What was and what is

Part 10

Year 2716½.


“There you go.”

Kirkland threw the bottle of whiskey, and Arthur had to react quickly to catch it before it hit the floor. “Nice catch,” he grinned, making Arthur sneer:

“Shut it.”

The sky had went dark. Stars were showing far above them, and the waves had decreased. The soft rocking of the ship was hardly noticed, and Arthur had to admit that he found it rather calming.

As he’d passed out he’d went back to his human form. Apparently his angel-wings had assured Kirkland that shooting him would do no good, and as he woke up they’d instead dressed him in a white shirt and a pair of black pants. Not fashion, but comfortable and warm in the light breeze. Arthur sank down to sit on the deck, eyes fixed on the clear sky. He couldn’t help but smile. It had been years since he’d last been on deck like this. From the stern of the ship he could hear laughter and glass being shattered as the crew celebrated having fled from the Devil‘s bird, - but here, at the ship’s front, everything seemed quiet.

Arthur screwed the lid of the bottle and tried a sip. It tasted good. The alcohol was strong, hitting his brain like a hammer, and being the man he was, he had to take one more gulp. And another one.

“Heh, I see you like our liquor.” Arthur threw a look over his shoulder. Kirkland was standing behind him, hands in pockets, watching him. As their eyes met, Kirkland smiled slightly and went to sit next to Arthur who offered him the bottle. “Sure,” he mumbled, throwing his head backwards as he let gulp after gulp of the bright whiskey sink down his throat. As he once again moved it from his lips, it was with a heavy sigh, and he slipped down to lie stretched out on the deck. There was a few seconds of silence, then: “So…” His eyes went to Arthur. Arthur looked down and scratched the back of his neck.

“Yeah…”

“About earlier-” Kirkland rolled to the side, resting his chin in the hand, eyes never leaving Arthur, “what the hell happened? You turned into an… angel?”

“Yeah,” Arthur repeated, held a short pause, then chuckled and hid his face behind the hands, “oh God, how can I explain this to you. I‘m not even sure myself.” Why did that sentence feel so.. familiar? ‘Oh yeah, wasn’t it the same I told Alfred just before everything went weird? How ironic.’ Arthur rolled the eyes and shook his head slightly, before sending Kirkland a tired smile. “The angel-thing,” he started out, “I do that in two situations; the first is when I am in a serious danger. My heart starts to beat faster and my mind stops working, so my body reacts by protecting me with a change of skin.” He shrugged the shoulders. Kirkland raised the brows.

“And the second situation?”

“Sometimes my body can’t distinguish between joy and danger and it changes my form by accident.” Kirkland’s brows raised - if possible - even more, and slowly his lips crept upwards.

“Damn, that’s stupid!” he then yelled, rolling to his back again as he laughed. Arthur smiled embarrassed, scratching the forehead.

“I know.”

“That must really suck.” Arthur shrugged the shoulders. Kirkland gulped a mouthful of whiskey while letting the thought of being turned into an angel sink in.

“You’ll know in time.”

“What ya saying?”

“Well, you see…” Arthur licked his lips, making sure the next sentence was being well put together, so it would make sense. But it was hard. “Well, you see, “ he tried again, looking at Kirkland who was starring back with anticipating eyes. “You see,” he tried for the third time, then groaned and went for the Tarzan-Jane-method. “I,” he said, pointing to himself, “am you.” He pointed at Kirkland. The captain looked thoughtful for a moment, then he narrowed his eyes and slapped Arthur’s finger away.

“Come again?”

“You and me are the same. Just from different time periods.”

“What kind of joke is that supposed to be?” Kirkland shoved himself up in sitting-position. “We’re the same? I’ve surely never looked like you.”

“No, but you will - in the future.”

“Hell no I’m ever turning in to… that!”

“I’m afraid you- …wait, what do you mean with ‘that’? I am a proper man!” Arthur’s voice turned upset. He glared at Kirkland who slowly smiled, showing teeth as he did so.

“Proper? When I found you, you were turning into a bloody puddle.”

“That’s because your crew’s got no manners.”

“They’re pirates.”

“…right.” Kirkland offered Arthur the bottle, and:

“Oh, to hell with being a gentleman,” and so Arthur emptied it before throwing the empty bottle into the ocean. Kirkland laughed.

“Fuck, you’ll be sick!”

“Sh..shut up, I drink more at home,” Arthur assured him - and truly, it wasn’t a complete lie - before slipping down to lie on the deck as Kirkland had done earlier. Said man decided to copy his new drinking-pal, and stretched the arms up in the air with a small snicker.

“But really,” Arthur tried to continue their conversation, “if I am not you, how do you explain the way we look? We’re like identical twins!” Kirkland shrugged the shoulders.

“Could be a.. coincident.”

“Coincident?”

“Yeah, think ‘bout it,” Kirkland wrinkled the brows, “we’re so many people in this world. At some point the features of the face must’ve all been used once. And we start over!”

Arthur hesitated, then: “That’s bullocks.”

“It isn’t!”

“Sure it is! You know, our DNA is-”

“Wait a second - what’s DNA?”

“That’s- …oh, right, you don’t know about that yet.” Kirkland rolled the eyes.

“Still on that ‘I am from the future’-thing?”

“But I am!”

“Sure, England will turn into a pussy.”

“Don’t call me a-…” Arthur stopped himself from finishing the sentence, eyes going wide. “Wait, you know you’re England?” He quickly sat up, facing the still laying Kirkland. The other’s face went red with the second, realising his mistake.

“N-no. I… I never said that.”

“You just did,” Arthur insisted, “you just said “England”. You know you’re a nation!”

“No I don’t I am a nation!” Kirkland sat up, looking at everything but Arthur, “I mean, I don’t know what you’re talking about. What are you talking about?” He tried to send the other a confused look, but in his eyes were worry. Worry for a simple human would ever realise, there’s such thing as nations wandering around. Then it dawned upon him: “You… you know.. Uhm, I mean think! You think there’s nations wandering around as humans?” His voice turned into a light whisper, and he moved closer to Arthur. Arthur bit down on his lower lip, leaning forward so close that he was sure Kirkland could feel his breath upon his lips.

“I know, for I am one myself,” he assured the other, “you..” His eyes quickly slipped across the deck, making sure they were alone, as he looked into Kirkland’s eyes: “You have to believe me on this. I am the England you’ll turn into in the future. You are my past.”

“Can you… can you prove it to me? Tell me about the past. My past.” Kirkland’s eyes had went from mean to curious, and something in Arthur told him that the man really wanted him to be his future.

And it made him kind of sad, for he remembered all too well how he had felt in his younger days. Alone. A nation among humans whom he could never tell the truth, but he could keep living as he saw his friends die, disappear. He remembered all the times he had cried himself to sleep at night, and the times he’d been at war, won and lost, been closed to dying, lost parts of himself. And never, never could he tell anyone about it, for if there’s one thing you never discuss among the other nations, it’s the fear they all carry for being what they are.

Arthur shook his head. It was too much to think about, but at the same time he felt a little joy, for now he had the chance to help someone - to help himself! - get those feelings out. And so he leaned forward, a smile slightly flickering across his lips as he whispered:

“Remember when you were born? You felt so lonely for so long, untill people suddenly arrived in their ships. You feared them, they treated you badly. At first. But as they learned you to know, you acceptet them with such a bright smile that they named you Englaland - the land of the angels.”

Kirkland listened, and slowly he smiled. “It really is true. You.. You have to be me.. I am.. I have a future.” Arthur nodded, chuckling a little.

“And now you may better understand, why it’s the form of an angel that I sometime takes.”

“So - I can be an angel too?”

“Not until you give up raping, murdering and raging against everything and everyone.”

“…may I at least still drink in the future?”

“Oh, you bet!”