Fuzzy furballs and Idiots with Colds [Arthur]

The doctors could go screw themselves. Alfred shivered, his brain quickly snapping to snarky insults, and insults that made absolutely no sense. Probably more of the latter. After being shoved in the hospital, by his crying mother, he was tired of sitting in the place. He couldn't do anything! The blond pushed the box closer under the tree, three motherless kits placed neatly in the newspaper bottom. He was wearing short-sleeves in a downpour, and even Alfred knew he was a idiot in that respect. Shivering, the man bent down in the freezing cold water, to look for the fourth and final cat. The grass that normally sprung up with life was pounded down by the harsh rains.

Alfred sadly liked the rain too much to be mad at it. He rather get mad at the doctors who were now keeping him here. He was over freaking twenty! He can take care of himself! Coughing into the ground, he reached his hand out to the shivering kitten. It hissed at him, but couldn't do anything. The blond scooped it up sadly, watching it squirm in his hands. Placing it gently in the box, he continued to cough, shivering heavily. His blond hair was plastered down to his forehead, and his glasses were useless in the rain. He could barely see a few feet in front of him, and the rain hit him to the point where it was a cold massage. ...A numb massage that was slowly starting to burn him. Hissing, Alfred scrambled under the tree, his body shaking with coughs and cold.

Under the tree was blocking out most of the rain, but the cold was still wrapping around every single part of the American. He needed to get these kittens in his room. He had bribed a nurse to get him enough kitten milk formula to his room, and he could take care of them easily. The blond male laughed hoarsely. He was pathetic. He saw himself in small newborn kittens. Alfred's hoodie was covering the box with the cold kittens, and he peeked inside to see them cuddled together. He was going to make them happy..give them families.

Reaching over to pick up the box, his body went into rapid coughing, and he wheezed through it. This was ridiculous. He needed to get the kittens inside, and stop being so weak. He was going to be the Hero, even...even if it was going to kill him. Alfred growled with determination, the sound irritating his sore throat. Oh Arthur was going to have his head if he was going to get sicker. Staring up at the hospital with dull blue eyes, he grinned darkly. Well if he was going to die, it wasn't a nice place to die at. Snorting, he grabbed the box with his hands, leaning up against the bark of the shading tree. He would do this. Save lives. Just like the doctors who talked down about him. He was going to show them he could save people too.

Stumbling forward, he tried to keep as steady as possible. Staggering forward a few steps, he leaned against another tree. His room was a long way away. Oh just dandy. He hissed sarcastically.

Arthur had been happily working through the clinic in the rainy day. He loved the storms, the delicate patting of rain against his window was possibly one of the most comforting sounds on the face of the planet. That and he had snuck Elizabeth into his office and was using her as a warmer for his feet when he was talking to patients and writing out prescriptions.

And then one of the nurses came in to tell him that Alfred F. Jones was missing from his room and had not been seen for almost half-an-hour by anyone in the intensive care unit. Leaving the small puppy in a cage he had step-up in his office for her, Arthur had proceeded to start through the hospital, moving from ward to ward, asking anyone if they had seen the bright American, and most hadn't.

Which was strange in itself since Alfred had a nasty habit of leaving his solitary room and going around to visit anyone he fancied. Since the inside of the hospital seemed to be empty, Arthur knew there was only one place left that Alfred could be hiding (unless he had actually managed to escape, but Arthur highly doubted that since the nurses at the entrance of the hospital were told specifically to look out for Alfred's escape attempts.

Holding his labcoat up and over his head, Arthur poked his head outside and felt his stomach drop the moment he saw the thin boy slumped against a tree. "Dammit Alfred-" Arthur ran over to him quickly, pulling off his coat, draping it over the American's head, taking his shoulders, looking up into the blue eyes, frowning a little.

"Oy- Can you hear me?" he asked, already feeling himself getting soaked to the bone within seconds but generally ignoring it, focus entirely on the sick boy in front of him, "Alfred, you better have a bloody good reason for being out here-"

As he shook the boy's shoulders lightly, trying to snap the gaze out of the dulled steel they had become, he started to lead him towards the nearest doors, his nice, expensive leather shoes sinking into the mud while his dress-shirt and sweater were clinging to him and his hair plastered against his forehead. He kept both hands on Alfred's shoulders, never breaking the feeble eye contact.

Alfred gritted his teeth. Focus you wimp, he berated himself. He wasn't sick like all the doctors said, and he was going to finish school. The blond needed to get the kits inside, Lucy could warm them up, and he could feed them. Yet here he was feeling like he couldn't breathe without coughing. His lungs felt like dry needles were contracting into his heart with each breath. Shaking his head rapidly, water slipping away from the strands. He was going to be fine! He was going to save these kittens! Taking a step forward, he staggered forward again. In his hazy mind, he knew that he probably looked like a drunk man.

Alfred hated feeling like this. Weak. Useless. He wanted to be the hero. Biting his lip, the blond growled at himself. This was no place for self-reflection. Focus. Focus on doing something good again. He smiled slightly as he paused in the rain to gain his balance. A few mews from inside the box alerted him at the water was starting to soak through his jacket. Hissing, he continued to make it closer to the hospital. Twenty steps later, he was back under a tree, coughing.

His eyes were dulling quickly, and his vision was blurring. Looking up as he heard his name, and tried to blink away the haziness in his eyes. "A-Arthur?" Alfred winced slightly, knowing this was going to be bad. He tried to grin, as the man came closer. "I'm fine A-Arthur. Just a little c-cold." Blinking as the coat was draped over him, his world swam, and he had a moment that everything looked sideways.

"Hey, you don't get yelled... at when you save people's lives, I shouldn't... get yelled at for saving lives too! That is heroically... unfair you know!" He got out without stuttering. Obediently following Arthur, he tried to keep his eyes open for the doctor. Was he supposed to stay awake? Oh..the kittens. His brain flip-flopped on topics back and forth, almost forgetting completely about staying awake until a small mew entered his thoughts. ...The cats.

That's what he was doing this for. He would save them. His eyes quickly started to resume their appearance with determination burning behind them.

Ignoring the mewling for now, Arthur practically heaved the boy inside the safety of the hospital, quickly sitting him down in a chair, kneeling in front of him. His hands rubbed Alfred's arms, trying to keep the blood circulating to his trembling fingertips while barking orders at a few passing nurses to get him some blankets.

He shook his hair out of his eyes, finally feeling the coldness set in but he ignored it as best he could. Had to keep talking, had to make sure Alfred didn't pass out of him, that would only lead to worse outcomes. "I'm not going to yell at you."Yet he added in his mind, "But I am going to tell you that what you did was very stupid and very brave. Not at all what you should be doing on your road to recovery but..."

The emerald eyes fell to the box of kitten and he felt a small sigh escape his lips. "Alfred, you truly are one of the more extraordinary idiots I have had the pleasure of treating." He sat up a little closer, pulling off his soaking sweater, wringing it slightly before lifting it up and starting to run it through the American's sunshine blond hair.

Then he paused. That didn't look very comfortable... he let the sweater sit on his head while reaching up and pulling the glasses off his face. "There, now I can at least try to dry you a bit..." he mumbled, resuming his drying of the air, humming a bit to himself. Again, this moment would only help their relationship as doctor and patient more and hopefully, Alfred would soon trust him enough to let him start running some diagnostic tests-

As that thought ran through his head, he quickly pushed it aside. That didn't matter right now. What mattered was making sure his patient was dry and that... and that his box of kittens was going to be okay because if anything happened to those damned cats, Arthur was positive Alfred would never let the Brit lay a finger on him again.

Alfred muttered a curse as he was shoved into the hospital, and then a chair, then he saw Arthur in front of him. He was loosing little bits and pieces of his thoughts. It's as if he was sitting in front of several televisions screens as his eyes started to haze in and out, jumping from one picture to the next. It was the oddest thing he had seen in the past week, and this was beside the fact that yesterday he was picturing Arthur running around in a angel suit and granting wishes for the children. It was odd. He was smiling. Not the fact that Arthur was in a white robe and sandals, with little wings, it was the fact that he was smiling.

Tilting his head, he wondered why on earth would a angel be a doctor-ghost. But then he heard Arthur say something. "Y-Yeah you a-a-are." He managed a shaky pout. "Don't be so r-r-rough." He winced, feeling his arms sting back to health. Oh god that was painful, Alfred whined mentally. "It wasn't st-stupid...or br-brave. I wa-wanted to save them!" He did what any person would do. He got them inside, and he needed to get them fed and warmed up. "It's wh-what anyone would do. Anyone who loved a an-animal would do wh-what I did." He explained, not thinking for once that he did something special. He was going to save them. That would make him a Hero in their eyes. No one else's. He wanted to help them.

Alfred laughed shakily, at Arthur's comment. Extraordinary idiot? "Thanks." He muttered softly, looking down at the kittens, he smiled slightly. He could hear them better now. He must be finally conscious enough. Giving a small animal like whine as his Arthur dried off his hair, he tried to move one of his arms. Closing his eyes quickly, he managed to suppress the yelp of pain. His arms were coming awake from the numb feeling and all that went through the taller male's head was 'oh-god-that-hurts-make-it-stop'. It was like one of his episodes all over again. The dirty blond haired male was momentarily distracted as Arthur took off his glasses. "What?" He asked as he saw a blurry Arthur mouth something to himself.

His eyes...it always felt like he was staring through one of those lacy curtains or something. Always. Alfred's always needed glasses, but the eye-doctor didn't really say much about why he saw that way. The drying of his hair resumed, and Alfred sighed mentally to himself. If he wasn't half asleep, he would be embarrassed about how he was being so weak. But he was too busy wondering what he should name the kittens after his nice long nap...

"Hey Iggy...I'm n-naming one of them Fred." He laughed softly.

Combing his fingers through the blond hair to make it not frizz everywhere, Arthur thanked the nurses that brought over blankets, standing up and putting them over Alfred's trembling shoulders. There was something fundamentally wrong, something he was missing. The white dress shirt was clinging to him and it was distracting him with everyone moment sending another shiver as the wet cotten would brush his skin.

A wifebeater wasn't exactly the best for such a professional setting but Arthur didn't care. He finished the hair, tossing sweater and shirt aside. "Fred?" he repeated, resting his fingers on Alfred's neck, checking his pulse, counting in his head, watching his wristwatch, "Quite a lovely name, a bit plain but okay." Keep with me Alfred, don't pass out now... "And the others, what are you going to call them?"

His hand moved to the jaw,easing it open, looking at his tongue before reaching in the breastpocket of the coat draped over Alfred's shoulders, pulling out the flashlight, waving it slowly in front of his gaze, waiting for the reaction.

"And I may be yelling at you, but later, when you're not shivering like a naked man in the arctic." He allowed another small smile, leaning close, frowning at Alfred's face, trying to discern something. Was that pain behind the blue eyes when he moved? Interesting, sore joints? Muscles ripped, tendons broken, nerves fractured... So many possibilities but at least a potential new symptom...

Alfred wondered if he could go to sleep soon. He was really tired. His brain was doing flips, and at the same time singing. It was odd, but for some odd reason he recognized those symptoms as something, but he didn't know what. His head lolled to the side slightly, his dulled but awakening blue eyes staring at the doors. He went outside...the cats...Arthur...if he wasn't shivering in a hospital, he would expect this all to be a dream. Twitching softly, as the blankets were laid on him, his eyes drifted back to Iggy.

He raised a eyebrow, chuckling. "H-Hospitals aren't for str-stripping, Iggy." He commented, but he blinked at the next question, shifting away from the fingers on his neck out of habit. It wasn't as painful as his arms, but it still hurt. "Fred...from a Tv show I u-used to watch." Alfred yawned. "Also...it was what my li-little brother used to call me." The blond revealed further. His little sister would call him Alfie, and his little brother would call him Fred when they were toddlers.

"Two are boys...Fred...and Dallas...and the girls...Scarlet and..M-Melina, after my mother's first cat...she looks like h-her." Alfred tried to explain better, the stuttering calming down when his shivering started to go down. He still looked pathetic, and he still was shivering, but some color was slowly returning to the normally bright man. Jerking back slightly as Arthur opened his mouth, he let out a small whine. He hated being man handled like that. Hissing as the light hit his eyes, he bit his lip to stop the small noise of pain trying to force it's way up, as he turned his head away.

"I ha-hate the cold." He muttered, trying to smile back at the blond doctor. Closing his eyes again as the pain started up in his arms and legs, he gave a grin, hiding it again. It was a useless symptom from the cold. It would only complicate things if he let the doctor see. That and Alfred was afraid of showing it. He hated showing 'weakness' if you could call it such a symptom like that. He didn't like it, and he knew he never would.

"I know, but I can't think with the coldness clutching to me." Arthur watched as the nurses rolled over a wheelchair he thanked them before shooing them away. He did not need them hovering while he tried to treat his own patient. Oh the gossip that was already floating... He did not need more of that, not at all, this wasn't some day-time drama. "And we're going to get you into this chair alright? We need to put you in a warm bath."

Arthur smiled, hearing the names. Each one seemed to have a story and even the tiny insight into the American's life was fantastic, a real step forward. "Your family sounds wonderful, you should have them stop by your room sometime, I would love to meet them. Especially someone besides your mother, she's so frightening."

Oh yes, that grin was tight at the edges, something was behind it, something in those eyes and Arthur was almost sure it was pain but he wouldn't know until he heard it from Alfred's lips. "Those are brilliant names, though I'm a little offended you aren't naming one after your favourite doctor."