Months went by, and Matthew got the feeling that he ought to get used to people approaching him with ridiculous ideas. First it was Alfred's insistence that he go on a blind date –which had worked out in Matthew's favor, but still- then it was Gilbert's suggestion of a pancake dinner, right along with every other outlandish date idea he had over the months. Matthew was positive things could not get any more inane than the haunted house or the DJ disaster. But now that Gilbert was standing in front of him, phone open to the city's webpage, grinning like a child on Christmas, he knew was in for another bizarre adventure.

"You want to go to a carnival? Isn't it a little early in the year?"

"Come on, Birdie, it'll be awesome! Besides, it's getting warmer." Gilbert returned his unblinking eyes to the screen, nearly bouncing with excitement alone. Matthew smiled as he looked over his shoulder and read along. His enthusiasm was kind of endearing, really. "Hey, they even have one of those rides where you get in that cage it spins you around!"

Matthew could not help but think the picture he was looking at resembled medieval torture rather than entertainment. "You want me to get on that thing? It doesn't look very safe."

Gilbert scoffed. "Don't be a Ludwig, Mattie. Last time I got him to an amusement park he gave me a lecture on the statistical probability of a rollercoaster falling of the track." He paused, looked up slowly and raised an eyebrow. "It's… a lot more likely than you would think, actually."

Matthew decided to ignore that, for his own sake. "I went to a carnival with Alfred once. He screamed on all the rides, ate his weight in corndogs, and threw up on Arthur's shoes. He could barely speak for days."

"You know, your brother sounds like he'd be pretty awesome when he's not threatening to put me in a coma." Then Gilbert smiled even more manically than before, his eyes flashing almost wickedly. "Wait. Let's bring them."

Matthew could not picture anything more disastrous. "You want to go to a carnival, and you want to bring our brothers."

"Absolutely!" said Gilbert, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "And Feli, and Arthur. Call it a triple date."

"A triple date from hell, maybe."

"We did this at the nightclub and we all came out alive, remember? Arthur won't even be drinking this time. Probably." Gilbert threw his arm over Matthew's shoulders and dialed with his free hand. "What's the worst that could happen?"

.

Matthew had forgotten just how crowded these places could be. All around him were loud, tightly packed groups of people, laughing and eating, running and bumping into him. Colorful lights illuminated the night sky, the smell of fried food wafted through the air. It was an assault on all of his senses. Still, with Gilbert clutching his hand, laughing boisterously with Alfred as Feliciano tried to force feed Ludwig cotton candy to the other side of him, he could not say he was too eager to get away.

"Alfred, honestly, will you quit eating? We've barely been here ten minutes!" Arthur attempted, unsuccessfully, to snatch the hotdog from Alfred's hand. Alfred just laughed, and Arthur groaned. "Fine, but I'm not sitting with you on any rides. This is brand new pair of trousers."

"Don't be ridiculous, Arthur. Us Americans have stomachs of steel! Isn't that right, Mattie?" Matthew was halfway through saying something to Gilbert, so Alfred balled up the checked napkin he was holding and threw it as his head with Babe Ruth-like precision.

"Hey!" exclaimed Matthew in protest, though he was fighting the urge to laugh.

"Don't ignore me!" whined Alfred, halfway through stuffing the remainder of the hotdog in his mouth. "Well, at least I got you to stop making googly-eyes at Gil." Alfred ducked at Gilbert swung for his head, Feliciano burst into uncontrollable giggles, and Ludwig exchanged an exhausted look with Arthur. Matthew just watched in silent amusement.

Feliciano practically squealed as Ludwig finally allowed him to feed him a piece of cotton candy. Then he glanced around excitedly, and launched into a disjointed rant. "Oh, wow! The lights are so pretty at night! What ride do you want to do on first, Ludwig? Oh, look, there are games and the prizes are so cute, they even have kitties! We should win one for Kiku, I wish he was here, don't you wish he was here?"

Alfred brightened at the name. He and Kiku had a brief relationship in high school, and had long since been friends. "It's been, like, an ice age since I've seen Kiku. Is he still with Zeus?"

Ludwig and Feliciano stared at him blankly. "What?" A second passed, and Ludwig's eyebrows shot up in bewildered understanding. "Do you… Do you mean Heracles?"

"Oh yeah, that's the one. I was close!"

Arthur scoffed and threw his hands up. "You weren't even remotely close!"

"It's all Greek to me." Alfred barely finished the sentence before he started to laugh again, thoroughly amused by his own joke.

"Anyway," said Ludwig loudly, "Yes, he is."

"Good to hear! He and Kiku were made for each other, dude. I think it's the cat thing. Hey, I remember one time when we were together, Kiku wanted me to put these ear things on before we-" Alfred broke off when Arthur gasped indignantly, ripped his hand from his, and swatted him over the back of the head. Alfred fumbled for his falling glasses. "What?"

"Still think this was a good idea?" Matthew whispered to Gilbert, flushed with secondhand embarrassment.

Gilbert struggled to speak through his muffled laughter. "Actually, I think this is the best idea I've had in a long time." He pulled Matthew a few steps from the group with a tug of the hand, distancing them from the jumbled bickering and laughter. "So, what do you want to do first?"

"Um…" Matthew paused. He had grown to be quite skilled at discriminating between things that would cause him embarrassment and things that wouldn't, but at a place like this, just about anything was possible. He took a breath, saw how Gilbert's eyes caught the twinkling lights, and decided not to let his anxiety speak for him for once. "How about a ride?"

Gilbert practically cheered, thrusting their joined hands into the air. "Yes! Awesome!" He looked over his shoulder and shouted, "Hey losers, me and Birdie are going to go find a ride. What are you all planning to do?"

"I'm so hungry, I want to get something to eat!" Feliciano clung to Ludwig's arm and surveyed the food booths. "Luddy, do you think they have pasta?"

"Probably not, I'm afraid."

"I'm guessing they don't have potatoes or bratwurst, either. What a tragedy. Try to console him, Feliciano," said Gilbert. He elbowed Matthew and smirked. "Probably no pancakes. Please don't cry."

Matthew could not even help himself- he actually stuck out his tongue. "Please. I'm surprised you aren't a wreck over the lack of alcohol."

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "What do you take me as, exactly? I'm not Arthur!"

"I heard that!" shouted Arthur.

"Oh, lighten up, Artie." Alfred suddenly stopped walking and grabbed Arthur's arm so forcefully he nearly fell over. "Hey, look! A basketball game! Come on babe, the hero is going to win you a stuffed animal."

"I'm a grown man, I don't even want a stuffed animal!" But Arthur's protests were met with only laughter, and before Matthew could even turn around, both of them had disappeared.

Feliciano pointed in the opposite direction. "Look, Ludwig! Funnel cakes!"

"Those have no nutritional value!" protested Ludwig. But he allowed himself to be pulled along by Feliciano anyway, who rambled excitedly the entire time.

Gilbert watched them walk away with a bemused smirk. "Mein gott, he's whipped." He looked to his sides, realized they were the only two left, and said, "Well, so much for the triple date idea."

"Did you really expect to maintain any kind of order?" Once the chaos cleared, Matthew became aware of his surroundings again. Now that his safety blanket of friends had split in nearly every direction, he felt very, very exposed. He wondered momentarily if they entire population of the country had somehow ended up at this carnival. It certainly felt that way. "There sure is a lot of people," he whispered.

Gilbert dropped Matthew's hand, put his arm around his waist, and pulled him close. "Just stick by me, Birdie. Everything is going to be A-Okay." He smiled then, and Matthew instantly felt just a bit relieved. Somehow, the fact he was not making a big deal out of it only made things better. "Now, which ride should we go on?"

"Something that won't kill us, preferably." Matthew was not sure if wanted to admit it, but he was actually pretty excited to try a few of these things out. He hadn't been anywhere near a carnival in years. "Oh, how about that one you told me about?"

"The zipper!" Gilbert's eyes flashed frantically, and within seconds he was pointing at this supposed 'zipper.' "Ah, there it is. Let's go!"

.

About ten minutes, a rush of adrenaline, and a deafening amount of shrieking later, Matthew was sure of only a handful of things. One, he had forgotten how much he actually did like rollercoasters. Two, Gilbert did not seem to share that opinion. And three, his hand was probably broken, and there was a good possibility he was now deaf in his left ear.

Matthew did not think it was possible for Gilbert to get anymore pale, but around the fifth time the cage they were sitting in got flipped upside down, he was proven wrong. He never thought he would be quite this silent, either. "Well, I thought it was fun," said Matthew finally, looking down at Gilbert's still-colorless face under the twinkling lights. He had his head in his lap, and it seemed as though he had no intention of moving- or maybe he was simply too nauseous too.

Gilbert blinked. "We could have died."

"You said that about the haunted house." Matthew laughed lightly and ran his fingers though Gilbert's wind-tousled hair. "I'm pretty sure the fatality rate is around zero percent for both of those things."

"Yeah, around zero." The faintest of grins appeared on Gilbert's lips. "At least I didn't puke."

"You were close." Matthew noticed there was in fact a little color in Gilbert's cheeks by now…it was green, but still. "I thought you weren't afraid of rollercoasters, Gil! I'm a bit disappointed."

"Who said anything about afraid?" Even from his position on Matthew's lap, Gilbert still managed to sound arrogant and triumphant. His gleaming smile matched his tone. "I was screaming out of excitement! I think my reaction was awesomely manly. If anyone was scared, it was you, Birdie."
Matthew ignored that last comment and smiled innocently. "Hey, if you loved it so much, let's go again."

Gilbert swallowed hard, and the tint of green in his face grew slightly more visible. "Better idea," he said quickly, "I'll get us some funnel cake! Those things are delicious."

Though he was surprised Gilbert was in any mood to eat, Matthew nodded. He hadn't been to a carnival in years, and the last time he had eaten any type of carnival food must have been even further back. The smell of fried food was beginning to drive him insane. "Sounds great. Do you want me to come with?"

Gilbert lifted his head from Matthew's lap and sat up. Thankfully, he no longer looked green or on the verge of passing out. "Nah, that's alright. Stay here and save our seats. I'll be right back."

He stood, pressed a quick kiss to Matthew's cheek, and walked into a mass of people in the direction of the food stalls. Matthew watched him until he could no longer be seen in the dark, smiling as his pulse quickened pleasantly. No matter how ridiculous of an idea this had been, he had absolutely no complaints. He giggled to himself as the thought passed. It seemed there was a bit of a pattern, here.

About a minute passed, Matthew occupying himself with watching the people walk past the picnic table, catching bits and pieces of their excited conversations. The cover of darkness was comforting. He could breathe easily, think easily, even in the midst of this crowded, noisy place. For a moment he was almost proud of himself. Just a few months ago, something like this would have been absolutely out of the question. Matthew looked up into the starry sky, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath as the cool air blew past his face. How strange it was, how quickly things could change…

"Alfred?"

Matthew opened his eyes and looked instinctively to either side. He hadn't a clue where his brother actually was, and now that he thought about it, it was probably about time he found him. But Alfred was nowhere to be found, and Matthew quickly realized that voice was too familiar. His stomach fell to his feet as he turned to face the direction it came from. "Oh." Suddenly, his voice was nowhere to be found. All he could say was, "I'm not Alfred." Funny… Matthew had almost allowed himself to believe he was done with that phrase.

It had been over a year, yet he looked exactly the same. Carlos was dressed how he had since Matthew had known him, in shorts and a Hawaiian shirt- that he now noticed was rather garish, now that his inherent bias was gone- and he was holding an ice cream cone that dripped on his large, tanned hands. All of it was too familiar, too close to home, and reminded Matthew of too many things he would rather forget.

You're just too sick, Matthew!

"Oh, Matthew! Sorry, it's dark." But unlike what Matthew had believed to be the last time they spoke, Carlos sounded casual and calm. As if the end of their relationship had not been ugly. As if none of it had ever happened to begin with. He shrugged, and Matthew felt a boil in his blood. This was not the first time Carlos had made that mistake. At least this time he had the decency not to make it in broad daylight. That seemed to be where his decency ended, however. "Hey, can you blame me? I never would have expected you to be in a place like this. Isn't it a little too public for you?"

He chuckled at that, and Matthew wished he could dissolve into his seat. This was still a joke to him. A two-year relationship, over a year of being apart, and Carlos still did not understand. Matthew wondered if he had ever even tried. "I don't know," he nearly whispered. His voice shook in spite of himself. "I'm just waiting for my boyfriend to get back." Matthew emphasized the word for reasons he wasn't sure of. All he knew was that he wished Gilbert would hurry up and get back to him very, very soon.

"Boyfriend?" Carlos whistled. "Wow, the guy must be a miracle worker if he got you out here. God knows I never could."

Matthew was not sure how to respond. In the silence that followed, he took notice of the two unfamiliar men standing close to Carlos. They must have been his friends. No matter who they were, all that mattered was Matthew did not know them, and they were staring at him. He felt his face flush and his breathing hitch, more so than what was normal for simple embarrassment.

Carlos continued before Matthew could utter a single word. "Anyway, how have you been? Are you still afraid to go outside?" He actually sounded sincere, though the sincerity was completely misplaced and hit like a fist. The men he was with chuckled. Matthew's throat closed.

"I was never…" Matthew scrambled for an explanation, one that would be of any use to someone who simply did not care to understand, and evidently he found nothing. If he could not get Carlos to understand in two years, he sure as hell couldn't get him to understand in two minutes. The twinkling lights above him began to spin. The eyes of the men burned into him, judging, always judging, because Matthew was too, too sick and moments like this proved just how obvious it was. "I…" Words were useless.

Matthew sometimes wished that he actually were Alfred, the man he was mistaken for based on looks alone- it was not as if anyone could ever get their personalities confused- so for once he could be outgoing and fun to be around and normal. This was one of those times. If all else failed, he simply wanted to disappear. Because he could not think of a simple word to say, because this was ridiculous, and any other person would see it as a simple annoyance. But Matthew was not most people. The painful rush in his pulse and the rocks in his lungs made that painfully obvious.

"Hey, sorry about that. The line was super long and totally not awesome, but that's okay because these things look amazing and-" There was a brief, understanding pause. "These friends of yours, Birdie? What's going on?"

Gilbert's uneven, boisterous voice might as well have been music, but it was too late. Matthew could barely even hear him. He could not hear anything over the heartbeat in his ears, the constant, deafening memory in his head. You're just too sick, Matthew! Really, this was not even panic. If anything, Matthew was… ashamed. It was not an unfamiliar feeling. Finally, though the fast heartbeat and shaking hands and blurry vision, he forced his voice to work. "Gil, this is Carlos."

"Ah." With that, Gilbert visibly understood. Matthew had mostly avoided speaking about Carlos, but Gilbert at least knew who he was, and judging by the way he straightened his posture that was enough. He lifted his chin and hardened his gaze, which probably would have been intimidating if Carlos wasn't a head taller than him and Gilbert hadn't been carrying two greasy plates of funnel cake. "What brings you here?"

"I was simply enjoying this lovely night with my friends when I ran into Matthew!" Carlos brushed one of his dreadlocks over his shoulder and shot Matthew an easy grin, and Gilbert took a slight, possibly unconscious step closer to the picnic table. "You must be the boyfriend he mentioned. Tell me, Gil, how did you convince him to leave that apartment of his?"

"Gilbert to you," said Gilbert under his breath. He set the paper plates on the table, folded his arms and lifted his gaze to look Carlos in the eye. "Look, all that matters is he's here now, alright? He's here with me. And we were just about to enjoy the culinary masterpieces this place has to offer, so…" He flicked his head sharply in the other direction.

Carlos chuckled and lifted a hand in resignation. "I think I understand. Say hello to your idiot brother for me, Mattie." Matthew watched as Carlos started in the other direction, and he was almost able to catch his breath before he added, "Glad to see you're not a complete shut-in anymore!"

He said it with the upmost of flippancy, and somehow, it was far worse than if he had said it vindictively. Matthew turned back to the wore picnic table to hide his flushed face, to block out Carlos's existence, to block out everyone's existence. Familiar embarrassment-laced anxiety set in, and suddenly the calm he had felt just minutes ago felt very far off. The words lingered in the night air like a threat. This, just like much of what had just occurred, was entirely too familiar.

Gilbert's voice broke Matthew from the torrent of old memories. "Unbelievable." He sat down with a huff, picked up a plastic fork and stabbed the pastry in front of him like it was personally offensive to him. "You dated that asshole?"

"He's not really an asshole." Matthew looked down at his plate. Though he had been starving ten minutes ago, he found he had spontaneously lost his appetite. "He can just be a little… dense."

Gilbert snorted. "Right. He seems like the type."

Matthew picked up the fork lying in the midst of the powdered sugar, noticed his hands were shaking, and sighed. Part of him was glad he had at least managed to avoid panic, but a much larger part of him was wondering why any of this had affected him at all. It was not as if Carlos was dangerous. If anything, the Cuban was the personification of a teddy bear. Maybe it was his unintentionally snide comments that were getting to him, maybe it was how easily he had always dismissed Matthew's condition… or maybe there was no reason at all.

"Hey, you alright?"

Matthew blinked away his contemplation and looked sharply to the side. "Yeah," he said, avoiding Gilbert's lightly concerned expression. "Just a little shaken, I guess. I wasn't exactly expecting that."

Gilbert shrugged. "Understandable. Nothing you can do, I guess." His eyes flicked to the side, and a bright grin appeared on his face. "I think I know something that might get your mind off things."

Matthew chewed a forkful of funnel cake and furrowed his brow. "Huh?"

"It's a surprise. Just enjoy your cake."

Matthew hesitated, shrugged, and continued to eat. Surprises were beginning to become familiar, too, each varying in pleasantness and intensity. Seeing Carlos had not been the most pleasant of surprises. But it was not a surprise that the cake was delicious, or that Gilbert looked pretty cute with powdered sugar dusting his cheek.

.

"Gil, this really isn't necessary…"

"Of course it is!"

"What am I even going to do with it?"

"Whatever you want! Hey, if Alfred is doing this for Arthur, of all people, I can sure as hell do it for you."

Matthew sighed in resignation, leaned against the wooden frame of the booth, and watched as Gilbert hurled a dart at a neon balloon with ten times the amount of force than what was actually necessary. Despite his assassin-like enthusiasm, he missed and hit the corkboard behind it. Gilbert pursed his lips. "Ah, damn." He shrugged and handed the man running the booth a few more crumpled dollar bills. With a wink at Matthew that bordered on obnoxious but managed to be endearing, he continued, "That was a warm-up. I got this."

The words began to lose their meaning after about ten dollars, a series of frustrated groans, and an amount of throws Matthew gave up on counting. Considering Gilbert's aim, it was actually a miracle the man running the booth wasn't fatally injured. There were definitely a few close calls. Before another attempt that would very likely go as well as the last thousand, he took a step forward and took Gilbert's wrist. "Can I try?" he asked, all innocence and naivety. If only for affect, he smiled with a slight tilt of the head.

Gilbert raised an eyebrow but nodded anyway. "Sure, why not." He passed the dart off the Matthew, something akin to skepticism in his eyes. "Don't worry about it if you miss, Birdie."

Matthew resisted the urge to aim at his face. Maybe it was the immature urge to prove him wrong, maybe it out of leftover adrenaline from the encounter with Carlos or maybe it was just pure luck, but with one sharp flick of the wrist, Matthew sent the plastic dart directly into the middle of a balloon with sniper-esque precision. Gilbert looked slightly scared. "Oh, look at that." Matthew turned to Gilbert and giggled. "I won."

"I…guess you did." Gilbert blinked away his slightly bewildered expression and brought his hand to his chest as if he was performing in a play. "You must have taken some pointers from my technique!"

"No, not really."

Gilbert instantly deflated. "You could give me some credit…" He trailed off, cleared his throat and shook his head as if to physically real in his ego. Matthew kissed him on the cheek and tried not to laugh. Just like that, Gilbert was grinning again. "Well, that happened. Time to choose your prize, Birdie."

"Oh." Matthew looked to the stuffed animals hanging like ornaments above them. He suddenly felt a little silly, but his inner child was not allowing him to take himself all that seriously tonight. With a lift of the hand, he pointed to the one ridiculous toy out of dozens that kept catching his eye. "How about the white bear?"

"Excellent choice," said the man behind the counter, flashing them a yellowed smile. He plucked the bear from the string it hung from like an apple from a tree and tossed it to Matthew. The faux fur was surprisingly soft in his hands.

"Oh, awesome!" Gilbert patted the bear on the head, almost as if it was a real, live animal. "I should have guessed you're a bear person. Is it a Canadian thing?"

Matthew tucked the bear under his arm and rolled his eyes, though if he was going to be completely honest with himself, Gilbert wasn't really wrong. He took his hand and started walking. It was about time they find the others, after all. "Probably."

"You should give him a name." Gilbert stared out into the starry sky as they wandered aimlessly, thinking. "It should definitely be something manly, like Friedrich, The Awesome-"

"No," said Matthew quickly. He was almost afraid where Gilbert might have been going with that. "How about…" He considered a series of possibilities, some serious, some absurd, but no matter what he thought up his mind always stubbornly returned to what managed to be both obscure and obvious at the same time. Finally, Matthew shrugged and said, "Kuma."

Gilbert tipped his head. "Kuma?"

"Alfred used to date this guy from Japan. He taught me a few words. Kuma means, uh…" Matthew looked towards the ground and smiled, slightly embarrassed. "Bear."

After a brief pause, it visibly clicked and Gilbert laughed. "Oh, wow."

"Hey, I guarantee it's better than whatever you were about to say. What was it? Fred, the incredible-"

"First off, it was Friedrich, and the word was 'awesome.' If you're going to mock me at least do it right." Gilbert nudged Matthew with his elbow. "Now, since you're going to name the poor thing bear, for god's sake, at least spice it up a little. Kuma-something or another."

"Fine." Matthew wracked his memory for the first Japanese word he could think of, if only to stick with the theme. He didn't even remember what it meant or if the words made any semblance of sense together, but he supposed it hardly mattered. "Kumajiro."

Gilbert threw his hand in the air. "Sure, why not! Could be worse." He leaned in front of Matthew, somehow meeting Kuma's unseeing plastic gaze. "Hi, Kumagyro."

Matthew narrowed his eyes. "I don't think that was it."

"Oh, what was it?"

"It was…" Matthew trailed off. Suddenly his mind was blank. "I… don't remember, actually."

And he had no time to remember, because a loud, boisterous voice smashed his train of thought. "Mattie, bro, we finally found you!"

Matthew turned to see Alfred barreling towards him, cotton candy in one hand and Arthur's shirtsleeve in the other- Matthew thought it was Arthur, at least. The two-dozen stuffed animals in his arms made it quite difficult to tell. "Did you seriously win all of those?"

"Yep! Nothing but the best for my Arthur." Alfred eyed Kuma and smirked. "Just one? Geez, Gilbert, step your game up."

Gilbert narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth, but he was cut off. "Bloody hell, Alfred, what sensible person needs more than one of these things?" shouted Arthur from behind the rainbow mound of button eyes and felt. "Having these things laying around our house would be an absolute eyesore. We're donating them."

Alfred stopped smiling and stuck out his bottom lip. "Aw, Artie! I thought you really liked the big unicorn."

Arthur paused, readjusted his hold on something in the pile and trailed off in a mumble. "Well, it would be rather rude not to keep one of the blasted things…"

Gilbert blinked, leaned next to Matthew's ear and whispered, "Is your brother even human?"

"I've asked myself that more than once." Matthew pulled his eyes from the ridiculous scene in front of him and scanned the area. "Speaking of brothers, where on earth is yours?"

"Here, we're here," said a tired, slightly exasperated voice from a short distance away. Ludwig soon appeared next to them, and after further inspection Matthew realized that he was carrying Feliciano on his back. Feliciano had his eyes closed, his head against Ludwig's shoulder, and a suspicious hint of green in his cheeks. Ludwig must have noticed Matthew's perplexed expression. "Feliciano ate his weight in funnel cake and corndogs." He sighed as if he had not slept in two years, then shrugged in what looked like acceptance and adjusted his hold on Feliciano's legs. "Are you doing alright, Feli?"

Feliciano looked near catatonic, but he managed an intelligible grunt of recognition. "Mmph."

"At least he's showing signs of life." Alfred laughed in that uninhibited way he was known for, plucked a stuffed cat off the pile Arthur was struggling to hold and tossed it in Ludwig's direction. "Hey, give this to Kiku and Poseidon for me, will ya?" The worst part was he sounded serious.

Ludwig, having no free hands, groaned when the toy hit the ground in front of him. "Heracles, Alfred. The man's name is Heracles!"

"Oh, whoops."

Matthew retrieved the cat and pressed it into Feliciano's limp hand. Thankfully, he managed to get a grip on it. "Well, it's getting late," he said. "Should we get going?"

Alfred groaned. "Oh, come on. We all came here together and we haven't done one thing as a group!"

"True," said Gilbert. "Well, considering how much of a mess we all look like right now, I propose we do something tame before we hit the road."

Arthur and Ludwig responded in near perfect unison. "Agreed."

"How about a classic?" Alfred put one hand on his hip and signaled spastically with the other. "The Ferris wheel!"

"Sounds safe enough," said Ludwig, ignoring the way Feliciano was making the stuffed cat walk across his shoulders.

Gilbert looked into the distance, his smile fading and hand lifting to the back of his head. He almost sounded reluctant as he mumbled, "Oh, that's kind of lame…"

Alfred snorted. "Don't be a loser."

Matthew ignored his brother. "Is something wrong, Gil?"

Gilbert snapped back to attention, his eyes wide and his grin suddenly resurfacing. "No!" he nearly shouted, a little too loudly. "No, of course not, it just seems like a kiddy thing!"

Ludwig rolled his eyes. "Gilbert, you really have no room to talk. I believe I caught you watching Spongebob this morning."

"And you started watching it with me!" Gilbert shot back. Ludwig ignored him, Matthew covered his laughter with hand, and Gilbert rolled his eyes. "Alright, alright, let's just go!"

After Arthur managed to unload the hoard of stuffed animals into their car and Ludwig was able to coax Feliciano back on his feet, Matthew found himself sitting in a metal passenger car, Gilbert's arm around his shoulders and Kuma sitting securely in his lap. Despite how chaotic, draining and downright strange the day had been, Matthew felt completely at peace. He gazed into the seemingly endless sky above him and took a cleansing breath. "Beautiful night, isn't it?"

"Sure is," said Gilbert, even though his eyes were locked on the floor of the car. That was a bit strange, but Matthew brushed it off. "Okay, admit it. This was a great idea."

Matthew considered that for a moment, then gave a short, dry laugh that was barely more than a breath. "There were a few hiccups." His thoughts wandered to Feliciano leaning near comatose on Ludwig a few cars down, Arthur's annoyance with the whole ordeal, Carlos…but all of it was overshadowed by Alfred's dopey enthusiasm, Ludwig's loving patience, and Gilbert's sheer will to make it all perfect. In the grand scheme of things, he had succeeded. "But yes, it was a wonderful idea, Gil."

"Thought so. I knew it would be." Gilbert said it with the arrogance Matthew would expect from him, but when he leaned back against his seat and pulled Matthew closer to his side, the subtle grin on his face made him look accomplished…perhaps even relieved.

The wheel continued to spin, conversation died down, and soon there was nothing left but squeaking metal and soft music filtering in from the distance. It was so pacifying that Matthew could not help his eyes from drifting shut. The song continued, the rhythm continued, the way Gilbert was tracing slow circles on his arm continued… until everything suddenly stopped, all at once and without warning, with a rather sickening creak and a series of startled screams. Matthew opened his eyes with a jolt. It took a moment to click, but when he did, he had to laugh.

"This thing is stuck." Matthew leaned forward, looked down, and realized they were not only stuck, but stuck at the very top. "Oh my god, this thing is seriously stuck." He giggled again at that. His life really was a bad movie these days. Then he shrugged, leaned back in his seat and looked at the lights down below. They would get down soon enough, he was sure. "It's a great view, isn't it?"

He waited for a response, but Gilbert was strangely silent beside him. Matthew glanced to the side, confused, and was shocked to see Gilbert had managed to grow even paler. His expression was blank. Matthew tried again to get his attention. "Gil?"

There was a very long, very strange pause, until Gilbert's eyes shot wide open and he whisper-shouted, "Oh my god this is the worst idea I've ever had oh my god Birdie…"

Matthew blinked. "What?"

This time, Gilbert really did shout. "WE'RE GOING TO DIE UP HERE!" Matthew jumped in his seat, pressing himself against the side of the car out of shock alone, barely able to register what was happening before Gilbert starting shouting again. Thankfully it was not quite as loud this time. "Shit, Mattie, what if this thing breaks?"

"I mean, I really don't think it would-"

Gilbert made the mistake of looking down, and immediately took a sharp, erratic breath. "We're going to fall, Gott, we're either going to stay up here until we starve to death or plummet to our deaths, oh god which of those would be worse?"

Gilbert kept speaking, words growing indistinguishable, and Matthew could only sit still and try, to no avail, to get a word in edgewise. For a long moment all he could feel was confusion. Since they met, Gilbert had presented himself as nothing but cool, calm, collected- despite his tendency to embarrass himself, but he even managed to cover that well enough- and out of nowhere, he was a mess and making no attempts to hide it. After a moment's consideration, Matthew came to a rather startling conclusion that probably should have been obvious from the beginning.

"Gil…are you afraid of heights?"

Another pause, another glance, another sharp, shaking breath. Gilbert closed his eyes and nodded, so slowly it was as if it physically pained him to do so.

Then, Matthew understood exactly what was going on. The way Gilbert was breathing, his restlessness, how the color had drained from his face… all of it was far too familiar. He should have known Gilbert was not immune. "We're safe up here," said Matthew, scrambling for something helpful. He was not used to being on the other side of this. "These things get stuck all the time. I bet it'll be… ten minutes before it starts moving again. Tops."

"I know, I know, I just…" Gilbert cut himself off and shook his head. He gripped his knees so tightly his knuckles turned white, exhaled sharply and spoke in a breath. "It just freaks me out."

He looked apologetic, as if he did not understand his own explanation. Matthew understood that almost painfully well. After all, he did not understand why ordering at a restaurant felt like facing a firing squad, or why picking up a phone felt like holding an active grenade. It just did. This was no different. "I know." Matthew brought his arms behind Gilbert's trembling back, held his head to his chest and rested a hand in his wild white hair. It was moments like these that Matthew was grateful he was actually a couple inches taller. "God, I know. You don't have to explain."

"Verdammt, this is embarrassing." Gilbert's words fell against the front of Matthew's shirt, muddled and quiet. "What would I do without you?"

Matthew wondered the same about Gilbert on a near-daily basis. If it was not for him, it was certain he would not be here right now. He would be in his apartment, alone, nothing but pathetic self-help books and bad reality television and unpleasant memories to keep him company. "I guess we found each other for a reason," said Matthew before he realized how unbelievably cheesy that sounded. Oh well.

"Yeah, I guess so." Gilbert's voice was unsteady. His trembling hand tensed around his knee, and Matthew covered it with his. "Christ, I need a distraction or something. Got any stories?"

Matthew suddenly wished his life were a lot more interesting than it was. He thought back to all the stories Gilbert had told him about the nightclub, about fights and fires and explosions caused by stray raccoons. Nothing like that happened at the bookstore. However, that bookstore was full of stories, and Matthew had no problem going to fiction. "A fairytale," he said, a script forming rather quickly in his mind. "About a brave knight, and a princess- a prince, locked in a tower."

"Wow, how original." Gilbert gave a short, uneasy laugh. "Keep going."

"Once upon a time, there was a knight. He had hair like snow, eyes like wine, and the biggest ego in all of the land." Matthew could barely keep from laughing. "His name was Sir Gil the Awesome."

Matthew felt Gilbert smile against his chest. "I think I like this story."

Matthew just smiled and kept going. "Then, one day, word got out that there was a prince stuck in a tower. The tower was made entirely out of cheesy self-help books, and it was all held together by about seven-hundred pounds of maple syrup." More laughter rose in his chest, and this time, Matthew allowed it to pass his lips. It felt nice to laugh at himself for once. "Of course, no one but Sir Gil was gallant enough to save this prince. So, he got on his…" Matthew glanced at his lap, "…giant polar bear, and set off towards the tower. He was determined to make all of Germany-"

"Prussia."

"To make all of Prussia proud. So, Sir Gil and his polar bear Kumanaru made it all the way to the tower, but there was a problem."

"I'll bite." Gilbert's voice had grown lighter. "What was the problem?"

"The problem," Matthew paused for dramatic effect, "was that when he stood outside the tower and called out for the prince, the prince wouldn't answer him." There was a sudden drop in his stomach. Matthew looked away, and spoke to the stars. "That was when Sir Gil realized something. No one had ever asked the prince why he was in that tower to begin with. The more he tried to talk to the prince, day after day, the clearer it got… there was no reason he was there at all. There was no ancient curse, no evil king, no dragon. Really, that stupid book tower wasn't even built well. The prince was up there out of choice. He was afraid to leave."

Gilbert said nothing. Matthew could feel that his breathing had evened and his trembling had stopped, but he was still silent, and his grip on Matthew's hand had only gotten tighter.

Matthew blinked away the inexplicable tears in his eyes. He had not even noticed them. "So, one day," Matthew noticed his voice was quivering. He quickly cleared his throat. "Sir Gil got tired of waiting and just… broke the tower. All he had to do was pull out a couple of those useless, sticky books, and the whole thing just fell down." The lights below them were beginning to blur, so Matthew blinked rapidly and spoke though his throat felt thick. "What he didn't know was that the prince had actually spent years building his tower, all by himself, no matter how many people told him it was stupid. It was the only place he felt safe."

Gilbert exhaled slowly and mumbled, "What an asshole."

"It wasn't that Sir Gil was an asshole, though. He was just impatient, and impulsive, and he didn't understand the prince yet." Matthew lifted a hand and wiped the few stray tears that had managed to leak from his eyes. "So, the prince is sitting there, kind of sad and a little bit angry, in the remains of what used to be his safe little tower…" He paused, and after a silent, contemplative second, he smiled. "And he realized it was a piece of shit."

Slowly, Gilbert lifted his face from Matthew's chest. "It was?"

"Absolutely!" Matthew threw his hands up and laughed almost manically. "The prince realized, after all these years, how stupid it was to sit in that sticky tower all day and wonder what the rest of the world was like. Even though he was scared, he wanted to actually see the world." His short-lived hysteria ended, and Matthew reached forward and held the sides of Gilbert's face in his hands. His voice grew quieter. "So, Sir Gil took the prince- Prince Birdie- and road off into the sunset on Kumatiro the polar bear."

Suddenly, it did not even matter that they were stuck on the top of this blasted Ferris wheel. Matthew pressed his lips to Gilbert's, and nothing else mattered. "Then," said Matthew as he pulled away, his voice a whisper. "They saw the world."

At that same moment, the Ferris wheel started moving again.

To be continued...

Author's note: Wow, this was quite a long chapter! I hope that compensates for this: due to how many stories I am currently working on, this fic will be going on a short hiatus. Rest assured, I am not abandoning it and it will most definitely be completed! Your patience is appreciated.