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 The Walls Came Crashing Down

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Tobi-chan
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PostSubject: The Walls Came Crashing Down    Wed Jun 01, 2011 2:13 pm

A/N: This is an alternate situation for "And Here We Are"...I s'pose it presents yet another controversy. One that really, really upsets me.

The Walls Came Crashing Down

Alfred F. Jones
July 4, 1987-July 1, 2011
Hero
Brother
Son
Friend
Comrade
Beloved
"The road does not end here."


Don't you hate it when a nice, pleasant funeral is interrupted by angry shouts? No? You've never experienced this? Oh. Well, that makes sense, considering Arthur Kirkland never so much as imagined this could happen to him.

Not that the funeral was a happy occasion; funerals rarely are. Poor Matthew probably couldn't hear the protests over his wails, and Arthur himself had barely kept from collapsing onto the ground and bawling like a baby. Aside from those ridiculous racketeers, everyone present had loved Alfred dearly. Who wouldn't? He was handsome, charming, optimistic, and, as he'd told each and every one of them constantly, he was a hero.

Arthur was still struggling to figure out why they'd engraved "Son" on his headstone, though. As far as he knew, Alfred's parents were both long dead. Perhaps they'd needed something to fill the extra space.

Ah, but of course, those idiotic religious fanatics still needed to be dealt with. Arthur could more or less understand their position; he was of the Catholic church himself, and as such he had been raised under very strict views. However, rallying at a dead man--a dead soldier's funeral to protest his sexuality? Excuse him if it was horribly incorrect to see something morally wrong with that situation.

He knew the story by heart. Alfred had shoved one of his comrades, a boisterous Aussie fondly known as "Bruce", out of the way of an incoming grenade. As a result, he had been struck by shrapnel, and despite intensive efforts by the rest of his unit, they were unable to remove it all before it reached his heart. One of them managed to drag his body back to camp; while they were removing his dog tags, they also uncovered a wedding band with Arthur's name engraved on it.

Bruce was present at the funeral, his hat clutched at his side while his other hand tried fruitlessly to hide the tears streaming down his face. Apparently, he and Alfred had been pretty good mates, so he showed up despite the tension caused in their unit by the posthumous revelation of Alfred's sexuality.

Even so, there were the protestors, waving signs and shouting about homosexuality's "unholiness" and how Alfred was probably "condemned", regardless of his ever-enduring faith in the Holy Spirit. A faint ghost of a smile made its way onto Arthur's lips as he recalled countless Wednesdays, Sundays, and holidays spent in church as Alfred went on and on about the wonders of God or stared in awe at the baptism of a newly born child. After his scarring experiences with the Catholic church, Arthur had nearly abandoned his beliefs, but Alfred's enthusiasm and refusal to let him miss a single sermon had convinced him otherwise.

"My condolences," murmured Gilbert Bielschmidt, another friend of Alfred's. Arthur nodded in acknowledgement, fearing actual speech would cause him to either scream or cry hysterically. Upon closer inspection, Gilbert looked rather...angry?

Right, right. Gilbert was straight himself, but his shy little brother had come out of the closet a year or so ago, thanks in part to advice from Alfred. "I don't know how much longer this will hold up, Kirkland," Gilbert sighed, directing his piercing crimson gaze towards the clouded skies. Arthur threw him a questioning look, wondering just what he was refering to. "This fragile peace," he explained, "I think Lovino's about ready to scream at them, and I wouldn't put it past Ivan to beat them to death."

"That is correct thinking you have, Bielschmidt. However, if you are wanting my pipe, you could do the job yourself." Arthur had always wondered just what it was that kept Ivan and Alfred from throwing all common curtesies away and either killing each other or wedding each other. Alfred couldn't hide everything from him; Arthur knew all about his past on/off relationship with the burly Russian. He also knew that Ivan had never really stopped caring for Alfred, despite his deeply forged relationship with Arthur.

"Poor little Mathieu," Francis Bonnefoy, the newest addition to their steadily growing group, sighed, gesturing towards Alfred's twin brother. "I don't think he ever really expected--"

Unfortunately, none of them ever found out exactly what Matthew hadn't been expecting (though they could certainly guess), because at that moment, one of the particularly loud protestors shouted, "He deserved to die for his sin!", refering, of course, to Alfred.

Never before had Arthur seen quite so many people become thoroughly enraged. Naturally, he was one of those furious fellows. The policemen who'd showed up to control the situation if it got out of hand were completely overwhelmed by the sheer number of funeral-goers surging towards the comparably smaller crowd of protestors. Leading them was none other than Matthew Williams, seeming almost possessed by grief and rage.

How odd. The only other time Arthur could recall seeing Matthew quite so angry was a certain hockey match that hadn't gone very well for the Canadian team.

This thought was enough to banish the cloud of fury from Arthur's mind; sweet, innocent Matthew, attacking people?

Why?

How?

Why had this happened?

How could things go so terribly awry?

Arthur stood, desolate, by the headstone of his beloved. Finally, he allowed the dams to break; with a nearly inhuman shriek, he gave himself over to his grief.

The world had lost its warmth, and all that remained was a cold, dark place: a mere shadow of what it had once been.

Somewhere deep inside of his subconscious, Arthur had a feeling things would never be the same again.

~Tobi~
~I haven't done quite so much research on those funeral weirdoes. I know that they were actually protesting homosexuality by saying soldiers' deaths were God's way of punishing the United States, but I thought it would be equally appropriate in a situation in which the soldier was actually gay.~
~D; Poor Art-hur.~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Life is like thunder; powerful, confusing, wonderous, loud, inexplainable, sudden, beautiful in ways you can't even begin to describe, and completely unexpected. Death is like lightning; it strikes even the most powerful things, and shoots through the ground to everyone nearby, leaving them with only a painful aftershock.

Almost dying changes nothing. Dying changes everything.

Cry me a river, build a bridge, and get over it.
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PostSubject: Re: The Walls Came Crashing Down    Wed Jun 01, 2011 9:28 pm

Hm, an interesting take. Very sad, I must say, but rather well written. I just had trouble keeping up with the Alfred-Arthur part. Who was dead and who wasn't. Maybe try some name changes? And at the begining it seemed like first person, then you kinda got the vibe it was third. Try being clearer next time? Rather good though. Maybe you could post a video of these protests so we could get a better feel for it?
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PostSubject: Re: The Walls Came Crashing Down    Thu Jun 02, 2011 12:45 pm

Ah, I thought the headstone made it rather clear who was dead, considering it had his name on it. Also, Gilbert probably wouldn't be addressing Arthur if he were dead (Arthur, that is). Nonetheless, if you could give me a few examples, I'd be happy to go back and clear it up. Since this is more or less a companion piece, perhaps "And Here We Are" would lessen the fog a tad? Or perhaps not. I s'pose things are rather sketchy. Do you mean the similarity between "Arthur" and "Alfred"? They are both old man names...

Actually, this is third person, as it never says "I" or "me", but instead "you". It might perchance drift from third person omniscient to third person limited, but without the explicit "I" doing the action, I don't believe it is ever really first person. If you'd like to prove me wrong, however, that is perfectly fine. ;D That's simply my take. I'm actually rather proud that I never slipped from "Arthur" to "me" while writing, considering how many things I write in first person. Maybe you're just very used to my first person works? I dunno. ;D My brain's t'slow to figure psychology out at the moment. Late night and all.

If I do happen across a video, I'd be glad to post it~! I don't think many funeral-goers attack the people, though. This was just an extremity seeing as Alfred (dead guy) himself was gay.

~Tobi~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Life is like thunder; powerful, confusing, wonderous, loud, inexplainable, sudden, beautiful in ways you can't even begin to describe, and completely unexpected. Death is like lightning; it strikes even the most powerful things, and shoots through the ground to everyone nearby, leaving them with only a painful aftershock.

Almost dying changes nothing. Dying changes everything.

Cry me a river, build a bridge, and get over it.
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PostSubject: Re: The Walls Came Crashing Down    Thu Jun 02, 2011 1:02 pm

Fortunately, there seems to be only one church organization OF PSYCHOS. And homophobes. There is no actual video footage of the protests, however. If any of you find one, please post it. Meanwhile, there are plenty of signs, here's a list of some of them: "Thank God for dead soldiers", "Thank God for 9/11", "Thank God for IEDs", "God hates you". Yeah. These people are clearly not a psychotic religious cult.

Oh, here's an interview with one of them:



Yeah. She even LOOKS insane. D;

~Tobi~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Life is like thunder; powerful, confusing, wonderous, loud, inexplainable, sudden, beautiful in ways you can't even begin to describe, and completely unexpected. Death is like lightning; it strikes even the most powerful things, and shoots through the ground to everyone nearby, leaving them with only a painful aftershock.

Almost dying changes nothing. Dying changes everything.

Cry me a river, build a bridge, and get over it.
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