I have been taking a bit of a break between chapters of my other story and writing this. It's a different mood from the other one-definitely lighter. And I decided to start posting it, even though I want to finish off the other one first, because of the time of year. Easter is in five days and, even though it's not about Easter and I know that not everyone celebrates the holiday, I felt that it was a little fitting.

I don't own Alvin and the Chipmunks. I don't own the Chipettes. I just like writing stories about them.

"I thought you said that you would help me out!"

"I never said that I would do it for you."

"You know I'm not smart enough to do it. I'm gonna fail if you don't help!

"That is really your problem, not mine."

"Do you even know how to be a brother?"

"Don't pull that on me. I know that card all too well."

"You just like seeing me suffer."

"I believe in learning from your own follies. You chose not to study and now you must reap what you sow."

"But I don't even know how to sew!"

He sighed.

"You just don't care. I knew it! You refuse to help me because you just don't want to. I don't understand you. I would help you!"

"I would never need your help."

"Fine! We're no longer brothers! I only have one brother now and that's Theodore!"

A door slammed and Alvin stood in his room, huffing and full of anger, staring at the book he had to do a report on to pass his history class and immediately regretting what he said to Simon.

A couple of hours had passed and the house was strangely quiet. Dave had left on a short business trip yesterday, leaving the boys at home alone. He never would have considered it when they were younger, but now that they were starting high school in the fall, he thought he'd give the boys a chance. Theodore was in the kitchen, looking through a recipe book while munching on a couple of cookies that Eleanor had given him. Alvin was upstairs in the bedroom, stretched out on his bed, listening to his iPod, and flipping through his phone. His report on Harry Houdini was still unfinished.

The fight was a normal occurrence for the two brothers. Usually, there was some effort on Simon's part to keep the peace, but he always ended up caving in and arguing with his hot-blooded older brother. Alvin would never admit it, but he thought that Simon was hilarious when he was mad and a couple of well-placed taunts was the perfect distraction from ennui for at least half an hour. But this time was a little more serious, and the possible guilt for disowning Simon was, maybe, starting to get to him, just a little bit. He had been restless for the past ten minutes, thinking about it.

Alvin sighed and took out his earphones. He needed to talk with Simon. They would always be brothers, through thick and thin, and even if Simon didn't want to help Alvin right now, that didn't mean that Simon wouldn't be there when Alvin definitely needed him. And it was the same for Alvin.

As a plus, if he made up with Simon now, then Alvin could probably guilt Simon into at least writing the outline for his paper on this Harry guy. Simon was a sucker for that type of stuff after a fight. And it was easier to make up with Simon by tricking him rather than to have a long, drawn-out, tear-jerking heart-to-heart with his little brother. Alvin nodded his head. That was what he was going to do.

"Hey Theodore," Alvin called as he bounded down the stairs and stopped into the kitchen. Theodore looked up and greeted Alvin with his trademarked smile. "Have you seen Simon?"

"Oh!" Theodore looked eager. "He's in the basement, I think. Are you going to make up with him?"

Alvin turned his way towards the basement. He should have known that Simon would have been down there. "Well, something like that," Alvin called back. He reached the door that lead to the basement, opened it, and pulled out his emotions. He had to look sorry for Simon to buy the making-up routine. He took a deep breath and walked down the stairs with steady but slow steps. He put on the most guilt-ridden face that he could contort himself into and readied himself with the appropriate tone of voice. "Simon?" He called out. Inwardly, he grinned. Nailed it.

But there was no answer. Alvin called out again, but still there was silence. Alvin glanced around, shifting his blue eyes from the lab table to the floor to a stool and then to the far corner of the room. With each object that he fixated his gaze on, his eyes grew wider and his mouth dropped lower. The table was a complete mess, with papers tossed about and interesting liquids pooling out of empty vials and test tubes. The floor also had an array of papers and broken glass. The stool had Simon's shirt on it and the base of the stool had the rest of Simon's clothes. Simon's glasses were nowhere to be found, but it appeared that a little piece of black plastic was by the stool.

The last place that Alvin looked was the far corner of the room. Something small and black was standing perfectly still. "Simon?" Alvin tepidly called out to it, moving slowly into the room and hearing the crunch of glass below his sneakers. The place was a mess. The tiny thing was rolled into a little ball, head down to the floor, eyes wide open, long ears flat on the back of his head and his little cotton tail hidden. Alvin had stumbled upon, what he was pretty sure, but was hoping to be mistaken, a rabbit.

Alvin knelt down carefully, watching where he placed his hands and looked at the scared little creature. It had black fur, long, floppy ears, and cute little whiskers. His eyes were pale blue and he just seemed to be staring back at Alvin. Slowly, carefully, gently, Alvin looked back over his shoulder and examined everything that he had seen.

Broken beakers and vials.

Papers all over the place.

Simon's clothes—not on him.

Spilled mystery liquids.

Probably a broken pair of glasses on the floor.

And a rabbit.

Alvin's eyes grew wide and he leaned down closer to the little black ball of fur. "S-s-simon?" Alvin asked quietly and fearfully. The rabbit gave a tiny jump and tore across the room as fast as his little legs would carry him. Alvin turned around quickly. "Simon!" Alvin chased after him. "Simon, come back! It's me, Alvin!" The rabbit raced under the table.

With skill that would have impressed the Dukes of Hazard, Alvin jumped and slid across the top of the table, landing on the other side and frightening off the rabbit into a different direction. He couldn't do anything but lunge after it, sliding on the floor in places due to the papers and praying that he would get ahold of his little-er, furrier, and now much more cuter brother. One particular slip caused Alvin to slide headlong towards the rabbit. It dodged over Alvin and Alvin continued until he hit the wall.

He sat up and held on to his head. It hurt. He had pulled a muscle in his leg from the running. He was out of breath. And there, sitting on the floor, right by the stool, looking as calm as calm could be, smelling his own clothes with his little black twitching nose—the rabbit was taunting Alvin. Simon, the stupid and, now, probably the smartest rabbit that was known to the entire world, was taunting Alvin. Alvin growled. The rabbit popped back into its little ball and remained still. This was the first time that Simon could beat Alvin in a game of tag, and, to Alvin, this game sucked. "It's on now, Nerd-o."

With an animalistic cry, Alvin pounced. The chase lasted another five minutes of loud screams, cursing, and crashes before Alvin shouted victoriously, the black rabbit held high in the air, staring with terrified wide eyes down at a grinning Alvin. "And the crowd goes wild!"

"Alvin?" Theodore asked quietly. Alvin dropped his arms and cradled Simon to his chest. "What are you doing down here?" Theodore looked at Alvin, then at the mess that was once Simon's lab.

Alvin looked around him, wincing as he saw each additional mess that he had made trying to catch Simon. He then looked at Theodore and held out the rabbit to him. "It's Simon!" Alvin blurted out.

Theodore looked very confused. He nodded his head, reassuring Alvin, and slowly backed up the steps. "Right," was all he said. Alvin was the left, holding a trembling rabbit in his arms, and realizing how this all must look. "Theodore, wait! I can explain," he shouted, dashing up the stairs with Simon in his arms.