Something to believe in
HAPPY EASTER!
Next chapter, tada! I've always had the idea that America and Prussia would be pretty good friends, so they are in this fanfic, as well as Kiku. If you're wondering why the ages are so strange (like Arthur is older than Gilbert and Kiku and stuff) it just made sense to me that Arthur be his older step brother and look after since his parents are, well, you'll find out.
Anyway, enjoy and don't forget to leave a review. :)
Chapter 1:
Alfred's POV
'He's there again.'
It was barely noticeable; he was practically translucent, the movement only just caught from the corner of my eye. The boy, who I'd had become a little too accustomed to, pushed his glasses slightly higher up his nose with delicate fingers and brushed his wavy blond hair behind his ear, a pointless action since it fell right back into place. He must have felt my gaze, because he glanced up from whatever he was reading and looked at me; only for a second, however, before I tore my eyes away.
This wasn't the first time, not by a long shot. Said boy, of whom I'd decided to call Matthew due to his striking resemblance to… someone I was once very close too, had been appearing around me for about six years. He's never spoken, as far as I'm concerned, but his lips move sometimes, like he's trying to. At first, I was terrified. I watched, all those years ago, as the ice cracked and he disappeared through it. I watched him sink into the obscure depths, out of my reach, gone forever.
Honestly, I thought it was his ghost, come to haunt me for breaking my promise. I went running to my older brother in waterworks that night, quakes of utter terror wracking my body.
"Don't let the ghost take me, I didn't mean it, I'm sorry Mattie!" I remember screaming. He assured me that it wasn't my fault, and that Matthew wasn't coming back to plague me. Even so, I slept in his bed for the next few months... and I never have quite gotten over that experience.
Then, I thought it was just a phase, and I was imagining him to fill the hole left behind. I started treating him like an imaginary friend, talking to him and playing with him in the garden. My older brother thought it was cute, but then I'd seen him talking to himself plenty of times before, so I guess it seemed normal to him.
As I got older, however, he still wouldn't leave, yet I carried on dismissing it as a figment of my overactive imagination. I tried to pretend he wasn't there, even when he tried to get my attention I'd ignore him and I suppose he eventually gave up. But, after my parents died, I didn't have the will power (or the heart, since he'd sunk pretty low over that year) to block him out anymore, and ended up spilling my guts out to him late into the night; I needed the company more than he did, to be fairly honest. It never really bothered me that he was there, in fact I became quite comfortable around him, that is, until Arthur was diagnosed.
"Alfred!"
And I started thinking...
"Alfred? Are you okay?"
What if-
"ALFRED! THE AWESOME ME IS GOING TO KICK YOUR ARSCH IF YOU DON'T SNAP OUT OF IT!"
"W-what, what's that? Who's there!"I stammer, my thoughts having been abruptly interrupted.
"Um, Gilbert, I think that was a bit much..." Kiku said, laying a hand on the Albino's shoulder, hesitantly.
'Keep calm, your a hero, just keep calm.'
"Ja, ja. Anyway, are we going home or not, or would you rather sit here with the vulture all night?" Gilbert's lips curled into a smirk as he motioned to the maths teacher, hunched over, watching them silently from the front of the classroom with beady eyes.
"Way ahead of you, dude!" I shouted, perhaps a little louder than was needed, and jostled away from my desk, pulling Kiku and Gilbert with me as I made a mad dash for the door, with one last glance to where Matthew was, still sat in the very corner of the classroom, fiddling with the slightly darker ends of his hair.
...
Lockers squeaked in protest as they were thrown open forcefully. The locker room went from a state of silence to complete chaos in less than a second, people pushed and shoved through the crowd of hyper active student, hanging onto each other's bags for dear life as they were pulled through the commotion. Even the teachers made a run for it. Fortunately for me, I'd won the battle of top locker (I was a bit too smug about that) leaving Gilbert the pleasure of kneeling beneath to get to his.
"Ugh, I hate this school, so unawesome, they need bigger lockers!" Gilbert moaned, trying and failing to yank his bag from the metal death trap.
"Oh give it a rest dude." I rolled my eyes, kicking the German beneath me playfully. I was definitely feeling a bit too smug about that. Gilbert shot me a warning glare, but it's hard to be intimidating when you've just fallen backwards onto your face.
"Well, your bag isn't stuck anymore!" I managed to say before bursting into hysterics.
"Ja ja, very funny! Next term you're having this locker!" Gilbert protested as he pushed himself off of the floor, roughly elbowing a few people out of his way.
"Not if I can help it."
"Whatever, hurry up, I want to get home on time today, Ludwig had a heart attack last time I was late." The albino chuckled nervously.
"Alright, on the count of three, we make a break for it, you ready, one, two-"
"Drei!" Gilbert yelled, grabbing my arm in a vice grip as he yanked me through the masses with such force that I could've sworn he dislocated my shoulder at least twice. We managed to make it out alive though, practically falling through the double doors and out onto the concrete steps.
"Dude! Give a guy a warning will ya!" I heaved, rolling my shoulders to make sure my arms were still in tact "I need these for soccer!".
"Okay hot shot, lets get out of here."
...
Me and Gilbert part ways a few streets down from the school gates, leaving me to walk the majority of the way home alone. Well, not completely alone. I turned my head slightly to check he was indeed still there, walking just a few paces behind me, reading the same book as before. The front cover was completely blank, apart from the title 'The Dead of Winter' written in small, intricate lettering.
'How ironic...'
Ugh, that's something Arthur would say; I'm turning into a cynical old man.
I groaned aloud. I obviously sounded more irritated than I thought because Matthew flinched, halting abruptly and even taking a few steps back as looked up at me with wide violet eyes. After a moment of panic, they softened and he mouthed what I guessed was an apology before turning his attention back to the book. I let out a breath I didn't even realise I was holding. I always made the mistake of looking straight into those eyes, the same eyes that I remember looking up to all those years ago. Lost in deep thought, I hadn't noticed that Matthew had caught up with me and was now at my side, so when he waved a pale hand in front of my face, I was more than a little surprised (and might have squeaked, like a hero would mind you!).
"Woah, don't do that." I laughed nervously, scratching the back of my neck. "You're gonna give me a panic attack."
He looked just as surprised as I did; he's a bit jumpy. Though, I think he was probably more surprised at the fact I'd actually acknowledged him. He mouthed another 'sorry', fiddling with his hair again, a nervous habit he, or Matthew, had always had. I should've turned away and left it at that, gotten on with my life denying his existence. Instead, I gestured for him to keep walking, checking that we were definitely alone. Luckily, I lived by the old railway track and not many people came down here, not with the rumours of mass murderers and shady gangs.
"Seriously, if you did that in a crowded place, people would think I'm losing it." I laughed again, more energetic this time. He blinked a few times, then smiled and mouthed another sorry.
"You apologise way too much." I said "And don't say sorry again!" I added as he opened his mouth. Rather than shutting it again, he just ended up gawking like a fish, which made me laugh. Blushing, he looked down at the ground, his book now closed at his side. I was suddenly reminded of how much I missed this.
I would've said more, but I was alerted by the familiar clatter of the broken clasp on the garden gate. Our current house wasn't much, not like our old one used to be, but it was enough. It was small, with only two bedrooms, a living room, a kitchen and an upstairs bathroom, but I had my own room and the garden made up for the cramped inside space. Since Arthur was a florist, it was adorned with a beautiful variety of colourful flowers, tulips, poppies, fuchsias, he even refused to kill the dandelions.
The hinges of the rusty gate gave a high pitched whine as I climbed over and I could here Arthur talking in the back garden, which meant that he was most likely tending to his most prized possessions. Matthew clambered over the gate after me, though it made no sound this time.
"Artie, I'm home!" I called, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl on the garden bench.
"I know, I heard you climb the gate, which I've told you not to do countless times." He grumbled, though his voice held no real bite, glancing over his shoulder at me. Just as I thought, he was busy trimming his rose bush.
"Come on, it's broken anyway."
"Who's fault is that?"
"Hey, you said you wouldn't bring that up, I honestly thought I could fly!" I protested. Matthew's body suddenly shook in what must've been silent laughter and he hastily covered his mouth with both hands as his lips twitched upwards. Yeah... It's a long story...
"Exactly." Arthur smirked over his shoulder, then went back to his conversation with the rose bush.
'But that's not what he's talking to... at least not to him.'
"A-anyway, I'm going to my room to do homework, I'll make dinner when I'm done." I burst out, not knowing what else to say. In the corner of my eye, Matthew frowned slightly, but said (or mouthed) nothing.
"I can cook dinner if you'd li-"
"No! Uh, I'm fine, I like cooking and... stuff."
"If you're sure." Arthur replied with a shrug, running a hand through his disheveled blond locks without turning his attention from his beloved roses; I swear they may as well have been his children with all the time he spends with them. However, it gave me the go ahead to escape up to my bedroom. Of course, Matthew followed, but not before taking a tangerine from the fruit bowl.
...
You talk too much
But maybe that's your way
Of breaking up the silence
That fills you up
But it doesn't sound the same
If no ones really listening