Alfred glanced down at the empty plate in front of him. He knew Arthur had been busy lately, was almost always busy, but surely that didn't mean breakfast would be cancelled.
Light footsteps approached from the hallway and Alfred looked expectantly towards the door, quickly hiding his disappointment when Matthew entered instead of their caretaker.
Alfred's stomach growled in loud protest and Matthew sent a puzzled look from the empty table to the empty kitchen.
"Arthur's busy this morning," Alfred answered the unspoken question.
Nodding in understanding, Matthew moved past Alfred and began combing through the quaint pantry.
He pulled out containers of varying sizes and began throwing the powdered ingredients into a large bowl with eggs, butter, and finally splashes of milk.
The mixture was carefully poured into a warmed frying pan. Matthew kept vigilant watch over the sizzling batter while Alfred eyed his roommate with a newfound curiosity.
The spitting pan and periodical flop as Matthew flipped the cakes were the only sound in the room. A few more minutes ticked by until finally, Matthew walked over to the table and dished out the cakes to Alfred. He sat across the table and poured a generous helping of maple syrup over his own small pile.
Alfred wasted no time tucking into his meal and his mouth watered at the fluffy treat.
"What are these?" He asked, mouth still full of unchewed food.
Matthew tried not to wince at the sight and instead kept his eyes trained on his plate.
"They're just pancakes," he answered in his quiet, even voice. "It's one of the only things I can make on my own."
Alfred leaned in close to pick up every word that rolled off Matthew's tongue. He had been trying to speak more, and in a language that everyone in the house could understand, but his vocal level never reached beyond a murmur.
Arthur would often sigh in exasperation from constantly needing Matthew to repeat himself, or else he would miss the words altogether.
Alfred, however, enjoyed hearing what little words came from his roommate's mouth. Every whispered sentence seemed like an important secret. And with Matthew it probably was. He rarely spoke unless it was something important.
And so, Alfred always found himself straining to listen to the small voice, to share in those secrets.
Shovelling a few more mouthfuls in, Alfred made sure to finish chewing this time before voicing the next question.
"Did Mr. France teach you how to cook?"
Matthew looked up at him with wide eyes. It had been the first time Francis had been brought up in front of him since all those weeks ago. There was a sort of unspoken rule against bringing up Mr. France. The subject tended to make Arthur's face turn red and Matthew's eyes water.
There were no tears welling up in his eyes now though. Matthew simply nodded. "Papa would call them crepes. But he makes them a little different."
He poked the last few remaining pieces with a sad smile on his face.
This time it was Alfred's turn to stare with wide eyes.
It was the first time he had seen anything close to a smile on Matthew's face. It was a shame too; his cheeks were round and soft, the perfect shape for a bright smile.
Matthew stood to collect both of their dishes and made his way to the sink to clean the mess. Alfred remained in his seat, staring at the table with a furrowed brow. Clearly something needed to be done to bring out a smile from Matthew – a real, genuine smile.
He pushed away from the table and sprang to his feet. It was time for a hero to intervene. Without a single sparing glance, Alfred bolted out of the kitchen and down the hall. Ideas were already flooding his racing mind. It was time for operation: Make Matthew Smile.
Matthew examined one of the toy soldiers that Alfred had dropped into his lap. They had all been carefully carved from wood, with each face uniquely made - a gift from Arthur.
Alfred's grin stretched across his entire face and he was buzzing with excitement. He placed a discordant mixture of other toys on their play table while Matthew began to line up the soldiers into neat rows.
"This one is the general. You can tell because his mouth is open 'cause he's always yelling." Alfred quickly explained, singling out a soldier while shooting Matthew a very serious look.
He picked up another saying, "This one is the lieutenant general because he looks kinda worried about following the generals orders, but you can tell he's still tough enough to boss the others around."
Matthew nodded along and shuffled to the other side of the table to play for the opposing side.
"What are you doing?" Alfred demanded as Matthew began shifting his own mixture of toys around.
He shot Alfred a confused and sheepish look, instantly dropping the toys. Perhaps Alfred only wanted him to watch and not play.
Al grabbed the hand of the Canadian, pulling him back around the table and to his side.
"You can't be the bad guys, we have to work together to beat them!" He explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Alfred held the lieutenant general to Matthew who looked at the soldier unsurely.
"We're brothers.' Alfred said firmly. "And brothers have to fight on the same side."
Matthew looked at Alfred with wide eyes, searching his face apprehensively. But there was no lie in Alfred's blue eyes nor was there any derision to be found. His eyebrows were pulled in, the same way Arthur's did when he gave the boys a lecture about British culture or proper etiquette. Though the effect was less severe on Alfred, there was no denying the seriousness in that expression, or the complete sincerity in his words.
Matthew swallowed and dropped his gaze. He took the lieutenant general and turned back to the table wordlessly. He could feel Alfred's steady gaze on him still.
He wanted to cuff him because now there was no one to move the enemy pieces, which would make for an easy fight. He wanted to tell him off for trying to barge into his life. He wanted to shrug off those words and tell Al that he didn't need a brother because he could take care of himself and fight for himself.
But mostly, he wanted to thank Alfred for extending his hand when Matthew felt like he was falling. And as he looked back at the loud American whose signature toothy grin had replaced the serious expression again, he wanted to thank Al for understanding him even when he didn't have the words to speak.
They both turned back to the table and Al was already yelling orders from the general and smashing his troops into the defenseless enemy ranks.
The two boys collapsed on their backs in the grassy fields that lay behind their house.
Al had completed plans A-P and if he wasn't careful he was going to run out of letters in the alphabet before his operation was successful.
The two had never spent so much time together as they had today. Al had let Matthew be his sidekick for hero adventures, they explored the muddy creek at the end of the lane and even caught a few frogs, they had just been exploring the back fields, having ran around for hours and were near exhausted now.
However, if there was one thing that Alfred F. Jones was, it was obstinate. And he was not going to fail this mission. The sun was setting behind the western mountains and the moon was already high in the sky, just visible in the dimming light.
He would continue with his plan, but perhaps a short break was needed. Even heroes needed breaks to recharge, right?
A moment of silence passed between the two as they worked to catch their breath, but as always Alfred was the first to break it.
"Someday, I'm going to fly to the sun," he stated loudly.
If Matthew was at all surprised by the sudden and strange comment he gave no such indication.
Another beat passed.
"Francis told me a story about a man who tried to fly to the sun but he got burnt when he was too close," Matthew said uncertainly in his tempered voice.
Alfred shrugged. "Fine, I'll fly to the moon then."
He felt Matthew stir beside him. "Do you think that's really possible?" He asked tentatively.
Alfred rolled over onto his stomach so that he was facing his brother who mirrored the action.
"Of course! Once I grow up, I'm going to be the biggest and strongest country in the world. So I'll be able to do anything I want!"
Matthew's eyes grew large again as if he was seeing Alfred in a new, impressive light.
Al grinned at Matthew, resting his chin on his folded hands. "I'll be strong enough to protect everyone, and you can stay by my side as my super sidekick. Then we'll all live together! You, me, Arthur, and Francis."
Matthew's eyes danced in the light of the dying sun. With words no more than a whisper he asked, "Do you really think that could happen?"
Alfred's answer was instantaneous. "I'll make it happen. Though - " he paused and glanced around conspiratorially, "We probably have to put them at separate ends of the house so they don't kill each other."
Despite all of his schooling, Matthew couldn't contain the grin and excited giggle that escaped him at the idea of the four of them living together.
Alfred nearly gasped at the light sound and felt his own wide smile match that of his brother across from him.
If getting their broken family together was all he had to do to illicit that joyful sound, Al would have built them a house and kidnapped Francis and Arthur hours ago. He was capable of anything, and keeping a family together was far easier than flying to the moon.
He considered it a mission accomplished.
I didn't notice until now that all of the line breaks for the first two chapters had disappeared. Sorry about any confusion that may have caused. Anyway, here's a much lighter chapter with some brotherly love. Enjoy!
