GAME OVER - A USUK Fanfic

Chapter 3

((AN:: I'm not too pleased with this chapter, really... But please bare with me, I don't have any other ideas for it..))

Alfred didn't know how much time passed while they were on the sofa, but he was starting to get hungry, and the sports channel wasn't distracting him well enough. If he could just get to the phone, he could get pizza or something - he didn't want to just go out and leave Arthur like he was, and he couldn't be bothered to make something.

Being slow, his movements careful, he shifted Arthur so he was lying down, and stood up. He stretched, cracked his knuckles, and yawned, scratching his head, before making his way over to the phone. But before he could reach out to get it, someone knocked on the door. Frowning in confusion, Alfred checked the clock above the fireplace. Who would call at half past three on a Sunday? Sure, the time wasn't too strange, but Alfred still couldn't think of anyone.

His stomach dropped, when he opened the door to reveal a policeman standing there. He swallowed dryly.

"Uh, what can I do for ya, Officer?"

The man smiled, though it didn't seem real. It was just to try and make Alfred less nervous, but it wasn't working. Frantic thoughts were crashing through his mind.

Oh my god, what if Arthur does have something to do with the murders? What if they have proof? I don't want to believe it, but shit, what if I have to? What if they have a photo or something? What do I do? I have to invite him in!

"Are you Arthur Kirkland?" Asked the officer. He had some accent that Alfred hadn't heard before - he had no idea where it was from. He shook his head, his movements jerky. Then he caught himself. Hey, he thought. I'm not scared. I'm not scared of anything! He almost laughed at himself.

"Uh, no. Arthur's here though, but he can't talk right now."

"Well, may I come in? Maybe I can talk to you."

"Uh..." Arthur was in the front room, so he would probably have to, well, not be there. "Could you wait for one moment, please?"

The officer nodded, so Alfred shut the front door to, and hurried back to Arthur.

He wasn't sure how he did it without waking him up, but somehow he managed to carry Arthur upstairs, and into the bed. He covered him with the duvet, and went back downstairs, shutting the bedroom door. He opened the front door, and the officer was still standing there.

"Come on in." He showed the man - who's name tag showed he was called Officer Boch - to the lounge, where they sat down, Alfred eyeing the other man warily, unsure of what he was going to do or say.

"So," he started. He seemed to choose his words carefully. "I'm sure you've heard about those devastating murders that are happening throughout the area?"

Alfred nodded. "Sure. Who hasn't? It's all that on our minds at the moment. It's crap, but I guess they'll catch who it is, won't they? For now we just gotta sit tight and lock everything that can be locked. Right?"

"Yes, well, see, the police don't have any leads as of yet. Or at least, we don't think we do. However someone called yesterday, saying they saw a man that fitted Arthur's description, near one of the crime scenes. I know this is difficult, but I was wondering if you knew anything."

"What description was this?" Asked Alfred. Boch thought for a moment, his eyebrows furrowed. He reminded Alfred a little of Arthur, by the way his eyebrows were dark, but his hair was blond, though the officer's hair was slightly darker than Arthur's. He also wore glasses - thin rimmed and rectangular, like Alfred's.

"Well, the witness didn't say anything about his clothing, but they said he had light blonde hair, fairly pale skin, and in the light, they're sure they saw green eyes. They also mentioned he was rather thin, and didn't look very healthy."

Alfred's mouth was dry. That sounded too much like Arthur for comfort.

"What did... what did they see him doing?" Asked Alfred, leaning forward unconsciously, though trying not to look into Boch's dark green eyes.

"Well, to be honest, I don't think this seems very suspicious, but I don't know Arthur. But he was laughing."

Alfred felt his heart pound, as his earlier suspicion burst into his mind. "How was he laughing?"

Boch looked confused. "Erm... well, the witness only described him as laughing, but they did mention that they could hear him from inside their house, with their windows closed, so he must have been fairly loud - if that helps at all... Is everything ok?"

Alfred didn't know what to feel. He couldn't feel anything. He didn't want to, because he knew he wouldn't be able to handle those feelings. Not just yet.

"Oh god." He was ashamed of his voice, which cracked on the second word, even though he was only talking quietly. The realisation finally hit him. He still hoped he was dead wrong, but he couldn't think of how he could be. "That wasn't Arthur."