Disclaimer: Hetalia and all of its characters belong to their rightful owners.

Warnings: Cursing, and mention of major character death

OC's cast:

Alice and George: Hawaiian islands

Yasha: Alaska

Kaliska: California

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"Matthew, are you sure you want me to do this? He is-was...your brother after all. This is the last time you'll really get to say anything about him. I mean officially-I-I-God- I am so sorry. That came out all wrong... I sounded like an asshole. Christ."

"It's okay, we're all having trouble coping with his death. But yes I am sure Arthur. I can't do it, I can't read Alfreds eulogy," he bites his lip,"... It makes things official, you know? It would mean he's really gone. Anyways, it doesn't matter, I didn't write anything. I couldn't do it. Even if I wanted to. I just couldn't do it. I sat at your kitchen table for hours just staring at a piece of paper," he shakes his head, "I've seen what you wrote. I saw it last night while you were in the shower. Alice showed me. She said you cried writting it. It's perfect Arthur. It's perfect," I can barely hear Matthews' hoarse whisper above the light chatter. His soft voice is scratching and breaking.

"Alice showed you? I didn't know she was awake."

"Yeah, she was worried because she saw you cry. Your daughter is something else. She came into my room, and wouldn't go back to sleep until I promised to read it. I hope you don't mind that I did. I was worried."

"No, no, of course I don't mind. Just as long as you're sure. Thank you."

Matthew nods, and yawns behind his hand.

"How much sleep did you get last night, Matthew?"

"Around three hours. You?"

"About the same as you."

Matthew, the poor boy, looks terrible. I know that I have no room to judge- I likely look the same- but even so... I just worry. Alfred would always check in with his brother. Those two were joined at the hip, they only ever had each other. So who is there left to worry about him, other than me?

Between Matthew and I, we don't have much family to start with, and only now can we count everyone on one hand. It's just us two, Francis, and Alice and George now. It's a disturbing realization, and Francis doesn't really even count. He's only family because I've known the bastard for most of my life.

That's besides the point- I really can't find it in myself to care about how Matthew looks. Never would have. I don't know why I'm noticing now. I can't blame a man for grieving. I would never been able to anyways. His eyes are bloodshot, he's trembling, his hair is a tangled, blonde rat's nest, and on top of it all he's coming down with the flu. The poor boy doesn't know what to do with himself. I hardly know what to do with myself.

Alfred died three days ago. I have not slept much since; I have these awful dreams. To be truthful I haven't slept well in months. The nightmares consist of the night Alfred was shot to the night he died, and every horrible scenario between them. The last three months have been hell on Earth.

Matthew hasn't had much sleep either, he tells me that he has nightmares too. I've heard him call out before the past couple months, but I can't bring myself to get up and comfort him. It doesn't feel like it's my place.

It has been a hellish three days. I can't let Matthew down. Alfred's death weighs heavily on us both, but I do think Matthew is in a worse place than I am. He lost a brother, his twin at that. I can't imagine the pain he is feeling. I have to help him in some way... I owe it to both of them. I need to do this, I can't back out now. I can't be a coward. It's an honor Matthew is even letting me do this. I have to do it. As much as I don't want to. I have to.

"Arthur? Are you okay" Francis questions, placing a hand on my shoulder. The movement shakes me out of head. I must have been daydreaming for a bit too long.

I shove the frogs hand off me and breathe in deeply. Francis should know I don't like people touching me. Maybe I shoved his hand too roughly, he looks a little hurt. I want to smack the look off his face. I don't want his pity. I'm not some delicate damsel that needs him. What I really need is to hit something. Francis' face is looking very appealing to my fist. But the little hands tugging at my pants leg remind me that I can't punch the man in the face. Never in front of the children, mate. He'll get what is coming to him.

"Y-Yes, I'm fine, Francis. Don't baby me. Um," shit what was I going to say," Matthew, I have a favor to ask of you. Will you watch the kids for me? Just while I am giving my speech. I don't want them to go near the casket. They don't need to see him like this. I just need them to stay in the pews. I don't want them to look in the casket," I murmur.

"Daddy what are you saying? I can't here you!"

"It's a secret George. I can't tell."

"You can tell me! I am the oldest."

"Only by two minutes dear. I still cant tell you because then it wouldn't be a secret Alice."

They both groan.

I glace up at Matt, waiting for his confirmation. Please?

He hesitates, but he nods with a small understanding look in his eyes.

"What about when Francis and I go and say goodbye? Will they stay put? You stay up at the podium right?"

"Yes I stay there, I have to receive the condolences. I think the kids will listen. Georgie doesn't like to wonder about places that are unfamiliar; truthfully it's Alice I am worried about. I'll talk to them, but you know them. They aren't going to give you a hassle."

"Why won't you let them see him one last time Arthur? Don't you think they should see their father," Francis glares daggers at me, " It's not right that they can't."

"Francis for the last time, I don't want their last interaction with their father to be him laying stone cold dead in his coffin. I've told you before, don't make me say it again," I hiss into his ear.

Francis shrinks away as if I have slapped him. Good. It's what he deserves. He has been bothering me with that stupid notion nonstop for the past three days. I have had enough.

"But-"

"Do think looking at your mother would have given you closure Francis? You had nightmares for weeks after her funeral. You were in your mid-twenties, I'm not saying that it didn't affect you too bad, and you were able to handle your grief. Think about it. They are just kids. They don't know death like we do. I don't want them to. I don't want that for my children."

Francis sits on the edge of the pew and stares at out the stain glass window. "You're right mom ami. I am sorry," he scrubs his face," I can't think straight. I'm sorry."

"It's fine. I know you mean well."

I squat down and place a hand on my children's shoulders and murmur in their ears, "Right then. Alice, George, I am going to leave you with Uncle Matthew for a bit. I need you to act like grown-ups right now, okay? I need you to be on your best behavior, like on Sundays. I need to go make a speech, is that okay?"

Alice nods her little brunette head and places a protecting arm around her brother. "You mean like on Christmas and turkey day?"

"Yes."

"Then it s'okay Daddy. It's important right", she questions.

"Very very important Sweetheart. What about you Georgie? Are you okay staying with Uncle Matthew?"

George shifts around uncomfortably but manages to nod his head, his little dark brown curls bob with it. Seems today George doesn't mind Alice being the mouth piece. George normally doesn't ever stop talking. The heavy atmosphere must be growing on him.

"Can I have my color book. The one with the car?"

"Yes but don't color on the seats alright? And share with your sister."

"Kay."

I look in the small diper bag-Where are the damn colors?-I don't want to assume they understand what's happening, I doubt they do-There's the book, but where did I put- that's fine as far as I'm concerned. I'll explain it to them eventually. Just not now- There they are- They're too young. They don't need to know. Ignorance is bliss as many say.

"Here you no crayon on the seats."

"Daddy, where's papa?"

The question is like a slap in the face.

I smile at Alice," don't worry about papa, pumpkin, he's just asleep."

I'm going to hell for lying to my kids.

"But Daddy you said that last time. When is he- " I pat their shoulders and stand up.

I am not running away. I just need to get this over with. Then maybe I can face my children and possibly look them in the eye.

"Hush now Alice. I have to go now." I straighten out my suit, and make my way, down the rows of pews, to the podium that stands far too close to the open casket for comfort.

The coffin is beautifully decorated in red, white, and blue. Seeing the familiar colors doesn't make me any less anxious or comfortable. Seeing that damned American flag draped across his casket makes me furious. I want to hate it and everything it stands for. It took Alfred away from me.

I know deep down it isn't true.

When I reach the podium everyone in the room has fallen silent. I can feel everyone's eyes boring holes into my back. It's almost funny about how quiet they all are. On a normal day Ludwig would have turned blue trying to make us all shut up. All I have to do is stand here. It's nice to know that our idiotic friends can rise to the occasion.

I take out my papers from my jacket pocket.I need to do this right. It's all for him.

I inhale and begin, "I suppose I should start from the beginning. The world was gifted Alfred F. Jones on July, fourth. The 'F' stands for Franklin. If he were here now, he would more than likely kill me for telling all you that, but that's what he gets for leaving in the first place."

There are small scattered laughs.

"Anyways, ever since he was a child, Alfred F. Jones has been stupidly brave. In fact, he always said that his first good deed was saving a cat from a tree when he was eight. He broke his arm falling out of the stupid tree and for all his trouble he had an allergic reaction to the cat. On that day something sparked within him. He wanted to be a hero. As he grew into a man, this spark turned in to a flame."

"I remember the day when I met him, many years ago; it was before any of us knew what we were going to do with our lives. We were all stumbling around without a clue. Maybe it was date that brought him to the café where I worked."

"He just waltzed in like he owned the place. He ordered a coffee. The only problem with his order was, considering he was in a tea shop, that he ordered a coffee. Can you imagine the snarky smile on his face? Who would go into a tea shop and order coffee? When I gave him earl grey tea instead, and he took it in his stride with minimal insults to my tea. I knew that, even then, he was something special. Especially now that I know he used to hate tea with a passion. So after insulting my tea once more, Alfred flirted with me in an obnoxiously dorky manner. Most of you knew him from our university years. The man was no Clark Gable."

"When he asked me out to dinner, I deadpanned a, 'no'. After everything I said he didn't get angry or disheartened. He took my rejection in stride, and he just chirped, 'okay', in his cheery, obnoxious voice. He gave me a secretive smile, like we shared a joke, tipped me, and left."

"I believed that was the end, but it actually was our beginning. I'm so thankful he didn't leave for good because of my horrible charm." I laugh," After all I wanted to know the punch line to the joke we apparently shared."

"He came back the next day, trying to order coffee again, the git never learned," I look up and see smiles, and there are a few chuckles from the crowd. After all it was such an Alfred thing to do, nobody else could be as absurd as he was.

I continue, "I gave him chamomile instead. He drank it and asked me to sit with him that day. And I rejected him again. And again. And again. He did the same thing for months receiving the same answer."

"Let it be known now, that Alfred F. Jones was a persistent and unyielding young man. Possibly the most stubborn person in the world, besides my daughter in the morning of course," when I say this Alice gives me a small grin. She's beautiful. Alfred should be here to see it. I don't know why my eyes are prickling when she smiles at me the way she is now...

I clear my throat, "That remained the same until the day I cracked. I yelled at the man that I'd go on one date with him, and only if by the end of it, he would leave me alone," I chuckle.

"It's funny how fate unfolds itself. When we talked it was so clear that he was the only one for me. We both knew it, right away, we understood each other. We knew what to say. There was this unstoppable force that had just kept us going for hours on end. There were countless more times like that. That was when things were brilliant and simple. It was love. It was electrifying. It gave me chills. It set my heart on fire. What we felt was indescribable. Many of you know what I'm speaking of, the rest will one day know. It left me breathless and on the verge of dying in which only he could breathe life back into me. It constantly felt like my heart would burst. When we fought it was easy to forgive, to just fall back into each other. I don't know where he began and I ended. It made no sense; it had neither rhyme nor reason. It was so effortless to blurt out 'I love you' and 'I do'. It was such a magnificent dream, but keep in mind fairy tells have an expiration date." I force myself to stop. I can taste the bitterness from my words dancing on my tongue. I breathe in deeply. And out again. There is no need to be bitter now.

I start again,"...And as the years went on, things became more difficult; we were faced with more challenges. Among all the fights we had, and the challenges we faced because of who we are, Alfred's job was our harshest challenge to overcome." "Alfred had an overwhelming, burning desire for justice. It is what led him to become an officer of the law, a fatal career choice it seems. Alfred had many close calls, but it was only just last year, that he nearly died from an arrest gone wrong. Things were different after that, but at the same time, it was like nothing had changed. It had left both of us scarred and scared. But he kept on going. He was constant. He wasn't going to stop. Not until something forced him to, and even then he would have struggled on."

"That evening, on the night he was shot, I begged him to stay at home. It was that day that my fear had taken me over. I was afraid he wouldn't come home. I had this horrible gut-wrenching feeling. I wanted him to attempt to remember what we had in the beginning and just quit before he died. All he said that night was, 'Arthur I won't ever leave you if I have the choice. Don't worry so much. I love you. Plus what's the worst that could happen?' He smiled and left. That was the last time I ever saw him awake and alive."

"That cocky bastard," I choke. Maybe if I had forced him to stay maybe... No stop it. Now is not the time for this shit. I need to finish the damn speech.

I press on, "Alfred was charismatic, he was magnetic, he was electric, and everybody knew it. I mean why else would so many people be here, he affected all of you in some way or another. When he walked into any room, anywhere really, every woman's head turned, everyone stood up to talk to him. He had this power that pulled everyone to him, he really was amazing. With his words, I truly believe he could make any disbeliever believe in God. He could have been a poet, but he left that for me. He let me write. Now that he's gone I can hardly find any words that would give him justice. He was my muse. Now that he is gone, all of those magnificent words are gone as well."

"He was a contradiction in the flesh. He was obnoxious, but sensible. He was an idealist, but also a realist. His feet touched the Earth, but had his head in the clouds. He was like this hybrid, this mix of a man who couldn't contain himself. He was the most energetic person I've ever met, and more than likely, will ever meet. He was everywhere and everything. He was a combination of the sky and the sea. He will never be held down or taken controlled of. He was limitless. He was infinite. Death cannot hold him. I have always had the sense that he was torn between being a good person, and missing out on all of the opportunities that life could offer a man as wonderful and magnificent as him."

"There would be no other reason he would purposefully leave. He said so himself. When he saved that child that had been held at gun point by standing in front of her, I can only believe he knew what would happen. He knew he would get hurt; he knew there was a small chance of coming out alive. They all know what's at stake. He decided to take a bullet, to gamble his life away, to save a child, and many others before that, and he was a wonderful, beautiful, good person because of it."

"Alfred was a fighter. He fought for what he believed in until his final breath. He stayed with us for three months after being shot. Despite the fight we all know he fought tooth and nail over, he never woke up again."

"He left all of us behind, he left you his friends, he left our life together, he left our future, and our children too. He knew it was for the best to leave... and I understand his reasons. I know I can trust him. I know he wouldn't have left if it had been his choice," There is an intake of breath.

pI scan across the room, and find that the source of the noise was Elizaveta. The woman is crying into the crook of Lili's neck. Lili is a stone, she has her face contorted into a mix of uncertainty and dejection, she has tears in her eyes, but they remain unshed./p

Vash is surprisingly kneeling with his head in his hands. His lips are softly reciting gospel. Next to them is Natalia and Kat. I'm stunned to see Natalia weeping quietly and Kat looking so unfocused and disconnected. It's so unlike them. It's unnerving. There are so many tearful faces, so many signs of grief.

I shake my head and manage to stutter out, "H-he was human. That is what made him beautiful and wonderful. His being human left him the choice of letting that child die and living out his life, or saving a life that could do something incredible in the future. He helped me understand that being human is having a choice."

"I know now that because of him and all that he has given me, I can truly live a life that I will not be ashamed of living. It was my choice to fall in love with another man, and I will never regret meeting him or falling in love with the mysterious individual that was Alfred F. Jones. And I loved him for it. I loved him from the moment he walked into my life, into all of our lives."

"I'm so damn thankful for it. I loved him when we said our vows in front of you. I loved him when we held our children in our arms for the first time after the adoption, and cheerfully cried. And I still love him, even though I never learned what that damn joke was. I love him until the day I die and then forever and then some more just because he was Alfred F. Jones. I know that for every single one of you it was the same. You all have your stories of him, and I know you love him. If not that's why I told you our story so that maybe you could see that fleeting ghost of what he meant to me. And maybe you could learn to love him too." Half of the room is weeping by the time I'm done.

p rub my eye, and I'm surprised that my hand is damp with tears. I don't know when I started crying. "P-Please come and say your good-byes."

One by one in groups of twos and threes they come. First are Matthew and Francis. I can only imagine how they feel. Matthew lost his brother, his twin at that. He has just lost the person he has been with nearly every moment in his entire life.

As for Francis, he's known both of them since they were children. He took care of them when no one else would. He gave a damn about them. Alfred once told me when they were about seven they attempted to make a blood bond, but Francis fainted the moment Matthew drew blood. He said Mathew started to cry because Mathew believed that he killed Francis.

I never had to see Matt cry, until now, I've seen it too many times in just a day. Tears are falling as Matthew leans down to whisper in Alfred's ear. When the boys were small, they created a whole new language. I wonder if Mathew was speaking to Alfred with it. Is a language dead when there is only one person left to speak it? When Mathew is done he turns and clings to Francis for dear life. I nearly feel bad for the bastard, for once he looks confused. He just pulls Matthew closer and places his signature blood-red rose in Alfred's breast pocket. Those roses have caused so much trouble over the years, they've led us on so many adventures. It's fitting that Alfred get one last rose.

Francis hesitates, "Merde... Alfred, your life should have been so much longer. I'm sorry," Francis utters in a tone that sounds so heart breaking it feels like a stab in the chest. Damn frog. He nods to me as he passes. The look he gives me it's not pity but clemency. It's strange coming from him.

Then it's Kiku and Liên. They both seem completely unattached and distant as they come forward. With every step that Kiku takes his composure is melting bit by bit. When they reach the casket and see Alfred inside, Kiku breaks down. Gone is the normal stoic demeanor, and in its place is something so out of character- it stuns me. Kiku is wailing and hitting the sides of the coffin. He and Alfred had been so close. They'd known each other for almost their entire lives and they joined the force together. Kiku's eyes are massive; it's like he just can't come to terms with what's happening. Liên's eyes are glistening with unshed tears but she's able to hold them at bay until she drags Kiku back to their seats. I watch them as they pass by and as they sit down. Liên is griping Kiku's back so tightly her knuckles are turning white. I turn away. Some things shouldn't be observed.

Liên comes back to me. "Alfred was a great man. He helped us so much. He and Kiku were as close as brothers. Kiku apologizes for his outburst. I'm sorry for your loss," she sniffled./p

"It's fine. It's- I- I understand. Thank you." What else can I say? She walks away and I watch her go.

When I look back it is Lovino, Feliciano's, and a man's turn. The twins own a local sweet shop, that's how we met them. Alfred took a liking to Feli, and me and Lovino got along fine and gripped about our idiots together. They are wonderful people, and great friends. It is no surprise when Feliciano disregards any unease and leans over to kiss Alfred's cheek. Lovino just places a pack of cards in his casket.

"The cards are for you to play when you get bored, bastard. We never finished that game," Lovino sniffs. Lovino turns to Feliciano, they have a silent conversation.

Lovino nods and simultaneously the brothers speak, "Buona notte Alfred, dormire sonni tranquilli."

The man lingers behind them. I believe the man's name is Antonio. I don't know much about Antonio. As far as I know he was the deputy at the station. Alfred never spoke much about work. Feliciano and Lovino leave and Antonio is left alone. As they pass, Lovino gives Antonio a sharp look. Antonio flinches. The man's eyes are red-rimmed.

He manages to stutter out, "Adios, mi amigo." He turns around and faces me. He stumbles and he frowns," I wanted to say that Alfred was… gifted. We might not have agreed on many things, but he was a great man. He was brave. He... He stood for what was right. He was a good cop; he didn't let those raceist putas get away with anything. It was an honor working with him. I hope to follow in his footsteps. You have my condolences. He will be missed." He looks like he wants to say more, but he rushes back to his seat next to Lovino.

There are so many faces and apologies after Antonio, they all blur into one massive blot.

It's only when Gilbert and Ludwig say their good-byes that I start to pay attention again. Seeing Ludwig lose his cool demeanor, seeing him break down in front of Alfred's coffin, and Gilbert leaning heavily on Ludwig. Added with Gilbert being uncharacteristically quiet, it awakens something within me. I feel something that was in the center of my being suddenly crack and shatter into a million pieces. Ludwig suddenly hugs me. He's the first to do so. We cry into each other's jackets, clinging to each other like children. My eyes are burning and they start to distort everything around me. I feel the acidic trails of my tears scorch my skin and fall on Ludwig. I want to move. I want to stop crying. But I can't. Watching Kiku fall apart...Natalia crying... Kat and Gilbert not speaking at all… it's not right. It's just not right...

He can't be dead. It has to be some kind of cosmic mistake.

Ludwig releases me and Gilbert shakes my hand and places a hand on my shoulder "Anything you need," he says," I'll do it. If you want to go for a pint just call me okay? Hell- I'll even babysit the small demon children for you."

"Like hell am I going to let you near my children, I'll take you up on that pint though. After all this settles down. I need to get back up in my feet is all."

"Awesome," he smiles and disappears into the crowd of mourners.

"Daddy, are you okay? What's wrong?" Alice's small voice startles me. She has her petite hand yanking on my sleeve. Her large, watery, brandy colored eyes bore into me. "Daddy…," her lower lip trembles. I can't look at her. I can't face her. I can't even tell her what's wrong.

"Where's Papa? He'll fix you right, Daddy?"

George is holding on to my pant leg, looking around the room, trying to find his papa.

I scoop both of them into my arms and hold them close. I cannot let them see Alfred like this. They don't- they won't understand.

"Papa is sleeping right now. It'll be alright. You shouldn't come up here," I lie. What else am I supposed to do?

"Okay but can you promise he'll wake up soon, Georgie and I don't like it when you cry."

"I'm sorry but I can't promise that I'll stop, but I'll try, Love."

"Why not, Daddy?" George is staring right into my eyes. I know I can't lie to him even if I wanted to.

"Because your Papa won't wake up from this kind of sleep."

"I don't get it Daddy. We wake up all the time, naps aren't very long."

"It's okay Alice, you'll understand one day." I carry them back to their seats and set them down. I bend to their level and say, "Please stay here. I need to tell your Papa good night, okay?"

"But I wanna know now! Why can't we go?"

"Because silly girl, it's what grown-ups do. Do you ever tuck George in?"

"No."

"Then you don't have to worry about it."

"Fine."

Thank God she's being so agreeable today.

"Daddy I'm cold."

"Here George," I place my jacket around his shoulders.

It's heavy. It's too big!"

"It's fine. You'll grow into it one day." I grab a bouquet of lilies and stand.

Francis must have noticed the flowers and realized what I intend to do because he lunges up from his seat to grab my arm. He hisses, "Arthur you don't have to do this. You don't need to torture yourself. It's not your fault! You don't have to go look at him. Just don't-"

"But it is my fault Francis. You know that It is. Let go of me you git," I slap his hand off me," Don't tell me what I need, Francis. I just- I want- I emneed/em to do this. I need to see him…just one more time. Francis I wasn't there for him when he died. This is all I can do."

"It wasn't your fault Arthur. You needed to be home with the kids. You couldn't help that. Alfred would understand. He knew that you loved him."

"I know, God. I know."

I slowly start shuffling back up to the front to Alfred's coffin. I'm wearing white, and with me are my lilies in hand; it takes me back to our wedding, it was such a lovely night. It happened in this church. It's fitting. Only this time I'm going to end up alone. In the back of my mind I can hear Alfred laughing at me. Why are you so sad it's just me? Come on. You can do it. I reach the casket and see Alfred for the first time since he died. He looks the same, just a tad paler, but it's not him. He's not laughing. He's not smiling. He looks like he's in a deep sleep. He's not snoring or mumbling though. It can't be real, can it? It's not possible for the man I met to just leave… But what more proof do I need? I have his body lying out in front of me.

I tuck the lilies under his arm, and I lean over to whisper in his ear, "I hope you can hear me were ever you are. I love you now and forever and then some more. I told you that when we got married. I still mean it. I will love you always, you damn git. You promised not to leave, but you did anyways. It's not fair! What could I have done to keep you here…I would have sold my soul and shook hands with the devil to keep you…I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." I feel tears tumble down my face and I see them fall on Alfred's cheek. I kiss him on his lips. They're cold and chapped and unresponsive to mine. I feel repulsed. I am disgusted. I am horrified. He really is gone. I just want to weep. I feel warm hands pull me away. I let them. Alfred is gone.

"That's enough Arthur. It's time to go. Please let's go," Matthew whispers in my ear. Alfred is gone.

"All right."

I'm caught in a whirl wind of emotions. I can feel the handle on the side of the casket slide under my left hand. To my left I can see Mathew choking on his tears. I note Francis' blank stare and I can hear Ludwig and Kiku's whispers behind me. Toris' soft voice washes over me. "On three. One. Two Three." The casket is on my shoulders. The weight is so heavy. I walk with that weight for what feels like miles. Then it's gone and the procession begins.

My hands are suddenly filled with two smaller, dark ones.

"Where are going Daddy? Are we going to walk far?"

"Don't worry George it's not that long of a walk," Matthew answers for me.

All I can do is stare at the back of the black hearse and lead the mourning parade.

I put one foot in front of the other.

Daddy, what are they doing to Papa?"

Where am I?

"W-what?"

Alice

Her voice tugs me back from my thoughts. I'm in the graveyard.

"What are they doing to papa," she repeats.

"We're putting Papa to rest Alice."

"Why are they putting dirt on him?"

"They're burying him George."

"What if he wakes up? We need to get him out," Alice is nearly shouting and she's tugging on my sleeve hard.

"He said he had work to do! He can't go to sleep!"

"He needs to catch all the bad guys' Daddy," George is pulling on my other sleeve.

I stare down at both of them. "Oh Alice, George…"

"NOOO! PAPA! STOP THEM," George screams and let's go of my sleeve to make a run for the grave. I pick him up before he gains any ground, and I do the same to Alice before she gets any ideas.

They start screaming and kicking me and hitting me over the head. George try's to throw himself out of my arms (PAPA WAKE UP!) ; Alice is howling in my ear. (YOU ARE A LIAR!) All I can do is rock them and whisper, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorr-"

"I WANT PAPA," Alice screams.

Everyone is staring and giving me pitiful looks. I just pull them closer. I don't want them to look at us.

Alice and George finally tire themselves out and just cling to me, quietly hiccupped and sniffling into my shirt.

"It's okay. It'll all be okay you'll see."

"Are you for sure Daddy?"

"Yes, Alice I am."

"Are you for sure, for sure?"

"Yes, I'm for sure, for sure. Just wait George; you'll see."

..

Minutes turn into hours.

..

Hours into days.

..

Days turn into weeks.

..

Weeks turn to months.

..

Months into years.

..

And more years.

..

I was so alone.

..

Every second was eternity.

..

"Francis called earlier this week. He asked if you kicked the bucket yet. He said you not allowed to die until you pay him back the money he won at poker. From that time you visited him in New York? He said he's coming to visit us sometime next week. Uncle Matt is coming too. When did you ever go to New York?"

"A very very long time ago. I'm surprised the old git remembers that. I don't care what he says Alice. I don't owe him a penny."

"Sure Dad. What were you saying before you were distracted by the pretty nurse."

"I wasn't distracted. I was in- in- herrrmmm Alice I want you to take your Fathers jacket. The one with the wool coller."

"Nice save. The pilot one? Really Dad? Are you sure? What about Georgie? What's he gonna get?"

"He can have Alfred's old dog tags. Of course I'm sure, I'm old, not senile, Alice," I huff. Really? The nerve of this girl.

She throws her arms in exasperation, "Just making sure Dad."

"Making sure I'm not senile?"

"Stand down old man, you know what I meant."

"Fine. When is George going to get here?"

My daughter rolls her eyes and huffs, "Don't roll your eyes at me old man. It's rude. You know him. He's probably got lost trying to find this place. Again…" The idiot at the end of her sentence is silent, but it's written across her face quite clearly.

A few seconds later George came charging into my room yelling, "I'm here! I made it in time! Suck it Alice Ann Kirkland-Jones Petrov!"

"George!"

"Sorry Dad."

"Ha."

"Shut up Alice."

"I will when you do, you little piece of-"

Well some things never change, just the vocabulary I suppose.

"Act your age. Both of you are nearing your thirties. Christ. What am I going to do with you? What-"

"You could have sold us. I hear that brings in a lot of money."

"Shut up George. Anyone who would have bought your whiney ass would have sent you straight back to Dad. Plus-"

"If I had sold either of you, Lord knows I wanted to, I would have be bored in a hour, and that wouldn't have been much fun. Anyways, now that you're both here, settle down and let's get the Will settled. The attorney will be here any minute. When he gets here let's start with the house-"

"Dad you might be old but you're still a little too young to die. I think this is all happening a bit prematurely."

"Son, I just had a triple bypass. I don't think I have much longer to live."

"Dad you're only sixty-four. You're still pretty young. You'll recover. I mean they have medication and surgeries to help you. It isn't all that bad, I'm sure."

"Your father was thirty-seven when he died. Compared to that, I'm an old man now. No one is too young to die, Alice. Don't even mention the stupid horse pills they're giving me. I'll be better without them."

"Oh Dad. Don't bring papa into this. I just want you to feel okay. You better be taking your medication. It's meant to help with the pain Dad. I don't understand why your so against them. "

They taste like shit. That's why. I'd say that if I didn't have a feeling that won't be good enough answer for Alice.

"Let's just get it over with now so that we can be done by tea time hopefully."/p

"Can you believe it though? It's been- what," he counts off on his fingers," Twenty- twenty two- twenty-four years since Papa died."

"Yeesh. We were like four years old then right?"

"Yeah and you two were damn brats about it."

"HEY-"

"What do you mean BRATS-"

Soon the morning bled into the afternoon.

The Afternoon wore on, and in-between fights between my pregnant daughter and my son, and bruised egos (mostly my sons) we managed to finish all the legal work and have time for some chatting.

Until, all too soon, visiting hours were over and they had to leave.

"Well I have to get goin' anyways. I finally persuaded Kaliska to move in with me! I have to go help her pack her stuff. I'll come by later this week." George stood and started walking to the door.

"Wait, George, I have something for you." I take the old chain off from around my neck and place it his hand. "These were your great-grandfather on your father's side. Your father loved those dog tags more than me, so make sure you take good care of them."

"Thanks Dad," He leans down and kisses my cheek, "Thanks for everything." He turns a walks out the door but not before he yells," Bye Dad! Love you!"

"Goodbye George!"

Damn kids, always rushing.

"So where's my present? Hmm?"

"If you tell me what the baby's sex is, I'll tell you where it is. By the way I thought you were going to let it be a surprise."

"What makes you think I know what it is?"

"You've been hinting at it all day dear."

"Have I? Huh. I was impatient. Well it's a girl I'm thinkin' 'bout calling her Virginia. But here's the thing gramps I'm having twins. One boy, one girl," she holds up two fingers, and smiles.

"Really? That's wonderful, Alice!"

"Isn't it? I found out the other day while you were in surgery. Yasha fainted when we went for the sonogram."

"Did he really? Wait, you're trying to distract me. You haven't told me the lads name yet."

"Well we were thinking about Nickolas A. Smith. It's kinda a mouth full isn't it? I like the ring to it. "

"What does the 'A' stand for?"

"First tell me where the jacket is."

"Ugh. Really Alice you're holding the name hostage?"

"You started it. Do you want to know the name or not, Grampy?"

"Quit calling me that. I'm not a grandfather until those piles of mush are screaming in your ear. The jacket is in a black box under my bed at home. You best take care of it. It was another gift from your great grandfather."

"Okay then," She says as she gathers her things a heads to the door. She opens it, sighs, and then says, "Stupid George has dibs on your name for his kids. He's so dumb. I'm older than him by four minutes. I should get dibs on names. That's besides the point, I have a better name... The A, it stands for Alfred."

I can't stop smiling.

She turns and murmurs, "I figured you would approve. I really have to go so goodnight. I'll see you soon, kay? I love you, thank you for the jacket Daddy."

"It's always been yours. Goodnight Alice. Say hello to Yasha for me."

She smiles.

Then she walked out and closed the door.

I lay staring at the ceiling for a while. Alone with my thoughts.

I start to get sleepy.

I close my eyes and breath.

I fall.

My heart stops.

I am gone.

(~)

I wake up in a clearing feeling thirty years lighter. All I can see is endless blue sky.

I feel young.

I sit up.

Trees line the meadow. Flowers bask in the sunlight. The air is warm, everything is bathed in soft yellow light. The grass is long and soft underneath my fingers.

What the hell? Where am I?"

The wind blows, and the grass sighs. The trees whisper excitedly.

They're waiting for something to happen.

soft voice floats on the wind from behind me, "It's about time you got here, Arthur. I've been waiting forever!"

I know that voice.

"Alfred?"

The end.

---

Authors note:

Well hello there. You've made it to the end.

This did was a pain in the ass to write. Actually this is a rewritten fic that I had posted about a year ago. But It was still a pain in the ass. Tell me if there are any mistakes because I swear if I have to look at this any longer I will bash my head against the wall. Gracias!

(This work is also posted on my AO3 account.)

Review and/or favorite please.