AmericaXReader: Toy Soldier

    (Name) sat in the warm bath, her arms draped daintily over the edge of the tub, a bottle of whiskey in hand. Her legs dipped gently in and out of the lukewarm water, creating small tidal waves that would crash sloppily into the porcelain sides. Steam enveloped the small, private room, creating an isolating atmosphere.

   “Alfred…” (Name) groaned out, as she pressed one wet hand into her forehead. It was one of those days again; where she had to put a fake smile out for her son, where she had to pretend that she actually liked going to work and talking to totally self-conceited women. It was one of those days where she missed her ever absent jerk of a husband.

    “If you keep that up,the whole city’s gonna hear ya.”

    “Oh, shut up you.” (Name) slurred out, her limp arm flailing as she took another gulp of alcohol; the liquid raced down her throat, igniting a deep, hungry fire in her stomach. She could barely see straight, never mind the handsome blond man leaning into the door frame.

    “And what did I tell you about drinking in front of my son?”

   “ Isn't it funny how whenever I do something bad, he is always your son? Don’t you find that just a bit, y’know, off?” There was a stifling laugh from the man, his voice almost sound chocked. “ You've been gone for too long Alfred…”

   “I know…” The man stared at his wife, a mess. She used to be so beautiful, so happy. They had been together always, back to back, team work. He remembered he energetic glow, how she would make the other troops smile, in vain. But then, he had had to go away for a very long time. He opened the closet, pulling out a plain white towel and beckoning to her. “Come on, out ya go.”

     “No. I don’t want to.” She said with squarely crossed arms, turning her head away childishly. The man sighed, she always had been a stubborn one; he walked forward and in one quick motion had her body wrapped up, and was carrying her out. (Name) squirmed for a second, but the moment the sweet smell of her lover’s jacket hit her nose, she relaxed in his arms. She could feel the calming sound of his heart through the uniform. He set her down lightly on the bed, turning to slowly wipe her off. She shivered; first, the arms, then the legs; he let her finish as he went to go get clothes. When he returned, she sat there emptily, hands curled up at the lap.

   “Alfred, do you see this?” She murmured out, pressing his cold hand against her abdomen; he continued to dress her like a limp doll. He let out a questionable grunt when she didn’t answer. “It’s a barren womb. My barren womb; Alfred…your son doesn’t even know who you are, much less your face…”

   “That’s not right. He should know what a hero I am by now. What is he? Ummm…six?”

    “Yes, Alfred; six. Six years I’ve been alone, taking care of our son while you go play hero. Do you know all the tears I shed? Especially in the beginning, when I was home by myself, taking care of a baby child who couldn’t be silenced. I was judged by ever one in town! I love you so much! But! Do you know the pain that I’ve suffered jus’” (Name) was silenced as her husband’s parched lips smothered her fire filled words; that was all she needed. Her hand locked onto his blue jacket, the other bumped the white cap off of his head; it lay forgotten on the floor. Her hands rubbed his hair feverishly. Alfred grabbed her thigh, his arm cradling her head, his gloved hand dragging them closer. His other hand traveled up her gown, digging. (Names)’s hot huffs drafted into blushed faces, the only sound in the night their breathing; he went in for another heated kiss, locking them together once more. Their bodies moved together after spending so long apart, like a pair; he picked her up and slammed her against, provoking a small yet audible mew.

   “Alfred!” She hissed into his ear; he continued to kiss her roughly, grinding his head under her chin. She let out small whimpers as he touched her fiercely, feelings bubbling up inside that she hadn’t experience for ages. She tried to push him away reluctantly, but to no avail. “Alfred! Stop this! Stop! We’re going to wake the child up!”

   The man stopped abruptly, yet said nothing. His harsh breath wafted down the inside of her nightgown causing Goosebumps, and his thumb continued to massage small circles into her leg. His hair ruffled delicately under her chin and she heard a very distinct ‘I love ya.’ before he kissed (Name) one last time and helped her up; the two headed down to the kitchen.

   It was still dark outside; Alfred went into the kitchen as (Name) stretched on the couch, waiting for her husband to come. There was a strange silence, neither of them could deny the fact that they missed the other, yet it had all been somehow said in the quietness of the room, without any words. (Name) lazily tried to open the TV, the remote falling from her clumsy hands multiple times. As the TV jumped to life, she smiled, happy at her accomplishment even though the only thing on was infomercials.

   Alfred finally came over, in his arms, a large tray of milk and cookies, topped with the ever present whipped cream.

   “Hey! Those are for Santa!” (Name) growled out as she got up to welcome her husband. Her arm slipped around his waist and it was now her turn to rest her head against his chest. Her hand came out to straighten out his uniform collar to code standard. They both sat down and (Name)’s body naturally curled up around Alfred’s. “Was it your idea to come this early in the morning?”

   “Of course not.” He grinned, taking a bite of one of the sugar cookies. There was a look of content on his face, and (Name) knew he was home. As he continued to gobble down the small delicacies, he then turned to feed her one, first holding it over her mouth to where she just couldn’t reach; (Name) pouted, annoyed at her cruel husband. He finally gave in; a chuckle erupting from his chest as she quickly scarfed it down. (Name) muffled out, “I’m still angry with you.”

   “Hmm…? Why is that?” Alfred said, chopping down on another delicious cookie. He rubbed (Name)’s shoulder gently, propping her up against himself. They both stared at the unstable tree that sat in the middle of the living room. It honestly looked to Alfred as if the thing had been run over with a hummer multiple times. But never mind that.

   “When I was still pregnant with our son, I was so scared.” She muttered out, her voice slightly muted as she turned her head into his jacket. There was a quiet silence; Alfred urged (Name) to go on again, his hand running up and down her back soothingly.  (Name) took a large breath. “Sure, I’d been used to dodging bullets and bandaging bleeding bodies in milliseconds, but this…It was so new to me. Especially with you gone; every new feeling I got, I was scared. I needed you, but you weren’t there. You weren’t there to hold my hair back every morning as I threw up; you weren’t there to caress my hand when the pains came to rack my body.”

   Alfred was silent, an uncharacteristic serious frown dawning across his lips. “I did eventually come through.”

   “Yes, you did. But too late as usual; Alfred, you’ve been MIA for the last four years. The last time you came, the picture of you and Timmy; do you even remember that?”

   “Of course I remember!” He snapped. The grip on (Name)’s shoulder tightened. “Of course…”    She shook her head, out of grief or humor Alfred couldn’t tell.