Embodiment of Devotion(UsUk Human AU)

Prologue

"Alfred, Matthew, I want you two to wait here while I go do some business with these men here. You boys be good and don't move, all right? I'll be back in a minute."

I never thought it would be such a short time before I never heard his voice again.

I looked up at my father, eyes tearing up a little. I couldn't find the courage to say anything so I just nodded. I clutched my brother's hand and looked down.

I didn't want to look where he was going, because I already knew.

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My father was in some tight affair with the Russian mafia, and for whatever reason, every time we were with him, he seemed to be pulled from us to do some "business". I stopped pretending like I didn't care a long time ago.

There was this man by the name of Ivan Braginski, well, he was like our babysitter when dad was busy. He was nicer compared to the rest of the lot.

I guess he was too nice, wasn't he?

Matthew was always a quiet child, and some even thought he was mute. But he was just shy, and he's my brother, so we were really close.

"Do you think he's gonna come back this time?"

I darted my head to look at my brother with angry eyes. I turned to him and flicked him in the forehead.

"Don't say stuff like that! Of course he will! He always does. He has to." I couldn't stop the tears from flowing out my eyes, and onto my cheeks. "He has to, Mattie. For us. For Mom."

Matthew looked down, rubbing his forehead, not saying a single word for the rest of the time we were out there.

-----

Our father returned about 15 minutes later and payed Ivan $20. Taking our hands, he guided us down the street. "You boys ready to eat some of your mama's cookin'? It's mighty fine, especially when she's happy." Our father was from the country state of Tennessee, and sometimes when he gets excited, his southern drawl peaks through in his voice. I notice my voice does that sometimes too.

Matthew and I look up at him with forced smiles, mine a bit too strained. "Dad, when will you stop meeting with those men? You know you could die, right? They're dangerous. You shouldn't trust them!" Matthew stood, face looking at the ground, with his fists clenched. His voice got progressively louder with every sentence. "I'm sick of it! I hate it! Alfred hates it! Mom hates it! We're all so angry and worried and you're sitting there seeming totally oblivious to all of the... the shit you dragged this family into!" I looked at my brother in complete shock. Dad, too. He was angry, but he took a deep breath and held his hand out towards Matthew. "Son, let's just go home. We will talk later, when there aren't so many people around us."

I hadn't even noticed the small crowd of people staring and whispering at the scene. Matthew doesn't take Dad's hand but instead wipes the tears from his eyes, and continues walking with us.

Dad clenched his jaw, but still strained a small smile at me. I don't smile back, because I've lost my patience. He frowns and nods in understanding. "Alfred I understand that you may be unhappy with me at the moment but please at least be unhappy at home. You boys are my pride and joy. You mean the world to me. I won't let anything happen to you, you hear me? Nothing will get in the way of me protecting my boys."

Later that night

We were all seated at the dinner table, happily minding our own business when we hear a knock on our front door. Dad politely excuses himself to go check who it is. The person at the door turns out to be Ivan, standing in a long black trench coat, a small hint of a smile on his face. "Oh, well hello Ivan! What brings you to my family's home at this hour?" Dad seemed worried. You could tell by the tone in his voice. "Oh, I am here strictly on business. May I come in?" I look and see Dad nod and step aside as he lets in Ivan. Ivan doesn't bother to take off his coat.

I excuse myself and creep towards the hallway the connects the living room to the dining room/kitchen. I peer into the living room, letting my presence be unknown. "So, what kind of business are you here for, Ivan?"

"Oh, just something that I need to take care of. Nice pillow, by the way."

Ivan takes the decorative pillow and holds it against my father's chest.

"W-What are you doing?"

"Oh, nothing..." Ivan hums. He continues holding the pillow on my father's chest, then reaches into his pocket.

A pistol with a silencer attached to the barrel is in his hands and pushed against the pillow. "I suppose it's just for extra precaution."

I couldn't even scream as Ivan pulled the trigger. With the support of the silencer and the pillow, it barely sounded like a click. I watched in horror as my father's mouth over ran with blood. He turned his head to me. He looked right in my eyes and cried. With his last breath he yelled to me. "Alfred, I need you run! Take... your mama... and... brother... Run! I... Love... You.. All
... Of... you..." He closed his eyes and slumped over. I looked at Ivan with fearful eyes.

Just then it seed I had a hold of reality. I screamed as loud as I could. I ran to the kitchen, grabbed a knife, disregarding my mother's calls, and I threw it at Ivan. Unfortunately, it only landed in his shoulder instead of his neck or head. I told my mother to call the police and to run outside. She followed my orders straightaway and gathered my brother.

I walked over to Ivan's groaning form on the floor and ripped the knife out of his shoulder. I decided to let him live, but I wanted him to suffer, just like my father. I rammed the knife right back into his arm, a little lower from the first gash. As soon as I had broken flesh, I twisted the knife, letting more blood flow down his arm and onto the lush carpet beneath.

Ivan let out low screams and pleaded for me to stop. I couldn't stop. I didn't even feel like myself. I felt like I had lost grip of my own mind. I stood up, spat on his bleeding body, and walked outside, his blood coating my hands, arms, and torso.

The police arrived soon after, and we were hauled away to the police station. I stayed silent and felt empty. I couldn't answer to any questions.

I hadn't ever seen my mother in such a broken state. She sobbed for hours on end and could hardly function. Matthew could barely stop crying, either. I understand, though. But they haven't seen what I've seen.

At the funeral

I sit on the pew with my sobbing mother and my silent brother. I dare not say a word either. We were having an open casket although my mother decided that it would be better if he were cremated.

I adjust my suit jacket. It is starting to seem a bit more uncomfortable the longer I sit here. I look down at my folded hands and notice a small tear fall onto my fingers. I quickly wipe my face and sniffle. I just couldn't help it. Crying, I walk over to the casket to see my father's lifeless form. "I could have saved you! I let you die! You knew I was there, didn't you! Why didn't you do anything? You were supposed to protect us, and now you're gone! You broke your promise!"

I held onto my father in some sort of hope that he would just hug me back and tell me that I was just experiencing a bad dream. I was shouting and crying, and I had to be pulled away by my uncle. I was placed back into my seat, quietly crying. At this point I did not care how many tears flowed down my flushed cheeks. I wanted vengeance for my father.