Hello everybody! I'm back ;) Just wanted to say thanks for reading my story and that I'm sorry if it sounds a little off, but i'm sick xP Sadly, this is the last chapter that pertains to the plot, but if you want, i could throw in a fun chapter! (I will, regardless) So, hope you enjoy it and happy reading!

It was incredibly weird to entrust myself to Alfred after so many years of watching over him. It seemed like he had, in fact, matured more than I'd originally presumed. Obviously, or else he wouldn't have been able to lure me in like that, sneaky little wanker. Watching him sleep so peacefully beside me now, there was no evidence of the strange, unfamiliar man I'd seen in him last night. If anything, he looked even dumber than usual, with his jaw hanging slack, a drop of drool making its way out of his mouth.

I couldn't help but laugh, of course. He was a complete idiot, yes, but he was back with me now. There was nothing to worry about anymore. At least until he forgot who I was, I would keep trying to protect him.

Attempting to fight my embarrassment, I snuggled closer to him and ignored my burning face. His quiet snoring was peaceful, methodic as it reverberated through my body. I couldn't remember that he'd ever snored. Another change I'd missed in the time I'd been trying so hard to find him. Instead of infuriating me, however, it was actually quite relaxing, and I found myself planning our day, my thoughts easing along peacefully for once.

We would go and see Matthew as soon as we woke up. Maybe he had already forgotten his brother, but I hadn't. And I was sure he would be thanking me for trying to remind him of what was important later, whether he realized that's what this was or not. Then, after we spent a good amount of time with him, we would run by his store so I could check up on a few things before coming home and spending a nice evening together. Content with today's schedule, I drifted back to sleep, putting my arms lovingly around Alfred.

"Artie…Artie…dude? Hey it's, like, five o'clock in the afternoon! ARTIEEEEEEE!"

My tired eyes flickered open to find Alfred looming above me, his face a mask of concern. Shocked by our proximity, I shot up straight and smacked heads with him. "Ow! Bloody HELL, Alfred! What in blazes are you doing?"

Rubbing his injured skull gently, he pointed at the clock. "It's five o' clock in the afternoon! You've been asleep all day! I was getting worried that you'd DIED or something!"

"Five in the… ALFRED! Why didn't you wake me up sooner, you idiot?" I grabbed onto his shirt furiously, ignoring the ridiculous smile on his face. "I was going to take you to see your brother at the hospital today!"

For awhile, he just stared at me blankly, carefully confused. "My brother? At the hospital? What…why's Mattie in the hospital?"

My heart sank. So it had already begun…How long would it be before he forgot Matthew completely? Before he forgot me as well? How had I let this happen to him?

"Matthew was in a plane crash…as were you. Have you already forgotten that you're going to lose your memory?"

"I was…I was in a plane crash…? Ugh, dude, this is making my head hurt so bad! You'd think I'd remember being in a plane crash, but I don't…and I know you aren't joking because you NEVER joke around 'cause you're Arthur!" He got quiet, staring at me intensely before muttering, "You are Arthur…right?"

I blinked once before smacking him on his unworthy head. "Of course I am! Don't be ridiculous! Now get away from me, I'm going to change so that we can go. And please, try to remember your brother has been through much more suffering than you. He's had to get surgery due to his injuries. You escaped with a just memory loss." Shoving him out of the room, I slammed the door, pulled on some new clothes, and tried not to cry.

The walk to the hospital was a short one, as my flat was practically next door to it, give or take a few blocks. Once there, we were given his room number before heading upstairs, Alfred staring out the glass elevator at the world outside like a ridiculous small child.

"I can see your house from here!" he told me, pointing into the grey mist.

"No, you can't. That's not our apartment building, you git."

When we got to the room, it was obvious that there were already people here visiting him…people whose voices sounded ghastly familiar to me. It sparked unpleasant memories in my mind hearing the Frenchman sneer in his nasty frog tone, "Oh, but it is your birthday, non?"

I almost turned around and went back home, but the confused look on Alfred's face kept me pinned there, unable to leave.

"Sounds like people are already here…" he muttered. "Let's go say hi!"

Before I could tell him not to, he'd swung the door open and gone inside, leaving me standing alone in the hallway. Against my better judgment, I followed him, bristling like a cat.

"Oh, what have we here?" chuckled Francis. "Arthur, mon cher, it has been way too long! And Alfred! You have grown to look…just like Matthew, oui?"

"Please don't bother associating with them," I told Alfred, shoving past the "Bad Touch Trio" as they laughed and joked around. "You probably don't remember Francis, anyway. The other two are minor characters, so they are quite unimportant."

"Hey! How dare you call the AWESOME ME a minor character?"

I should have known this would elicit comment from HIM.

"Just ignore them," I said more to myself than anyone. "Just greet Matthew, see how he's feeling, and get OUT. Then we can go home. End of story."

"Alfred…" called Matthew's timid voice from the hospital bed.

He looked awful. His face was white, rigid with pain from his injuries and his eyes looked too blue in contrast against his pallid skin. There were severe bags under his eyes, as if these three dunderheads hadn't allowed him to sleep at all since his surgery…knowing them, they probably hadn't. Even under piles of blankets, he was quivering, though whether it was from the stress of everyone visiting or that he was actually cold, I couldn't honestly say. He had bandages everywhere from his neck down.

How had Alfred escaped so incredibly unscathed?

"Mattie!" Alfred said cheerfully, taking his little brother's bony hand in his. "What's up? How're you feeling?"

"Better…" he mumbled, his always-quiet voice nearly inaudible now. "Tired…"

Alfred's eyebrows creased in concern. "Maybe you should sleep then…oh, but before you do, I brought you something cool!"

Wait…what? When had he gotten something for him? Curious, I watched as he pulled a fuzzy white pillow with a messy maple leaf design embroidered into the side out from under his jacket.

He handed it over to his surprised brother in excitement. "I made it for you awhile back as a Christmas present, but then you moved back to America…so I'm giving it to you now as a 'get better soon, dude' present!"

Matthew smiled happily, holding the pillow tight. "Thank you…" he whispered, before closing his eyes. "One more thing…Arthur…"

"Yes, Matthew?" I asked, unsure of what he might need.

"Please…kick them out."

Now it was my turn to grin. "Why, of course. Sweet dreams, Matthew," I told him, before turning on the obnoxious trio behind us. "Alright, you bloody fools! Get the hell out of here!"

The rest of the day, though there wasn't much of it, I spent with Alfred as I had planned. We stopped by the shop for a moment to make sure things were running smoothly, and then headed back home, where Alfred made us dinner. I felt a routine in the making as I cleared up our plates and slid them into the dishwasher, my mind on Alfred's amnesia as I wiped off the counters.

He seemed to be forgetting things slowly…it almost felt as if nothing were wrong. But I knew better, of course. In the hospital, he'd remembered his brother well, but before we'd left, he'd seemed so confused. It was possible his memories would be triggered by exposure, meaning the more time he spent with a person or thing, the more he could recall about it. However…I wasn't positive. I would have to take him to a doctor immediately so that I could receive information firsthand.

"Artie," said his mischievous tone from behind me.

Sighing and wringing out the washcloth over the sink, I turned my head to find him standing with his hands behind his back. "Yes, Alfred? What is it?"

His face turned red and for the first time in a long time, he looked like his cute younger self. "I was just kinda wondering…are you, like, my boyfriend now that we…did it?"

Now it was my turn to flush as I held his gaze. "I-I…well…I suppose we are…" I mumbled, desperately wishing I had a distraction now. "And bloody HELL, Alfred, I don't ever want to hear you saying that we "did it" ever again! You aren't eleven anymore!"

"Kay!" he said, his smile way too candid as he hugged me. "So you're my boyfriend now that we had sex?"

"Alfred! Just shut up. You're embarrassing."

He stayed silent for a moment, embracing me quietly. But because it was Alfred, it didn't last nearly long enough. Placing his head on my shoulder and looking up at me with pleading sapphire eyes he asked, "Can we do it again?"

"No!" I growled, pushing him off. "That was…last night was a mistake!"

"It was a mistake?" he asked sadly, his face so pathetic my heart leapt in compassion. "Don't you love me, Artie?"

I turned away from him, crossing my arms. Ha! If I couldn't see his face, then I wouldn't be susceptible to his damned evil charms! "You know bloody well that I do! Don't act as if I'm the bad guy!"

"Okay," he sighed unhappily, hugging me from behind again. "I'm still really glad I came back home, Artie, even if it DID cost me my memories. I'm happy that I get to be with you again, no matter what!"

A pang of guilt reverberated through me. He'd been hurt because of me…Reminded of this, I let my head fall back against his chest in defeat. "Alright already," I muttered crankily, turning around and kissing him. "Stop acting like a pathetic child. And this time, make sure you wake me up before noon."

He kissed me back, wordlessly smiling and pushing me against the counter gently.

I never could have imagined this was the last time he would get to make love to me.

In the weeks after, I became engrossed with work, attempting to make up for all the days I had taken off so that I could earn the money to pay for the flat, even taking on a second job for the sake of Alfred's college funds. Alfred himself had school to go to, so by the time we both came home in the evening, we were absolutely exhausted. Not to mention Alfred had begun truly struggling to remember whole situations from his childhood.

He had difficulty recalling even his own name during his worse episodes.

The doctor said it was only a matter of time before he forgot me, as well.

It was even more difficult to deal with Alfred's rapid deterioration when I received a call from Francis, letting me know braggingly that Matthew had recovered enough to go back home. His teasing thinly masked the relief that his "little brother" was going to be alright.

I slammed the phone down into the cradle furiously, trying to muffle my sobs with my arm so that Alfred wouldn't hear. I'd never imagined that it could hurt this much to watch someone I cared so deeply for lose his mind. I was convinced it was almost more painful than when he'd left me. Why did it always have to hurt so much to love Alfred? Why was this so damn hard?

"Artie…?"

I looked up to find Alfred holding his math book, his eyes distant. Hurriedly, I wiped at my eyes. "Y-Yes, Alfred?"

Then he finally seemed to really see me. "Artie! Why are you crying? What happened?" he gasped loudly, sitting down next to me, his homework obviously forgotten.

"Nothing. I'm…I'm fine. Do you need help with your math homework?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

His brow furrowed. "What math homework? I had math homework?"

I laughed humorlessly, my heart breaking. "Well, then why on earth did you lug this textbook out here?"

"Uh…I did?" He laughed too, though his was genuine. "Guess I forgot! I totally don't even remember what page I was supposed to do…was I even supposed to do one? Dude…I am SO confused."

Trying to be patient, I asked him, sounding like a parent again, "Did you write down your assignment in the agenda I asked you to fill out every day? It would help you a lot, Alfred."

Biting his lip, he fidgeted uncomfortably. "I…well, I kinda forgot you gave me that agenda thing…"

I took a deep, shaky breath, unable to fight back a wave of despair that had my head in my hands. "It's okay, Alfred. It's okay. I think it's about time I took you out of school for a bit and brought you to a place that can help you to start remembering things better, does that sound good? I'm going to help you, Alfred. We…we have the money. I can get another job or something."

Sweetly, he stroked my hair. "No…Artie…I'm going to try to remember! I really am! Give me another chance! I'll write down my assignment tomorrow, I swear!"

I looked up at him, my eyes flooding with tears. "I bet you don't even recall saying that exact thing to me yesterday, do you?"

"No… please don't cry…I'm here…" he mumbled, looking more defeated than I'd ever seen him.

The next day, with a heavy heart, I spoke with Alfred's doctor, who agreed to let me take him to a recovery center for amnesia patients not too far out of London. There, he told me, he would check Alfred's progress every day until he was deemed healthy enough to return home with me. The estimated time of full recovery was three years, if the therapy went well. If not…I tried not to dwell too much on that.

Last time he'd left, it hadn't been for that long.

I couldn't believe how terrible I felt telling Alfred that he was going away again, having to watch his face as I let him know where he was going and why, as I brought him to the center, as I was told to leave and that I could come visit again after they'd fully evaluated him…it was as if I were ripping out a chunk of my soul and feeding it to the savage creatures of my nightmares. Maybe it was slightly pathetic of me, but after leaving him alone right when he really needed me, I sobbed until there were no tears left.

After that, I decided it was time for me to straighten up. I would no longer cry myself to sleep for Alfred, not when he needed me to be strong and protect him. Trying not to feel the stress of everyday life, I decided to take a chance for a better-paying job that would give me more money than three separate jobs could ever get me. However, with no college education to speak of, I was an unlikely choice for such an occupation.

I was going to get deeper into the business.

Since Alfred had inherited the store, it had been doing quite well. There was enough money to pay the employees and still have some left to improve on the actual merchandise. We had morphed it into a store less for the elderly and more for children who were interested in the World Wars and such. Now that it was selling, the store was rejuvenated. It was a wavering chance…but as a manager of the store as well, I was going to attempt to buy and open another shop somewhere else. With twice the profit, I would no longer need to wait tables.

Alfred, who couldn't remember anything about the store or the man who had given it to him, would have been thrilled to hear that I was no longer going to be so financially concerned.

I was glad that night when, after a long day of struggling to find and buy more property, the phone rang.

"Hello?" I asked wearily.

"Artie!" said Alfred's cheerful voice from the other end. "Guess what? This place is awesome! It's like a giant vacation! All I have to do is hang out and everyone is so nice! This is way better than high school."

I chuckled, warmth spreading through me at the jovial tone in his voice. "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself. I was initially afraid to leave you there, but… it sounds like you really like it."

"I do! They let me eat whatever I want, as long as they can put weird machines on me and stuff for like an hour! They even said they'd let you stay here a couple nights with me if you wanted to! Artie…I feel better already! I'm going to try really hard to remember for you so that I can come home again!"

Already, in the tone of his voice, I could hear how much this was helping him. He was recovered enough that he could even remember he wasn't supposed to forget. Closing my eyes, I let him continue to blather on about everything he enjoyed in that place. Once again, he was a child, an ecstatic eight-year-old just glad that somebody had cared enough to pick him off the streets, telling me all about who he was. Though Alfred had changed physically over these years, I knew he would never change mentally. Alfred was going to be Alfred. And one day, when he was healed, I was finally going to get my Alfred, the boy that I loved with all my heart, back.

I just had to be patient.