthur combed his hands through Alfred's hair, uncaring of how his tears flowed freely now. To say spirits didn't truly die now would be too cruel. Even though it was the only true comfort Arthur wanted to give Alfred, he knew those words would mean nothing to him now.

"Alfred, I want you to listen to me. You have made me happier than I've ever been since the beginning of my existence. There is not a single precious moment that I don't regret sharing with you. Whatever happens to me, my soul is yours. And as long as you have it, I'll be right there beside you." He pressed a kiss to Alfred's temple. "I won't leave you. Not ever."

Alfred hugged him tighter. 

"Let me stay?" he asked. Not knowing when Arthur's last moments would be was terrifying. Luckily, he didn't need to explain why for Arthur to understand.

"I've always only ever wanted for you to be here with me," Arthur smiled against his hair. "So there's nothing I would love more."

Afternoon turned to dusk and dusk turned to night. While holding one another in each other's arms, Alfred and Arthur spoke for hours on end, reminiscing over their favourite memories together:

When Alfred couldn't fall asleep because they had just watched a horror movie together. That one time Arthur accidentally drank coffee instead of water and his hair looked like it had just been electrocuted. When Arthur used his powers to help Matthew reunite with Kumajiro. Those summer nights they spent together under the stars back when Arthur hadn't separated from the forest. The dances they had under the summer rain.

Laughter. Tears. Bickering. Teasing. They became so engrossed in their own world it was like time had stopped. And when they finally ran out of things to say, and when Alfred's eyes began to droop, Arthur listened to Alfred's heartbeat, content with feeling the warmth of the man's arms around him and simply listening to the sound of him being alive.

Alfred stirred himself awake.

"Damn," he groaned, rubbing at his eyes. "I'm falling asleep. Sorry, were you in the middle of saying something?"

Arthur smiled and shook his head.

"No, it's fine, Alfred. Sleep."

"But...what if—"

"I'll be sure to hang in there long enough to wish you a good morning. I promise. Now sleep. We can talk in the morning."

Something nagged at Alfred that there was something off about Arthur's promise for tomorrow, but whether it was the fatigue from his previous meltdown or the heavy drowsiness of sleep, Alfred agreed.

"Alright. G'night, Arthur," he said, slurring. He didn't even get a chance to hear a response before he knocked out. It didn't take long for Alfred's breathing to even out, snoring lightly as sleep took him.

And in that darkness, Arthur kissed him, a light press to his lips before he whispered his final goodnight.

When the sun rose the next morning, Alfred woke to find that Arthur's entire body had turned to dirt, a statuesque smile still on his face. All it took was one touch for his body to dissolve into dust, evaporating under the sunlight into nothingness.

The good morning Arthur had promised never came.