Chapter Text
What a shitty meeting. Alfred didn't even get to have a real say in it! Seriously, did everyone have to gang up on him? It wasn't fair. He wasn't the one causing all this! Well, the meeting before it kind of was, but all that other stuff wasn't him! He didn't cause planes to fall! Nor the mass firings! Nor the random cars on the White House lawn!
…The what.
Alfred was walking down a pathway to meet up with his boss when he was suddenly greeted by trapezoid shaped cars that had the same color as a refrigerator. Okay, maybe there was some event. Some big party his boss conveniently didn't invite him to! He would think that if he wasn't also greeted by another car from the same company as the trash can cars.
“What the hell?” Alfred sped up his walking and looked at the cars. They were parked right on the bright green grass and right in front of the neoclassical columns that was the main entrance. He raised his brow in confusion as his eyes scanned each vehicle. He continued to walk, approaching the entrance of the White House. Alfred quickly hid behind a column when he spotted cameras and the two people he had grown to dread seeing on a daily basis.
Oh, and the friend brought his son again. Nothing like a good ol’ fifty seven pound human shield. Well, he figured the kid was about that weight.
“So, Mr. President,” A male interviewer behind a news camera asked. “Are you looking to lease or buy?”
“I'm going to buy, because, number one, it is a great product. As great as it gets, and number two, is because this man,” The President pointed to his friend. “He is devoted. His life. His energy, to do this. I think he's been treated very unfairly by a small group of people.”
Alfred looked over, seeing his boss bolding a paper. He looked side to side then bent over, walking to hide behind another column to get a closer look. He squinted his eyes but still couldn't read what was on it.
“There's no way he wrote this himself.” He kneeled and watched, waiting for a moment for his boss to possibly walk over or happen to be close enough. He was too invested in this to back off. Alfred adjusted his glasses, as if it would help in his mission. It looked cool, at least. If anyone was watching.
“Now here's the bad news!” The President spoke again. “I'm not allowed to drive because I haven't driven a car in a long time! And I love driving cars, so I'm going to have it at the White House and let my staff use it. Let people at the place use it and they're all excited about it. I'm not allowed to use it, can you believe it!”
“Yes.” Alfred muttered under his breath. He moved his head closer as his boss walked off and stood somewhat close to Alfred. He took the chance and stared at the paper. To his surprise, he had two papers in his greasy fat hands.
He stared at the smaller paper. It had a list of pricings for each car model, all of them except for the last, listed for over one hundred thousand dollars. He mumbled to himself as he continued to read.
“....can be purchased as low as $299 a month or $35K… all cars have self driving. Sure, not like our people can't afford eggs.” Alfred backed up and stood up properly. He grunted and placed a hand on his back. He jerked himself backward, hearing a crack. He sighed and walked, as if he had just shown up.
“Yo! Boss guy! What's with the cars?”
“Oh, Alfred, my favorite man. I want to make our friend feel good and show off his cars. They're excellent cars. I know you love cars so you can use the one I just bought. Isn't that great?”
“Oh, thanks… It's just what I've always wanted! Heh.” Alfred blew a raspberry then pushed his hair back. “Listen, I got called to a meeting.”
“How did it go?”
“Er, not good. So my-”
“Shh shh. Meet me in the office and tell me there. Too many, uh, cameras.” The boss began to walk, his friend following. The man turned around and glared at Alfred, giving him a look of disgust. He purposely held his son's arms down so he wouldn't wave to the personified country.
Alfred sighed and rubbed his temple with his right hand for a brief moment. He figured it was going to take his boss a hot minute to even make it to the office, so he had time to kill. He decided to look at the trapezoid cars.
God, they're fucking ugly.
Alfred walked around one, trying to process that someone made a vehicle shaped like that and felt proud of it. He snorted and tapped on the front bumper, only to watch it fall to the ground.
…
Alfred was now inside the White House halls, leaning against a wall and under a portrait of one of his former bosses. The 42nd to be exact. He closed his eyes and let his medicine seltzer breath exhale out. He made a face at the smell and turned his head upwards. He stepped out and looked at the portrait, the man's blue eyes staring into Alfred's.
“...We used to impeach for less. Now look where we are.” He groaned and licked his lips. Feeling that he had spent enough time, he made his way to the office. He didn't bother knocking. He didn't care. “Hey, boss? Oh, cool, you're here.” He entered and closed the door behind him.
“Yes yes, now, what were you saying?” The man's voice returned to its disgusting and cold tone, a tone Alfred was used to.
“All my friends decided to not visit the place. Warnings on traveling here and all. Oh and, Germany requested that your friend leave his politics alone.” Alfred lingered on the last word, saying the last syllable for a few seconds. He then grinned, showing his teeth as his sweat glands began to form drops on his forehead and armpits.
“We both know that not visiting us will only hurt them. We are too powerful to fail. We are strong. They are making the mistake.”
“...I suppose so.” Alfred looked as his boss gestured to him to come closer. He swallowed and did so, standing near him. “I can talk to your friend if you want. I know you're busy with… your stuff.” Alfred offered. He bit his lips as if he ate something sour then released them.
“Oh, don't worry about him. The car thing will set his ego for a while. That's all I need. Bigger ego means better work on his branch and finding the bad in our system. You know that DEI stuff? It's, uh, not needed. Why gift people because of skin or what they chose to make their sexuality? Not needed. You get it.”
“Sure, man. DEI is something all right.” Where are the hidden cameras? Why is he rambling about DEI? Alfred barely heard the phrase until his boss took office again. It felt like a replacement word for-
“So, I have a big surprise. You'll love it. I'm sure your friends hurt you and you know what? First off, I don't like anyone hurting you like that. They don't understand us. The surprise will be a great one for us. Secondly-” His boss put his hands out then down, staring at Alfred for a second, nothing behind those eyes of his.
“...Yes?”
“This surprise will hurt our people for a while but it will bring gold and amazing news to our country. It's time that your friend learn to not mess with us.” The man bent under his desk and pulled out a stack of papers. He shoved it into Alfred's hands then placed a gentle hand on the other's right hand. “Go ahead, check it out.
Alfred blinked and adjusted his glasses. He brought the papers to his face and immediately put them down.
“What do you mean by ‘Liberation Day?’ What have my friends done wrong?” He pressed. His boss gave him a look that read like, “Are you fucking stupid?” He sure felt fucking stupid at that moment.
“Everything, Alfred. All those years of treating you awful. You're like our friend. Treated unfairly! I know for sure you share the pity I have for him. So unfair for all the brilliant work he's done.”
“...I don't think I'm like him.”
“Treated unfairly, yes.” The man ignored his comment. “It's time you let them know who is the one in charge. Who the hero in all this is.”
Alfred swallowed. His lip quivered as he forced himself to open his mouth.
“Listen, I don't think this is a good idea.” Alfred dared to speak. “Shouldn't we keep good relations with the other countries? Like we do with Japan and had with Canada. I mean, I have been here much longer than you have an-”
Alfred suddenly hit the wall on his right as his cheek stung and skull shook inside his head. His glasses went lopsided on his face. His eyes shook side to side. His breathing quickened as he placed a hand on his cheek then looked at his boss. In front of him was a man who had his hand up and a soulless look in his eyes. He almost looked surprised that Alfred wasn't fighting back like he should. A pleasant surprise. Alfred swallowed and slowly put his hand down, keeping his body on the wall. His mind immediately attempted to shift into fight or flight, like he was suddenly back in a trench on the western front or in the trees in a jungle. He forced himself to swallow any vomit that attempted to come back out. After that brief moment of internal struggle, he watched the man stand up and approach him, invading his very precious personal space.
The President fixed his suit. He grabbed Alfred and stood him up properly. His hands adjusted his jacket and shirt, as if he had accidently bumped into an art display. When he felt the boy looked presentable again, he cleared his throat and spoke.
“So, that shuts you up. Interesting.” His breath invaded Alfred's nostrils as he continued to speak. “I know what's best for you. No need to question what I do. See what happens when you do? You don't want me to be the bad guy, right? I'm not the bad guy.”
The two didn't speak. The only sounds their ears heard was their blinking and the boy's slowly steadying breathing. It felt forever, despite it only being four seconds max. Alfred slightly shook his head no, cautiously adjusting his glasses so they sat properly on the bridge of his nose.
“No sir. I'm sorry.”
“Good boy. Get out of my sight.”
Alfred stood outside the office, his heart continuing to pound to match his staggered breathing. His cheek continued to replay the memory of the string it seemed to let linger. He swallowed and forced his legs to walk forward, putting one foot in front of the other. He held his left wrist with his right hand and kept his gaze forward. He had been hit before by many people, but this felt different. He wasn't sure if he preferred it over the more sensual touches. At least those only hurt on the inside of his head.
The young man stared out the window, his eyes meeting the cars that remained out on the front lawn. He swallowed and kept moving, slowly changing his posture to be straight and serious. He clenched his fists and sped up his steps. He was back to normal. He was fine. Everything is fine.
Totally fine.