Long Way to Happy

Author: keisan

Rating: mature

Warnings: see first chapter (I've included warnings from chapter 7 at this point).

Disclaimer: see first chapter

A/n: My apologies. I've had the worst writer's block but I think I've come up with a solution. ;) This is a major fluff chapter, fyi. Oh and shout out to hockey fans in this chappie. ;)

Onward!

It took about a week before I noticed. Amidst the random crying, the deliberate self-harming, the unresolved issues with Gilbert and the rest of his (technically, 'our') housemates, Alfred was slowly making his way closer to me and closer to finding out. I kept my defences up in order to keep him at a distance and ignorant to what really happens in my life but I did notice little things that upon reflection, seemed odd. The best way to describe it: he was being chivalrous and essentially, taking care of me.

The first time I noticed was when I was watching the hockey practice of the week. I was sitting on the cold bench unconsciously rubbing my hands together, both out of nervousness and chill in my bones. Alfred had texted me earlier in the day to ask if I wanted to hang out and I told him I was going to watch a hockey practice , needless to say I stuttered out an invite but felt for certain, Alfred would never come. I thought he wouldn't show firstly because of well, me—I didn't think he liked me that much, after all, we'd seen each other just the day before and he was bound to be getting tired of me. And secondly because I was just watching a practice; people don't watch practices as evidenced by the lack of people in the stadium, minus the scary chick who had given me the evil eye some weeks earlier.

As I was sitting there biting my lip while watching the Russian hockey player dominate the ice and trying to warm my hands, I felt something brush my shoulder. I started and shifted back quickly and raised a hand up to cover my face before I heard a small laugh.

"Did I scare ya?" And lo and behold, there was Alfred with that typical grin and equally sincere sky blue eyes.

My mouth dropped open and I stuttered a greeting, "H-hey. Uh no, I'm fine."

I paused and then added with wonder, "You came."

"Yeah! Of course! I wanted to see you!" he announced with red cheeks and that perpetual grin.

I couldn't help but return a small smile of my own and nodded, though not really understanding.

"Do you like hot chocolate?" he asked as he held up a steaming, Styrofoam cup.

"Oh! You didn't have to! How much? I'll pay you back…" I replied.

"Like a dollar or something. Forget it. Just stop worrying about that stuff and take the cup," he winked at me.

I felt heat rise to my cheeks and glanced away with another small smile. I took the proffered cup and wrapped my cold thin fingers around it.

Then he nodded seemingly happy he'd convinced me and took a sip from his own hot chocolate.

We sat in silence for a while and watched the seamless passing of the puck between the players, the rough checking and the swift shots on net.

"I know that guy," Alfred said.

"Who?"

"The big Russian dude. I used to play against him when I played for my old school's team. He's a rough bastard but he's a half decent player."

I laughed, "Not the next Ovechkin though?"

"Ha! As if. Personally I'm more of a Crosby fan."

I smiled, feeling like I'd found someone I could actually talk about this stuff with. It felt so nice. "Even though he beat you Americans in the Olympics?"

Alfred smiled wryly, "Damn. Yeah, I had money riding on a bet; lost about $150 because we lost. But I gotta hand it to Crosby, he was amazing to watch."

I felt a sense of pride and nodded. "He's really amazing. Like the next Gretzky or something."

The blond nodded and gestured to my cup, "Feeling any warmer?"

I gaped and looked up into his gaze.

"I could see from when I came in here you were shivering. Did the chocolate warm you up?"

A blush came over my features and I looked away shyly. "Yes. Thank you."

"Good, I'm glad." Alfred interlaced his strong fingers together as he shifted in his seat.

I took a deep breath and reached a shaking hand toward his. I swallowed down my fear.

Alfred's eyes widened slightly and allowed me to touch his hand. He looked at me with a question in his eyes and clasped our hands together gently.

My cheeks could fry an egg at how warm they felt but I avoided any more eye contact for the time being. We watched the hockey together in relative silence, at least until Alfred decided to start egging on a fight between some of the players. I huffed out a quiet laugh until I also got into the spirit.

The next time I noticed this 'chivalry' was after I'd gotten into a particularly bad fight with Gilbert and ran out of the house.

I sat at the park near the German's house, tears were running down my cheeks and I was shivering. I'd been so upset I didn't even grab a coat. I mentally smacked myself for being such an idiot. It was 4 degrees outside!

The one thing I had grabbed was my phone however, so when Alfred texted me 45 minutes later, I told him briefly what happened.

Ten minutes later the blond was at my side with an extra coat. He wrapped it around me and looked at me before running his big hands over my arms in an effort to warm me up. I was tempted to step right into his hold but my fear held me back. Alfred just looked at me concernedly and asked for more details about the fight.

I sighed. "He was just being moody, I think. He's stressed out about his girlfriend."

Alfred pressed his lips together, "That's no reason to take it out on you."

I shrugged, "It's nothing unusual. People have been doing that all my life."

Alfred frowned, "That's not right. If you…if you want to talk about it, I'm all ears but I won't push you. I just want you to be safe."

I gulped and averted my eyes, "I'm perfectly safe."

"Dude, it's like igloo weather out here! You would have frozen to death if I hadn't come here! Look," he gestured to me, "You're shivering."

I shrugged but felt half-ashamed. I suppose I had treated myself rather badly…

"Mattie, you gotta be nicer to this guy," he indicated he was talking about me, "I kinda like him and well he's much better looking than a snowman."

I ducked my head shyly, bit my lip and muttered quietly, "No, I'm not."

Alfred just shook his head, "You have no idea, do you?"

I just looked at him blankly.

"You're gorgeous. Everything from that hot body to those sparkly violet eyes…" Alfred blushed a little at his own sentimental words and gave me a meaningful look. "I mean it."

I cleared my throat awkwardly; at least that's what I told myself. It felt like something got caught in my throat when my mouth went dry. I couldn't see that Alfred would blatantly lie to me but the truth was: I was ugly. I knew that to be true; I was scrawny and covered in scars, both inside and out. I also obviously attracted the wrong sort of attention, if my assault was any indication. Alfred couldn't see them all so that's why he was saying such sweet things. I nodded to appease him and my lips twitched into a small reluctant smile.

Then Alfred slowly shifted away and pulled something out of his large coat pockets. He handed a brown bag to me.

"I uh-I made you something."

I blinked as I took the bag and opened it up to find some sliced up fruit, veggies and a sandwich wrap.

"It's that hummus stuff…I figure it's vegetarian so you'd eat that," he said looking expectant. "Is it OK?"

My eyes watered. He was so thoughtful; I couldn't remember the last time someone actually bothered to make me a lunch…not since my mum. "I-it's perfect. Thank you."

I looked up at him and leaned forward into a hug. My fear, it seemed, had been trumped by Alfred's sweetness. His arms slowly came around me and he held me gently. His warm body chased away the cold in mine and he smelled of spice and something indescribable. I let my head rest on his shoulder, he was still careful about my still cast-encased arm, and we stood there for what seemed like an eternity.

I suspect we would have stayed like that for much longer except that a car sped by and honked loudly. We were startled and I pulled away quickly. I shot him a shy smile and he grinned back.

"Want me to take you back to Gilbert's?"

That brought me back to our latest argument. Gilbert had said some thoughtless things.

"Communication, eh? Like you're the expert. I'm sorry Matt, but I think you're the one who needs to work on that! You keep locking yourself in that room and get all 'kicked puppy-like' whenever I try to get you to talk about some of this shit!" Gilbert said in a frustrated tone, pointing at my arms. They were covered but he'd seen the scars and that was enough.

I didn't even know what had brought this attack on. I'd just been trying to help and idly commented that he should try to communicate with Elizaveta if he wanted to fix things with her. His moodiness was catching, I thought.

"You know what? Maybe you should go back to your step-dad's and he'd know what to do, then maybe you'd be less mopey. Because God knows I don't seem to be any help."

Shocked that he'd say something like that, I backed away. 'I'm not going to cry,' I repeated in my head, even so, my eyes began to water of their own accord. I turned away, shoved my feet in my shoes and ran out the door.

"Fuck! Matt! Come back! It's freezing!" he yelled to me from the porch. But I kept running.

"Mattie?" called a soft, rousing voice.

I swallowed and shook my head to clear the memory. "Uh-um maybe we could go somewhere else," suggested meekly.

Alfred frowned but nodded, "Where do you wanna go?"

I bit my lip and shrugged, "Somewhere warmer?"

"Uh I'd suggest my house…"

I shook my head and caught his eye, "I like to hang around the bookstore sometimes…"

"Sure," Alfred smiled softly and let out a small laugh.

"What?"

He shook his head with a grin, "Nothing. You're cute."

My cheeks fired again but I cleared my throat, "No I'm—"

"Don't deny it. Let's go," Alfred ushered me toward his car.

We hung out at the bookstore and talked over coffee. Hesitantly, I told Alfred what happened but tried to convey that it wasn't all Gilbert's fault. Alfred scowled and told me not to defend the German.

I arched a brow.

"He should be more patient," Alfred grumbled.

I let out a laugh and blushed, "Like you?"

Alfred nodded, "Exactly. Just like me."

I laughed louder and smiled at him affectionately, "You're sweet."

Alfred frowned, "I'm not sweet, I'm a hero!"

I giggled again. "And funny."

The blond stuck his tongue out at me and winked.

I blushed and shook my head. Alfred was really sweet…I didn't deserve him but I wanted to hold on to him as long as I could; at least I could spare him from my darkest secrets. On the one hand I feared touch, but on the other, the way Alfred treated me made it seem like he would never do anything I didn't want him to do. I felt conflicted. I sighed quietly to myself not noticing the flash of concern adorning the American's face.

The bookstore was closing and I was still holding a croissant in the paper bag I got from the café. Alfred was dropping me off at my (well, Gilbert's) house and the sun had long since set. We were still in the car when Alfred caught my gaze and began to lean towards me. My body froze except for my shaking hands, I felt a paralyzing fear while at the same time, I felt frustrated.

Despite knowing Alfred would never want me if he knew the truth, I really did want him to touch and kiss me. But suddenly my fears would take over and paralyze me.

Alfred must have noticed my lack of movement and stopped just two centimetres from my face. I opened one eye and saw him glancing at my shaking hands.

"You're hyperventilating," he said.

It was only then I realized I was struggling to breathe.

He slowly took my hand in one of his larger ones and held it both tightly and gently. He pulled back a little and studied my face. I looked back into his eyes unable to hide my fear.

"Mattie, breathe. I'm not going to do anything you don't want me to do," he said in a reassuring tone, still holding my hand.

Slowly my breathing steadied and I felt tears prickling at my eyes. I let out a huffy breath, feeling both reassured but frustrated with myself. I blinked away the tears but one escaped and trailed down my cheek.

Alfred brought up his other hand and brushed away the tear with his thumb.

"It's OK," he murmured.

Finally, I stuttered out, "It-it's not like I-I don't w-want to. I do."

He nodded, "Tell me."

I took a deep breath, I couldn't believe I felt compelled to tell him my secrets. I wasn't going to…not completely. He wouldn't want me anymore.

"Y-you'll hate me," I shook my head.

"Mattie," he brought both hands to mine and held them. "I could never hate you. Nothing you could tell me would make me hate you because I can tell you're a good person at heart."

I swallowed heavily and lowered my eyes, I stuttered out a sigh. "It-it's nothing really. My-my step-dad and I don't really get along… I'm bad and he knew and so he punished me a lot."

Alfred's hold tightened and I stifled a wince. "Sorry. Please continue."

"Ever since I w-was a kid, he um-he," my voice hitched, "Hit me a lot."

That was all I could get out. The whole truth wanted to escape my lips but I just couldn't let it. It would ruin everything and Alfred could never want to be with someone as broken as me, so I couldn't tell him.

Alfred's eyes narrowed and glanced at my cast-encased arm, "Your arm?"

I closed my eyes not able to bear the rejection that I knew would be in his face and nodded.

Instead of being shoved away, I felt Alfred's arms close around me and he pulled me close to him.

"You're not bad. No one deserves to be abused no matter what they did, especially a child," he murmured into my hair.

Confused, I pulled away, "Y-you don't hate me?"

"Oh Mattie! The only one who deserves to be hated is that asshole who hurt you. You didn't do anything wrong," he said with passion.

"But I would burn dinner and I was clumsy sometimes…" I protested.

"Doesn't matter! And anyway, you were a kid. The parent is supposed to do the cooking! And even if you did like to cook, your parent should help you and be patient."

I gave a bitter smile and shrugged.

"Mattie."

I looked him in the eye.

"It's not your fault," he said patiently.

"But—"

"No buts. It's not, now repeat after me: it's not my fault."

"It-it's n-not—" I shook my head. "I can't."

Alfred let out a huff and gave me a stubborn, wry grin, "I'll get you to say it. Don't worry."

My lips twitched and I let out a huffy laugh. I felt a little bit lighter. I didn't know how but that perpetual coil of fear in my stomach lessened ever so slightly.

Soon my eyes were drooping and Alfred pulled away, "Time to go to sleep?"

I nodded absently and drew away from the American.

"You sure you wanna stay here?" Alfred gave me a meaningful glance. "I mean with the fight you had earlier. That reminds me, I'm going to kick that German's ass for being a dick to you," he muttered.

I flinched, not unable to associate the thought with my own abusive past.

Alfred shook his head, "Mattie, I don't mean it like that. But I'm gonna say something to him. And don't be going outside without a coat! Sheesh! Do I have to come by each morning to make sure you're dressed properly?"

At the last bit Alfred looked me up and down and winked.

I relaxed a bit, blushed and laughed. We got out of the car and Alfred walked me to the door.

"Goodnight cutie," Alfred told me with a wink. He took my uninjured arm and kissed the back of my hand.

I blushed harder and bit my lip, "Goodnight."

He let go and left with a wave. I could neither stop the joy brought about by the fluttering in my stomach, nor could I stop the grin that threatened to split my face. I sighed happily as I walked through the front door.

Tbc.

A/n: I know, Gilbert's being kind of a bitch right now but we'll see more about why in the next chapter. It really has a lot do with Elizaveta and him fighting; he's just frustrated and is taking it out on Matthew. Alfred's gonna ream him out for it too though. Haha.

So who died of fluff overdose? Hmm? Please tell me what you think! There will be more focus on Alfred and Mattie now! Review? Pretty please? I'll throw in more fluff if you do. ;)