Through my Eyes

And then there were two

Matthew felt lost. He even looked lost.

There were many times that Matthew would wake up at a sound late at night, probably a squirrel or raccoon, and he would rush down from his room on the second floor to open the front door to see... no one. Even though Matthew knew that Arthur and Alfred were both somewhere south fighting wars against each other, Matthew would wake up in the middle of the night without fail and check that door. During the day, he would sit in the room that had window facing the front yard and a perfect view of the front yard to see anyone coming towards the house and he would wait.

I had no doubts to whom he was waiting for; it would either be Arthur or Alfred, maybe even both. He wanted Arthur to come to tell him that the decision that he made was the correct one; that not going to Alfred was the right choice. He wanted Alfred to come to tell him that he was forgiven; that he was still loved. But obviously neither of them ever showed up and Matthew felt more and more unsure of himself.

Thus he waited for either of them or both of them. If Arthur managed to quell the rebellion and stop the Revolution then Alfred would come back and maybe Alfred might forgive Matthew then. If Alfred manages to win his Revolution, then that would've been the last conversation Matthew had with Alfred for a long, long time. I knew Matthew wasn't sure on which side to cheer for; he wanted to Alfred back but he also didn't want to begrudge Alfred's desire for freedom and so, he waited.

He waited for the Revolution to be over with whatever ending and although in the beginning it seemed like England would win, 8 years later from the Revolution's start, it ended with America's victory.

Alfred wasn't coming back after all.

The Treaty of Paris was signed on September 3, 1783, formally ending the American Revolution. We had heard that the Americas wanted all of Quebec as one of the spoils of war but England was adamant about it and refused to give Quebec over, giving only the Ohio region to America. Did that mean that Canada was a bit loved? By either of them? Or did America just wanted that last kick to England and England refused to lose his only colony left in the New World?

Matthew couldn't tell which but I think he didn't want to know either. He just wanted someone to come back and obviously that someone could not be Alfred who was now busy with his new found freedom, so that only left Arthur. But Arthur didn't show up for many days after the signing of the Treaty and Matthew worried that he was once again forgotten by Arthur.

Again, Matthew waited in that same room he had waited in all those times during the Revolution but this time, only for that blond-haired, green-eyed Englishman. For many days, no trace of said Englishman ever appeared until one late night, we both saw a wobbling figure walk up to Matthew's house.

Matthew raced to the front door and opened it before the Englishman had a chance to knock. For a moment, Arthur had a bewildered face on with one hand in the air poised to knock and then he toppled over and, with his size, immediately crushed Matthew under his weight. Matthew let out a pained sound when he hit the ground and I rushed to pull Arthur off of Matthew and with my size, it took awhile.

Even from a distance, I could smell the alcohol just emanating from the Englishman's body. He was drunk and the smell was hurting my nose but I needed to get him off Matthew.

When I finally got the intoxicated man off of Matthew, Matthew quickly mumbled a soft "Thank you" to me and proceeded to close the door before the cold entered the house. Arthur sat on the floor, swaying a bit and looking at nothing in particular. Until Matthew kneeled in front of him did Arthur finally focus on him.

"What's wrong, Arthur?" Obviously we both knew what was on Arthur's mind but Matthew needed to say something to break the silence.

"He's –hic– gone!" wailed Arthur who then practically threw himself onto Matthew's small body, engulfed him in a hug and started to sob. We didn't need any help figuring out who he was.

Matthew was surprised at both the hug and the crying; very rarely did Arthur show any weak emotion around him and for a long time, we had believed that Arthur never cried. Of course, having someone that you've raised for long repudiate you would cause anyone to cry but Arthur wasn't the only who had lost someone. Matthew did too and I wondered if Arthur was able to see that through his drunken stupor or he was just like rest of them and was pushing all of their problems onto Matthew even though he was still a child. Not like Matthew would say anything about it. With the way Matthew was and what Matthew feared would happen if he were to lash out, Matthew would always keep quiet and let things flow around him. He would accept everything as it came.

Matthew didn't say anything in answer to Arthur's outcry and instead he started to gently rub Arthur's back as Arthur sobbed into his clothing. Silently, small tears ran down Matthew's eyes but Matthew didn't make any sound and Arthur never noticed. Matthew kept comforting Arthur while he ignored his own pain in losing Alfred.

For a long while, the only sounds in the hallway were Arthur sobs until finally Arthur fell asleep in Matthew's small arms, either from crying too long or because of the alcohol he consumed, or probably both. Matthew shifted Arthur till he was lying on Matthew's lap and then he turned to me.

"Kumayama... Do you mind getting a blanket from the sitting room? I do not think we would be able to carry him anywhere..." Matthew spoke in a near whisper, careful to not wake Arthur.

I quickly ran to the sitting room to grab the blanket Matthew kept on the sofa just in case he fell asleep while reading or waiting for Arthur or Alfred to come and then I went back to where Matthew and Arthur was with a blanket in my mouth. When I returned, Matthew was leaning over Arthur, softly stroking his hair and was singing something so quietly that I had to move extremely close to him to hear what he was singing:

"Dodo, l'enfant do,
L'enfant dormira bien vite
Dodo, l'enfant do
L'enfant dormira bientôt."

It was a French lullaby. One that Francis used to sing to him when he was a whole lot younger and was not bothered with all the complexities of being a colony. When he was naïve and happier.

Matthew continued to sing quietly, of course he was not singing for Arthur to go to sleep as Arthur is pretty much passed out from exhaustion or drunkenness but I believed he was singing for himself. It was just a small comfort to him when all seemed dark and terrible. Matthew continued singing with small tears still running down his face until he realized I was there with a blanket in my mouth. He stopped singing and with a small sad smile he removed the blanket from my mouth and placed it over Arthur tenderly as a parent would for a child. It was simply ironic when a child of twelve or thirteen would have to comfort an adult of twenty-three but Matthew didn't care, he needed to be strong for Arthur.

Matthew resumed his singing and I crawled over to his side and curled there, listening to the lullaby. Halfway through the lullaby, his voice cracked and he began to sob almost inaudibly, his tears splashing onto Arthur's forehead.

"Je suis désolé mais j'ai juste besoin de... Juste besoin de..." Matthew said between his quiet sobs.

I am sorry but I just need to... Just need to...

I cuddled closer to his side to indicate that I don't care what he needed to do, as long as it made him a bit happier, I wouldn't care. Matthew nodded as if in understanding and continued to weep quietly over Arthur's sleeping head. Matthew needed to be strong for Arthur who had just lost his favourite child and strong for himself who had lost his brother, but he needn't be strong right now. Tomorrow, tomorrow he will be strong, but not right now.

It was okay that I was the only one who would see him cry.

We fell asleep in that position – me at Matthew's side, Arthur on his lap and Matthew sitting upright in the middle of the hallway and in front of the front door. Matthew and I were both woken up by a small groan coming from the figure on Matthew's lap.

Matthew gazed down on the prostrate figure on his lap and watched the Englishman blink a few times until he looked at Matthew's face. There was a small silence between the two of them before Arthur spoke.

"... Alfred...?"

Matthew gave a weak smile towards Arthur. "I'm sorry but I am not Alfred, I am Matthew."

Arthur lifted himself off of Matthew's lap and it was then that he noticed the blanket over him. "I'm sorry but... When I did come here?"

"Last night." Matthew supplied.

"... Last night...?"

"Yes." Matthew stretched out his legs that were probably close to being numb from having the Englishman's head on it all night. "It seems like you drank... A lot... and I saw you coming up to the house and when I opened the door you fell over. I believed that neither me nor Kumagite would be able to carry you upstairs to the room so I decided that it was better for you to... rest here."

Arthur stared at Matthew for a moment and then he folded the blanket neatly in his hands. "I... didn't do anything last night? Said anything?"

A pause. "No," Matthew lied, "You just passed out."

Matthew figured it was better for Arthur to not realize that he regretted the loss of Alfred – he probably would've spluttered indignantly and refused it anyways. Arthur didn't notice the pause and half-walked and half-wobbled into the nearby room to place the blanket on a chair. He placed a head to his forehead and let out a groan.

"God my bloody head hurts..."

At that, Matthew went to the kitchen, half-limping as the feeling was starting to come back to his legs, got a cup and filled it with cold water. He brought the cup to Arthur and Arthur took it with a word of thanks and gulped it all down.

Arthur looked at the empty cup and then to Matthew, totally ignored me, gave a sigh and patted Matthew on the head.

"I guess it's just you and me now, huh?"

"Yes... And Kumakicho" Matthew said quietly.

Arthur laughed a little at that comment. "Yes, and that bear of yours."

They both smiled at each other and maybe, I had hoped, that this time Arthur would be a better brother to Matthew than before.

It had seemed so at the beginning of this "new found relationship" between the two of them where they were both connected by the loss of Alfred that Arthur was being a better brother towards Matthew. Arthur was playing with Matthew and reading books to Matthew whenever Matthew asked. He stayed for longer periods of time at Matthew's house than he did when from before Alfred's Revolution and would let Matthew sleep with him whenever he had a nightmare.

All in all, it had seemed that Arthur was trying to become a better brother but as time passed, discrepancies started to occur. He would disappear at night and come back smelling of alcohol and such disappearances began to increase in number as the weeks passed by. Just like Alfred and his town excursions back then. Matthew never asked where Arthur went just like how he never asked Alfred. It was obvious where Arthur went every time given that he smelled so strongly of alcohol when he returned.

The "disappearances" started to become more frequent and longer where at the beginning, Arthur would leave sometime before dinner but would make it back when dinner was ready and only smelled lightly of alcohol but as time passed, Arthur would leave somewhere in the afternoon and would not return until very late in the night and smelled like he washed in alcohol. Many times when he returned from his bar/tavern visits, he would refuse to look at Matthew and when he did look at Matthew, he would always have a sad face on.

Matthew didn't understand why but never asked Arthur about it. Arthur would usually go straight to his room on the 2nd floor and pass out after his bar visits. Matthew would be there in the morning with a glass of water every time and every time Arthur would wake up with "...Alfred?" on his lips. Matthew would always push it off, blaming it on the alcohol that made Arthur mistake him for Alfred and would correct him with an "I'm sorry but I am not Alfred, I am Matthew" every time.

Soon, Arthur began to call him Alfred even when he was sober.

It began first when Arthur was in the study – it was smaller than the one in Alfred's house but it was enough to do work in it – and Matthew poked his head into the room with a book in his hand and me behind him, like usual.

"Arthur... when you're done can you read a book to me?"

"I can't right now, Alfred, I need to catch up on these paperwork I have neglected for the past few days." Arthur spoke without looking up from his writing.

"But I am not–" Matthew started.

"What was that, Matthew?" Arthur finally looked up and turned to stare at Matthew. Matthew stood still and I could see him brush off that slip of the tongue internally. Maybe he heard it wrong?

"Nothing... but can you read to me after you're done?"

"Yes, yes I can." Arthur waved his right hand as he turned back to his papers and resumed working on them. Matthew left the study right after, believing that it was only a hearing mistake and continued into the sitting room to read the book himself.

But it wasn't a hearing mistake at all.

Arthur began calling Matthew Alfred more often after that. Arthur never noticed and Matthew stopped trying to correct him. When was it that he finally realized what he was to Arthur? That he was a replacement for Alfred. I looked up at Matthew one day when Arthur, once again, mistakenly called Matthew Alfred and he looked back down on me with a melancholic smile, picked me up and murmured into my fur.

"I know Kumajiro... But he... He misses Alfred and although I can't be Alfred for him... I'll... I'll let him call me whatever he likes... He doesn't realize it. It's alright if it helps him..."

It's alright if it hurts me. I could almost hear him say it but of course I knew he wouldn't say that out loud in fear that it would make it all that more true and painful.

So it continued like that until Arthur had to go back to England to fight more wars once again. The Napoleonic Wars began around 1803 and Arthur rarely came to the house anymore. It became just the same as before; only Matthew and I were left in the house.

And then all of a sudden, in 1812, America declared war on England and started to invade Canada.

Notes:

Translation for the Lullaby:
Sleepy time, the young one sleeps,
The child will sleep very soon
Sleepy time, the young one sleeps,
The child will sleep oh, so soon.

And then! Yeah! So I have decided to make this fanfic no pairings so aside from the slash (teehee) there will be no outright pairings AT ALL. I think I would do a pairing one for another fanfic if I were to start one. (Most likely a USCan but with lots of sadness... and angst... prolly acause apparently I have this inability to write "happy" or "humour" stories IN ANY WAY.) And yes, I do quite adore USCan because they're so fricken adorable together!

So maybe reason for England's mistaken of Canada so often hum? God knows but alwell! Next chapter is the War of 1812 and it's going to be full of ANGST and SADNESS and a LITTLE TWIST just from me to you! TEEHEE I'M SO EXCITED! Though it'll be awhile before I can cough something up since school has started again! Well, till next chapter!