Hey all!

Well after this had been floating around for a while, I finally decided to finish up and post it. This is supposed to be a multi-chapter story, but I might be slow on updates thanks to classes. I'll try to update whenever I can, but cut me some slack alright~?

A warning: Long intro is long. In fact, the first two chapters are both the introduction together. Please bear with me through my ridiculous wordiness. The next chapters won't be nearly as long and soon I'll be adding even more characters also!

Just to give credit where credit is due, Aiden is my friend's character for the personification of New York. Of course, the character is modified a little for the purposes of this story, since it's a human AU and I needed a douchey sort of guy. Sorry buddy!

Oh, and I lack a beta so please excuse any mistakes you might find until I get one. I hope you like it!

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"But seriously, what's the big hurry Mattie?" Alfred asked, shifting on the couch to get more comfortable as he watched his twin brother scurry around the brownstone. "You don't even have classes anymore. Just finals, right?"

"Yes but that's exactly why I have to get back." Matthew replied, using a finger to push his glasses up back up from where they had slipped down the bridge of his nose. He picked up a shoe from next to the coffee table and threw it in the suitcase that lay open on the living room floor. The bag had started out neatly packed, but soon became more of a mess as time passed and its owner became more desperate. "I really need to study and I've already been here way too long."

"Ouch. I'm hurt Matts. Was it really so bad to be back here with me for a few days?"

Matthew shook his head and sighed as he dropped to his jean-clad knees on the white carpet and began the struggle to close his suitcase, "You know that's not it, Al. I just have a lot of work to do. Besides, I'll be done in a few days and then we'll have all of Winter break together." He ran a hand through his thick blond hair as he contemplated the most effective way to rearrange the overstuffed piece of luggage.

Alfred rolled his eyes and leaned back into the dark red cushions with a huff. He and Matthew had moved from Washington D.C. to New York City a year and a half ago for school, and ever since things had become much more stressful. Alfred had attended NYU while Matthew earned a full scholarship to Columbia University, where he was hoping to pursue a career in medicine. Which was exactly why the other boy was currently in a rather panicked state; his classes were very challenging and there was a lot expected of him. In fact, if he didn't keep his grades up, he would lose his scholarship. Not that the two couldn't easily pay a full tuition, but it was the principle of the thing. "When I watch ya like this, it makes me happy that I dropped out."

Matthew looked up at his brother from where he sat on his suitcase, hoping the weight would coax it into closing, and frowned. Alfred had decided last summer that he was not going return to NYU for his sophomore year, and Matthew couldn't bring himself to accept nor understand the choice. But Alfred had his motives; being in that school hadn't made him feel like he was getting anywhere in his life and it didn't make him happy. So he'd left, and left behind his dreams of becoming an astronaut. He didn't feel as if those dreams were going anywhere, anyways. He knew that Matthew probably thought he was just lazy and unfocused, but it wasn't that simple. It couldn't be that simple; Alfred F. Jones was no quitter and therefore he knew that his reasoning had to be worth something. Even if he still couldn't fully explain the decision himself.

"Yes, well, some of us would like to have paying jobs." Matthew replied snippily, a bit of that snark he always pretended not to have showing through in his tone. Most people who met the tall, lanky, unassuming boy with the shy smile immediately thought him capable of nothing else but a soft voice and a honeyed disposition. Only Alfred knew that the sweet little package had quite a few sharp edges.

"Would you chill out, dude. I told you I was gonna look for a job eventually. It's not like we're going to run out of money anytime soon."

And they wouldn't. The two brothers had inherited their father's rather large amount of money after he was killed in a car accident about five years ago. The inheritance was more than enough to allow them to live a very comfortable lifestyle, and even to move to New York once they were of age and no longer needed Harrison around. The man had been a wonderful caretaker, but he was far too old to deal with the antics of two teenage boys. Well, one actually. Matthew was never one to stir the soup out of the pot, so he almost always followed the rules. But Alfred had been more than enough for the poor man, and even he couldn't be offended when Harrison was obviously the slightest bit happy to see them go.

Matthew huffed at him and stood up, brushing non-existent dirt from his shirt. "That doesn't mean you should just sit around and do nothing forever. What happened to your dream of becoming an astronaut? I know it isn't gone, Al. I still see you gazing at the stars all the time."

Alfred shrugged, "It's on hold I guess. Don't worry Matts, I'll be back on track before you know it! That's just how I work. After all, I never give up!"

"…Please don't start calling yourself 'the hero' again."

Alfred blew a raspberry into the air, "I haven't done that in forever! Dontcha ever let things go?"

"I know, but that hero complex of yours is still there no matter what you say." Matthew replied with a soft laugh, "Do you remember when you used to wear that blanket around your neck wherever you went? You called it your –"

"Super awesome hero cape." Alfred interrupted with a roll of his eyes, "Yeah I remember. And again, you never let things go."

Matthew smiled a little slyly, "Only because they're too funny to let go." The boy blew that one long, uncontrollable curl out of his face and looked around to make sure the room was in order. Matthew had a thing about leaving the house when it wasn't spick and span, even if he knew that Alfred would probably mess it up within a few hours of his departure. "Oh, I forgot to mention. I talked to Francis yesterday and he says he's going to come over in a couple days. I just wanted to let you know so you don't attack him when he comes in the door again."

Alfred shrugged. It hadn't been his fault that he'd forgotten the Frenchman had a key to the brownstone. "Yeah yeah. Is he bringing food over from the restaurant?" He asked, eyes lighting up in excitement over the prospect of Francis's cooking. Their childhood friend (more like their older brother, from the way he acted) had opened up his own restaurant in New York a couple years ago, and he'd been so excited when he found out Alfred and Matthew were moving to the city for school. Now, every once in a while, he would come and visit the boys with some left-overs in hand.

"Of course. You know how proud he is of his food. He just loves to watch us eat it."

"Pffft. Dude's like a blimp; completely full of hot air."

Matthew giggled at that. Even he couldn't deny that Francis was quite arrogant at times, though he supposed having women hang off of one's arm on a constant basis tended to do that. "Don't antagonize him when he gets here. You know he can talk circles around you."

"Yeah, I know. Nothing fazes the guy, it's so annoying." Alfred shifted on the couch so he was lying down on his back, with his legs dangling and kicking over the rounded armrest. "Anything else I should know?"

"Well, Kumajirou could use a bath soon. His fur's starting to look a little dusty."

Alfred sat up again immediately, "No way, man! I'm not dealing with that again! Last time nearly broke my sanity!"

Matthew shook his head, "You're being dramatic again Alfie. It's really not that bad. Just make it quick and you shouldn't have a problem with him."

As if on cue, the white, fluffy dog padded into the room and yawned widely. Kumajirou swiveled his perked up, almost rounded ears around and towards the source of both voices. As soon as his small black eyes landed on Matthew, he planted his feet to brace himself and began to bark, as if he was looking at a stranger.

Matthew's shoulders sagged in a slight sulk. "Kuma, it's me. Why don't you ever remember? I'm the one who feeds you."

The voice seemed to jog the small animal's memory, for he immediately stopped barking and waddled over to lean his side against Matthew's lower leg. Alfred snorted, amused. Ever since Matthew had found the dog wandering the D.C. streets as a puppy, the two had been pretty much inseparable, even if for some strange reason Kumajirou always seemed to forget who his owner was.

"I'm not giving the bear a bath." Alfred harrumphed, crossing his arms. "I actually like not having bite marks on me."

Matthew gave him a long-suffering look and frowned a bit. "Why do you always call him that? And if you didn't keep doing it wrong, he wouldn't bite you."

"I call him a bear because he acts like one! Hell, he even looks like a little polar bear." Alfred responded, sending a scowl down at Kumajirou, who simply looked up at him and twitched his little black nose. "He's a vicious little evil mastermind when anyone but you tries to even get him near the tub. I swear he plans out his attacks. Like when he made me fall into the tub that one time!"

The memory caused Matthew to start laughing softly and bend over to give the dog a pat. "Well I guess he just doesn't like the way you give him baths. But you still have to do it, you know." He said, giving Alfred a stern look.

Alfred rolled his eyes, "I know. Gotta make sure your 'precious dog' is clean."

"That's right." After one last stroke of downy white fur, Matthew pushed Kumajirou away gently with a nudge of his leg. "I have to get going now Al. You're trying to stall again, I can tell." He looked to Alfred and gave a gentle smile, "Try not to do anything too wild while I'm away, eh?"

"Whatever dude, you're such a buzz kill." Alfred stood from the couch and made his way lazily over to Matthew and gave his twin a pat on the shoulder. "You're already looking like the walking dead, Mattie. Don't kill yourself trying to study, alright?"

"I won't, I won't." Matthew knelt down to take hold of the handle of his suitcase, then stood again with a quiet grunt as he pulled up the weight of the bag.

"Super." But Alfred knew that his brother would be spending many hours, possibly overnight, studying for those tests. And he also knew that nothing he said would stop Matthew from doing so. But then again, he was certain that Matthew knew that he probably would not just sit around in the house and do nothing. The soft-spoken boy was aware of how much Alfred disliked staying in an empty house alone. He also knew how Alfred hated it when he was gone for long periods of time. Sometimes Alfred would think about all the things that could happen to Matthew when he was gone for days and days, things that Alfred wouldn't find out about until a long while after they occurred. It was a scary thought, and it made his natural protective streak, or "hero complex" as Matthew called it, flare up.

But Alfred never liked to dwell too long on those kinds of thoughts. He didn't see any point in moping and worrying through life like the world was going to end in a few months. Even if he did believe all of those 2012 apocalypse stories, and he was not going to decide either way because you never know, the world is a strange place, he'd rather spend the whole time living it up rather than shivering in the dark. Maybe he'd finally go skydiving this year, just in case.

"I'll be back soon. Try not to space out like this too much while I'm gone, you could end up missing a burglary."

The sound of his brother's voice snapped Alfred out of his thoughts again, and he glanced towards the front hall. Matthew had the door propped open with one leg as he struggled to pull his favorite red hoodie onto his lanky form. When his head emerged again, he gave Alfred another smile.

"Bye Al."

"See ya, Matts."

Matthew took hold of the handle of his suitcase again, grabbed his car keys off of the small table next to the door, and was gone after one last wave.

Kumajirou barked twice, as if that would be enough to bring his owner back, and he padded over to the door to sit directly in front of it. He then proceeded to paw at the barrier between him and Matthew, giving a low, unhappy whine as his nails scratched small grooves into the dark, polished wood.

"No little dude, we're not starting that again." Alfred said sternly. The dog had started doing this the first time Matthew left for an extended period, and had not stopped ever since. Before Alfred had chosen not to go back to school, both brothers had lived mainly in the brownstone and left from there to attend their classes. But now that Alfred was home almost all of the time, Matthew had chosen to spend most of his nights in college housing, closer to the Columbia campus; the lack of commute helped take some of the stress away from his difficult, tiring class schedule. Kumajirou suddenly found that his owner would go missing for days at a time, and he did not like that one bit. He was distressed enough that, if Alfred let him, he would sit in front of the door for hours. That was an unhealthy amount of focus for the lazy mutt, who preferred to sleep most of his day away under normal circumstances.

Alfred marched over to the door, sliding slightly on the hardwood floor with his socked feet, and bent down to pick the dog up around his middle. With a grunt, he stood straight up again and started back towards the living room. "You're heavier than you look, bud. It might be diet time."

Kumajirou let out a small growl, as if he'd understood the insult, and started squirming in the hold, wanting to be set down. Alfred gave a laugh and set him down on the couch, patting the dog's head until he settled down into a curled up ball on the cushion. Sighing, the boy joined him, flopping down on the couch and slouching until his back was almost parallel with the ground.

"Now what?" Alfred asked himself as he stared at the ceiling and propped his feet up on the dark wood of the coffee table. He could watch some TV, he supposed, he'd recorded a new episode of that ghost show. But in the end he decided not too; it's not that it scared him or anything, he just wasn't in the mood! That's all!

The slow, stay-at-home life was really not Alfred's style. He liked to go out and roam the streets, or go to parties and just lose himself in the never-ending alcohol and pulsing music. But he hadn't been able to go to many of those parties since he decided not to return to college. Alfred snickered a bit as he recalled how he would practically drag his bookwormish Japanese roommate to every party he could. Hmm, he hadn't seen Kiku in a while; he would have to call him up at some point.

But that did not help him right now, and he was already starting to get bored out of his mind. The hyperactive 19-year-old needed something to occupy him at almost all times, or he started getting restless, which usually led to something breaking in the house (he'd apologized for breaking Matthew's glass moose statue while playing indoor baseball abouta million times, but his brother never forgave him for that one.)

Alfred looked around blearily for a few more moments, trying to decide a way in which to occupy himself. The lack of another's presence in the house was making him antsy; he hated it when Matthew went off and left him alone in this place.

"Maybe I should go on a walk." He said aloud to himself, as he was often prone to do when he was alone. "Hmm, Aiden might be around. That'd make things more exciting at least…."

Suddenly, with a gasp, he remembered that he had indeed arranged to meet with his supplier today. "Shit." He said quietly as he pulled his cellphone out of his pocket to look at the time: 12:37. He'd agreed to meet with Aiden at 12:30, and now he had to walk to the street corner where the other boy usually hung out, which would make him even later.

"Haha, he's gonna be pissed that I took so long!" He exclaimed, popping up from the couch and turning around to give the dog a wide grin, as if the animal had been the one he'd been talking to. Kumajirou stopped cleaning his paw momentarily to look up at Alfred with a bored expression. "Hey." Alfred said dryly, pointing a finger at the dog, "Don't give me that look, bear. I don't need your judgment."

He didn't stick around to see Kumajirou yawn and return to cleaning himself, as he was already off and into the kitchen to grab his wallet from atop the marble counter. Flipping open the beat up leather, he flicked through the bills inside with his thumb, counting. "Da, da, da, da,da…..perfect! That should be enough." The young man closed the wallet and stuffed it into the back pocket of his worn-out jeans, then snatched his house key off of the countertop as well.

He slid into the front room and made his way quickly to the closet by the front door, swinging it open and using a heel to drag out his red Converses. After a bit of hopping around, he managed to get the shoes onto his feet and the laces tied. Then he carefully pulled out his bomber jacket, brushing off the worn brown leather with a small smile before stuffing his arm into one sleeve and swinging it on.

"Be back later Kuma!" He called back into the living room, as if the dog actually cared about where he was going. When he got the expected silence as an answer, he shrugged and swung the door open.

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Alfred shivered when he stepped out into the brisk winter air, pulling his coat tighter around himself as he turned to slam the door shut and lock it with slightly trembling fingers. He had always been more of a summer person, and it didn't take much for him to start shivering. Matthew would always make fun of him for it, but it wasn't Alfred's fault that his brother seemed to have become some sort of Eskimo during the years he'd spent in Canada. The boy could handle the cold as if he had that layer of fat polar bears used to survive the frozen tundra. Alfred grinned slyly as he skipped down the steps of the brownstone; he would have to use that one to get back at Matthew some time.

He shoved his hands into his pockets and peered around, eyes squinting as a frigid breeze blew directly into his face. He and Mattie had really lucked out when they managed to find a place in Brooklyn Heights; real estate was tight and it had taken quite a bit of charming and negotiation to earn their place in one of New York's nicest neighborhoods. That, and a lot of delving into their deep pockets. Matthew had loved the place immediately, and Alfred supposed that it did suit him. The area was quiet and clean, and the crisp architecture of the buildings pressed together like they were best friends was pleasing to the eye. He could understand why a home here was so sought after.

But Alfred had always liked being right in the middle of things, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of fast paced, American life. He had hoped they would find an apartment further into the city, where cars raced and the lights shone brightly and he could watch the people walk by and wonder where they were going and why they were in such a hurry. In the heart of New York City, where he could step outside and immediately see three pizza shops, hear a cacophony of street music, and get lost in the writhing, pulsing, ever-changing rhythm of human life. Where he could lose himself easily in the push and pull, if he was so inclined, or shout at the top of his lungs in the middle of a crowd and have thousands of eyes turn his way. And maybe they would be judging but they would also be recognizing, and that was all Alfred really wanted anyways.

This neighborhood was just too quiet, and as he walked down the sidewalk Alfred found himself looking out for a sign of life. Perhaps a couple arguing loudly or a shabby-dressed man with a scraggly beard and a crooked grin and banging a rhythm on a bucket drum to earn a bit of spare change from passersby.

Alfred decided he would definitely have to take another trip to Time Square soon as he continued to walk, fast approaching the street corner that was his destination. Already he could see a familiar figure standing there, leaning against a lamppost and fiddling with the zipper on a thick black hoodie. The darker skinned young man looked up as Alfred approached and furrowed his black brows as he scowled in annoyance.

"Took ya long enough, Jones." He spat out in a thick Brooklyn accent, "I was standin here freezing my balls off while you took your sweet time."

"Sorry Aiden, I was just sayin bye to my brother." Alfred replied, giving the other boy a charming, apologetic grin, "I'm guessing ya got the good stuff and some news, yeah?"

The boy huffed and nodded, "Yeah I got it, s'long as you got the cash." His lips then spread into a sly, knowing smirk, "And it just so happens that I have heard about something interesting goin down tonight."

"Really? Well you gotta tell me all about it, man." Alfred slid a hand out of his coat and held it out to accept the small bag of weed Aiden passed to him, and then stuffed it and his hand back into his pocket, "Is it another party? The last one you told me about was pretty fuckin awesome."

Alfred had met Aiden Lavelle nearly a year ago, when he was fresh into the New York area. A friend of his at NYU had recommended him as a dealer, and it just so happened that the boy lived in Brooklyn Heights as well, just a few blocks away from Alfred. Along with being a dealer, Aiden always seemed to know what exciting things were going on in the city and was the go-to guy when one was lacking something to on a Friday night. He was one of those kids that grew up with a rich family and in a wealthy neighborhood, but acted as if he rejected that lifestyle. Aiden was never lacking for money or connections, and Alfred suspected that was why he always seemed to know about all the best underground parties. But judging by the other's current, shrewd demeanor, what he was talking about this time was no regular gathering.

"Nah Jones, this ain't no party." Aiden drawled out, proving Alfred's assumption correct, "What's happenin tonight is an auction."

"An auction?" Alfred questioned as he fished payment out of his other pocket and offered it, "You mean like, one of those things where they hold up some kinda antique and people bid on it? Why would I want to know about that?"

"Not just any auction, bro." The boy replied, rolling his eyes and snatching the money, "An auction of rare creatures. As in, the organization runnin it finds animals and things with cool mutations and offers them as pets to the highest bidder. It sounds fuckin insane right? We have to go just to see that shit, man!"

"Dude, why would I want to go watch some sketchy guys sell cats with three legs." Alfred responded dryly, pulling his hands out of his pockets to cross his arms over his chest.

"No, dammit. I'm not talkin any normal ass mutations." Aiden said smarmily, then leaned in conspiratorially, "I'm talkin about dogs with two fuckin working heads and rats the size pigs. That's the crazy shit these people travel all around the world to find. It's fuckin nuts!"

Alfred raised an eyebrow at that, not completely believing the other. But he had to admit, he was very much intrigued. He had always been a fan of the supernatural and abnormal, and Aiden had never steered him wrong before. Besides, all he'd planned to do tonight was laze around on the couch, perhaps with a box of pizza and an old superhero movie. At least this sounded exciting, if anything.

"Fine Aiden, we'll go to this thing. If only to show ya that it's complete bullshit. And I'm not buying anything either." Alfred agreed after a few moments of silence, letting his hands drop to his sides, "I don't even know how you find out about this shit, man. Where is it, and when are we going?"

Aiden grinned and took a step back, satisfied that he'd convinced his companion, "Oh, trust me Jones. This is legitimate. Ya know I have my sources." He rubbed his ungloved hands together in an attempt to warm them, "It's goin down in the basement of this abandoned warehouse downtown. Meet me here at midnight and we'll take the subway, got it?"

"Yeah I got it. Here at midnight." Alfred turned away partially, ready to head back home and get out of this ridiculous cold. He really hated the cold. "See ya later, dude." He said with a grin, "Try not to get into any trouble. And this thing tonight better be awesome."

"Oh, it will be." Aiden replied, turning his back to Alfred and waving a hand dismissively, "Later then."

Alfred stared at the hoodie-clad back for a brief moment, then shrugged and began to walk away. As he hummed along to the rhythm his sneakers slapped against the concrete, he felt something akin to worry bubble up in his stomach. Something didn't seem right about this, Alfred could feel it in his gut. And he always trusted his gut. But he figured that he'd go anyways, see what was going on. If anything seriously unethical was going on, he could always leave the building and tell the police about it.

"Yeah." He muttered to himself, looking up at the hazy white winter sky and smiling widely, "That'd definitely make me the hero."

As he made his way back to the brownstone, all he could think was one thing:

Mattie would be so pissed off if he found out about all of this.