Notes: As I promised, the third chapter is here! Thanks to the people who favourited/followed this, and a very special thanks to those who commented! I hope that somebody is interested…
No particular warnings this time, except for the fact that English is still not my first language. I hope you'll enjoy this!
Chapter 3
Maggie felt like an eternity has passed by the time she managed to stifle her sobs.
When her breathing finally regained a regular pattern, she was feeling worn out and numb, her head was throbbing, and when she raised her eyes the girl who looked back from the mirror had a tired, pasty face that made her puffy eyes and red lips stand out even more.
Maggie wanted nothing more than curl up on the bed and sink into oblivion, but she knew that she couldn't afford it. Using every inch of her will, she managed to drag herself to the bathroom and washed her face with cold water until the reflection on the mirror showed a girl that looked still worn out and pathetic, but not like she had just wept her heart out. Not the best, but a considerable improvement nonetheless.
'Stop thinking. Just… don't think about anything. There are other things you need to do now, focus on that and stop thinking.'
For a starter, Maggie absolutely needed to go buy some food, and then she would have to cook dinner, so she had better hurry. Steve was going to be tired after an entire day of work, at least an edible meal would improve his mood.
Trying to keep her mind on the most compelling issues, Maggie mechanically took some money from the drawer in the hall, put on her coat and finally got out, stubbornly ignoring a slight feeling of nausea that was starting to settle at the pit of her stomach.
The grocery store she was looking for (that was supposed to be the cheapest around) was about half an hour from her home, and Maggie usually wouldn't have minded the walk – she liked walking, and even if the streets basked in the glow of the late afternoon sun weren't even remotely comparable to Canadian woods it was still calming – but at that moment, she was finding it really difficult to pay any attention to her surroundings. Each step she took was like running a marathon, her legs felt weak and heavy, unsteady, her chest was tight.
To make matters worse, the nausea was steadily increasing, now the girl could feel the bile rise to the back of her throat, that was painfully dry. Maggie stopped walking, pressing a hand against her stomach as she forced herself to take a deep breath. It did nothing to quell the ill feeling, if anything, it was growing more and more intense with each passing moment.
'Oh, God… Would anybody notice if I threw up in a trash can?'
They certainly would. And they would judge her harshly, too – Maggie could almost see that young mother who had just passed her shake her head, muttering through pursed lips about degenerate teens already drunk in the afternoon – but it didn't look like there was any alternative.
The girl started looking around, trying to locate a trash can (possibly, not the one next to the ice-cream parlour, people ate there, she didn't want to make anybody else sick…), a task that turned out to be surprisingly difficult, everything looked a bit hazy around her…
Only when a car passed a few inches from her, not making as much noise as it should have, Maggie finally registered the faint buzzing that had started dulling her hearing and realized what was actually happening.
'Oh maple…'
When was the last time she had eaten? …The previous day? …earlier?
Maggie's sluggish mind couldn't recall it, but certainly, too much time had passed since then, and her body had already passed the stage where sitting down for a few moments would help.
'Sugar. I just need to get something with sugar.'
The thought made her stomach flip, but Maggie knew that the nausea wasn't real. She started heading towards the direction of the ice-cream parlour, gritting her teeth when her legs wobbled. She could manage it. She had to.
"Hey, Maggie?"
The girl halted and whirled around.
"Alfred?"
No, she hadn't just imagined it. The boy was in front of her, much closer than his faint voice would have suggested, his blue eyes slightly widened and his eyebrows raised in surprise.
"Hey, I wasn't expecting to see you around! Where are you going?" he asked with curiosity.
"Eh… I have to shop for groceries, but I saw the ice-cream shop and I just…"
Maggie wanted to find a believable excuse to tell Alfred, but her head was spinning, and her mind felt oddly muddled.
"Are you okay? Jesus, you're as white as a sheet …"
Alfred's voice was laced with concern, his blue eyes huge.
Maggie offered him a weak smile.
"Oh, yes, don't worry, it's just my natural complexion…"
Alfred didn't look convinced, and right then Maggie swayed. The boy gasped, promptly grabbing the girl from her arms before she could fall.
"Maggie?!"
There was an edge of panic in Alfred's voice, that sounded oddly like it was coming from far away, Maggie had to concentrate ridiculously hard to make out the boy's words.
"I'm fine, just a dizzy spell…" she muttered automatically.
The ringing in her ears was getting louder. She tried to detach herself from Alfred, putting the weight back on her legs, but the world seemed to teeter on its axis at the movement.
"You need to sit down."
Alfred's voice held the cold calm of somebody trying to hide his panic.
The boy slid an arm around her waist and hooked his free hand under the girl's elbow before leading her firmly somewhere – the tables? Maggie didn't know, but Alfred seemed certain of the direction.
"It's nothing, I'm fine…" the girl managed to whisper, desperately trying to hang to the last thread of consciousness.
Her field of vision looked like a blurred photocopy, completely filled with black spots and blurred edges, and the ringing in her ears had grown to a roar, swallowing all the other sounds. Alfred was talking urgently, Maggie could recognize his voice, but she couldn't understand what he was saying. Other voices joined his, a kaleidoscope of sounds she wasn't able to decipher, as the ground tilted and her body swayed.
Maggie was drowning, she couldn't understand what was going on anymore – she couldn't feel her feet, she didn't know where she was, not even if she was standing upright or not. The only certainty she had was Alfred, his warm and strong body felt firm and solid against her, his steady hold the only thing that kept Maggie anchored to reality.
The girl vaguely recognized a second pair of hands grabbing her legs, and along with Alfred's they laid her down on a hard horizontal surface.
Somebody grabbed her ankles, raising her legs.
Maggie wanted to move away, but she couldn't summon enough strength to shift her leaden limbs, so she stayed still.
Little by little, the ringing in her ears died down, and the girl started regaining awareness of her surroundings.
She was lying on a wooden bench, she could feel the boards under her back, and somebody was gently patting her cheek, talking softly.
"Can you hear me? Are you with us?"
It was a man with a strong British accent. His smooth voice sounded familiar, but Maggie couldn't remember where she had heard it before. The hand didn't belong to Alfred, it felt rougher, but slightly smaller than the boy's one, and the touch was more delicate.
With a greater effort than she would have thought, the girl managed to pry her eyes open.
(When had she even closed them? She couldn't remember.)
Gradually, the confused mixture of colours in front of her eyes cleared up, outlining the face of a stranger leaning over her.
The man looked in his early thirties, and his pale face, with a pointy chin and delicate features, was framed by short wheat-blond hair, straight but messy. A pair of slightly slanted eyes of a bright lime green was topped by the most impressive pair of eyebrows Maggie had ever seen. They were so huge and fuzzy they could almost be mistaken for fat, golden caterpillars, the girl found herself completely transfixed by them.
The man's furrowed forehead relaxed slightly.
"Everything's alright," he said gently, "How are you feeling?"
"Maggie?" echoed Alfred's voice. He sounded scared.
Letting her eyes wander, Maggie realized the boy was the person keeping her legs raised. Alfred's eyes looked huge behind the glasses, and his face was paler than she remembered.
For a moment Maggie stared at him, trying to understand what was going on, then everything came back with enough force to leave her out of breath.
The girl opened her eyes wide, a strangled gasp bubbling up her throat as she tried to sit up, but the British man held her down by her shoulders. While his touch was gentle, it was firm enough to leave Maggie unable to move.
"Take it easy, you shouldn't try to get up yet," the man was saying, but Maggie barely registered it.
Had she had the power to make the earth open under her feet and swallow her, that would have been the moment to use it.
"I'm sorry!" the girl found herself squealing, "Oh, I'm so terribly sorry, I didn't mean to…"
"Maggie!" Alfred's exclamation stopped her. His eyes were wide with relief, he took a deep breath before he went on talking. "Thank God you are awake, you collapsed on me and I didn't know what to do, you have no idea of how worried I was!"
"Alfred!" the blond man said brusquely, "Let her breathe for a moment, she needs to recover."
For a second time, Maggie ignored him, her mind unable to focus on anything past the gut-wrenching knowledge of how much she had troubled Alfred.
"I'm sorry…" she whispered in a trembling voice, "I'm so sorry, I really am, I didn't mean to make you worry…"
"This is not the point! Jesus, you… you almost passed out! What if you had been alone? You could have hit your head, you could have gotten seriously hurt! Why didn't you eat anything at lunch?!"
Unable to hold Alfred's fierce gaze, Maggie let her eyes wander to the sky.
"I'm sorry…" she whispered again, feeling the tears pool at the corners of her eyes.
Alfred was right, she had been so utterly stupid. She knew that she had to eat even if she wasn't hungry, she should have taken some money in the morning and stopped to get something along the street… she couldn't afford to faint around, she had been incredibly lucky that Alfred had been there. What if somebody had called an ambulance? Steve wouldn't have been happy…
"Alfred! Calm. Down."
The British man was addressing the boy as if he knew him well, he clearly wasn't just a helpful passer-by.
"Maggie, right?"
The girl started and brought her eyes back to the man, nodding.
The stranger offered her a reassuring smile. When he talked, his voice was once again gentle.
"It's all right. Are you feeling any better?"
Maggie nodded again, not trusting her voice.
Following a gesture of the man, Alfred gently lowered her legs on the bench she was lying on, but when Maggie tried for a second time to get up the man stopped her again.
"Just lie down for a bit. Try to relax, now. Alfred, get her some ice cream, if her blood sugar is low it will help."
"Dad…" Alfred muttered, but the man interrupted him with a sharp wave of his hand, and after a last concerned glance at Maggie the boy walked away.
Ah, it's his father. This makes sense.
Maggie studied the man in front of her. She couldn't have guessed his relationship to Alfred from his look alone, they didn't have much in common. Even if he was wearing a trench coat, Maggie could see that the man was a completely different body type from Alfred, shorter and slighter. His skin was fair, a tone much closer to Maggie's own than Alfred's golden tan, and his facial features were completely different from Alfred's – except for the eye-shape, maybe. Yes, Alfred had something of his father in his eyes, but that wasn't was Maggie should be worrying about at that moment.
"I'm really sorry for bothering you," the girl managed to say after a few moments of silence, "I truly am. I didn't mean to…"
The man offered her a small, kind smile.
"You don't have to apologize, I can guarantee you that it's no bother. And you don't have to justify yourself, either, I highly doubt that anybody would faint on purpose."
Having failed to detect any hint of reproach in his voice, Maggie hesitantly smiled back.
After a few minutes, the girl decided that she was well enough to sit up, and this time Alfred's father, instead of restraining her, helped her with gentle, steadying hands.
For a moment, Maggie's head span. Her hands immediately grasped the wooden seat to steady herself as she waited for the world to settle.
"How are you feeling, poppet?" asked Alfred's father.
"Better."
Maggie offered him a weak smile. She still felt quite faint, and she wasn't sure that she would be strong enough to stand up, but at least the nausea had quelled down.
Not long later Alfred came back, holding a huge cup filled with ice-cream. His face lit up when his eyes landed on Maggie's sitting form.
"I hope you like chocolate, but everybody likes chocolate, right?" the boy asked as he handed her the cup.
Maggie hesitantly took a spoonful. The strong flavour of chocolate filled her mouth, accompanied by the startling realization that she was starving. A few spoonsful followed the first one before Maggie remembered that she wasn't alone.
"Thank you," she muttered, looking at Alfred and his father.
"Better?" asked the man, whose brow was still knitted with concern.
Maggie nodded.
"It must have really been just low blood sugar, then." Alfred's father sighed, his features finally relaxing. "Well, better this than something more serious…"
Once again, Maggie wanted nothing more than being swallowed by the ground.
"I'm really sorry," she whispered for the umpteenth time, feeling her stomach twist. "I'm sorry I bothered you. I…"
She shrugged and forced herself to keep her head high. Her eyes met Alfred's still concerned ones.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean not to eat, I just… I don't know, I've had so much to do in the past days, we moved and there was everything to unpack, the house to clean, then I had to do all the paperwork for school and I… now that I think about it I've been eating very little lately, but I didn't even realize it, I wasn't hungry…"
Maggie swallowed, clenching her fists as she used every inch of her will to keep eye-contact with Alfred.
"I didn't do it on purpose, really, I simply wasn't hungry… I would have never thought I was going to faint, I didn't think I was eating so little…"
For once, it was completely true, and utterly embarrassing, now that she thought about it. It had been a long time since she had lost control of the situation that way, she should know better…
Alfred's father nodded, his brow slightly creased as he looked at Maggie with an unexpected knowingly expression – it was almost as if he could understand perfectly what was going on. Maggie hadn't been expecting that, nor was she anticipating Alfred's reaction.
"Maggie, I'm so sorry!" the boy blurted out, his eyes wide with genuine regret. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable, really! I just wanted to make you feel welcome…Tolys and Kiku told me I was being too overbearing, that you're shy and I should have been more considerate, and Ludwig too, but I didn't think you were that uncomfortable, I swear! Sorry! I know I'm too loud sometimes, but I really really didn't mean to…"
Alfred interrupted his lament, but he never stopped looking at Maggie with his huge, expressive eyes.
"Amen to that," his father said dryly, shaking his head.
Maggie had been so taken aback by the outburst that she needed a few moments to realize she was supposed to answer.
"Y—you don't have to apologize," she managed to say in the end, accompanying her words with a slight shake of her head. "You didn't do anything wrong, it's not your fault… actually, you've been really nice to me."
Alfred's eyes lit up, his features relaxing until he was beaming again. The sight conjured in Maggie's mind the odd picture of an overeager puppy.
"Are you sure? Seriously, until Tolys and Kiku told me I hadn't thought a shy person would be stressed by being around so many people…I shouldn't have dragged you around like that…"
Maggie realized that a small smile was tugging at the corners of her lips.
"Don't worry, it wasn't what stressed me out… I'm not lying, you have all been incredibly nice to me. And I'm sorry if I didn't let it show, that's because I'm not used to being at the centre of attention, but I do appreciate what you did, I really do, I'm just… Not so good with people…"
That was the understatement of the century, but it seemed to be enough for Alfred, whose smile didn't fade.
His father snorted.
"You're being too nice. It's high time for him to realize not everybody is completely lacking in social inhibitions, he can't just drag people around as he wants."
"Dad…" Alfred whined, pouting.
In spite of the reproach, there was a glint of tenderness in the man's eyes, and his stern expression was ruined by the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth.
He ignored Alfred's complaint, addressing Maggie.
"Anyway, you should finish that ice cream, you clearly need it."
Aware of being observed, Maggie hurried to do as she was told.
"Thank you, I feel a lot better now," she said as soon as she had swallowed the last spoonful, setting down the empty cup.
It wasn't a lie, she wasn't feeling light-headed or nauseous anymore, nor as exhausted. The girl made a mental note to not only be more careful about not getting so close to fainting, but try to eat any time she could to get at least close to a regular caloric intake: she had almost forgotten how much better she felt after eating…
"How much was it?" she asked, rummaging through her bag in search of the wallet.
"Don't even think about it, it would be so not heroic to let you pay!" Alfred answered immediately, grabbing her arm.
Maggie shook her head.
"Oh, no, I have some money with me, you've already done so much…"
"Alfred is right, it's on me," guaranteed the boy's father.
Maggie opened her mouth to reply, but the man was quicker.
"You really don't have to worry about it, it was just some ice cream, it's not a problem at all. If it makes you feel better, consider it something like a tip, since apparently, you are the only thing that can make Alfred get to school on time…"
"Dad!"
Accepting such an act of kindness from a man she had already caused so much disturbance to made Maggie's stomach churn with guilt, but his firm voice didn't leave any edge for bargaining.
Blushing, she nodded.
"Then… thank you very much, Mr Jones, you really didn't need to…"
Alfred laughed.
"Whoa, calm down! It was just an ice cream cup! I know I'm the Hero, but you don't really need to call me 'Mr Jones' for this!"
Maggie frowned, confused.
"Err, actually…"
"My surname isn't Jones," cut in Alfred's father, his words accompanied by a slight grimace. "It's Kirkland. I'm sorry, we haven't been properly introduced, have we? Arthur Kirkland, it's nice to meet you."
Arthur Kirkland held out his hand to her, but the girl didn't take it. She could only keep gaping at the man, frozen.
Now she did remember where she had heard his voice before.
"You are that Arthur Kirkland?!" she squealed in the end, too shocked to even think about shaking his hand.
How could I take so much time to recognize his voice?
In spite of having heard it only once before, on the radio, Maggie would never be able to forget it.
She had stumbled upon that broadcast by chance, while she was zapping. She had stopped to listen because she had immediately recognized the text, she had read that book so many times that she almost knew it by heart, and something about it automatically interested her. She had spent the next minutes in silence, mesmerized by the voice of the reader. Maggie had never heard something like that. The reading was captivating and dramatic, the man stopped just at the right times, modulated his voice in tune with the emotions conveyed by the book, enhancing them in a way that managed to be at the same time moving and haunting, leaking into the depths of her being. Only when the reading had stopped, and Maggie had realized her face was soaked in tears, she had found out that the reader was the author of the book himself, Arthur Kirkland.
Arthur Kirkland wrote mostly fantasy books addressed to teens and children. He wasn't particularly famous, he rarely left interviews and showed himself in public even less, and his books were among Maggie's favourite ones. She had read some of them when she was still in grade school, and she kept doing that even now that she was older. They were nice books, with convoluted plots and likeable, real characters, and even if Maggie had heard people complaining about how the main characters always growing up into positive models was unrealistic she didn't agree with that opinion, it was refreshing to read books like that. Not to mention how entertaining and original the plot always was. Maggie had instantly taken a liking to Arthur Kirkland's style. Then she had read Crumbles of Stars. It was completely different from Kirkland's usual books. It was shorter, for a starter, and the plot more linear, but it was a story so deep and delicate, painful and at the same time full of hope, that it never failed to move Maggie to tears. And at the same time, every time she read it Maggie felt somehow better, as if lighter. It was her favourite book, and since then she had made a point to read each of Arthur Kirkland's works.
And now, her favourite writer was right in front of her – correction: she had basically passed out on him – and she didn't have the slightest idea of what to say.
Arthur's bushy eyebrows furrowed.
"Yes, I suppose that would be me," he answered, unable to hide a hint of surprise from his voice.
Alfred was looking at her quizzically, as if he hadn't grasped what had just happened.
"Oh my God I love your books," Maggie blurted out, without taking a breath, before she could think of something else.
Immediately she felt her face heat up as her hands went to cover her mouth.
"Oh!" Alfred sounded surprised. "Did you read Dad's books?"
Maggie could only nod, too embarrassed to add anything else. She probably would have thrown up if she had opened her mouth anyway, her insides were twisting and churning,
"Well, that's certainly nice to hear. Thank you," Arthur answered. A faint blush blossomed over his cheeks, but his lips were barely curved in what looked like a smug smile.
Maggie couldn't meet his eyes.
What's the policy when you meet the author of the books you have been illegally downloading for the last three years?
In her defence, Maggie would have never resorted to downloading books if she had had enough money or other legal means to get them. She would have loved to just go to the library, had Steve not been so reluctant to let her out alone. Maggie couldn't blame him for that, but it didn't change the outcome: there was no way she could have enough books to read. Because of that, using all the money she had earned doing little jobs for the neighbours, Maggie had bought an e-reader. It might have been (it most likely had been) a stupid decision, she should have saved that money for something more important, but in spite of that, Maggie couldn't bring herself to regret it. An e-reader gave her access to an unlimited number of free books, and for how selfish it was Maggie was aware that the escape provided by reading was the only thing that kept her relatively sane.
Which did nothing to improve the embarrassing situation, however.
And now that I think about it, why does Alfred have a different surname?
Kirkland could have been a pseudonym, but she deemed it improbable since Arthur had introduced himself using that surname.
Not that Maggie would have ever dared to ask such a personal question.
An awkward silence had enveloped the three of them. Maggie wanted to break it, but she didn't have a single clue of how to do it without sounding like a complete idiot.
Luckily, she had underestimated Alfred's inability to read the atmosphere.
"Oh, I bet you are wondering why we have a different surname!" said the boy, his face lighting up as he looked at her expectantly.
'Yes, I'm dying to know it…' Maggie would have liked to say. Arthur might be only Alfred's step-father, just like Steve, but they were very relaxed around each other, which seemed to point at Arthur being Alfred's natural father. Maybe he and Alfred's mother hadn't been married when Alfred had been born, Arthur looked very young – he certainly looked younger than his real age, but Maggie would have bet he was around the age her mother would have been, at most.
'No, don't worry about it, you don't have to tell me anything,' the rational and polite part of Maggie's brain wanted to answer. For how curious she could be, it. Wasn't. Her. Business.
However, she didn't have to choose either option, because Arthur was the one who started talking, not before giving Alfred a dirty look.
"That's… actually quite complicated," he said gravely, "My wife and I decided to let Alfred have her surname for… several reasons."
Maggie simply nodded. Arthur's expression was stony, letting her understand that the subject wouldn't be delved into any further, yet his vivid, piercing eyes betrayed some clearly powerful emotions. Then, there had been that slight catch in his voice when he had mentioned Alfred's mother… Maggie's eyes widened at the realization, her stomach plummeting.
"I'm sorry for your loss," she said in a whisper. Her chest felt tight, she never knew what to say in those situations… but she felt like she owed Arthur something. And the thought of Alfred going through something so horrible, in spite of his bright personality…
Arthur took a sharp breath.
"How…?"
Maggie raised her head to see both males looking at her with a quizzical expression. She unconsciously bit her lower lip, her stomach coiling.
'God this was so stupid… Why can't I keep my mouth shut?'
It wasn't such a clear conclusion, the fact that Arthur's wife was dead wasn't actually mentioned anywhere that Maggie knew of. Yet it had looked so clear for her, who had gone through a similar experience… and now she had to explain it, at least.
"Crumbles of Stars," she said, her voice trembling. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude, I just thought… I mean, that dedication…"
Arthur still looked surprised, but he nodded.
Maggie swallowed. She really didn't want to go on, and yet she had to, she had landed herself in that situation.
"That book… I read it just after my mother died. It was… it really helped me a lot."
Her voice was barely above a whisper, and a soon as the words went past her lips she regretted them, but she felt like she had to give Arthur something in exchange for that part of his private life he had unwillingly shared with her.
The man nodded again. His eyes looked glazed, as if he were looking at something far away, the faint echo of a memory.
"I wrote it for Alfred," he said weakly.
He didn't elaborate, but Maggie understood. To tell him about his mother's death, to help him understand, maybe so that Arthur himself could elaborate his loss. And it had helped Maggie, as well, and with her probably countless other people.
"I'm sorry for your mother," Arthur offered in a soft voice.
Maggie managed to address him a faint smile.
"This thing his getting seriously depressing," Alfred pointed out bluntly, and before Maggie had time to open her mouth and apologize to him, as well, he went on. "And you don't need to apologize, really, I was the one who brought this up and I can say I'm fairly sure you weren't involved in Mom's death. Aand you don't have to be sorry, really, Dad is an old grumpy man, but he's my old grumpy old man, so I'm fine, you know?"
Alfred took a breath.
"I'm sorry for your mother, though," he said in a lower tone, his face suddenly soberer.
Maggie cracked a weak smile.
"It's not your fault?" she said hesitantly, and was rewarded with the boy's sharp laugh.
Arthur sighed and shook his head, but he didn't look as tense as before.
Maggie brought her attention back to Alfred, tilting her head. It was incredible how he had managed to diffuse a situation like that… even more knowing what he had been through. His mother's death couldn't have left him unscathed, yet he still managed to be such a positive and bright person… that was truly remarkable, in Maggie's book. It was clear that there was a lot more to Alfred than simply a friendly, chatty boy, but at the same time, his positive disposition didn't seem faked.
"You know what?" Alfred said loudly, "You can officially join the club!"
"Alfred!" Arthur scolded him immediately, but went completely ignored.
"Club?"
"Ok, there isn't actually a club," Alfred admitted sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. "I dunno, sometimes we say it, but it's mainly a joke… it's just that, you see, we're all orphans!"
"Oh…" whispered Maggie, unsure of how she was supposed to take the news. She didn't know who was involved in the 'everybody' Alfred was talking about, and it certainly didn't sound like something positive, but the boy was smiling.
"Ok, it's not actually everybody… just me, Ludwig, Feli and his brother, Kiku, Erika, and even Natalya and Ivan… well, kind of. But the thing is… we basically are friends because we are orphans!"
Without stopping to take a breath, Alfred launched himself into a complicated explanation of everybody's family situation and how it had influenced their friendship.
From what Maggie was able to understand, after his wife's death, Arthur had come to rely heavily on the same Francis Alfred had already mentioned, and Francis's friend had been involved too – in particular, a man named Gilbert and a married couple, Antonio and Laura. The two had later adopted Lovino, Feliciano's older brother, and given their guardians' closeness he and Alfred had started spending a lot of time together. Sometime after being adopted, Lovino had revealed having a younger brother from whom he had been separated at the orphanage, and Antonio and Laura had immediately started looking for him. When they had finally had news of him, they had learnt he had been adopted by a young couple, Roderich and Erzsébet. Erzsébet had turned out to be a childhood friend of Gilbert's. As soon as they had learnt the situation, Roderich and Erzsébet had decided to move to allow Feliciano and Lovino to grow up together, and because of that Alfred and the younger Vargas brother had become fast friends.
A few years later Gilbert had found himself taking care of his much younger half-brother, Ludwig, after their parents' sudden death. At first cold and introverted, Ludwig had ended up warming up to the other children thanks to Feliciano's constant attention.
Erika was the step-sister of a childhood friend of Roderich's. When her parents had died and the young man had been given custody of her he had accepted, albeit reluctantly, Roderich's help, and Erika had joined the small group of children.
Kiku lived with his older cousin, Yao, and the two had moved there during his first year of high school. Due to his similar position, Yao had gotten to know the other parents, and consequently Kiku, in spite of being shy and distant, had ended up spending his time with Alfred and the others.
Natalya and Ivan lived with their older sister, Iryna, and had moved to the US as soon as the girl had turned of age. Alfred was quite sure that at least one of their parents and some other adult relatives were still alive, but since they were still in Russia Ivan and Natalya were basically considered honorary members of the club.
When Alfred finally stopped talking, Maggie needed a few moments to elaborate the load of information that had been poured out of his mouth, and even when she did she didn't have the slightest idea of how to react.
Luckily, Arthur decided that it was time for an intervention.
"I'm sorry about this, he never knows when it would be time to shut his trap," he said, looking at his son with a slightly downhearted expression. "Alfred, do you really think it was truly necessary to say all that?"
"Did I do something wrong?" the boy looked genuinely confused, his eyebrows raised. "I only wanted to explain everything to Maggie… to make her feel included, you know?"
Arthur ran a hand through his already unruly hair, sighing.
"What happened to 'Not make Maggie uncomfortable with my hyper behaviour'?"
"Oh…" Alfred lowered slightly his head, sheepishly. "Uhm… I'm sorry, I hadn't thought…"
"It doesn't matter," interjected Maggie. She didn't like to see Alfred uneasy. "It's just… a lot to grasp? I would have never thought that…"
She stopped.
Seriously, what was she supposed to say? Being orphans sounded tragic, but Alfred had talked about it like it was a common occurrence, like he and everybody else were actually happy, in spite of their natural parents' absence.
And maybe they were, Maggie realized suddenly. Maybe they lived with people that loved them and cared for them, and even if their parents were dead, they were living good lives.
It was quite a foreign concept to grasp.
Not that Steve didn't care for her, at least a bit, but when her mother had been alive everything had been different, happier. And yes, right now it was a particularly hard time, but Maggie doubted things could ever get much better, and surely nothing would ever return to the previous light-heartedness.
Clearly, it wasn't like that for everybody. And Alfred did look happy, and comfortable enough to joke about something so serious. Of course, he still had one living relative so it wasn't exactly the same, but his outlook on the situation was truly inspiring.
"Hey, I have an idea!" the boy exclaimed, diverting Maggie from her thoughts. "You should introduce your dad to my dad and the others! I'm sure he would like them, somebody is a bit odd but they are all good people!"
Maggie had to steady herself against the bench.
Calm down, Maggie, take a deep breath…
A nervous giggle seeped through her lips.
"Eh… it's really nice of you, but I don't really think it would be a good idea… you know, Steve is working a lot these days, he doesn't have much free time, and he's such an introvert… I don't really think he'd like to meet more people, at least for now. He already has to get used to his new co-workers…"
Internally, Maggie was panicking, an icy grip threatened to close off her throat, but neither Alfred nor Arthur seemed to notice.
"Oh, what a pity…" the boy sighed, shaking his head. "Hey, why do you call him by his name?"
Arthur made a choking sound.
"Alfred!"
Maggie lowered her eyes and started playing with her tunic's hem, trying to pay attention to anything but Alfred's expression. She had been hoping to avoid that question, but Alfred wasn't stupid.
"Well, you see… actually, Steve is my step-father. He got married to Mama when I was ten, and… actually, I don't even know why I call him by his name, I guess there isn't a real reason, I just… I don't know, 'Dad' sounds so weird, it never occurred to me to use it with Steve…"
"Oh…" whispered Alfred, "What happened to your real dad?"
"Alfred! Why can't you think before talking, for God's sake!" rebuked Arthur, who had recovered from the shock. "You can't just ask… Maggie, I'm sorry. I don't really know how to apologize, you don't have to answer…"
"No, it's all right."
Maggie took a deep breath to steady herself. It wasn't something she enjoyed talking about, but Alfred had told her everything without prompting, so the least she could do was to reciprocate as much as she could.
"I've never met my natural father. Actually, I don't know who he is, I don't even know his name, Mama met him when she was in college, at a party at the end of her exchange period in France… there was a lot of alcohol around, they drank too much, and well…"
The girl stopped to take a breath, trying to ponder carefully the following words.
Alfred's eyes were wide with astonishment, but for once, he didn't say anything. Arthur's eyebrows were knitted over his sharp eyes in a way that looked almost painful.
"Sometime after that, when she was back in Canada, Mama realized she was pregnant. She chose to keep me, but she never tried to contact my father…"
"That not fair!" Alfred cut in unexpectedly, startling Maggie. His voice was trembling with outrage, and his hands were clenched into fists. "How could she do that?! Why didn't she tell him anything?! You are his daughter, too, he deserved to know!"
"Alfred!" Arthur, reprimanded the boy, giving a light squeeze to his shoulder.
Maggie shook her head. She couldn't take her eyes off Alfred, his vehemence certainly wasn't the reaction she had been expecting… nor could she understand it. Yet, for some reason, it wasn't completely unpleasant.
"It was just a party, they only wanted to have fun," she whispered, "I seriously doubt he would have been glad to raise a child, whoever he may be."
Not a child like me, especially.
Alfred took a deep breath as if about to say something more, but Maggie preceded him.
"And they were both completely wasted, anyway. Mama didn't even know his name… she only vaguely remembered how he looked like, and that he spoke French with a flawless accent."
Actually, those weren't the only things Chloé had told her, but Maggie wasn't ever going to tell the rest, not even under torture. She could still feel her face heating up whenever she thought about it. Knowing how pleasant that single night with her father had been, and that it was such a satisfying experience that no price – becoming a single mother at the age of twenty-one included – was too high to pay wasn't something a ten-year-old liked to know, and after four years Maggie still liked to pretend that conversation had never happened.
An awkward silence had fallen after her last words.
"You know," Alfred said in the end, "Dad got Mom pregnant before getting married, too."
"Alfred!" Arthur's exasperated scowl was truly impressive. "Who told you that?!"
Alfred's lips curved into a mischievous grin, his eyes glittering.
"Daad… I'm not stupid, you know… I know my Math. Mom doesn't look pregnant in the picture, but I was born five months after you got married, so…"
Maggie found herself frozen, the breath caught in her lungs. The way Alfred had addressed Arthur was truly outrageous, he was surely going to be punished, Maggie had no idea of what Steve would do for something like that…
His features creased in annoyance, Arthur opened his mouth to talk. Maggie clenched her fists, trying to prepare herself for the insults… but that didn't happen.
"You… cheeky kid," Arthur huffed, shaking his head.
The tension left Maggie so abruptly that she felt her head spinning.
'Of course, what was I thinking…'
Alfred might have been a bit too blunt, but he was a good person. And he was clearly close to his father, he wasn't going to get yelled at…
Diverting her eyes from both of them to try to compose herself, Maggie let her gaze wander around her. Alfred had led her to a bench not far from the ice-cream parlour, she could see the front of the building and some of the tables in front of it, occupied by a group of slightly older teens and some mothers with their children. A clock placed right over the sign caught her eyes.
Maggie gasped, brought violently back to reality.
"It's so late!"
Her terrified exclamation stirred both Alfred and Arthur, leading them to take a quizzical look over their shoulders before realizing the time.
"Wow, I thought it was way earlier!" commented Alfred.
"I'm sorry, but I really have to go now!" said Maggie, jerking up.
Both Alfred and Arthur instinctively stretched out their arms towards her, as if worried that she might faint again, but Maggie was feeling a lot better after eating.
"Thank you so much for everything," she said, "Really, I don't know how to thank you, but I have to go now…"
"I parked nearby, I'll drive you home," Arthur cut her off.
His tone didn't leave space for any reply, but Maggie had no intention of accepting, not after how much troubles she had already caused him.
"That's very kind of you, but there's no need for it, and I have to go shopping anyway, we basically don't have any food left at home."
"Then we can go with you to the store," decided Alfred, "I don't think we have much food left at home, either… I finished the cereals this morning, and I don't think we have much milk left."
"Yes, you are right," Arthur murmured, furrowing his forehead. "I was thinking of going tomorrow and getting pizza for dinner, but we can buy something now…"
Maggie hesitated.
She didn't want to take advantage of their kindness any more, but it was late, and going by car would save her a lot of time she could use to cook something for Steve…
"Ah, then, if it's really not a problem, thank you very much…" she opted for answering.
Alfred's bright smile that followed her words made her think it hadn't been the wrong decision.
Those moments spent crying over the fact he might completely forget about her looked so stupid right then…
Steve flopped down on the chair, grunting. The day had clearly been stressful for him, judging from the two beers he had already downed, but he wasn't completely drunk yet.
With trembling hands, Maggie hurried to fill his plate with roast and potatoes.
Without raising his head, the man took a forkful of meat and brought it to his mouth.
Maggie stood still, her eyes trained on her step-father as he chewed slowly for a time that seemed to expand for centuries, then finally swallowed.
"It's good," he said in the end, raising his eyes on the girl.
Maggie lowered her head as she felt her cheeks heating up. Steve must have been on a particularly good mood, a compliment from him was something more unique than rare, even when he was sober.
The man's voice diverted her from her thoughts.
"Why are you still standing? Sit down, eat something."
Maggie hurriedly obeyed, incredulous. She couldn't remember the last time her step-father had been so well-disposed while not completely sober.
Deciding that tempting the fate wouldn't have been wise, the girl placed in her plate the slimmest slice of beef and a few potatoes that she immediately started cutting in small pieces.
"So, how is school going?" Steve asked, with his mouth full.
"It's alright," Maggie reassured him, "I think I have good teachers, and…"
"Do you do your homework?"
"O—of course," she stammered.
"Good," was the single, sharp answer. "It's the least you can do, with all the money I spend on your education… you know what I think of all those brats who don't even do what they should."
Said that, Steve considered the conversation concluded and concentrated again on the food on his plate, completely ignoring the girl sitting in front of him.
Maggie tried to bite on a piece of meat, but she was too nervous to eat, it felt like cardboard.
I have to do this sooner or later, better do it now that he's in a good mood.
She caressed the idea of waiting until Steve was completely sober, but given the last weeks it might take a while, and Maggie couldn't afford it.
"I—I need to ask you something," she whispered.
Steve slammed the fork on the table with much more force than necessary, making the glass tingle.
"Speak a little louder, for fuck's sake, I'm not a mind-reader! What the fuck is that you want now?"
Maggie took a deep breath.
"There's a hockey team in the new school. Might I try the selections?"
A heavy silence fell over the room.
Steve slowly finished chewing the bite in his mouth, then took the glass to his lips and swallowed a long sip of beer.
Maggie kept staring at the big, rough hand as it placed the glass back on the table.
Steve took a deep breath.
"You used to play hockey in your old school, didn't you? I don't fucking understand what a girl can see in such a rough sport, but at this point…" the man shook his head. "Do the fuck you want, it's not like you are beyond repair anyway. Fuck! I could understand the hellhole we were before, but I would have never thought to find so many man-girls to form a hockey team here!"
Maggie's heart missed a beat.
For a moment she caressed the idea to avoid specifying, but she was painfully aware of what would happen if Steve found out about her deception.
"A—actually it's a mixed team," she informed him, her voice barely above a whisper.
Steve froze with his fork mid-air.
Slowly, he raised his head, and his brown eyes focused on Maggie.
The girl held her breath.
With carefully pondered movements, Steve laid the fork on the plate and wiped his hands on the napkin, never moving his eyes away from Maggie.
"Well," he said in the end, articulating slowly each word, "I guess I should have been expecting this… it's not easy, to raise a little brat like you alone… you have always been such a subdued, mousy little thing, but finally, you reveal your true nature, don't you?"
The man exhaled deeply.
"You know what I say? Fuck that, alright! But listen carefully, because there won't be a second warning: if I get any rumour – and believe me when I say I'm going to know – that my step-daughter is whoring around with her teammates, it won't end happily for you. If you let any of them touch you – a kiss, a grope, you can even let them shag you, I don't care what – you can start praying, because I'm making you regret taking a single fucking breath in this world, is it clear?!"
Steve gave emphasis to his words by slamming his fists on the table.
Maggie gasped and nodded quickly, her heart hammering in her chest, her muscles stiff with tension.
Steve took back his fork and started eating ravenously.
Maggie waited for a few minutes, but the man seemed to have forgotten about her.
Almost dizzy with relief, the girl slumped against the chair.
Wow, that went so much better than I had thought…
(word count: 8,046)
Notes:
Laura is Belgium
Iryna is Ukraine (also sometimes called with her nickname, Irunya)
So now you see why Maggie was so emotional last chapter: people with low sugar blood levels are prone to mood swings and being overdramatic – I've been told that it feels like PMS. And Maggie had eaten only an apple since dinner of two days before, so…
About Arthur, instead, I hope that you liked my career choice for him. I don't know, he strikes me as somebody who could be a writer. The book mentioned is not a real one, as far as I know, I just randomly made up a title.
Anyway, thank you for reading this! Next chapter will come in a few weeks since I also want to work on another story. Please, please leave a review!
EDIT! Like for Lithuania, I have changed Hungary's name to its more accurate version, Erzsébet, since the most accepted fanon version (probably result of an inaccurate transliteration from Katakana) isn't actually a real Hungarian name. I wrote a more detailed post about it on tumblr (feynavaley), if anybody is interested. It's not actually a big deal, but I prefer it this way and I wanted to warn you.
