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Fallen Embers	By : FlayraDowitcher Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers Views: 1799 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. I am making no money off of this fic.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
- 3
Once, as my heart remembers,

All the stars were falling embers.

Once, when night seemed forever

I was with you.- Enya, 'Fallen Embers'

***Warning: Language, crude jokes

***Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. I am making no money off of this fic.

Chapter 2

Nothing exciting ever happened here in the frozen tundra of Russia. The wind was always bitter, the sky a constant gray, and the snow ankle deep. The snow would neither rise nor melt, but just remain as a white nuisance. The nearest town was miles away from the military base, and rarely did anyone get to travel there on a daily basis. The base was used as a testing center for military weapons and explosives. Soldiers and scientists resided there for months on end for the base was self-contain.

Yet the self-contained life was no life at all for a young soldier of nineteen. Alfred F. Jones, a U.S. soldier, had been stationed in Russia to help test out the weapons. Joining the military was not the ideal life he had in mind, but going to college was an even worse idea. Alfred had been a horrible student, and in some cases, a bad son. While he was popular in high school, there were always whispered words about his home life. Both of his parents were men, and gay. He and his younger brother, Matthew, had been adopted when they were young boys. Their daily life in grade school was never easy when all the kids knew you had two daddies. It got better as time went on. Matthew could handle it, but Alfred never could. He had loved and hated his fathers for their choice in lifestyle. Alfred had no problem with it when it was someone else's issue.

When he had told them that he was going to join the army, his parents hadn't been supportive. It was a long, loud, and physical fight that landed his papa hurt. His dad, Arthur, had become physical with him first, and then his papa, Francis, tried to split them up. The result was his papa ending up with a broken leg, which still had not healed correctly. After that night, Alfred had stormed out and stayed with a friend before going to sign up the next day. He laid low for a while until it was time for him to be flown out to a training base in Texas. After a year and half in training, he was then stationed in Russia, where he currently lived. But through it all, Alfred always kept a smile on his face and chipper attitude, even if his life at the base was just as troublesome as his home life.

Alfred's dorm room was his paradise, the only place where he felt safe and content. In this room, he had his television, Xbox 360, laptop, iPod, comic books, movies, and most importantly, his pile of Sports Illustrated. The sport magazine always came in a care package sent by his family, which consisted of chocolate, chips, cold meds, chewing gum, astronaut ice cream, and his favorite, cheese wiz in an aerosol can. His papa and brother packed him these care packages, for his dad would never send such 'junk'. As if vegetables would survive the trip overseas. Every once in a while, there would be a knitted scarf, a pair of mittens, or woolen socks all hand crafted by his dad. Even though Alfred and his dad never really got along, he would find himself slipping on those woolen socks or going to sleep with a knitted scarf. The material even smelled like home; like his papa's fresh cooking and his dad's various teas. It was a minimal comfort.

Life here at the base may contain more freedom, but the teasing and bullying remained the same. Alfred was by no means a pushover, but everyone always picked on him. Either he was 'chubby' or a 'dandy'. The chubby part he could understand because when he first arrived, he had a little belly on him while the other men were perfectly fit. The dandy term, he knew, came from word getting out that his parents were gay. In the minds of these men, if his parents were gay, then he must be gay as well. The truth was, Alfred didn't know which gender he preferred. He loved looking at girls, and would often share the in pornographic magazines the other guys carried around. When he had first arrived, Alfred often looked at the other men, but only because they were older and more fit than he was. Alfred didn't find any of them attractive, per say. He never thought of it as a 'gay' thing either. He was a young man living amongst hundreds of other men in a self-contained based in the middle of nowhere.

Still, Alfred continued on living with a smile. Currently, he was taking out all his frustrations on a punching bag in the weight room. This was his favorite part of daily training, when he got to work out. Once his exercise routine was finished, he would have to report for group training, which was his least favorite. During group training was when most, if not all, of the bullying would take place. Alfred had a theory, though. If he kept laughing at their bullying and making jokes, then they would eventually get bored of him. It hasn't worked yet, but only time would tell.

Alfred let out a puff of air when the bell went off, signaling that it was time to move on. He went into the locker room to change, ignoring some of the other men looking at him. When Alfred opened his locker, he found that his uniform was not in it. He frowned, for he knew where his uniform had gone. Alfred went over to the sinks and found his uniform soaking wet inside of one. The sound of laughter from somewhere behind him could be heard, but Alfred could not let it show that he was upset or angry. Instead, he put his hands on his hips and laughed loudly.

"HA HA HA! Nice one, guys! I've always wanted to be Aquaman!" He took his uniform out of the water and squeezed the pieces out in a shower stall. Once again, he would have to wear his uniform soaking wet. Without complaint, Alfred took it back to his locker and began to change out of his workout clothes. When his back was turned, someone had come up behind him and slammed their fists into the lockers beside his head. Alfred nearly jumped but spun around in the man's arms to see the familiar face of a sergeant. He gave a crooked smile at the man. "H-Hey bro, what's up?"

The older man gave an eerie smile. "That was some nice work you did there today, Alfie."

"Oh, it was just some boxing skills, nothing fancy." He chuckled.

"You know, I used to do a lot of boxing when I was a teenager. Maybe you should come by my office one day and I'll give you a few pointers. How's that sound?"

Alfred smiled, yet was not persuaded by the man's words. He knew what the sergeant wanted of him. "Sure, that sounds good! Maybe some other time, though." He slipped out under the man's arms. "Thanks a lot for wanting to help me out, sir! You're a cool guy! I gotta get dressed now!" He waited for the sergeant to leave his locker area before quickly putting on his wet camouflage uniform. Making sure the sergeant was not around to see him, Alfred quickly left the locker room.

A few hours after training, the soldiers were heading into the cafeteria to have their lunch. This was Alfred's second favorite part of the day when he could stuff himself full of food. Of course, it was at this time of the day when the fat jokes would start, or someone would shout out 'Alfred 'Tapeworm' Jones'. Since he seemed to have a bottomless pit for a stomach, the joke going around was that he must have a tapeworm, a parasite that helped to make him so hungry. It was a useless insult with little meaning, but that didn't stop the other men from saying it to him. Alfred never insulted them back, but continued using his 'just laugh it off' technique to deal with it. Sometimes it was hard to control his fists that only wanted to smash the jaw of a particular few.

With a tray consisting of two burgers, mashed potatoes, cooked carrots and corn, Alfred sat at the end of a crowded table. He wanted to sit alone, but didn't want to make himself more conspicuous and open to criticism. When he had first arrived here, he thought that he would be making friends. He was so popular in high school, but was the loser here at the base. It was a hard change, but one he had to slowly get used to. All his concerns disappeared when he felt the juices from the burger trickle down his fingers. Alfred grinned and licked his lips, eagerly anticipating the first meaty bite. Since their base was not set for enemy attack, the food code was more lax. It didn't bother Alfred at all. The first burger disappeared within a couple of minutes, and then he moved on to the next one. The vegetables always came last.

As he chewed, Alfred looked around at the eating hall full of soldiers and wondered just what he was doing here. Of course he knew the reason why, but there was always something in the back of his mind nagging at him that this was not the world for him. As a young boy, Alfred always dreamt he belonged somewhere else, or that he was someone else. His dad had said it was just an overactive imagination from too much television and comic books, but Alfred thought differently. He felt as if he did not really belong here on earth. Sometimes he would even have dreams about it. The dreams were set in all different parts of history; at least, that's what he knew after he looked up the time periods. Sometimes he was a cowboy, other times an engineer, a sailor, and in some cases, a warrior. There were so many that he had started to lose track of them, and only the most vivid ones remained. Yet, he was told they were only dreams based off an 'overactive imagination'. At one point, the dreams had gotten so frequent that they would keep him up, and the doctor wanted to give him some pills to stop it. Both his parents refused to do so, and Alfred learned to deal with it on his own. The one thing that he always remembered about each dream was that he woke up with tears in his eyes afterwards. He may not remember the content, but the tears and feeling of loneliness were always present afterwards. What did it all mean?

"Hey, Jones! Wanna go have a smoke?" One of the soldiers said, breaking his concentration.

"Don't bother asking the dandy that, bro!" said another, "Fags can't smoke because of the derogatory meaning behind it. It's like, a gay code, ya know?"

Alfred narrowed his gaze at them. "That has nothing to do with it, and as I've said before, I'm not gay! I just don't like smoking. It smells and hurts my chest. It's a stupid thing to do." The two men looked at each other and laughed before walking off. Alfred slammed his fork into his mashed potatoes, trying to keep from getting too angry. He hated the gay jokes more than the fat jokes. Now he lost his appetite. Grumbling to himself, he dumped the food into the trash and returned the tray. He just did not belong here.

/

Later in the evening, when the workday was over, Alfred hung up his uniform to dry and flopped onto the bed. He let out a sigh, staring up at the ceiling poster of an all-American pinup girl. Alfred decided he needed a new paper lady friend to hang above his bed. He would have to ask his papa to get him one, because Matthew would pass out from embarrassment and dad would give him a lecture. Bored, he got up and flipped open his laptop to fire it up before retrieving the latest Sports Illustrated. Looking through the pages, he wished that he could be back in high school and on the football team. It had been a tossup between soccer or football, and Alfred went where all the girls were. The weather in Russia was too hazardous to play any kind of sports game that wasn't basketball or volleyball. Both he was equally good at. There was just so much that he missed of home.

Alfred grinned when a phone call on Skype was coming through. He was grateful for satellite Internet. The video box calling was Matthew, so he quickly answered it. "Hey Mattie, what's up?"

There was a bit of static before Matthew finally appeared on screen. "H-hi Alfie, how are you?"

"Doin' good! Just relaxing from the day! How about you? Just get back from class?"

Matthew nodded. "Yes. I'm glad to be home right now, it's so cold out there!"

"Pfft! Hey, don't talk to me about cold, Mattie! I'm in the freakin' North Pole here, and Santa's left town."

"You must be enjoying it, though?"

"Oh yeah!" He never wanted to worry his little brother. "The guys are great and the hours are awesome! I do miss you and the family."

'Is that Alfred?' Alfred heard his dad off-camera. "Yes, it's Alfred!" Matthew called. "Dad just got home."

"Oh, cool." Alfred's tone dropped a bit as his dad joined. "Hey dad."

"Alfred, how are you?"

"Good. You?" The tension between them was obvious.

"Doing well. Are you eating healthy there?"

Alfred rolled his eyes. "Yes, dad."

"Okay…well…remember not to stay up late and only do your best."

"Yeah. I will."

"There hasn't been…any threats or danger there, right?"

Alfred looked at the screen. "No, none. Why?"

"I've heard word that they are adding more troops to the war…"

"I'm fine, dad." Alfred said with a forced smile. "I'm not going to see combat anytime soon."

"It's not a joke, Alfred! I know you like to think of everything as a joke, but this is serious! Anything could happen!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know. I'll talk to you later, dad."

Arthur threw his arms in the air. "I might as well talk to the wall! I'll get the same answers!" With that, Arthur moved out of view and Matthew took over.

"Alfred, dad's just worried about you, that's all."

"Well, he doesn't have to be!" Alfred stated. "I'm doing just fine on my own! Where's papa?"

"He has physical therapy today, so he's not home right now. We all miss you here, Alfred. We really do." Matthew smiled.

Alfred gave a sad smile. "Yeah, I know. I miss you guys too, but duty calls! I'm helping to serve my awesome country! I'm working on stuff that helps to keep you guys safe over there!"

"We know," Matthew smiled, "And we thank you every day, Alfie. We really, really miss you."

"I gotta sign off now; I think I'm being beeped."

"I don't hear anything?" Matthew looked confused.

"I'll talk to you later! Tell papa I said 'hi'! Bye Mattie!" Alfred quickly closed the laptop before rubbing at his eyes, which were moist with tears. He did miss his home and his family, but if only things were different. He just wasn't happy anywhere, no matter how hard he tried. What was wrong with him?

There was a knock on his door. "Jones? Hey Jones, you in there?"

"Yeah! What's up?"

"A bunch of the guys on our floor are meeting in the game room right now. One of our own came back and he said he has a spooky story to tell us! Wanna join?"

"Spooky?" Alfred felt his face turn white and all the little hairs on his neck stand on end. He hated anything scary! "O-Okay! I'll be there in a minute!" He couldn't let the guys know that he was easily scared, for all it would do is give them more ammo to use against him. Alfred didn't even want to think about all the horrible pranks they would pull on him. So he grabbed his bomber jacket and left the sanctity of his room to hear this 'spooky' story.

Alfred tried to hold his mug of coffee still as his dorm floor gathered around one of the soldiers. He took a heavy sip, hoping to make himself have to pee so he can escape. Then he tried to reason with himself, wondering just what kind of ghost or monster could live in the freezing cold lands of Russia. Of course, that reminded him of the yeti, and he immediately moved away from the window.

"Get on with it!" Said one soldier. "Let's hear the story!" Shouts of 'whoo' and 'yeah' went up from the group, but Alfred's was the quietest one.

The soldier started. "Well, while I was the city gathering up some supplies, along with a lady or two," There were whistles, "This old man at a little corner restaurant told me a scary story! It's a folklore legend about this area of Russia, right here, near our very own base!" The soldiers made mocked 'ooo's, but Alfred was already starting to become afraid. "A very, VERY long time ago, before Russia was Russia, the land was covered with nomadic tribes! Near this very base, there is an old, old, OLD cemetery! So old that the stones are merely grave markers and the words long since gone!"

Alfred already hated where this was going. The word 'cemetery' came up.

"But that's not even the scary part! You see, in the center of this graveyard…stands an ancient statue! This statue is that of a man, a big man, with a hole in his chest and an axe in his hand! Nothing can destroy this stone, for it's 'magic'." Everyone laughed at that. "Now, here comes the scary part!" Alfred gulped. "For thousands of years, the statue has been seen wandering the frozen wastelands of this area, crying out into the night. Some say they are sad cries, but that's not always the case. The statue has been seen in people's yards and windows, always staring…always looking." Alfred felt faint. "Sometimes it even turns into an animal! Like a wolf or a bear, tearing and hunting at lost travelers! It's even been said that if you see the statue in the daylight, your closest loved one will die! OR, if you stare at the statue long enough, the man will turn and look at you."

"OOOOOooooOooOoooOOOo!" One man made a ghostly noise behind Alfred. That was all it took for Alfred to let out a frightened scream and drop his mug, shattering it onto the floor. Everyone laughed madly.

"Jones almost pissed his pants!" Said one while pointing at him. "Afraid of the big bad snow statue?"

"N-NO! I'M NOT AFRAID!" Alfred hollered back.

Another soldier spoke up. "Best put a chair in front of your door tonight, Jones! You wouldn't want the scary statue to be suddenly standing in your doorway…staring at yo-BOO!" The man laughed when Alfred jumped at the 'boo'.

"Hey, he might just welcome the statue in!" Laughed another. "He probably wants some 'rock hard' cock! Am I right, fellas?" The room went up in a roar of laugher, so soldiers nearly choking and coughing from the humor of it. "He'd come down the next morning and be like, 'Hey guys, Geology rocks!'"

Alfred whole body began to shake in anger and frustration.

"Don't listen to them, man!" said another soldier. "You can do SO MUCH BETTER than some stone guy!"

"Have you tried Lance Bass?" Added in another, but the comment was met with Alfred's fist flying into the man's jaw. Another wave of laughter arose from the crowd as Alfred fought with the soldier on the floor, rolling around and throwing punches. The fighting and cheering alerted one of the generals, who immediately came in and started to break them up.

"HEY! KNOCK THIS SHIT OFF! WE AREN'T ON THE PLAYGROUND!" Alfred was the first to pull away, with grit teeth and heavy panting. The other man was sporting a black eye, a fat lip, and a bloody nose. "What's the meaning of this? What the hell is going on around here?"

"Fucking Jones can't take a joke!" Shouted the beaten man.

"You started it!" Alfred shouted back, "All of you did!"

"Jones!" The general shouted. "In my office. Now!"

Alfred's jaw dropped. "What? Wh-wha?! Me-me? But I didn't do anything wrong!"

"I SAID NOW, JONES! NOW!" Everyone was laughing at Alfred when he left the game room, walking in silence with the general beside him. The two men said nothing to one another until they were in the office. "What happened, Jones?"

"I was getting tired of them teasing me, so I lashed out." Alfred sat in the chair and crossed his arms angrily. "I don't know why I am being punished for defending myself!"

"Regardless, that is not how things work at MY base. We are trained soldiers here, not some playground drunkards! I know the kind of skills you have with boxing, and those fists of yours can cause serious damage! Do you know what would happen to you if you were to really hurt one of your fellow soldiers? Detention hall for a week, and everyone will REALLY make fun of you then."

Alfred said nothing.

"So they make fun of you. Big deal. Learn to live with it, for words mean nothing. Be fucking afraid of a bullet, not an insult! Now I better not see this again, Jones, or things won't be so easy for you this time around!"

'Just like at home…everything is always my fault and no one else's.' "Yes sir. I understand, sir."

"Good. Now go back to your room, I'm tired of looking at you. Punk ass brats…" The last part was muttered, but Alfred heard as he left the office.

'I hate this place. I hate everyone here. It's always the same no matter where I go. 'When in doubt, blame Alfred'.'

Alfred went back to his room, stripped into his nightwear, and climbed into bed. He decided to finish the action movie that was still set up in his DVD player to help him sleep. The fight wasn't bothering him, more so the story of the statue he had just heard. Alfred got up from the bed to quickly close the blinds, imagining the statue watching him from outside. The movie helped to drown out his frightened thoughts, but Alfred still had to cover his head with the blanket. 'I hate this life…why can't I ever be happy? Why am I always scared? Why am I always sad? I feel happy…but I'm not really happy. Or am I happy, and I just don't know how to read it right? Ugh! I'm such a mess!'

It was the worse night sleep he had ever had.

/

The next day, Alfred couldn't bear to be in the same building as the others, so he chose to go out for a frigid walk. No one ever really went for a walk in these temperatures, but anything was better than the atmosphere in that base! Alfred had filled his canteen with hot coffee for something warm to drink while wondering through the snow. He had every bit of warm clothing on, either from the army or from his dad. Alfred felt like a bloated tick, but the extra warmth of these super military clothes was something to be grateful for. Alfred hated the fluffy Russian-style hat he wore, but it never failed to keep his head warm. Occasionally, his glasses would frost over and he would have to rub at the lenses. "Damn, it's cold!" He said out loud. "People who live here are insane! Go where it's warm!"

Just as he was about to turn back, Alfred noticed some rocks up ahead. Squinting, he saw not only rocks, but a statue as well. He felt the blood drain from his face and his heart stop beating. The statue! That was the statue in the story! Alfred knew he should run, but couldn't help being drawn closer out of curiosity. Slowly, he approached the ancient graveyard, seeing as how the tombstones were, as said, simple grave markers. But it was the statue that was the most intriguing stone of all. For some reason, Alfred did not feel frightened at all. Instead, as he looked at the statue, he felt more sorrow than fear. He walked up to the stone man, staring into the gray face. Alfred cocked his head to the side as he stared at it intently. There was something was strange about this statue, Alfred could feel it. However, the feeling still did not frighten him like he thought it would.

The statue was of a man, and a large one at that. He was dressed in plain clothing with, what looked liked, various types of furs. There was no axe in his hand, but there was an indent where his heart should be. The man's face was not frightening at all, but rather forlorn and troubled. Alfred followed the statue's gaze to a spot in the sky. "Are you always looking at that spot?" He said out loud. "What are you looking for?" Alfred turned back to the statue. "I wonder if you were a real person. Were you a super hero, or a good guy of some kind? A tribal hero maybe? Oh god, listen to me! I'm talking to a rock as if it's going to talk back! Stupid cold and snow making me loopy!"

The statue continued to interest him even after the scary story that was told. Alfred felt comfortable here, and it was the strangest thing. Graveyards always creeped him out, but this one was different. This place was not scary at all; not in the least! In fact, Alfred felt happy here. He smiled up at the statue.

"I like you, buddy!" Alfred said. "You need a name! I bet you don't even have one, do you?" He moved to sit on the stone platform by the statue's feet. His thoughts were put on hold when he felt the surface beneath him was warm. "It's warm?" Alfred had to pull off his glove to feel it with his own bare hand. He gasped. It really was warm! The stone was warm! "But…but that can't be! He's a statue! He's stone! He's in a frozen wasteland! He can't be warm!" Alfred put his glove back on. "I'm just imagining things…there's no such thing as magic and you aren't warm. I'm just simply losing my mind." Ignoring the strange phenomenon, Alfred went back to thinking of a name. "Hmm…you're in Russia, and have been here for a long time…so…I think I'll call you…" he looked up at the face one more time "Ivan! Yeah, that's a common Russian name! Your name is Ivan! Ivan the Statue! My Ivan!"

Alfred grinned, pleased with himself for thinking of a name. He liked it here with Ivan. In fact, Alfred decided that he would come here every day because stone couldn't talk so it couldn't judge him. Not only that, but the aura from this area brought him a great deal of comfort. Alfred wondered if it tied in to all the strange dreams he's had. Maybe he was some kind of wizard! "Oh man, that would be awesome! I'll show everyone who's the coolest dude in town!" Alfred pat Ivan's boot. "I have to get going, Ivan, but I'll be back tomorrow, okay?" Ivan's stone face was still full of sorrow. "Hmm…I wonder what your story really is, Ivan. Or rather, what's MY story? I'm the one making friends with a piece of stone!" Alfred looked over the statue and felt himself suddenly blush. "A handsome one at that." He whispered under his breath. "WHAT IS HAPPENING TO ME? I'm cracking!" Maybe his dad was right; he should lay off the comic books.

"Gotta go! See ya tomorrow, Ivan!"

Alfred waved happily to the stone as he left the area but didn't make it more than few steps before something made him stop. From behind him, Alfred could hear people whispering, like the graves were speaking to one another. He couldn't make out what they were saying, but the whispering was loud enough to make him turn around. Nothing was moved, but the whispering was still going on. Alfred raised a brow, and without fright, walked back to the graves. Once he returned, the whispering stopped. Alfred looked at the statue of Ivan for a moment before suddenly running through the snow, making his way back to the base. No one would believe him, so he had to keep this to himself. His conscience was telling him to stay away from that place, but the rest of him yearned to go back. The yearning was stronger, so Alfred promised himself that he would revisit the graveyard and Ivan tomorrow.

~*~ Deep within the earth, in a whole other world…~*~

'Warm…' Whispered a sorrowful voice. Chains clinked against the frozen floor. 'Warm…'

/

He was flying over the land, looking down at the trees from above the clouds. The world was beautiful beneath his wings, and he soared through the sky as quick as a bird. Alfred loved to fly, and hated when he had to land on the earth. When he landed on the ground, though, what he heard was not the sound of nature. Instead, it was someone screaming in rage and pain. Alfred, concerned and confused, followed the sorrowful sounds. Yet his searching led him nowhere and all he could hear were the cries. Then, instead of screams, he heard words.

'Give him back to me! GIVE HIM BACK!'

'Who are you?' Alfred spoke out loud. 'Where are you?' He tried to find the person again, but found that his feet wouldn't move. He tried his wings, but they were frozen as well. Alfred looked at his hands, glowing with light, suddenly burst into flames. 'AHHH! Alfred tried to wave off the flames, but they traveled up his wrists, arms, and continued until he was completely engulfed. His body still would not move, but the pain was excruciating. 'HELP! HELP ME!' He looked down at his hands, now gray in color. His eyes widened as he watched his hands turn to ash and crumble. 'No…' And then the rest of his body followed suit until he had turned into a pile of hot ash.

Although his body was ash, Alfred could still see and hear what was going on around him.

'He shall be forever punished.' Came a strange voice.

'Does he deserve such a harsh fate?' Said another voice.

'His crimes are unforgivable. Death is not an option for him. He will suffer for all time.'

'And the other? The human?'

'We have nothing to fear from him. He will be forever bound in chains, wailing helplessly for a sun that will never come. But should the cycle of life ever be threatened…you know what to do.'

'Yes, my lord. It shall be done.'

Alfred awoke from his dream in a cold sweat. He sat up in the bed and panted heavily, gripping the sheets. He's never had THAT kind of dream before! What was that all about? Flying and burning and dying? Who were those people talking? What were they talking about? Were they talking about him? What did it mean, if anything at all? Alfred wiped the sweat from his brow and took a deep breath. These dreams have always plagued him, but never had one affected him so much. While the other dreams always made him sad and lonely, this one actually SCARED him. Something did not feel right about it, and that was the part that frightened him. The sound of the alarm startled him briefly, and he moved to shut it off with a sigh. The only thing he wanted to do, or rather, what his mind kept telling him to do, was go back and see Ivan. Alfred had his daily routine here at the base, so he couldn't leave right away like he wanted to.

He wanted to get to Ivan; he needed to be with that statue. Why he felt so strongly towards it was still troubling him, but he had a feeling that the meaning of his dream could be found there. The first chance he got, Alfred swore he would go back to the graveyard and seek his answers. He got up out of the bed and went to the window, gazing out at the area where the statue was. It couldn't be seen from his window, but Alfred knew whereabouts it was. Thinking of Ivan made him smile, and he placed his hand on the glass tenderly. "Am I really that lonely here? Am I so stupid and lame that I can only find peace with a statue?" He sighed heavily. "Well, no one else here makes me happy…so I guess I should grasp this happiness whenever I can get it." He smiled softly again and spoke the name: "Ivan."

Turning away from the window, Alfred missed the shadow that crawled past his window.

End Chapter 2 TBC
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Fallen Embers