Once again, you all are very lovely people. But you know, I'm not sure how often I'll make my updates. I tend to get lazy and stray from any personal schedule I may set for myself, but I suppose it all depends on how I feel about the chapter I'm writing and how inspired I feel about writing in general. So I won't give you any sort of schedule, it will just have to be a surprise since I'm not even sure, myself...ahaha. Sorry if this felt like a long wait, I truly was stumped when it came to writing this. Nothing seemed right and I had to write and rewrite this a few times and I still can't say I'm entirely satisfied with it.

But really, I find this story a little more difficult to write since it doesn't have much scenery change and not a fast-moving plot at all. I guess I'll just see where my muse takes me, and I hope you'll all enjoy the ride. XD

So on with the chapter~

III.

At the Heart of the Problem

It had been exactly one week since Alfred's whipping.

No, perhaps it wasn't quite right to call it just a 'whipping'; in Arthur's opinion, it had meant something so much more. Donovan had accused Alfred of liking men, and on what grounds? Arthur was fairly sure that Alfred had never showed any affection to anyone in particular, much less Arthur himself. That was just absurd. As nice as that might be...no, no, no. He did not just think of wanting Alfred to be affectionate with him. Oh goodness no. No. ...Definitely no.

He sighed to himself as he dressed for another morning of work, tugging at the collar that exposed far too much of his neck. It was a bit troublesome, especially since his single little welt from the time he was struck with the whip was shown if one were to look at his neck from the right angle. And having it exposed at all only made him feel even more terrible about what had happened to Alfred. Then again, Alfred likely hadn't noticed it and hopefully never would; he dreaded having to explain that to his friend.

Before he knew it he was filing out into the hall with the others for more working. He scanned the group for Alfred, frowning when he couldn't spot him. Normally Alfred would be here already, just waiting for an opportunity to pester him. Since the whipping, he had been a bit more subdued and his usual cheeriness seemed lacking, almost forced. He hated seeing him like that to the point that he almost missed Alfred's nonsensical chatter and his knack for bothering him.

Sometimes, when he thought Arthur wasn't looking, Alfred would have a distant look on his face...almost as if he were thinking about something. Whenever Arthur would catch him like this, he would simply smile and brush it off, but there was always something forced in his smile and his usual jibes felt half-hearted.

Arthur only sighed, waiting to head out to breakfast until he felt a tap on his shoulder and he turned, nearly sighing in relief as he saw Alfred. He did not, however, and kept up his usual indifferent expression and snippy attitude.

"Ah, Alfred. How wonderful of you to show up." He said a bit snidely, turning his worry into sarcasm. I thought you would never come.

Alfred rolled his eyes at that. "Great to see you too, Artie." He yawned after this, stretching a little before wincing slightly as he pulled at his still healing wounds, laughing awkwardly as he saw that Arthur's eyes were still fixed on him.

He could only sigh at this. He wanted to ask Alfred what he was thinking, he really did, but he was afraid to know the answer. They had already known each other for quite a decent amount of time and now he was getting scared and balking at the mere thought of asking Alfred anything personal. Now that he thought about it, what exactly did he know about Alfred?

The answer was not much, not much at all. And the more he thought about it, the more Arthur's stomach tied itself into knots.

He watched the other out of the corners of his eyes, not willing in the least to let him out of his sight. If he did, who knew what could happen. He feared that Alfred was terribly unstable right now and he was perhaps overly worried for his state of mind but couldn't help it no matter how hard he tried.

"Ready for another day of work, Artie?" Alfred was beaming but it seemed so dull and false when compared with his usual smile.

"Ready as I always am, Alfred." He replied crisply, keeping up his usual attitude as well to hide his steadily increasing worry. They were such good friends, yet they were both acting as if they were on stage in some sort of play? How absurd! Friends oughtn't act as such! But there they were, both wearing masks, and Arthur hated it deeply.

Alfred chuckled in response. "Well, I'm certain you noticed that tomorrow is a Sunday and we have no work on Sunday. I don't know about you, but I, for one, am glad to get a day of rest finally."

Arthur only hummed in response, his mind elsewhere. Elsewhere being on things like Alfred's numerous wounds and their inflicter.

"Well, let's get going." Alfred nudged Arthur lightly who dragged himself from his miserable thoughts to begin heading off to the dining hall for breakfast. He wasn't hungry in the least, but forced himself to get the usual disgusting 'food' they were always served and sat himself next to Alfred, shifting uncomfortably on the rough bench and picking morosely at his glop. If Alfred noticed his foul mood, he certainly didn't comment; he was chatting away as cheerfully as ever and seemed completely content...but Arthur knew better. Arthur knew he was still thinking about his experience, as much as he tried to hide it.

As he listened to Alfred talk, pretending to listen and occasionally making sounds of agreement or nodding his head, Arthur could tell just by looking in Alfred's eyes that he'd changed.

Oh it was hardly a change; perhaps it was better to say it was a shift in perspective. A dose of reality. Whichever was more fitting.

Either way, Arthur had been rather talented at cloaking his own emotions for a while now, so he made sure Alfred was completely oblivious to his worry.

Once they had finished eating and disposed of their bowls, (in Arthur's case, he disposed of quite a bit of his food and did so carefully so Alfred wouldn't notice) they headed to the workplace. Today they would be breaking stones, which was, in all sincerity, rather backbreaking work. It was likely one of Arthur's least favorite things next to prayer sessions led by Patsy Donovan, which in contrast to the stone breaking, were rather common.

Again, Arthur was somewhat worried that if Alfred were to do such strenuous work it would reopen his barely-healed wounds, but Alfred had already been working constantly for the past week or so without any complications. So Arthur said nothing, but did throw the occasional worried glance at Alfred whenever he stumbled slightly from raising his hammer too high.

They worked in a rather uncomfortable silence. Or rather, uncomfortable for Arthur. Alfred didn't seem to mind at all.

Donovan made his usual rounds, cracking his whip at a few workers and menacing them as he usually did.

But what was unusual was when Donovan came by and fixed Arthur with a look that made him highly uncomfortable. His dark eyes were piercing, calculating, thoughtful. Once the man walked away and resumed checking up on the workers, Arthur sighed heavily in relief. There was something about that stare that unnerved him, but he couldn't put a finger on precisely why.

When he glanced over at Alfred, however, he noticed he paused in his work and was scowling at the retreating figure of Donovan. Arthur bit the inside of his cheek at this just as Alfred turned and caught him staring. Flushing faintly, he turned back to his work with renewed vigor as Arthur stared silently at him for a moment longer before doing the same.

Well, he'd be damned if that wasn't a bit strange.

Feeling sore and rather exhausted, Arthur trudged after all the other workers, half dragging his feet as he did so. At some point after dinner, Arthur had separated from Alfred and hadn't seen him since they'd finished eating. He was wondering where he had gone, but was too tired to do much more than worry about it.

He reached his room and almost immediately began to change, unbuttoning his uniform a few buttons before stretching and reaching for his nightclothes...

...until he felt a hand on his shoulder.

Arthur sucked in a loud breath and whirled around, eyes wide.

"Arthur, calm down, it's me. Alfred." He put both hands on Arthur's shoulders, who slowly began to relax under the familiar touch.

Alfred. It was just Alfred. But what in the name of God gave him the right to sneak up behind him like that and scare him half to death?

"What, pray tell, was that for?" Arthur hissed, dropping his nightclothes on the bed and pulling away from Alfred so he could go sit on it.

Alfred sighed at this, running a hand through his hair, seeming exasperated. This just served to annoy Arthur more. "Calm yourself, Artie. There's no need for panic."

"No need for...? What else should I expect from someone sneaking up on me from behind in the middle of the night like this!" He scowled, folding his arms across his chest. "I do hope you have a very good reason for scaring the wits out of me."

Alfred fell silent for a moment, his expression turning even more solemn, if that was even possible. After a moment, he moved to sit next to Arthur on the bed, staring out at the hall without really seeing it.

Arthur fidgeted, a little unnerved. Something was up. If something wasn't wrong then Alfred wouldn't be snooping about and feel the need to sneak up on him when he was totally unsuspecting.

"It's...Donovan." He said finally, his hands curling into fists as he spoke, his eyes narrowing slightly. His gaze remained fixed on the hall, but something flickered in his eyes now.

"Alright...Donovan. What about Donovan?" Arthur did his very best to sound nonchalant and calm but inside he was trembling. Alfred was scaring him right now.

"It's just..." Alfred heaved a sigh, shaking his head and scowling at the floor. "Lately he's been acting differently. I can't really...explain it but he's been...staring at you. Intently." Now Alfred looked at Arthur, their gazes meeting. Arthur swallowed nervously.

"I have noticed, actually. I didn't feel it was anything to be worried about."

At this Alfred snorted. "You think it's nothing? Right. Nothing. He's staring at you like - "

He cut himself off, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger.

"Like what, Alfred?" Arthur asked, reaching up to gently grip his shoulder when he remained silent. "What?"

Alfred opened his eyes and allowed his gaze to meet Arthur's again. "Like he's...interested in you or something. You know." He frowned to himself.

Arthur could only blink at that. "Interested? How do you mean?"

"As in...romantically, o-or uh...lustfully." He said the last part so quietly Arthur wasn't sure he heard him right. But once the words sunk in he flushed slightly.

"I, well...you don't know that." He replied lamely, fiddling with his fingers, eyes glued to his lap now.

"You know..." Alfred sighed heavily and stood. "Just forget it. I'll see you tomorrow."

And he strode briskly out of the room without a backward glance or another word.

Arthur's eyes remained fixed to the hall for several moments after Alfred left. He drew his knees up to his chest, glancing over at his nightclothes before reaching for them so he could change.

As he changed he wondered. Surely there was no way Alfred suspected anything about Arthur himself. No, the boy was a little dense. But clearly there was something that happened when he was with Donovan that...made him see the man in a different light. Arthur wasn't sure what that could be, but the mere idea of Donovan being 'interested' in a poor, dirty workhouse laborer like himself was absurd! Donovan was married, for one thing. The man had a stunning wife and the two always seemed to share a close bond. (Close as two snakes can be, he mused dryly.)

So Alfred had to be incorrect. That was the only viable conclusion. His friend was...confused by something he had seen or heard and because of his traumatic experience, he was muddling up the facts and making something out of things that weren't.

Or at least that was what Arthur told himself as he tossed and turned about restlessly before he finally fell into a rather uncomfortable sleep.

Arthur awoke the next morning feeling horribly groggy and not at all prepared to face the day. He grumbled to himself and rubbed his eyes as he awoke, staring blearily at his surroundings.

He hadn't slept well at all last night; his mind was so utterly bogged down with thoughts that it was a wonder he'd managed to get even a few minutes worth of rest. He yawned hugely, covering his mouth as he did so before rising slowly, getting out of bed and fumbling for his uniform.

Today was Sunday. Blessed, blessed Sunday. The one day of the week that they weren't allowed to work. Praise the Lord for this one, indeed. Sundays didn't seem to happen often enough, in his opinion. He rolled one of his shoulders that was still a bit stiff from yesterday once he'd finished changing.

Now he simply stood there, shifting from foot to foot, not wanting to go into the hall. He wasn't certain how to face Alfred after their somewhat awkward conversation last night and was a little worried as to how Alfred was going to treat him in kind. But there was really no use in standing around and worrying about it, right? He had to leave the room or face punishment, anyway. So Arthur figured it was in his best interest to stop being a bloody coward and talk to his friend like there was nothing wrong at all.

Gathering up a bit of courage, Arthur headed into the hall to line up, glancing around over the sea of heads but saw no sign of Alfred. Even as they were called to order and told to head to the chapel for mass, still no sign of Alfred.

Once mass had ended and the group was awaiting their usual prayer session, Arthur craned his neck to search for his friend, frowning and feeling a small pit of worry lodge itself in his stomach. He couldn't have gotten in trouble again, right? Just the thought alone of the same thing happening to Alfred again nauseated him...

He was cut from his distracted thoughts by a sharp rap on the head, wincing as he glanced up with a slight frown, looking up into the falsely sweet face of Patsy Donovan.

"We cannot have people not paying their respect to our dear Lord on his holy day, can we now?"

Arthur sighed faintly. "No, madam."

She seemed satisfied and turned to head to the front of the room as Arthur frowned, moving his fingers to his head. The woman had hit him with the corner of the bible! Was that not sacrilegious? He'd be damned if it wasn't. (Well if it wasn't, it really should be.)

The dim light reflected off the dark curls in Mrs. Donovan's hair as she shifted slightly, leafing through several pages in the bible before clearing her throat.

"Now, we pray."

Arthur bowed his head, following etiquette properly as he should, but his mind was certainly elsewhere. His eyes were glued to the frilly hem of Patsy Donovan's dress and he couldn't focus on a word anyone was saying. Alfred wasn't in church...had he skipped, or had something really happened?

Prayer sessions seemed to go by in a flash, and the workers were free to go and praise the Lord on their own time.

Grateful to be able to finally leave, Arthur made haste in leaving, not looking back. He was, however, stopped by the feel of someone's icy fingers on his shoulder.

"Ah, you wait a moment, won't you dear?"

Arthur wasn't sure which unnerved him more - her sickly sweet voice or the coldness of her skin seeping through the worn fabric of his uniform.

He slowly turned, swallowing hard and schooling his features into a blank and impassive look. "Yes, madam?"

The corners of her mouth turned up slightly before she spoke again.

"Where is that...ah, friend of yours? You and he always seem to be joined at the hip."

Arthur's pulse quickened at the question as well as the simpering little smile she wore. Did the woman know something? For his own sake, Arthur had to pretend like he wasn't worried at all.

"Ah, I'm not entirely certain, madam. I'm afraid I last saw him before it was time for sleep. Perhaps he was attending mass in a different room?" He suggested innocently, forcing himself to meet her eyes briefly.

Look into her eyes. Know her intentions. Read her to the best of your ability; after all, the eyes are the window to one's soul.

At this, she actually frowned. "Very well then, you may go." Her tone was dismissive, and she seemed rather disappointed and perhaps a touch annoyed. She clearly hadn't gotten the answer she expected or wanted.

"Understood, madam."

Arthur did not hesitate in leaving, moving quickly so that she could not stop him for some other matter. Being alone with Patsy Donovan was almost worse than being alone with her husband...almost. He was very lucky he hadn't been subjected to her usual verbal torment; he'd more often than not seen many a grown man shedding tears after having a confrontation with the woman. Perhaps he was lucky, or perhaps he'd only dug Alfred and himself into an even deeper hole than they already were in with the couple. Ah, well. No use in worrying about that now.

For now, his biggest concern was Alfred. He paused in his walking, glancing about the halls as he pondered where to look. Shaking his head, he picked a hall at random, his eyes focused ahead but not really seeing anything, and before he knew it, he was pulled sideways and into someone's arms. Eyes widening, he kicked and struggled, unable to make a sound as his attacker had a hand over his mouth as well.

Physical strength was never one of his strong points, and whoever had him in their grip was undeniably very strong. Eventually he went limp as he heard a rather familiar voice in his ear.

"Artie, calm down. It's just me. Shh."

His expression of shock was replaced by a scowl as he reached for Alfred's hand over his mouth and tossed it away, receiving no resistance from his friend.

"What- what was that for?" He hissed, his voice a whisper. "What is with you lately? You sneak up on me, pull me into a..." He glanced around, unable to tell just what sort of room Alfred had pulled him into since the lighting was so poor, "...some sort of dank little room and you completely skipped out on mass, of course I was then questioned by our dear matron and you had me so worri - " He coughed, hoping he could cover that slip of the tongue, " - and you had me wondering where you went." He finished lamely.

Alfred was silent for a moment, and during this time, Arthur's eyes began to steadily adjust to the darkness. He could still see hardly anything but he could sort of see Alfred standing in front of him.

"Listen, Arthur. I..." He swallowed, his voice slightly shaky. "I don't think I can go to mass anymore."

Arthur frowned at this. "Don't be absurd, Alfred. You know full well what sorts of trouble you can get into - "

"I know, I know. It's just...it doesn't feel right." His gaze flicked up briefly to meet Arthur's before focusing on the floor. "Not after...well, not anymore."

Alfred was trying to turn away, but Arthur reached up to grasp his shoulders, forcing his friend to meet his gaze.

"Not after...not after what, Alfred?" He kept his tone firm and his gaze even firmer. He would get down to the bottom of whatever Alfred's problem was.

He sighed and shook his head. "You know how I said that Donovan...er, might have..." His voice trailed off into a mumble and Arthur nodded quickly, knowing what he was talking about.

"Yes, yes. What you were saying last night. Go on."

"That might be true, I wasn't lying about that. But I guess I left out another part of it. Um, you know, I..."

Arthur's fingers twitched in their grip on Alfred's shoulders.

"Go on." Arthur said quietly.

Alfred only sighed. "You may not want to be my friend any more after this. But after what Donovan did to me...I did some thinking. I did alot of thinking, actually. More than I ever had. You know, I never told you much about myself and you never told me much about yourself. And we were fine with that, weren't we? We both assumed that our pasts were too much to talk about. But...I have a brother. A younger brother. His...his name is Matthew." Alfred swallowed and took a few deep breaths before continuing. "We lived together. We had little money even though I was working almost all the time. I never even considered giving myself time for personal things, so I never even thought twice about pursuing a romantic relationship...or anything close to it. I liked it being just Matthew and I, even though we barely had anything...I was willing to give up anything I could possibly have if I could just keep what little happiness we had left alive." He was silent for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing before he continued.

"But then...Matthew, he got sick. I didn't know what to do. I couldn't remember feeling so helpless in my life. So I did what little I could do...sold our home away, used what little money we had to send him away with distant family and...well, now I'm here and you can figure out the rest for yourself." His voice grew uncharacteristically subdued by the time he was finished speaking. He looked up into Arthur's eyes.

"You know, Arthur...I like being friends with you, honest. I haven't had time for many close friends. Matthew was really my only friend, so I was glad. You were fun to annoy - "

At this, Arthur distinctly felt his eye twitch. Alfred smiled a ghost of a smile.

" - and you were generally an interesting person, aside from the fact that you act about three times your actual age sometimes."

Arthur gave Alfred's shoulders a firm and hopefully uncomfortable squeeze at this, and Alfred laughed nervously, but his smile slipped away completely as he spoke again.

"As much as I like being your friend, it took what Donovan did to me to make me see. It took a while, and I have done alot of thinking, so I'm pretty sure..." He took a breath again, closing his eyes for a moment as if he were mentally preparing himself. "I might have the same kinds of feelings towards you that I thought Donovan has. So I guess I'm everything he said I was. Sorry."

He lifted his hands to move Arthur's from his shoulders, but Arthur instead grabbed Alfred's wrist, shaking his head desperately.

"Alfred, are...are you serious?" Arthur honestly couldn't believe it. Alfred was thinking there was something wrong with him?

"You know, since you shared...I suppose it's only fair I do the same." He said slowly, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them and meeting Alfred's confused gaze as best he could.

"I was born into a wealthy family. The Kirklands were esteemed and honored, and I couldn't have been more proud to have been born under their bloodline."

"Arthur, you don't - "

"I had three older brothers and one younger, and two parents who were clever, talented, and well loved by everyone. My father was a talented businessman, and my mother was an exceptionally clever woman."

"Arthur - "

"Alfred. Let me finish." He met his gaze dead on this time, a sort of determination filling him that he didn't realize he had.

Alfred only nodded mutely now, halting his interruptions as Arthur began to speak again.

"I learned everything I know from my father. He taught me how to read people, he taught me the ways of business, he...even taught me how to handle women, but here is where things get...sticky." Arthur let out a steady breath. "My father was adamant about continuing the family bloodline. All of my older brothers were already married to decent young women and were off living their own lives, but I...I had never taken an interest in the women my father showed me. I suppose this was...because I was never interested in women in the first place. At first I always wondered why this was, but as time passed...it became clear to me. I couldn't fall in love with a woman. It simply would never happen. My father, of course, never knew this; he simply assumed I was a picky sort and laughed it off whenever I turned down his many suitors by telling me that it was well and good that I had such selective tastes."

Arthur kept his gaze trained on the floor now, not having the courage to meet Alfred's gaze until he was completely through with his story.

"So life went on. I took care of my brother when my parents were busy, I practiced business, I read and read quite alot; I lived the life of a noble. But one night, everything went utterly...wretched. My parents were out at one of their usual parties and they were murdered in cold blood. The details escape me now, but I...couldn't even imagine a life without my parents. So I went to live with my brothers. To sum it up, it didn't go well at all; we never did get on very well and they kicked me out quite abruptly after we had a row."

He was silent for a moment, still keeping his gaze on the floor. "And that's the long and short of it, I suppose. So now I'm here and here I'll stay for only God knows how long."

"Artie."

He forced himself to look up at Alfred's face. His eyes were soft and his expression was still so serious.

"You know, Alfred...I've had something wrong with me for quite a long time now and I've kept it from you. For that, I apologize. But I want you to know, there's no reason for you to consider yourself strange. But you really...feel that way about me?" He asked, his voice quiet.

"Yes...really. I do. I may be dense, but I'm honest when it counts." He smiled weakly.

"Damn it all." Arthur murmured. "I suppose I should say I return the sentiments, hm? Though I suppose it was a bit obvious considering the story I told you..."

"Honestly? I feel much better now that we've both gotten that out." Alfred's smile was still rather small, but it was just as brilliant as ever and something about it warmed Arthur.

"As do I." He leaned forward and placed his forehead against Alfred's shoulder, exhaling wearily. He hadn't told anyone about his parents' deaths since he had to tell Peter. And that was honestly much harder than it had been to tell Alfred.

Alfred wrapped a gentle arm around his shoulders in return, and they stayed that way for a moment until Alfred shifted uncomfortably. Arthur smiled softly.

"Shall we get out of this miserable little room? I fear I will not be able to look at sunlight again without going blind now. What exactly is this room anyway?" He glanced around as Alfred headed to the door.

"Honestly? I'm not sure. But it doesn't smell that nice in here, so let's go." He took Arthur's hand, a smile flitting about his lips as the two of them stepped out of what appeared to have been some sort of old broom cupboard.

Arthur offered a small smile in return, giving Alfred's hand a light squeeze.

For now, he was satisfied. He was glad for this turn of events, even if it would cause nothing but problems in the future.

The two headed to their rooms, entirely oblivious to their surroundings and high on the feeling of requited love.

So much so that they failed to notice the person that paused to watch them go, gazing at their backs with glinting black eyes the same way a snake might watch its prey.

Love me? Hate me? Glad I finally freaking updated?

As am I! Hopefully I'll be on a roll from now on. Pardon the extreme lateness, but fun plot for this story, here I come!

I don't have much to say other than I hope the next update will come much, much quicker.

As always, hope you all enjoyed and please review! Feed me reviews like you feed a parrot crackers and you may just get me to spit out a lovely new chapter for you all in no time :D

...No, I'm not saying I'm bribed by reviews. Whatever gives you that idea?