Hey, everyone! Was delighted by the initial response to this story...I really, really hope you continue to enjoy it! Next chapter things heat up and move much more quickly, though it might shift POVs. Don't worry, we'll see some more chibi Alfred and Ivan in a bit, but all of this stuff is important. (Including fluff).

~*oOo*~

Chapter Two: The World Ends With You

His drawings shifted from doodles of castles and queens and fairies and enchanted creatures to Arthur carrying Alfred, playing with Alfred, reading with Alfred. Matthew was occasionally scribbled into Arthur's doodles, but mostly they were just dominated by Alfred.

"You've got a real brother complex, don't you dear?" asked his teacher teasingly when Arthur reiterated the story where he'd successfully changed Matthew's diaper for the third time. "I hope you don't change your tune when they get older. My little sisters drove me up the wall growing up."

The little boy had just harrumphed and went back to his drawing, offended at the very notion. There wasn't a more diligent or loving older sibling than Arthur. He knew it himself, would have known it without the dozens of people telling him.

Arthur went from a child who had spent nights dreading the moment he was to be accosted by two drooling, diaper-clad bullies to a protective and fussy older brother who often tip-toed into the sleeping twins' room to check on them. He insisted on holding his brothers as often as possible—particularly Alfred—and he pushed the stroller as best as he could when the family went on walks, though he was hardly tall enough to see over it on tiptoe.

When one or both of the babies cried at night, Arthur was typically the first one up, much to his parents' annoyance and his teacher's chagrin (Arthur began falling asleep in class shortly after his brothers were born). There wasn't much he believed he could not do for his brothers, and he got irritated at his parents very quickly for not letting him do more. They moved sluggishly, didn't get the job done quickly enough. Arthur liked his days to run on schedule, whereas his parents were content to wait minutes before going to comfort his crying brothers!

"Artie, just give him a moment," said his mother gently as Arthur anxiously bent over a crying Alfred in his crib. "He's just being a little fussy. Al will be asleep in a sec."

Arthur shot his mother an affronted look and proceeded to pull the baby out of his crib, rubbing his back soothingly. His parents were kind, but couldn't be trusted to do anything right. It was a good thing that they had Arthur, because they very clearly needed him.

The idea of schoolyard bullies approaching his brothers on the playground made his blood boil and his teeth clench with rage, even as he watched the little ones roll about on a blanket. Let someone try. He had made a wand out of an old stick he'd found and kept it hidden underneath his pillow, ready to jinx the jelly out of any prowler that came into the house. He tried asking his father where he kept the guns, but his father refused to dignify that with a response, so Arthur chanted spells underneath his breath every night, mostly borrowing them from Harry Potter.

He was forever dragging out a napkin to wipe at the twins' messy faces, and often spat on the corner of one if he thought they needed tidying, which was often in Alfred's case. To his mother's puzzlement, she sometimes walked into the babies' room to find Arthur picking out their clothes for the day. Mr. Jones called Arthur his "trusty fetching friend" because the child was the first to run for a thermometer or a bottle when the children began to so much as tear up.

Now people on the street, in the supermarket, in the department store—were stopping to bend over the cute little boys in their stroller. Alfred was a giggly, social baby who liked to laugh at everything, whereas Matthew was more likely to shrink inside his blankets, peek up at you, and smile timidly. Both traits seemed equally endearing, and little crowds would appear when the Jones went out in public, much to Arthur's horror. The little boy would insistently pull at his parents' hands whenever he felt someone had ogled his brothers for too long.

"Artie, there's no need to be jealous," his father had told his eldest son sternly as the Jones walked out of a grocery store one day.

Artie had only raised a thick eyebrow. "I'm not jealous."

"Then why did you have to be so short with that nice saleswoman?"

"I'm not short!"

"That wasn't what I—oh, for Pete's sake, Arthur, the point is that you don't have to feel jealous because your brothers just happen to be cute! You had lines of people wanting to cuddle ya when you were small," he lied, approaching their car and carefully strapping in Matthew's car seat.

Arthur pouted as he tried to strap in Alfred—he felt he did a better job—only to have his frowning father scoop Alfred's carrier away from him. "You're much too little to be carrying that and Alfred too."

He was not! Arthur unhappily got into the car, crossing his arms and scowling darkly. The little boy preened inwardly when people praised his brothers on looking so healthy, but it just got annoying when they bit into the twins' precious schedule; his precious schedule! It was far too intrusive for strangers to strike up conversations while cooing at his brothers when that was Arthur's job to adore them, to adore Alfred. Why didn't his father understand that? So what if he often made pointed comments about the nosy weirdoes having contagious germs? They probably did!

Once, when a neighbor couldn't seem to stop squealing over the sleeping infants, Arthur had angrily threw the blankets over the twins, blocking them from sight.

"I swear, I don't know where he gets it from," apologized his mother, uncovering the babies and casting her eldest son a stern look. "It's like he thinks that they're HIS babies."

Weren't they? Arthur had been shaken to think otherwise.

~*oOo*~

When the twins were a few months old, they started teething. The next few weeks for the Jones had been nightmarish, what with the nearly non-stop crying. Matthew wept piteously and often; Alfred was a little easier to calm down, but he had a loud wail that was almost impossible to shut off until he'd exhausted himself. It wasn't uncommon for Arthur to leave the house in the morning with both babies screaming and to return to yet more tears.

One day, Arthur came home to find his mother crying with them. Matthew was sobbing into her neck, while Alfred wailed in his crib.

"I don't know what to do," Mrs. Jones had sobbed. "If I could just get one to be quiet a moment—"

Arthur had said nothing, but had awkwardly scooped up Alfred (He was getting heavier), and half-carried him, half dragged him to his room. Mrs. Jones was too tired and too frazzled to care, still dealing with Matthew's crying. She knew from experience that Matthew would cry more if no one was holding him.

A moment later, one of Arthur's audio books began playing, and Mrs. Jones buried her face in her hand as Matthew continued to cry. It was a few minutes before she realized that Alfred's sobs had died away.

It took maybe fifteen minutes, but at last Matthew quieted down, calmer without the cries of his brother egging him on. Arms shaking with fatigue, Mrs. Jones tucked the dozing baby in a nearby playpen and went to check on her other boys.

When she opened Arthur's door, she discovered that Arthur had snuggled up with the baby (Arthur never snuggled up with anything but his plush animals), who was sucking on Arthur's finger like he would a pacifier. Arthur was animatedly chatting to him.

"-that's kind of gross, but it's alright, my teacher says that it helps the pressure in your gums. It must hurt, having teeth grow in. But you'll need them if you want to eat my food one day. When you get all your teeth, I'll feed you a berry scone."

Arthur hummed and kissed Alfred on the forehead, who was still happily sucking on Arthur's pinkie. The older brother chuckled like an indulging father and teasingly asked: "Does that taste good? You're strange, Alfred. I hope you're paying attention to the story. Isn't it neat that people can read stories to you and they don't even have to be in the same room with you? But I'll read books to you in the room tonight, if you're good and don't cry too much."

He paused, then leaned in to whisper into Alfred's ear: "I'll probably read stories to you even if you DO cry, but don't tell anyone."

Alfred hiccupped, burped, and smiled. Arthur's eyes were glittering like two emeralds.

"Say 'excuse me,' Alfred. Can you say that? Mmm?" He patted Alfred's hair adoringly and cuddled him.

Mrs. Jones doubted she had ever seen her son so entranced, so glowing with contentment. Alfred smiled absently, little hands on Arthur's wrist as he gummed the finger, relieving the pain in his swollen gums.

"That's right, you're a good boy, aren't you? Aren't you? You should say 'Yes, Arthur.' Let's practice. Y-E-S-"

Knowing Arthur would be embarrassed to be seen using baby talk, Mrs. Jones retreated, smiling wanly. 'All sets of twins ought to come with an Arthur,' she thought happily as she headed down the stairs, listening to Arthur's horrible singing. Thankfully, it didn't seem to both Alfred, who stayed blissfully quiet.

A few months later, when Alfred and Matthew were almost a year old, Matthew said his first word—'Mama,'—and a few days later, Alfred came up with 'Arfur.' Arthur had been so touched with joy that he told every kid in the neighborhood about it. He'd bragged to poor Francis so often that the little boy had at last threatened to whack Arthur upside the head with a croquet mallet if he didn't knock it off.

Soon, Alfred and Matthew had turned one, and were curiously looking down at their birthday cake. Matthew sniffed at it wonderingly while Alfred had let out a joyful squawk, and proceeded to bury his face into it. Arthur was aghast when his laughing parents told him to leave Alfred be for a moment, and let him enjoy himself. The disgruntled five year old did not understand.

~*oOo*~

Matthew was an easy-going, quiet little boy who liked to stay in his usual corner and play with his teddy bear, or sit on his father's lap while the man watched hockey games. Alfred, however, toddled anyplace he could, getting into everything. Arthur was soon scurrying after him to keep up, squawking like an indignant mother hen.

Much to Arthur's dismay, Alfred positively adored mess and mischief, and more so for both combined. The boy could not be deterred from a jar of jelly, paint, or a mud puddle to save his life. The noisier he could be, the better, and people four houses down the street were typically well-aware when Alfred was playing outside.

Matthew was a fairly willing participant in Arthur's tea parties, whereas Alfred would get bored and run off before Arthur was finished introducing him to Lord Mint Bunny the III and his lovely wife Lady McFlopsyBunny. Arthur thrived on punctuality and cleanliness—Alfred was dressed in a raincoat before he was allowed to try blackberry pie. Arthur was forever lecturing Alfred, who forever took it in stride, cheerfully ignoring Arthur as he had more and more misadventures.

It pained Arthur when Alfred would drag Matthew along into one of his schemes instead of his big brother. He knew why of course; Arthur was the responsible tattletale, whereas Alfred could talk Matthew into almost anything, which was one of the many reasons Alfred loved his twin so much. Arthur was the protector, the worrier, but sometimes, he couldn't help but feel a little left out of the twins' antics, which confused him. He didn't have very many friends at school, but that was fine by him, because that was just the sort of person Arthur was, plain and simple.

He found himself relieved when Alfred would run to him when scared or sad or in trouble. It made Arthur tremendously happy, the way Alfred would look up at him with those trusting eyes and that sweet, childish sense that Arthur could handle anything. It made him feel like a mountain, capable of doing anything.

And he would do anything for Alfred. When the brothers played knights (Matthew was usually the damsel in distress, much to his chagrin), Arthur was King Arthur, the noble and magnificent king who defended Alfred against the dragon, which just so happened to be the family cat.

Kids at school gave him a funny look when he claimed that his brother was his best friend, but Alfred was Arthur's favorite person. He loved Matthew too of course, but Alfred was half the sky.

When the twins were three and Arthur was seven, they went off to nursery school for the first time. Arthur had hemmed and hawed over the twins' appearances, trying to hide the fact that he felt sick with anxiety.

"I don't wanna go! Don't wanna go!" Matthew had cried, clinging hopefully to Arthur's shirt."Can't we go with you?"

Arthur felt a lump rise in his throat when Alfred grabbed him too, looking for all the world like a lost puppy.

"N-now, you'll have lots of fun—"

"But what if we don't? I want Daddy! I want Mommy!"

Shaking them off when his bus had come had made him absolutely miserable, and he'd waved to his little brothers for as long as he could from the window. Matthew had his face buried in Alfred's shirt and Alfred had tried to put up a brave front, but he'd obviously been scared silly. However, he'd looked slightly relieved when he'd glanced over at another child at the bus stop, whose face was buried in the skirts of a young teenage girl.

Blinking in confusion at the sudden wave of irritation that had washed over him, Arthur had settled back in his seat and told himself that the queasiness in his stomach was just due to his own nerves.

~*oOo*~

Arthur had worried about them both all through school, and dashed off the bus when the time finally came to come home. He'd all but burst through the front door, expecting tears and hysterics, only to find his two little brothers enjoying their snack at the table, chatting cheerfully about their day.

"It wasn't bad at all," Alfred had boasted while the twins ate their graham crackers. "Matthew cried at first, but then he started playing with this one loud kid, and I found this other kid who was really really nice! I like him a lot!"

Arthur had smiled, but still felt something in his stomach twist. "Oh really? What was his name?"

"Ivan. I forget his last name. It was weird and long and not easy like Jones. He cried a lot when his sister tried to go, so I held his and Mattie's hands and sat with him on the bus! You were right Arthur—it DOES bump a lot more in the back! Me and Ivan are gonna sit there from now on, cause it's fun!

"When we got there, Ivan drawed a picture of his family, and I drawed one too, then we learned everyone's names. I forget most of them, but I learned 'Mattie' cause he's my brother, and I learned 'Ivan!' Guess what? He learned me, too!"

"You mean he learned your name," corrected Arthur, reaching for an apple. He found he wasn't really very hungry anymore, so he put it back. Alfred went on, his words an excitable mess.

"We ate snack, then we learned numbers, and shapes, which were easy! Ivan can even say 'octa-ooto…o-octagon!' He knows what an octagon is, Artie!" Alfred had hopped up and down in his seat, as if this fact gave Ivan celebrity status. Arthur sneered as he sat down at his place next to their mother.

"So?" Alfred just gave him an exasperated look before going on, chugging half his glass of milk down to fortify himself. Gasping, scrubbing half-heartedly at his milk mustache, he'd gone on:

"Guess what? Ivan likes Space Avengers too, so we played space, then, when Mattie went off to play with that big kid whose name I don't know, I played with Ivan more and it was a lot of fun! We made a mountain of sand and went to Mars and everything! I think we're friends."

Matthew nodded cheerfully, his mouth full of graham cracker. Arthur seized Alfred's face and tried to wipe the mess away, but the little boy had just leaned away with a moan. "Arrrttttiiiiiiieeee, stop doooiiinnnggg that!"

Arthur reared back as if he'd been slapped, face set in an ugly grimace.

"Glad to see that you and your baby friends had fun in your baby school," Arthur had said snidely, regretting it immediately when Alfred started to cry. Upon seeing his twin cry, Matthew started crying too, getting crumbs all over his front.

Their mother sent Arthur upstairs.

He'd stomped all the way up, slammed his door shut, then opened it again and slammed it once more for good measure, and tossed down his book bag before he threw himself on his bed, and began to cry wet, angry tears into his pillow.

~*oOo*~

Later that night, it started to storm, and thunder boomed outside. Matthew was tuckered out from his long day of running around the playground and didn't notice, so he slept easily.

But Alfred, who was terrified of thunder, raced out of bed past his parents' room to Arthur's, scrambling into bed with a distraught whimper. Arthur lay still, feeling ready to cry again. He'd waited for the sound of Alfred's little feet, but he didn't think he'd actually come. He felt giddy with relief.

"Are you okay?" Arthur whispered as Alfred flung his arms around him. "I'm sorry I said the thing about the baby school—"

"That wasn't nice," sniffed Alfred, tears racing down his face, on Arthur's skin. Arthur squeezed his hand.

"I'm sorry. I just had a bad day. I'm still your King Arthur, right?"

"….yeah," said Alfred with a sigh, cringing as thunder roared outside. He squeaked and retreated closer to Arthur, who held his little brother tightly. Arthur smiled in the dark.

"I'm your King Arthur. I won't let Lancelot get hurt by lightning. I'll protect you with my magic. Nothing will ever hurt you if you're with me, Alfred."

"Never?"

"Never."

He felt Alfred relax beside him, and his heart broke a little, though he wasn't sure why.

"….I'm still your friend, right Alfred?" He couldn't quite keep the anxiety out of his voice.

Alfred smiles sleepily. "Yeah. You and Mattie and Ivan. All friends."

"But I'm your best, right?"

"Course. I love you, Arthur."

Arthur glowed. "That's good. You can go to sleep, now."

All was right with the world.

Or so it was, until Mr. and Mrs. Jones' car tumbled into the ravine.

~*oOo*~

Yeah. *Gulps* Sadly necessary for the story, but still...

Will be testing for a little while and probably won't update quite so fast-but PLEASE review! *Puppy eyes*