Now what?
Alfred wandered around the European homes, his mind reeling on what his next move should be. The rain was still pouring over him, but that wasn't anything new, considering he was now somewhere in Britain. The more his mind wandered, the deeper his rage became. The heavy downpour soaking into his bones, the way his one shoe sloshed against the pavement, that liar bastard brother of his. Even the chilling wind just kept reminding him of how angry he was. It wouldn't go away. He had to find some way to counter it. The universe had to be balances, but how? How could this much pain find a way to counter? One way he always practiced was to release it, but that didn't seem plausible now. Although, another possibility could be to create more pain. Make Matthew experience what he was going through. After all, he probably went back to that vodka chugging bastard, so why not?
The question now came back to who? Who hated Matthew enough to where it would hurt to see his brother with him? Pssht, that's a simple answer... no one. Alfred stopped in his tracks, eyes stuck to the ground. Matthew was perfect. He was the kind of person who would sit around musing on what a horrible person he was, just for forgetting to leave a tip. He would be the first to lend a hand before you even ask. He never made anyone angry. Never could make anyone hate him, even if he wanted to. That was his job.
Everyone hated Alfred. He couldn't think of a single person who didn't. Well... except for Matthew, and now even that was gone. A surge of hopelessness washed over him again, and Alfred had to fight the urge to drop to his knees. He was always grateful to his little brother. How he could finally have someone to open up to, and spill everything. Now he was forced to hold it in. Something he had lost practice with a long time ago, and all it did was build up pressure in his chest. Spreading the sharp prick out into billions of tiny needles, pressing into his skin. Apparently, yelling at Matthew did nothing to satisfy this. He didn't want to release it in anger. All that did was build it up more. He wanted someone to talk to. To vent. He wanted to cry, and just have someone hold him. Someone he knew wouldn't be sitting back, and biding their time before he was drained enough for them to slit his throat, or something.
Sure he was paranoid, but what did it matter? Too many times had he looked to see the arms holding him, also carried a knife. Too many times had he woken up just to have someone drive by and shoot him, as he was walking to work. Each time he had lulled himself into security. Thinking maybe he was finally secure, someone would always remind him that he was considered an enemy to the rest of the world. So he hardened. Cutting his ties to everything, that wasn't necessary, and keeping everyone else at arms length so they wouldn't know. No one should ever know when The United States of America was vulnerable. When he was sad, or tired, or even sore. No one but Canada. The one who always rushed in to clean off his wounds. The only one who would take his hand to pull him back up to his feet. Would stay by his bedside, when he was sick. Who had deceived him for five months as he fucked his most hated enemy. There was no way around it. All this time, they had been together and he had not even gotten a whiff of this. Some anchor he was. All those times he had confided in him. A very small part, in the back of his mind, suddenly started to make sense. Matthew was always too kind for his own good. Was it all an act, just to get him to let his guard down? Would he eventually rise up and try to kill him as well? He surely could cause him more pain than anyone else. Who better to assassinate someone than the one they trust.
Alfred sighed, his head falling further. He suddenly became aware that he was sitting on the ground, letting the rain drain over the back of his head. He didn't really believe that. It was just his paranoia trying to make everyone out to be a bad guy again. Everything had an ulterior motive. Believing that had kept him alive for this long, so why should he break it now.
But not Matthew. He wouldn't hurt him. No... he had.
ARGH!
Alfred pound his fists against his skull, dropping his head into his lap. Everything he thought he'd understood was suddenly blurring together. Nothing was making sense anymore. It was just pure bullshit.
"Alfred?"
Alfred's head snapped up. Shit! He was in the middle of England, sobbing brokenly at the foot of Big Ben. In his territory. Of course he would know he was here.
"Alfred, what's wrong?" Arthur knelt next to him, reaching a hand out. What might have been legitimate concern etched on his face, but who cared. He was always concerned for him, when he was little, but that was a ploy too. All Arthur wanted was to keep his obedient little colony forever. It was the only reason he ever coddled to him, and he wasn't going to put up with it again.
Alfred stood, smacking his hand away. "I'm fine." He growled, his eyes narrowing on this conniving invading monster. "I don't need any help from you." His voice dipped lower dripping with venom. "You were the first to betray me."
Arthur stared at him, wide eyed. Alfred seemed almost rabid. Why was he so angry? "Alfred? What happened?"
"Nothing!" Alfred bit back. "Nothing that concerns you."
"Alfred, please." Arthur inched cautiously closer. Kinda scared that he was going to spook his former son. "Just come with me to get out of the rain."
"No." He realized he was leaning against the clock tower, for support, and shoved off. There was no way he'd use any part of Britain for support. "I don't need your help."
"Don't be so stubborn." Arthur stepped closer into him, barely hiding the fear from the increased daggers glaring at him. "Just let me help you. You'll get sick if you stay out here." Alfred didn't seem to be reacting to Arthur's approach, until he touched him. Once the British nation laid a hand on his arm, Alfred snatched it away. His hand snapped to Arthur's neck, pinning him to the side of Big Ben. Arhur's eyes swam from the force knocked against the side of his head, the umbrella falling to the ground. By the time his vision cleared, Alfred's face was right in front of him. His eyes nearly glowing in his rage. "I don't need you." He growled in a voice that sent a chill up Arthur's spine. "I don't need help from anyone. Especially not you. So, just mind your own damn business, and stay the hell away from me." Alfred slammed his head back into the side of the clock tower, again, before letting go.
Arthur slumped to the ground, trying to catch his breath. A hand came up to his throat, coughing against the released tension. Alfred kicked the umbrella out of arms reach, and Arthur watched as he started off down the street. "Alfred." He gasped, trying to pull out the pressure still pushing against his throat. "What the hell happened to you?"
xXx
Ludwig was fishing through his closet, trying to pick out something to wear, when he heard a soft knock on his door. He groaned, making his way towards the door. "Who could possibly be-" His voice trailed off into shock, when he'd opened the door. Out of all the things that could be waiting on the other side of that door, he wasn't expecting to see Alfred. Especially not like this. The rain had passed through his country some time ago, only leaving clouds, and a soft wind, but evidently his friend hadn't been so lucky to avoid it. He was thoroughly soaked through, shivering slightly from the wind. His arms clung around him, and the most miserable expression he had ever seen draining his features. Also, he seemed to be missing a shoe. "What the hell?" He said softly, barely registering his slack-jawed expression.
"Ludwig." Alfred began, sounding as though he were horse. "Bist du mein Freund? Kann ich dir vertrauen?"
Ludwig's brain momentarily broke, but he shook his head together quick enough to register what was going on. "Ja, ja. Of course you can trust me." He stepped closer, cautiously touching his arm, and guided him in. Alfred's skin was clammy and cold. Almost like a wax doll, and it scared him to see the strongest nation in the world reverting to something resembling a stray puppy, stuck in the rain.
Alfred had been walking around, his mind still trying to pinpoint a destination. As hard as he tried, there didn't seem to be anyone he trusted enough to confide in. There was no way he'd go to Arthur or Francis. Elizaveta might have been ok, but he really didn't know her that well. Kiku was another option, though he was so emotionally distant, he doubted he could provide any real support. Plus... (Alfred's hand fell to the scar along his left side) Kiku had proven he was certainly capable of deceit, and hadn't really given him any means to think he wouldn't try again. Feliciano may be harmless enough, and might actually have some good advice, but he had a big mouth. There was no way he wanted to announce his condition to the world, and doubted his Italian friend could help with that. In fact, the only other one he knew was good with secrets (besides Matthew, of course) was Ludwig.
Alfred stropped in his paces, seriously considering this option. Lutz had done the whole take over thing, yes, but he had failed. Now, he was so guilt ridden that he'd never dare risk it again. He was pretty sure he and Ludwig were friends. He had been giving him German lessons, and seemed quite pleased with how well he was doing with the new language. Alfred brushed his face, settling on this being his best option, then turned his feet towards Germany.
"What are you doing out there, like this?" Ludwig asked. "Why are you here? What happened?"
Alfred shook his head, taking a step back. He rubbed at a chill in his arm. "I just needed someone to talk to."
Ludwig felt his own chill. This had to be the first time Alfred had ever appeared fragile before him. His voice was low, and shivering, and it was really terrifying. "What happened?"
It was almost like in slow motion as Alfred looked up at him. There was a spark in those deep blue eyes that seemed to be screaming. "Well, I-"
"Damn, Alfred. You look like a drowned rat." Gilbert chimed, sliding into the room. Evidently, he had heard the commotion but nothing more.
"Gilbert!" Ludwig growled in scorn to his brother, but Alfred had it covered. He turned a glare onto him, stating shortly. "A drowned rat who's been run over and left in the gutter to die. Get your metaphor right, Gil." A short warning. Just to say, I'm hurt, I'm vulnerable, but don't piss me off. I can still fuck you up.
Instantly, Gilbert's reaction mirrored his brother. "What the hell happened to you?"
Alfred looked over the red-eyed nation. He got along with Gilbert decently enough, but could he really trust him with this? Gilbert was technically a part of Ludwig now. Not really his own nation anymore. Gilbert was strong, but had no power. He wasn't a threat. Alfred sighed, and Gilbert felt his heart stop with the sudden change. He looked miserable before, but this was terrifying. "Mein Gott."
"Listen, Alfred." Ludwig stepped up, in front of his brother, and clamped Alfred on the shoulders. "Why don't you take a hot shower." He rubbed his chilled arms. "Warm yourself up a bit, and we can get you some dry clothes. Then you can tell us what's going on. Ok?" He managed to screw on a comforting smile. "We can't have you getting sick, now can we?"
Alfred nodded. "Yea, ok."
"Ok." Ludwig slid an arm around his shoulders and led him towards the bathroom. "Just take as long as you need." Once Alfred had closed the door, Ludwig spun around to see Gilbert staring wide eyed at him. "Was zum Teufel war denn das?"
Ludwig just shook his head, and walked past him. "I don't know. We'll find out, when he comes out."
xXx
"Feliciano." Ludwig sighed, settling down on his bed, holding the phone up to his ear. "Uh, ja, hi." A fleeting smile crossed his lips. "Listen, Feli." He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling a bit nervous. "I'm afraid I can't make our date, tonight."
There was a small whine, from the other end of the line, then a sweet voice asking, 'why?'
"I-uh-something's come up. I can't go into details, but I promise it's a good reason."
"Ok."
"What? You're ok with it?"
"Well, I'm sure whatever it is, has to be important. I know you'll make it up to me."
"Yea, I will." Ludwig smiled. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Ok. I hope it ends up ok."
"Ja." Ludwig sighed, his eyes flicking towards the bathroom, where the shower was still going. "Me too."
"Ciao."
"Tschüss." Ludwig smiled, hanging up the phone. His head fell, hands rubbing at the back of his neck.
Gilbert pushed off from where he was listening from the doorway. Sometimes his brother's hearts was just too big. He stepped up to the bathroom door, laying a pile of clothes outside, and knocked. "Your clothes are just out the door, Al." Gilbert started off, but when he realized Alfred hadn't responded, he knocked again. "Hey. You're not allowed to drown yourself, in my house."
"I'm not."
Even though his voice was still low, Gilbert couldn't help but laugh at how bluntly he responded. "Just keep it that way."
xXx
After a little over an hour and a half, and well into the cold water, Alfred finally emerged. He stayed in there for a while, after the water had stopped, and he'd retrieved the clothes, then emerged with a towel thrown over his wet hair. At least he was warmer, now.
"Hey, Al." Gilbert chimed, jumping off the couch and running over. He ruffled the towel, further drying his hair. "Feeling any better?"
Alfred shrugged. "I guess." He pushed the towel off his face, eying Gilbert. "Can I have a beer, Gil?"
"Uh." Gilbert exchanged an unsure look with Ludwig. "Ja, sure."
Without giving either of them the chance to do it for him, Alfred crossed to the cabinet and plucked one out. Almost like asking was just a small formality. He propped the cap on the edge of the counter, popped it off, and immediately started chugging.
Both of the Germanic nations suddenly became very nervous. They had gone drinking with Alfred before and knew all too well that he had a very low alcohol tolerance. Consuming their beer, this way, may not be a good thing.
"Um, Al." Gilbert made his way over, reaching for the beer. Alfred pulled it out of reach, holding a hand out to stop him. "I got it. It's fine." His throat started burning, making his eyes water. At least that was the reason he was going to stick to.
"I don't know if it's such a good idea, for you to be drinking like that."
"I just need it, ok?" Alfred croaked, some last bits of the alcohol still not wanting to go down. He stumbled a bit, dropping a hand onto the counter to stabilize himself. German beer was a lot stronger than he was used to, and it seemed to hit him very suddenly. "I'm not very articulate, and not yet sure if I can tell you or not. If I'm drunk, I can get it out."
Before he knew what had happened, he realize Ludwig was flanking him on the other side, holding the arm that had the beer. Alfred started to pull his arm out, but Ludwig held tight. "I'm not going to take it away from you." His other hand fell onto his shoulder. "I just need you to slow down a bit." He waited only briefly, for a response, before leading him away. "Why don't you just sit down."
"Ok." He allowed them to lead him to the couch, then changed his mind, ducking out of their arms. Without saying anything, he chugged the rest of the beer.
Ludwig snatched it from his lips, but it was already empty. By the time he looked to Alfred again, he had slumped to the ground, hanging his head so that his hair covered his face. "Did you guys know Matthew was seeing Ivan?"
They both froze, a big chunk of the puzzle clicking into place. Gilbert drew in a sharp breath. "Ouch."
Alfred looked up at them, tears in his eyes, and cried, "I know, right?"
He went on to explain to them what all had happened. What he saw, and how he reacted. The vicious looks Ivan gave him, and the sheer horror on his brother's face. Now that he'd found out their secret. He was pretty sure it was Ivan's fault they hadn't told him, but that didn't mean Mathew was completely innocent. He was alternating pacing the room, and sitting on the couch, as he went on to explain the argument he had with Matthew, in the park. All those horrible things he'd said to him. The horrible things he was disgusted to find he didn't want to take back. That strong desire to hurt him as much as he'd been hurt. He had migrated to retrieve another beer, but was drinking this one a lot more slowly. Barely having time to spare his lips, once he was on a role. Matthew was probably back with Ivan now, doing God knows what?
Both Ludwig and Gilbert highly doubted this, but Alfred wasn't listening. He already knew he wouldn't be, but it helped him to justify his continued rage. Alfred took a large swig of the beer again, as he sank down onto the couch between them. Gilbert slid the bottle, from his hand, but he didn't seem to notice this time. In fact, he was probably more ok with it, since his head fell into his hands. "I'm such a horrible brother." He sobbed, and both Ludwig and Germany rubbed a hand along his back, exchanging an unsure expression. "I should be happy with him finding someone, but I'm just angry. I'm hurt, and bitter, and pissed off, and I shouldn't be. He'd be happy for me. If I could just let go, then it'd be fine, but I can't." His hands slid up along his hairline, until his head was resting between his knees. "Why Mattie? Why did you have to do this to me?"
Neither of them really knew what to say. They both waited for him to continue, but the only thing he managed to come up with was, "I feel sick."
Gilbert snorted a laugh, snapping a hand to his mouth. He needed to stop that.
Ludwig slid to the edge of the couch, rolling his eyes at his brother. "When's the last time you ate anything?"
Alfred sniffed, shaking his head.
Ludwig rubbed a hand between Alfred's shoulder blades, glancing up at his brother, who had already begun to stand. "It's about dinner time, anyway. I'll make some Wurst."
Alfred looked up towards Gilbert heading for the kitchen. "I like Wurst." He stated hopefully, apparently missing that the offer was for him. Gilbert just laughed at him. "If there's any left."
Ludwig urged Alfred to sit up, sliding an arm around his shoulder and pulled him closer. "Listen to me, now. Being angry does not make you a bad brother. Brothers fight. That's just how things work."
They both glanced up at hearing Gilbert laughing again.
Alfred sighed, letting his head fall onto Ludwig's shoulder. "It's not that simple."
"It just seems to me, like the full story isn't out yet." He squeezed him tight, as Alfred's head turned into him. "What you two need to do is give yourself some time to calm down, then talk this out."
"Yea." Gilbert called back, from stirring the boiling pot, waving a large wooden spoon back at them. "I don't think there's a power in the verse that can keep you and Mattie apart."
"I know." Alfred curled up further, his legs sliding onto Ludwig's lap, making the German nation a bit nervous. He patted Alfred's shoulder, reminding himself that he was just trying to seek some kind of comfort. "I just don't think I can look at him now, without thinking about what he's done." He sniffed, wiping his nose. "I mean, why did it have to be Ivan? Francis, Lars, almost anyone else would have been better." He threw an arm out towards their chef. "I'd even be ok with Gilbert over there."
Gilbert beamed, glancing back at him. "Would ya now?"
"Yea, sure." Alfred flashed him a small smile, raising a thumb to him. "You're awesome dude. I'd love ta have you as a brother."
"But would Mattie go for it?"
Alfred slumped back again, his head pushing into Ludwig's shoulder. "He had a thing for ya, at one point."
"Damn." Gilbert scoffed, turning back to his work. "Where was I, at this point?"
Alfred shrugged. "Europe?"
All three of them laughed, but Alfred was the first to fade off, curling up more into Ludwig.
xXx
A few hours had passed and Alfred had now passed out, asleep in Ludwig's bed. None of them were surprised. It had to be about two-six am, in his territory. He was distressed, got caught in the rain for God knows how long, and had a pretty thorough buzz going. The boy had earned a rest. At least something resembling it.
Gilbert found he was watching him sleep. Curled up, his face buried into the sheets as he sobbed lightly, in his sleep. There was a very strange ping coating his brain. Gilbert had gotten on decently well with Alfred, but did find him really annoying. To the point where he should be teasing him mercilessly for crying. However, seeing it now, he didn't have the heart to. Something about Alfred being so miserable just kicked started his big brother tendency, and he just wanted to protect him. To the point where he was starting to hate Matthew. He adored Matthew. He'd never been angry with him over anything, but he knew he was the reason Alfred was in pain, right now. It was his fault his new surrogate brother was laying in his real brother's bed, crying himself to sleep.
Gilbert was more surprised at himself for sitting down on the bed, tracing a hand through Alfred's hair. The sight of this was still taking some getting used to. He knew, all too well, that even the strongest beings sometimes needed some kind of anchor. He just never realized how fragile Alfred was without his. The phone in Gilbert's pocket suddenly vibrated, startling him. He fished it out to see who was calling, his breath catching in his throat, at the name.
Alfred moaned softly, bunching the blankets into his arm.
Gilbert gave him one more pat on the shoulder, before leaving the room to answer. "Beilschmidt ." He gritted his teeth to keep from snapping at the caller.
"Gilbert. It's Matt. Have you seen Alfred anywhere?"
He drew in a slow breath, wishing to scream for him to stay the hell away from his new baby brother, but that would clue him in that he was there. Instead, he pushed down his rage, and spoke as calmly as he could. "No. I haven't. But you sound upset. Has something happened?" Knowing that Matthew would tell him, and hoping to fill out both sides for a clearer picture.
Matthew's increasing silence made him nervous. Was he really going to stay quiet about it, or was he just trying to figure out how to say it, like his brother had? Maybe he didn't think it was any of his business.
"I messed up." Matthew started softly, a slight sob to his voice. "I did something bad, and now Alfred's mad at him. I've been calling around for hours, looking for him." He sniffed, his voice clearing up a bit. "When I got in touch with Arthur, he said it looked as though he were heading your way, are you sure you haven't seen him." Matthew finished breathlessly, his desperation evident.
Gilbert felt his heart melt further. Mattie was hurting too. He couldn't stay mad at him... but he admitted it was his fault. He had a right to be mad, and yet... should he tell him Alfred was there? He just wasn't sure anymore.
"Gilbert?"
Gilbert tried to speak, but nothing wanted to come out, until he heard Alfred. Just a soft sob from the other room. "Mattie... come back."
Gilbert drew in a deep breath, trying to push down the spark in his chest. He licked his dry lips, and sighed. "He's here."
"What?" Matthew cried, choking on his relief.
"He stopped by a few hours ago, and told us what happened."
Gilbert could almost hear the color drain from Matthew's face. "Did he?"
"He did." Gilbert explained to him the state of his brother's arrival, and everything he had told them. Even about how guilt ridden he was from yelling at him. When Matthew didn't respond, Gilbert became a bit nervous about what might be going through his head.
"Thank you, Gilbert." His voice was so small that he barely registered he had spoken.
"Um. I uh... huh?"
Matthew let out a soft sigh. "I can understand if he doesn't want to see me. I just need to make sure he's ok."
Gilbert glanced back to Alfred who was now possibly clinging to his knees under the blankets he had cocoon himself with. He contemplated the pros and cons of his next option. Finally, he sighed, wrenching his burning eyes away from Alfred. "I don't think he wants to see you... but I know he needs to."
xXx
Alfred's mind had been wandering through some very strange places compiled of Gilbert hunting down his brother, because he was doing something. He really wasn't sure what, but Gilbert seemed to be pissed. Then again, he tried not to focus on it too hard. The only thing that was clear was that every time he tried to catch Matthew, he'd just run out of reach, and laugh. Laugh at his misery and desperation and how frustrated he was that he couldn't catch him. "MATTIE!" He called desperately, as he kept tripping over a noose around his legs. "Come back!"
But Matthew just grinned at him, and skipped away. "Later, Al."
"What? No." He winced, one hand clutching a knot in his stomach, the other reaching out to his twin, who seemed to be moving away far faster than he should be. "Where are you going? Don't leave me."
"Alfred."
"Please, Mattie." He vaguely became aware of a hand resting against his head, but didn't really care who or what it was. Instead, he crawled towards Matthew, whimpering. "I need you."
"I'm right here, Al." The voice spoke softly, tinged with sympathy.
"Huh?" Alfed's entire body started to feel warmer. Even his face, until he looked up to try and focus on the figure next to him. "But." His fists curled around a chunk of soft fabric, staring up at his twin long before he even realized he was there. "Mattie?"
Matthew smiled, continuing to push those few stubborn hairs out of his face. "Hi, Al." He had so many things he wanted to say, but held them back. His brother was fragile right now, and anything could set him off again.
Alfred's entire body felt like he was soaking in water. His skin seemed to ripple in waves, and he felt really light headed. It had to be the alcohol. He sniffed, bunching the blankets under his nose, tears falling from his eyes. "Mattie, you lied to me."
"I know." Matthew sighed, failing to hold back his own tears. "And I know nothing I say can make up for that. Just please understand, I never wanted to hurt you." He slid down until he was laying down, face to face with Alfred, his hand now falling to his neck. "I'd do anything to make you happy. You mean more to me than anything else, in this world."
"More than Ivan?"
Matthew felt his chest contract. It was difficult to compare the two, but he still knew the answer. He brushed a thumb under Alfred's eye, trying to wipe away the tears. "Of course."
Alfred sat up, suddenly not wanting to be that close to him. "Then why did you-"
"Shh." Matthew sat up too, holding a hand up to him, and shook his head. It was a risky move. Sure he didn't want Alfred to get worked up, but it also wasn't a very good idea to interrupt him. It typically made him pen it up. "I screwed up." Matthew spoke very softly, trying to negate any hostilities that may have wanted to spark. "So many times, I wanted to tell you, but it just got harder." He could see the crease forming between his brother's brow, and the quickness of his breathing. Although, he wasn't sure if it were anger, or if he was just trying not to cry again. "I know that's no excuse, and I'd take it all back, if I could. All I want now is to beg for your forgiveness."
The crease curved a bit, as if not sure if it wanted to portray anger or sorrow. Alfred tried to speak, but nothing came out until he had cleared his throat. "Is there anything else?"
"Huh?"
"Any other secrets." Alfred spat, the rage sparking momentarily. "I mean, if you lied about this, how do I know there isn't anything else?"
Matthew shook his head. "There's not. I swear." Matthew's hands traced up Alfred's arm, slowly pulling him into his arms, expecting him to push away at any second. "As hard as it is to tell you some things, it hurts far worse not to."
There was a tension in his muscles that made Matthew nervous. At any point Alfred was going to shove him and start yelling at him again. He shouldn't want him to hold him, and frankly, he couldn't blame him. Matthew knew he'd do the same.
But his fears were alleviated as Alfred's arms wrapped around his waist, resting his head against his chest. The position was a bit unstable, so Matthew pulled them both to lay down on the bed, and Alfred clung closer to him, sobbing harder. Matthew crooned softly, stroking his head. He hated it when his brother cried... even more so to know it was his fault, and was failing at holding back his own tears. He kissed the top of his hair, wishing for the pain in his own chest to subside. It doesn't help to try and help someone, when you can't deal with your own issues.
"Do you really love him?" Alfred asked, after a long silence.
Matthew's breath hitched, at the question. He knew Alfred needed some kind of closure about this, but he really didn't want to talk about it, right now.
Finally, Alfred lifted his head to look up at him. "Mattie?"
Matthew brushed a hand over his brother's cheek again, smiling timidly. "I'm happy with him." The drain in Alfred's expression was immediate, and Matthew quickly reacted to try and counter it. "The past few years have really mellowed him out, and I'd like to try and make peace between you two." Alfred scoffed, hiding his head in his chest again. Matthew held him tighter, rubbing a hand against his back. "I don't want you to hate him, if we're going to be together."
Alfred was quiet for a bit, and Matthew started to wonder if he should continue. Just when he was about to say something, Alfred spoke up again. "I don't want to hinder you... I'm just scared."
"Scared of what?"
"I know you're going to see other people, but I know how everyone feels about me. That they may try to keep you away from me." His voice was low, as though it may hurt him to talk any louder.
"If that were to happen, then I wouldn't stay with them. I wouldn't allow it."
Alfred sniffed, wiping his nose. "I also don't trust any of them with you." Matthew had to hold a bit before he elaborated, since his breathing had hardened. "I hear the way they talk about you. They seem to think of you as a mini-Francis and don't seem to care about you. Just how good you are." He clung tighter to Matthew, feeling his heart going a mile a minute. "And I hate to imagine anyone thinking of you that way. You have so much more to offer than just that, and I just..." He broke off sobbing harder. "It hurts too much, and all I want is to make sure you don't end up with someone like that, but you don't even seem to care."
Matthew drew him further into his arms. "What do you mean, I don't care?"
Alfred took a deep breath, trying to steady himself, but once he started talking, it didn't help. "Every time I hook up with someone, I'm always worried about whether or not you'll like them, but that doesn't seem to work both ways. You always do whatever, and it just feels like you ride off my opinions as just some petty cling, just like everyone else." He stopped briefly, to try and catch his breath, and Matthew cradled his head, his face pressing into the top of Alfred's head, tears pricking his eyes. "no."
"It shouldn't matter, if you think it's petty or not. It's important to me, and I don't want you doing it."
Matthew shushed him softly, stroking his hair as Alfred's voice was lost in his tears again. "Of course it's important. Your opinion always matters, to me. I just never knew you felt so strongly about this. Why didn't you tell me?"
"I don't know." Alfred cried, his voice a bit louder now. "Every time I tell anyone anything, they always think I'm just being selfish, and over-reacting." His voice dipped quieter. "I'm not."
"I never think you're over-reacting." Matthew retaliated, kissing the top of his head. "If you're upset, I want to know."
Alfred glanced up at him. "So, you think I'm selfish?"
"What? Uh, well... no. Not really."
"Yea I am." He stated, matter-of-factually, laying his head against Matthew's chest again. "I'm just confused and annoyed and scared and it makes me selfish, where a good brother should just be happy for you."
Matthew rolled the words around in his head, trying to land on something to say, but he couldn't. He could tell him that he didn't think that made him selfish, but there seemed to be an underlying meaning to Alfred's words, that made him confused as to how to respond. However, if Alfred wanted to be happy for him... "Do you think you can give Ivan a chance?"
Alfred let out an odd noise that could be some kind of angry whimper. Matthew drew him tighter again, a hand coming up around his head. "I want you to be happy for us, Al." He spoke gently, trying to pick his words and tone carefully. There was a potential for accusation here, and Matthew didn't want to convey that sentiment. "If we stay together, can you try to accept Ivan... for me?"
It took Alfred a bit to process the request. His first instinct was to just tell him yes, and push his own needs down. Bite his tongue any time he saw them together, and hold back his opinions, for the sake of his brother's happiness, but something kept telling him it wasn't a good idea, right now. They had just gone on a spiel of how they kept secrets from each other, and he knew it wouldn't be good to hold it back. There was a risk for repeating their current situation. Plus, he was still a bit buzzed, and lying just wasn't a side-effect of this state. Finally Alfred glanced up at him, tears sparking in his eyes again, and shook his head. "I'd like to say yes, but I don't think I can."
Matthew's expression melted a bit. This wasn't something he had expected.
Tears traced down Alfred's face again. "I'm sorry, Mattie. I just can't. It's too hard for me to stay quiet."
As much as this statement hurt, Matthew still brushed the tears from his twin's face. At least he told him.
To be honest, Alfred's selfish desires were slightly justified. At least to himself. He'd always wanted to protect his little brother. Even when they were forced to fight on opposite sides, they still spent most of it holding each other. Trying to alleviate any pains the other may have felt from the attacks. When they were finally able to be together, without any other interference, it was good just to have such a close support, but in recent times, it seemed the closeness was changing. It was growing to a state where Matthew was the only one he ever wanted near him. Any time they were together, any time he held him, Alfred's heart started beating faster. Even if they were just holding hands. Too often, certain problems arose. Normally, with such problems, Alfred would shove them away... if it were anyone else. There was the urge, but a rather twisted part of him liked that it was Matthew.
So many times, even now, Alfred was swept up with a strong desire to kiss him. This thought only sparked up that selfishness again. He knew, that if he did, Matthew would belong to him, and only him. This much was certain, but the emotions behind it were still unsure. He knew he loved Matthew, but what if something went wrong? What if this was just a fleeting emotion, and he just couldn't see it? Matthew wasn't just his brother, he was his best friend, and he hated the thought of ever hurting him. What if something horrible happened, and they broke up? Could he really risk losing him, that way? Alfred had never had much success with relationships, and maybe that was the only bases for this fear, but a very quiet voice just kept reminding him that they'd be good together. Don't let this fear hold you back from something that could really be great... because the alternative was just as painful.
Alfred's eyes closed, head feeling hazed, his body numb from the rabid beating of his heart. Could he withstand wondering what if, as he watched him with others? Sitting back on the side-lines, and holding down the longing. Knowing that the slightest slip-up, of this shield, will only burden his beloved Matthew as well. Though there was still the doubt of losing the longing. If it doesn't happen, will the pain subside? Is it only because of recent events that the desire was suddenly so strong?
Alfred opened his eyes, resting a hand on the side of Matthew's neck. Wait a minute... when did he get so close? Why were Matthew's eyes so wide? What was this pressure on his lips? Had he actually?... Oh God! He was! Alfred pulled back, and he knew he looked startled as well. His breathing kicked up, and he was shaking. Why did he do that? How could he be so stupid? Why the hell did he have to kiss him? He couldn't even sort out his own emotions, how could he possibly be stupid enough to clue Matthew into it, in this early stage!? Alfred's shock, and self-rage drew tears from his eyes again, and Matthew's shock melted into what must be understanding. He wrapped his arms around his brother, drawing him closer. Alfred clung tightly, sobbing into the side of his neck.
Matthew was holding him again. Comforting him, but did he really understand why he was upset? Did he know that .85% chance they would end up together was increasing? Alfred F Jones was falling in love with Matthew Williams... and he was terrified.
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AN: *sigh* Poor Alfred. Love is so hard, sometimes. Though, to be honest, the main thing that made this awesome was Prussia goin into big brother mode, but my brain was a bitch and woke me up around the time he finally conceded and told Mattie Alfred needed him. What a douche.
On a slightly more amusing note, when I had this dream I was sharing a bed with our Germany, who is actually united Germany (cause she has what we've dubbed "Prussia moments") and I was very tempted to cuddle her and tell her about my dream.
